#the laugh i let out when i realised what this gif was

[bennyboyfics]

Won you back || Ben Shelton x gf!reader

Summary: after a heated argument on the way to a tournament, Ben apologies to you during his post match interview

Wc: 1,412

Wanrings: angst

MASTERLIST

-

The argument had started over something small. It always did. You and Ben had been in the car, heading to the tournament, the morning sun spilling golden light over the dashboard. He had his cap on, one hand gripping the steering wheel, the other drumming absentmindedly against his thigh.

You’d been going over last-minute details—what time his warm-up started, where his physio would meet him—when you brought up something that had been on your mind. “You need to take recovery more seriously,” you said, trying to keep your tone light, non-confrontational. “You barely iced your shoulder yesterday.”

Ben scoffed, shaking his head. “Here we go.” That immediately set you off. You turned in your seat, eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?” “Babe, I’m fine,” he said, glancing at you before focusing back on the road. “I’ve been doing this for years. I know what my body needs.” “That’s not the point, Ben,” you shot back.

“You’ve been pushing yourself harder than usual, and I see how sore you are. You’re not invincible.”He exhaled through his nose, jaw tightening. “I know that.” “Do you?” you challenged, folding your arms. “Because you act like you don’t. You brush me off every time I bring it up, like I’m just nagging you for fun.” Ben let out a humorless laugh, gripping the wheel a little tighter.

“I don’t think it’s fun, but yeah, it is nagging. You say the same thing over and over like I don’t already know it.” You felt something sharp twist in your chest. “I say it over and over because you don’t listen.” “I listen,” he argued, his voice rising. “I just don’t need to be babied. I know how to handle my body. This is my job.”

His words stung more than they should have. He wasn’t outright saying it, but you heard what he meant. Stay out of it. Let me handle it. Your stomach churned with frustration, but more than that—hurt. “Right,” you muttered, staring out the window now. “God forbid I actually care about you.” Ben sighed, running a hand down his face. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Sure sounded like it.” “Jesus, babe,” he said, shaking his head. “You act like I’m out here being reckless. I know my limits.” You turned back to him, eyes flashing. “And what happens when you don’t? What happens when you push too far and get injured? Then what?” He didn’t answer right away. He just clenched his jaw, breathing heavily through his nose, the silence in the car thick and suffocating.

Then, finally, he muttered, “I don’t need you to micromanage me.” You felt that one like a slap. Your lips parted slightly, your throat going tight. He wasn’t yelling, but the weight of those words settled heavily between you. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The only sound was the faint hum of the engine and the distant noise of the city outside.

“Fine,” you finally said, voice quiet, clipped. “I won’t.” Ben glanced at you then, his brows furrowed, as if realising too late that he’d gone too far. But you didn’t give him a chance to take it back. You just turned your attention out the window, your reflection staring back at you in the glass. The rest of the ride was silent. Tense.

~

You were still fuming when you took your seat in Ben’s player box. Arms crossed, legs crossed, expression tight and unreadable. The energy in the stadium was buzzing—people were excited, eager to see him play—but all you could focus on was the lingering frustration in your chest.

Ben was already on the court, doing his warm-ups, but you knew him well enough to see it—the tension in his shoulders, the sharpness in his movements, the extra force in his serves. He was still pissed. He masked it well, all smiles and charm for the cameras, but you saw through it.

The match started, and if there was one thing about Ben, it was that he played with his emotions on full display. Every shot had an edge to it, every point won was punctuated with a clenched fist and a muttered, “Let’s go.” He was playing aggressively, moving with more purpose than usual, channelling every ounce of frustration into his game.

And damn it, he was playing well. You wanted to stay mad, you really did, but watching him dominate the court like this—focused, powerful, relentless—it was hard not to be impressed. He was always magnetic to watch, but today, there was something else fueling him, something raw.

Something personal. Every time he won a big point, his eyes flicked to his box, searching for your reaction, but you refused to give him one. No nods of encouragement, no silent approval. Just the same unreadable expression you’d walked in with. He clenched his jaw, lips pressing into a thin line before turning away. The fire in his eyes burned hotter.

By the time he secured the win, the crowd was on their feet, cheering, clapping, chanting his name. Ben threw his arms up, soaking it in, but even then—even then—his gaze found you again. You thought he’d just shake hands with his opponent, do his usual post-match routine, and keep it moving. But as the interviewer walked onto the court, microphone in hand, you noticed something shift in his expression.

The interviewer smiled. “Ben, incredible performance today. You seemed really fired up out there—what was driving you?” Ben exhaled sharply, running a hand through his sweat-damp curls. He glanced at the box again—at you—before bringing the mic closer. “Well,” he started, and already, you could tell this was going somewhere different.

His voice was steady, but there was something softer beneath it, something more vulnerable. “I, uh, had a bit of a rough morning.” A few chuckles from the crowd. The interviewer raised a brow, clearly intrigued. “Came in kinda frustrated,” Ben admitted, shifting on his feet. “Said some things I shouldn’t have. Was too stubborn to back down. And, uh…”

His eyes found yours again, and this time, the fire in them wasn’t competitive—it was pleading. “I’ve been thinking about that all match.” You swallowed hard, feeling the wall you’d built around yourself begin to crack. Ben cleared his throat. “So, yeah, I played hard today. But honestly? I just really wanted to win so I could have this moment to say—” He let out a small, almost nervous laugh. “I’m sorry.”

The crowd awwwed, and the interviewer grinned. “You’re apologising right now? On live TV?” “Yeah.” Ben rubbed the back of his neck. “Figured it’d be harder for her to stay mad at me this way.” Laughter rippled through the stadium, but you just sat there, stunned, heart pounding against your ribs. He meant it.

You could see it in his face, in the way his jaw wasn’t clenched anymore, in the way his shoulders had lost their tension. He wasn’t trying to win an argument anymore—he was just trying to fix it. And damn it, it was working. You exhaled, finally letting yourself really look at him, and when his lips quirked up into the smallest, hopeful smile, you felt your own soften in response.

Ben saw it. He saw the shift, the thaw, and he nodded slightly, as if to say, I’ll make it up to you. And just like that, the game was over. He’d already won the match. Now, he’d won you back, too.

[biblical-chronicles]

Branded

__________________________________________

where Liam gets an interesting t-shirt from fans.

__________________________________________

When Liam got back from the gig, it was late—stupidly late—but you were still awake, curled up on the couch, waiting for him. The second the door shut behind him, you stood, stretching slightly before making your way over to him. He barely had time to drop his bag before you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing into the warmth of him.

He let out a low chuckle, his arms settling comfortably around your waist. “That desperate for a cuddle, are ya?”

You hummed. “Just bein’ polite, welcoming you home.”

Liam pressed a lazy kiss to your temple, swaying you both slightly, content. Then you pulled back just enough to look at him properly—and immediately squinted.

“What’s this, then?”

His brows pulled together. “What’s what?”

You pinched the fabric of his shirt, tugging it slightly. “The shirt, Liam.”

Liam smirked. “Oh. This.”

You finally took in the bold lettering across his chest.

Y/N’s Boyfriend.

Your lips twitched. “Right. And where exactly did you acquire this?”

“Some fan lobbed it on stage,” he said, tone nonchalant. “Thought it was funny, so I put it on.”

You let go of the fabric and folded your arms. “Yeah? Just thought it was funny?”

Liam shrugged, smirking like he knew exactly what you were getting at but wasn’t about to say it. “Aye.”

You shook your head, amused, eyes flicking back to the shirt. “It’s a good look on you, I’ll give ‘em that.”

His smirk deepened. “Knew you’d say that.”

You hummed, poking his side. “Might have to start dressin’ you meself if you’re just gonna let the crowd do it.”

He scoffed, nudging your hand away before pulling you back into him. “You’d love that.”

You just smiled, resting your head against his shoulder.

You always knew Liam talked about you a lot in interviews. He wasn’t exactly subtle—never had been. Any time your name came up, he’d go off on one, grinning like a fool and saying something daft but sweet, completely unaware of how obvious he was being. And, yeah, people liked you together. You’d seen the comments, heard the jokes.

But you hadn’t realised it was bad enough for fans to start printing t-shirts about it.

The next morning, you woke up alone—only to hear some very distinct rummaging noises coming from down the hall.

Frowning, you pushed back the covers and got up, following the sounds until you reached the doorway of the laundry room.

And there, in all his glory, was Liam. Crouched in front of the laundry basket, digging through it like he’d lost something vital to his survival.

You blinked. “Are you seriously going through the dirty washing?”

Liam barely spared you a glance, still rummaging. “Where’s me top?”

Your brows lifted. “What?”

“The one from last night,” he muttered, growing increasingly impatient. “Where is it?”

You just stared at him for a second before it clicked. Then a slow, knowing smile spread across your face.

“Oh, wow.” You leaned against the doorframe. “You really liked it, didn’t you?”

Liam scoffed, standing up. “Did I?”

You snorted. “You’re ransacking the laundry for it, Liam.”

“I was just—” He waved a hand vaguely. “Didn’t want it goin’ missin’.”

You grinned, stepping forward to pat his cheek. “Well, relax. I washed it.”

Liam exhaled. “Right. So where is it, then?”

“Drying, you absolute lunatic.” You folded your arms, shaking your head. “Couldn’t even wait a full day, could you?”

He huffed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s a decent top, that’s all.”

You let out a quiet laugh, stepping closer to him, your arms resting loosely around his waist. “Right. Just a decent top. Definitely not your new favourite or owt.”

Liam rolled his eyes, but his hands slid up to hold your face anyway, thumbs brushing lightly against your skin. “You’re enjoyin’ this, aren’t ya?”

You hummed. “A little.”

Later that night, when he stepped out of the bedroom wearing that shirt again, you just shook your head.

“Obsessed.”

Liam shot you a grin as he grabbed his jacket. “Shut it.”

It didn’t take long for 'The Shirt' to take on a life of its own.

What started as a cheeky little thing between you and Liam quickly became an inside joke among the fans, the media—even people who had no business knowing about it. Anytime Liam was spotted in public, someone would shout about it. Anytime you posted a picture of him—Where’s the shirt, Liam? Anytime he did an interview—You still wearing that thing, mate?

And, because he was Liam, he just leaned into it.

He liked it and so he wore it to rehearsals, to the pub, to Tesco.

The shirt had somehow become an extension of Liam’s whole head over heels, can’t shut up about you if he tried persona, and he didn’t seem the least bit bothered by it. If anything, he leaned into it harder.

So, naturally, someone had to go and suggest he release it as merch.

Liam had scoffed at the very idea. “Nah, that’d be proper misinformation mate.”

The interviewer had blinked, clearly confused. “what do you mean?”

Liam leaned forward like it was obvious. “I am her boyfriend. You lot are not fuckin’ me, are ya? You could get 'Fan of Y/N’s Boyfriend' at a push.”

Eventually, though, the joke ran its course. Or at least, that version of it did. Because a year or so later, Liam had found a way to one-up himself.

Mid-gig, he stepped back from the mic, rolling his shoulders like he was getting ready to say something important. The band kept idly playing in the background, keeping the energy up, but the crowd could tell something was coming.

He glanced out over the sea of faces, smirking. “Right, you lot know about me favourite shirt, yeah?”

“Yeah, well… thing is, can’t be runnin’ round in that one anymore.” He started unzipping his jacket, taking his time just to wind them up, and then—he pulled it open.

The place erupted.

The same bold lettering, but a slight edit. "Y/N’s fiancée"

Liam just stood there, letting the reaction wash over him, chin tilted up, clearly proud of his little performance. A few of the lads in the band laughed, shaking their heads, but kept playing.

Backstage, you just shook your head, laughing as you leaned against the wall, already foreseeing the buzz this is going to cause.

At some point he glanced over mid-song, caught your eye, and gave you a look—just a slight quirk of his brow, a half-smirk.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stop smiling.

__________________________________________

another cute short story but I promise I have summat longer lined up for tomorrow you lot xx

per usual big thanks to @shes-thunderstormssss for the biblical idea 🙏

[satsugacafe]

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐔𝐫𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐇𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐏𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞…

➳❥ 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: If your requests are still open, can you do dating headcanons of Urahara Kisuke with a human with no powers like Uryu and Aizen :0? I really loved both of them!!!! They were so cute

➳❥ 𝐀/𝐍: Charmed that you liked the others I wrote for ☺️. For everyone whose favourite shopkeeper is a handsome guy without a Bankai. Enjoy!

➳❥ 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭: Headcanons for what it’s like to date the eccentric shopkeeper as a normal human

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

˚₊‧꒰ა Urahara Kisuke always found humans fascinating. Not in the detached, scientific way he studied Hollows or other supernatural phenomena, but in a quiet, thoughtful manner. There was something refreshing about people who weren’t caught up in the endless cycles of duty, war, and spiritual politics. When he first met you—a completely ordinary human with no spiritual powers whatsoever—it intrigued him more than he cared to admit.

˚₊‧꒰ა You’d wandered into his shop out of sheer curiosity, finding it tucked away in a quiet corner of Karakura Town. He watched you from behind the counter as you examined the odd items lining the shelves, clearly puzzled by the peculiar collection of goods. He’d let you browse in silence before finally calling out in that lazy, sing-song tone of his, “Welcome! Looking for something in particular, or just lost?”

˚₊‧꒰ა At first, he treated you like any other customer, but your repeated visits quickly changed that. You came back, not because you needed anything, but because you found his company oddly comforting. There was a strange charm to him—part mysterious shopkeeper, part eccentric scientist. He made you laugh with his odd sense of humour and impressed you with his seemingly endless knowledge about random topics.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You know,” he said one day, leaning casually against the counter, “most people don’t stick around once they realise I’m not selling anything useful. What keeps bringing you back here, hm?”

˚₊‧꒰ა You shrugged with a small smile. “Maybe I like being here.”

˚₊‧꒰ა That answer caught him off guard. He’d always been good at reading people, but you were harder to figure out. There was no hidden agenda, no ulterior motive. You simply enjoyed spending time with him, and that baffled him more than he cared to admit.

˚₊‧꒰ა Over time, you became a regular fixture in his life. You’d stop by the shop with coffee, sit with him while he tinkered with strange gadgets, and chat about mundane things—work, weather, books you’d read. It was so normal it almost felt foreign to him, but he found himself looking forward to those quiet moments more than he expected.

˚₊‧꒰ა Tessai and the kids noticed the change almost immediately. Tessai would give Kisuke knowing looks while Jinta and Ururu whispered behind his back, giggling like mischievous children. Kisuke pretended not to notice, but he wasn’t fooling anyone.

˚₊‧꒰ა One evening, after closing up the shop, he surprised you by inviting you to stay for dinner. He claimed Tessai had cooked too much, but you weren’t buying that excuse. Still, you accepted, and it quickly became a routine.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You don’t have to keep coming around, you know,” he teased one night, passing you a cup of tea. “I’m not that interesting.”

˚₊‧꒰ა “You’re more interesting than you think,” you replied, giving him a look that made his heart skip a beat.

˚₊‧꒰ა He wasn’t sure when it happened, but somewhere along the way, he started to care more deeply than he intended. He caught himself worrying about you when you were out late or feeling jealous when other people made you laugh. It was ridiculous, really. He’d spent centuries dealing with life-or-death situations, but your presence made him feel…vulnerable.

˚₊‧꒰ა Kisuke being Kisuke, tried to keep his feelings hidden behind his usual playful façade. But you saw through him more often than not.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You overthink everything,” you told him once, poking him lightly in the forehead. “Maybe try feeling for a change instead of analysing everything to death.”

˚₊‧꒰ა That hit closer to home than he wanted to admit. You weren’t wrong—he’d spent most of his life relying on his intellect, keeping people at arm’s length. But with you, it was different. He didn’t want to keep his distance.

˚₊‧꒰ა Eventually, he stopped fighting it. One night, as you were leaving the shop, he called out to you just before you reached the door, he would nervously and uncharacteristically, ask you out.

˚₊‧꒰ა Dating Kisuke was anything but ordinary. He’d surprise you with elaborate dates—picnics under the stars, late-night walks through the quiet streets of Karakura, even impromptu trips to hidden parts of the town you never knew existed. He had a knack for making the mundane feel magical.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You really don’t do anything halfway, do you?” you teased once after he’d somehow managed to set up a candlelit dinner in a secluded park. “I like to keep things interesting,” he replied with a wink.

˚₊‧꒰ა Despite his playful exterior, you saw glimpses of the more serious side of him. There were moments when he’d stare off into the distance, lost in thought, or when he’d absentmindedly fiddle with his fan, a faint shadow of melancholy crossing his face. You never pushed him to talk about it, but you always let him know you were there if he needed to.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You have your secrets,” you said once, resting your hand on his. “I’m not here to pry. I’m here because I care.” That simple statement meant more to him than you realised. In a world full of hidden agendas and dangerous secrets, your honesty was a rare and precious thing.

˚₊‧꒰ა Over time, he opened up more, sharing bits and pieces of his past. He told you about the Soul Society, his exile, and the dangers lurking just beyond the veil of the ordinary world. You listened without judgement, accepting him for who he was—not just the brilliant scientist or the exiled captain, but Kisuke, the man who made your heart race with a single smile.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You could have a normal life,” he told you one night, his voice unusually serious. “You don’t have to get involved in all of this.”

˚₊‧꒰ა “I’m exactly where I want to be,” you replied without hesitation. “With you.” Those words lingered with him, a constant reminder that even in the midst of chaos, he’d found something worth holding onto.

˚₊‧꒰ა Doesn’t hide his emotions when you’ve done something that touched his ear. He might not verbally express it, but the blush and his explosive reaction tell you enough. Bring him a meal of food, and he’s telling Tessai that you’re the new chef in the house.

˚₊‧꒰ა Urahara’s affection was subtle but undeniable. He’d bring you odd little gifts—an antique key with no lock, a beautifully painted fan, or a box of sweets he claimed were imported from “a very exclusive supplier.” You’d laugh and tease him about his dubious taste, but the care behind each gesture was clear

˚₊‧꒰ა There were moments of danger, of course. Being close to Kisuke meant you weren’t entirely safe from the spiritual threats that loomed over Karakura. But he did everything in his power to keep you protected, even if it meant keeping you in the dark about certain things.

˚₊‧꒰ა While you’re asleep, he already had Tessai set up a new defensive system, telling the poor man to create some new Kido to protect you and your neighbourhood. Jinta and Ururu are placed to guard your house for extra precautions.

˚₊‧꒰ა Jinta had let it slip out during a visit that he was never guarding your house all night, ever again, and that’s how you came to learn that he’s been going above and beyond to protect you. Gave him a little scolding for it and told him to go easy on his kids.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You’re terrible at hiding things from me,” you pointed out once when he tried to brush off a particularly nasty injury. “You might be a genius, but you’re not a very good liar.” He chuckled, wincing slightly as you gently cleaned his wound. “Guess I’ll have to work on that.”

˚₊‧꒰ა For all his quirks, Urahara was deeply protective. You noticed it in the way his playful eyes sharpened whenever someone approached you too quickly or in how he always seemed to position himself between you and any potential danger, however minor. “Can’t have my favourite human getting scratched, now can I?”

˚₊‧꒰ა Melts when you still give him kisses and caution him to be safe. And Kisuke always takes everything up a notch—his way of masking his affected state—by asking for another or more good luck affections. He’s bold enough to ask for this to be a regular thing each time he has to head out, stopping by your house for his kisses.

˚₊‧꒰ა We all know he’s touchy, but when you’re the one giving him the physical affections, of a moment, his hyperactivity dies down and all the noise vanishes. He’ll melt into your touch, visibly turning into a puddle, murmuring about how good your hug felt. Cuddle him and watch as he turns into a giant baby.

˚₊‧꒰ა He probably can’t remember the last time someone was this genuinely affectionate towards him, so he clings to every drop of affection. Your kisses to his forehead, the way you cradle his head and run your fingers through them, how you hold him to your chest and baby him. It’s a feeling he never wants to let go.

˚₊‧꒰ა Your simple human touch adds colour to his bleak life. Something he likes to whisper when you’re asleep as he kisses your cheeks. “I don’t know what I’ll do should something ever happen to you. You’re the light in my life.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Despite the risks, you never regretted being with him. He made you laugh, challenged you to think differently, and reminded you that even in a world full of supernatural dangers, there was still room for joy and love.

˚₊‧꒰ა Despite his mysterious nature, Urahara was a man of simple joys. He loved lazy mornings where he could sit outside with a cup of tea, the brim of his hat tilted just enough to catch the sun. You’d join him, and he’d share random musings about the weather, the birds, or the peculiarities of human behaviour.

˚₊‧꒰ა He had a mischievous streak a mile wide. One time, he convinced you to help him with a ‘harmless’ experiment, which ended with you glowing faintly for an entire day. “You look positively radiant!” he exclaimed, clearly delighted, while you swore revenge through gritted teeth.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You know,” he said one night, pulling you close as you stood on the shop’s rooftop, gazing at the stars, “for someone without powers, you’ve completely enchanted me.”

˚₊‧꒰ა You smiled, resting your head against his shoulder. “Good. It’s about time someone outsmarted you.”

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @edensrose

©satsugacafé: no permission to repost, plagiarise, copy or translate my work onto any other platform or this one.

[marauroon]

── .✦ 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝 (𝐬.𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤)

sirius is so adamant to prove his hatred for what his family stands for that he ends up becoming them.

sirius black x gn!reader | 3.1k | flangst | masterlist.

CW | slytherin reader, kind of bullying (marauders to reader), lots of arguing, enemies to lovers, slow burn, just general britishness

a/n — the og request was so enthusiastic so i hope this lives up to expectations 🤞

The corridors of Hogwarts are never quiet, always filled with the chatter of students, the rustling of robes, the distant hum of magical portraits gossiping amongst themselves.

You’ve grown used to it, just as you’ve grown used to the way Gryffindors look at you—like you’re something foul stuck to the bottom of their shoe.

It doesn’t bother you, not really.

You’ve learned to wear your green and silver with pride, to ignore the muttered remarks and judgmental glances.

Except for him.

Sirius Black doesn’t just glare. He sneers. He rolls his eyes. He makes a show of stepping aside when you pass, like even sharing the same air as you is offensive.

It would almost be funny if it weren’t so pathetic. If he weren’t so Sirius Black about it—dramatic, unrelenting, determined to make sure you know what he thinks of you.

“Merlin, I think the dungeon stench is getting stronger,” he drawls loudly one afternoon, just as you’re walking past him in the Entrance Hall. James, always eager to stir up trouble, chuckles beside him. “Might need to start carrying something to ward it off. What do you reckon, Moony?”

Remus doesn’t even look up from his book, but Peter snickers anyway.

You don’t hesitate. You stop, arching a brow as you tilt your head just slightly. “If you’re that worried about foul stenches, Black, maybe start with your own ego. Smells rancid from here.”

James whistles lowly, nudging Sirius in the ribs. “You gonna take that, mate?”

Sirius scoffs. “From a Slytherin?” His grey eyes flick over you dismissively, like you’re not worth the energy. “Please,”

It’s always the same with him—cold, cruel, hypocritical. And yet, every time he opens his mouth to throw another insult, all you can think is does he even realise how much he sounds like the very people he claims to hate?

But that’s the thing, isn’t it? Sirius is so desperate to prove he’s not like his family that he’s swung in the other direction entirely. His rebellion is as rigid as the ideals he’s rejecting.

The way he sees it, Slytherin equals the worst parts of his family, of the wizarding world, of everything he wants to burn to the ground. And you? You just happen to wear the wrong colours.

Fine. Let him hate you. You can hate him right back.

—

You don’t know what it is about today that makes you snap. Maybe it’s the way Sirius has been especially insufferable. Maybe it’s the way James is laughing at something he’s said, or the way Peter chimes in with a snide little comment of his own. Maybe it’s because Remus, for all his supposed mediation, never actually tells them to stop.

Or maybe it’s just because you’ve had enough.

“Honestly, mate, you’d think they’d at least try to be original,” Sirius muses, staring you down across the library table as you attempt—attempt—to focus on your Transfiguration notes. “But no. Same old pureblood rubbish, same old superiority complex. Must get exhausting,”

It’s not even a direct insult. Not really. Just another offhand remark, the same tired implication that your house defines you, that you must be just like the worst of them.

Something inside you snaps.

The chair scrapes harshly against the floor as you shove it back, standing before you even fully register what you’re doing. The words spill out before you can stop them, sharp and furious and ringing through the library loud enough that even Madame Pince glances over in alarm.

"If you’re so ‘against prejudice,’ then stop assuming that every single bloody green tie you see is the mark of a blood supremacist.”

Sirius freezes.

For the first time, you watch his usual cocky, self-assured expression falter. His lips part, as if reaching for some quick-witted comeback, some clever insult to throw back at you—but nothing comes.

James blinks. Peter’s mouth is slightly open, as though waiting for Sirius to say something. Even Remus looks up from his book now, brow furrowed, sensing something different in the air.

But you don’t wait for a response. You don’t need one.

You shake your head, scoff under your breath, and turn on your heel, leaving them in stunned silence as you march out of the library.

You don’t look back.

—

The words don’t leave Sirius alone. They lodge themselves in his brain, clawing at the edges of his thoughts, forcing their way in when he least expects it.

He tells himself it’s ridiculous. That he was right, that you’re just being defensive because, deep down, you know what Slytherin stands for. That you’re just like them.

…Except, what if you’re not?

The realisation sits uncomfortably in his chest. He doesn’t like it. He doesn’t want to like it.

Because if you’re right—if he’s spent all these years hating you for the same kind of blind, sweeping judgements he resents in his own family for—then what does that say about him?

The Marauders notice the shift almost immediately.

“You’re brooding,” James comments, flopping down on the common room sofa beside him. “That’s a Remus thing. You’re not allowed to brood,”

“I’m not brooding,” Sirius mutters.

“You are,” Remus agrees from the armchair, not even looking up from his book. “It’s a bit unsettling, actually,”

Peter squints at him. “Did you two have a duel we don’t know about? Because if they hexed your mouth shut, I think I might actually give them a round of applause,”

Sirius scowls, throwing a cushion at him. “Piss off.”

But later, when he’s lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, he still hears your voice.

"Stop assuming."

He hates that you might be right.

And Sirius Black is nothing if not stubborn.

Which is exactly why, the next morning, he decides to prove you wrong.

By being nice.

—

It starts small.

No insults. No remarks. No sneering looks when you pass by in the corridors. He doesn’t trip you in Potions, doesn’t scoff when Slughorn praises you for a well-brewed Draught of Living Death.

You notice, of course. But at first, you just assume he’s lost interest in his usual torment.

Then he starts doing things that make no sense.

Like defending you in conversation.

The first time, you assume you’ve misheard him. Some Gryffindor is mouthing off about Slytherins in the Great Hall—predictable—and you’ve already tuned it out when you hear Sirius scoff.

“You do realise you’re sounding exactly like my mother, right?” he says lazily, raising an eyebrow at the boy. “Or is irony just lost on you?”

The Gryffindor gapes at him. You do, too. Sirius doesn’t even look at you, just shoves another bite of toast into his mouth like he hasn’t just flipped his entire personality on its head.

Then he starts helping.

When Slughorn assigns a partnered essay in Potions, you groan inwardly as Sirius drops into the seat beside you.

"Relax, I’m not gonna hex your parchment," he says dryly, rolling his eyes. And then—worse—he actually pulls his weight.

It’s so painfully obvious that he’s overcompensating. That he’s doing this out of some ridiculous, guilt-driven need to prove a point. And it infuriates you.

Because now—after weeks of treating you like dirt—he suddenly decides to grow a conscience?

After class, you shove your books into your bag with more force than necessary and whirl on him.

“If you’re trying to make up for being an arse, don’t bother,” you snap. “It’s not an apology if you’re only doing it to make yourself feel better.”

Sirius looks taken aback for all of half a second before his jaw tightens. “That’s not—”

But you don’t wait to hear whatever half-baked excuse he’s about to come up with.

You just shake your head and walk away.

Again.

And the worst part?

This time, he actually looks frustrated about it.

—

Sirius doesn’t try to talk to you again for a while after that.

And for a moment, you think—Good. Let him stew in it. Let him realise that you’re not some guilt-induced redemption project. Let him finally get it through his thick skull that you don’t need, nor want, his forced attempts at kindness.

But then something strange happens.

He doesn’t go back to his usual ways. He doesn’t start throwing insults again, doesn’t return to sneering at you in the corridors or loudly making snide remarks whenever you’re in earshot.

Instead, he just… stops trying so hard altogether.

And that’s somehow even more infuriating.

Because now, instead of forced civility or open hostility, Sirius Black simply acts like you’re—normal. Like you’re just another person in the castle, not an enemy, not a cause for guilt, not someone to be proved wrong or right.

It’s unnerving.

You’re used to his usual extremes—hot or cold, cruel or obnoxiously overcompensating—but this new, balanced in-between? It throws you completely off.

And it gets worse.

Because the universe, apparently, hates you.

First, there’s the paired assignments—because of course McGonagall has the bright idea to randomly assign partners for an extensive Transfiguration project, and of course you end up stuck with him.

Then, there’s the detention—because James Potter and Evan Rosier just had to get into a hexing match in the middle of the corridor, and you just had to be in the splash zone when Flitwick rounded the corner. Now you’re forced to scrub cauldrons in the Potions classroom with Sirius Black, of all people.

And then—worst of all—there’s the Astronomy Tower.

It starts as another unfortunate coincidence. You head up to the tower late one night, unable to sleep, hoping for a moment of solitude beneath the stars. But as soon as you push the door open, you see a familiar figure already leaning against the stone railing.

For a moment, neither of you say anything.

You could leave. Turn around, pretend you never came up here, avoid another painfully awkward interaction. But Sirius—maybe out of some residual stubbornness, maybe out of something else—just sighs and shifts slightly to the side.

Not enough to make a big deal out of it. Just enough to make room.

And against your better judgement, you take it.

Minutes pass in silence. It’s strange—peaceful, but charged in a way you can’t quite explain.

Then, in a voice so quiet you almost don’t hear it, Sirius says, “I never actually thought about it, you know,”

You frown, glancing at him. “Thought about what?”

His gaze stays fixed on the stars, but there’s something distant in it—something tired. “How I treated you,” he admits. “I just—” He exhales sharply, shaking his head. “I was so focused on not being my family, I didn’t stop to think about what that actually meant. I thought hating everything they stood for was enough, but—I ended up doing the same thing, just in a different direction,”

You stare at him, not entirely sure what to say.

Because this is different. This isn’t him trying to prove a point. It’s not a dramatic display of guilt or some exaggerated attempt at redemption. It’s just… honest.

You lean against the railing, crossing your arms. “Took you long enough to figure that out,”

He chuckles, and—Merlin help you—you don’t hate the sound of it as much as you should. “Yeah. It did,”

Silence settles between you again, but this time, it’s comfortable.

And somewhere—between detentions and forced partnerships and nights beneath the stars—you start to realise something else.

You don’t hate him anymore.

It happens slowly. So slowly, in fact, that you don’t realise it’s happening at all.

One moment, Sirius Black is the boy who made your life miserable. The next, he’s the one you’re arguing with over which essay topic is more interesting in the library. The one who always seems to find himself sitting near you at meals, not with you, but near enough. The one who makes exasperated faces at you in class when someone says something particularly stupid.

And then—one day—he’s the one standing between you and a wand aimed at your chest.

You don’t even see who casts the spell. One second, you’re walking back from Charms; the next, someone shouts “Confringo!” and the air crackles with heat. You barely register what’s happening before a body collides with yours, knocking you out of the way as the spell slams into the stone wall behind you.

When you land, it’s hard, Sirius’s weight pressing you against the ground, shielding you before he rolls off just as quickly. The world tilts for a second before you push yourself up, heartbeat thudding in your ears.

Sirius is already on his feet, wand out, furious.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” His voice is sharp, dangerous in a way you’ve never heard before. It’s not his usual bravado—not the arrogant drawl he puts on when taunting someone. It’s real, raw anger.

Whoever cast the spell is already gone, footsteps echoing down the corridor.

Your pulse is still racing when you realise he’s turned back to you. “Are you—?” He stops, eyes scanning you quickly for any sign of injury before he shakes his head. “That was—” He cuts himself off again, pressing his lips together, looking angrier than ever.

You exhale sharply, pushing yourself fully upright. “I had it under control.”

He lets out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Yeah? That why you were about to get set on fire?”

You glare at him. “Oh, piss off, Black—”

“I just saved your life—”

“I would’ve been fine—”

You don’t realise how close you are until the argument stops.

You’re both still breathing hard, tension thick between you, too much heat in the air that has nothing to do with the spell. His hand is still half-raised, like he wants to reach for you but thought better of it.

His grey eyes are darker than usual, scanning your face like he’s searching for something—like he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to find.

And suddenly, you don’t either.

Your throat feels dry.

Why are you looking at him like that?

Worse—why is he looking at you like that?

You blink first, stepping back, shaking off the moment like it was nothing. “I’m fine,” you mutter, brushing imaginary dust off your robes. “You can stop looking at me like I’m about to drop dead,”

Sirius hesitates. Then, just as quickly, he rolls his shoulders, slipping back into something more familiar—tilting his head, raising a brow, smirking like none of it ever happened. “If you say so,”

But as you turn away, you feel his gaze linger.

And that’s when it really starts.

It’s slow, almost imperceptible at first.

Conversations that used to be sharp and barbed are now laced with something else—something softer, something almost teasing. Your insults have lost their bite; his smirks have stopped feeling like a challenge.

Then, there are the looks.

Stolen glances across classrooms. Raised eyebrows in the Great Hall when someone says something particularly idiotic. That half-smile he gives you when you say something sarcastic under your breath, like you’ve shared some private joke no one else gets.

And the touches.

His knee bumping yours under the table in the library. Fingers brushing when he hands you a quill. The way he slings an arm around James’s shoulders so often that you don’t think much of it when he does the same to you.

Until—one evening—you do.

You’re both where you always seem to end up lately—next to each other at a table, books spread out between you, quills scratching against parchment.

It’s late, and most students have already trickled back to their dorms. The candlelight flickers, casting shadows over Sirius’s face as he leans back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head with a groan.

You’re half-asleep, scribbling something about Vanishing Spells when you feel it—his fingers, barely there, skimming against your wrist.

It’s absentminded, thoughtless. But he doesn’t move away.

And neither do you.

You should.

You really should.

But all you can think about is that moment in the corridor. The way he looked at you. The way you looked back.

“This is stupid,” he mutters.

“You’re stupid,” you reply automatically, not even looking up from your notes.

Sirius huffs a laugh. “Brilliant comeback,”

“Thanks,” You flip a page. “Took me ages to come up with it,”

There’s a pause. Not an awkward one—just the kind that’s started to feel normal between you. Easy.

Then Sirius shifts, resting his arms on the table, fingers tapping idly against the wood. “You know,” he says, voice quieter now, more thoughtful, “I don’t think I hate you anymore.”

You freeze.

Slowly, carefully, you lift your gaze from your book. Sirius isn’t smirking, isn’t making a joke of it. He’s just looking at you—calm, steady, like he’s only just realising it himself.

Your throat feels weirdly tight. You swallow. “Oh?”

He nods once. “Yeah.”

You don’t know why your heart is suddenly beating too fast.

You could joke about it. Could roll your eyes, make some sarcastic remark about how long it’s taken him. Could pretend like this moment doesn’t feel like the ground shifting beneath you.

But you don’t.

Instead, after a moment, you nod back.

“I don’t think I hate you either.”

It’s quiet. Undramatic. But as Sirius’s mouth quirks up—just slightly, just enough—you realise it’s the most important thing you’ve said in a long time.

[spvcekittie]

jinx x fem chubby reader smut like first time (but sweet like a lil vanilla yk)

You’re Perfect

(border creds to @/cafekitsune)

cw. cunnilingus, reader has issues with their body, slight angst (eventful fluff) reader is f but uses they / them prns

pairings. chubby!reader / jinx

wc. 2k

MDNI 18+

thank u so much for the req! i hope i did it justice =^.^=

you’d never imagined your first time with jinx to go this way. but you soon realise you wouldn’t have it any other way; jinx’s lips on yours, coaxing soft whines and moans from your own, hips moving, slotting between your legs.

you find yourself where you are now when the two of you were having a horror movie marathon; she’d insisted the two of you have one to celebrate halloween. usually you wouldn’t cave, being far too scared of her picks, but with all hallows eve right around the corner, you figured why not. wouldn’t hurt, right?

correct!

you feel yourself jolt at the hand on your thigh, and you see jinx in your peripheral, biting on her bottom lip supposedly to suppress the smirk blooming through. you stiffen.

the two of you had never done anything before— well, that’s a lie. you’d done some stuff, some simple grinding and making out, but whenever she gets too close, too handsy, you always have to tell her no.

she obliges of course, pouting with a curt nod of her head before she settles back beside you with a flop.

you’d always felt insecure in your weight, in the rolls of your stomach, the way your arms seem just about too big to be proportionate. you’d never tell jinx this, as you know she’d just go on a whole tangent. or at least, you think.

what if she just laughs?

what if she laughs in your face, telling you that your suspicions are in fact true?

would she ever want to touch you again?

surely not.

.. does she want to touch you? or does she just feel obligated? surely she does, right? some people feel that way in relationships and jinx’s past would suggest the latter — feeling like she has to do stuff in order for praise, for people to not leave her.

surely not.

you jolt to a halt, eyes frozen and wavering on the tv. you seem to get tunnel vision with the way you stare up at the tv. jinx notices, cocking her head your way and slipping her hand down to your knee, rubbing loose circles into the skin there.

“you good?” she has her usual quip, tilting her head into your line of sight. “you’re frozen like a gargoyle—“

she giggles to herself, before your eyes meet her own. you watch the pink in her eyes shrink at the attention, pupils taking up all the space in her iris. she snaps out of whatever stupor she was in, suddenly adorning an expression of fright.

“shit, did i do something?” she gasps, flinching away from your knee like it was scalding hot. “fuck, i did something! i did something, didn’t i?”

it’s your turn to be mortified, jaw dropping as you bring your hands up, waving them in surrender in front of you. “no, nonono— you haven’t done anything, I swear,”

she blinks, once. twice. three, four times before the weight finally seems to sag from her shoulders. she lets out a breath she hadn’t realise she’d been holding, sniffling out a sharp ‘whew’.

“i just—..” you start, cringing at the way your voice cracks. should you even go there? what if she thinks you’re disgusting for thinking that way?

she seems attentive enough, and you swear if she had ears on the top of her head they’d be standing upright. she perks up, uncharacteristically straightening her usually curved back.

fuck, get over yourself, [name].

“i’m scared that maybe if we ever went further with..” you cringe, scrunching your nose as you ponder the next few words. “y’know. exploring each other,”

you mentally face palm, the comedic slap ringing through your head.

you’re dumbfounded.

“you’d maybe think i was disgusting for the way i look?” you draw out the last word, feeling yourself shudder at the second hand embarrassment.

jinx doesn’t even look phased — at most bewildered.

she sighs, letting her head drop, eyes tunneling down onto her fidgeting hands. she seemed to be nervous for what you wanted to say too, but you’re pulled back from your thoughts at the hand taking your own.

“i don’t… care.” she states simply, sounding almost defeated you’re having this conversation, like you should already know she doesn’t care how you look.

you sag. this is not the answer you wanted, and she notices this.

“no— i do care!” she starts up again, waving a hand in admission. “i just mean i don't mind how you look. i think you’re.. beautiful. i wish you could see yourself the way i do.”

she sighs, scrunching her nose and recoiling at her words like they left a sour taste in her mouth. she hates being open, being honest with you. she’s afraid it makes her look weak, like her vulnerability takes away from the big scary jinx persona she’s built up for herself over the past however long you’d known each other.

( 2 years! )

“you don’t mean that.” you state simply, squeezing her hand in your own.

“what makes you think i don’t?” she queries, eyes flitting up at your huddled form. “you know how much i love you.”

you feel a jolt down between your legs, a familiar warmth blooming in your belly. she seems sincere enough, but that void that fills your lungs seems to only grow thicker and thicker. it almost hurts to breathe.

what if you just let go this one time? this one time? ‘if you hate it you never have to do it again’ you tell yourself. in your head you’re standing opposite yourself, leering over their cowering body before comedically slapping their face, forcing some sense into them.

get it together.

you can’t deny how much you want her, and you feel almost possessed when you lean forward, tilting your head to meet hers. she seems taken aback, moaning softly into the kiss as her hand finds your face.

her thumb meets your jaw, rubbing soothing circles into the bone. you suck in a breath when her teeth meet your bottom lip, and you reciprocate with fervour, clambering to situate yourself over top of her.

she kisses her way down your neck, shaking her head with a curt ‘nuh uh!’. once she has your shirt off she’s turning you so you’re on your back, left flushed beneath her — and most importantly naked.

you feel the most exposed you’ve ever felt, but you don’t feel insecure. under jinx’s warm gaze you can feel just how much she wants you, the way her smile reaches her eyes before she leans in to the junction of your neck. her hands trail upward, sliding further up up up till they reach your chest.

gasping out her name, you buck up instinctively into her touch. you find yourself heaving beneath her hand, swift and admiring grasp at your chest, gently circling over your sensitive nipple.

“jinx..” you sigh, shuddering up into her touch. you feel love drunk, words sloshing together as though you could barely keep your head up.

she seems to notice, humming a chuckle into your neck. that chuckle follows her down, down past your chest, past your stomach where she now sits, laid between your legs. trembling, you can only watch as she situates your legs over her shoulders, holding them there by curling her arms over top.

“you— you don’t have to—“ you’re cut off by a light slap against your thigh. your eyes fall, jaw dropped in a balk to where she’s laid, pointer finger pressed against her thumb where she drags it along her lips. zzzzzzip!

she throws away the makeshift key.

then contradicts the motion like she hadn’t just done it.

“i want to. you hear me?” she tilts her head, resting against the slope of your thigh. “i want to.”

nodding shakily, you allow yourself to situate back against the pillows. you feel at ease knowing she wants this, even if it’s only at least a bit. though she does seem eager; tongue darting out to comically lick at her lip, fingers curling over the laced rim of your panties.

she pulls and you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding in. fully exposed now, jinx looks like she just won the lottery — if her pupils could shift and change at will she’d be seeing dollar signs right now. she looks between you and your pussy, bringing two fingers down to slide through your slit, gathering up all the slick that’d gathered there.

your underwear is soaked, and you see that now with her jeering beneath you, swinging your underwear jokingly around her finger.

“you’re soaked, baby.” she muses, cocking a brow and letting your panties drop to the floor. “this all for me?”

your body seems to react before your mind, and you’re nodding rapidly, hair shaking from the intensity. she can see you’re eager, and so wastes no more time in parting your thighs. she hums out a sigh, drawing a long inhale up the center, before letting her tongue part your lips, licking her way through to your sopping hole.

the reaction is instantaneous; bucking hips and lips parting to accommodate the sharp gasp that’s ripped from you. the gasp trembles off into a whine when she places a well-deserved flick over your clit, drawing her tongue there for a moment longer just to see you squirm. her hand finds your abdomen, pressing on your stomach to keep you from bucking up from her touch.

she wants control.

your earlier hesitation melts away, dripping off jinx’s tongue and down her chin. you heave, chest trembling at her ministrations. she’s good — far too good. the sloppy sounds fill the secluded room, filling the space with a stuffy heat that feels suffocating. you feel it squeezing at your lungs, encouraging the soft moans you manage to choke out.

she smirks, snarky and knowing. the look in her eyes is almost enough to send you over the edge, the coil tightening a mile in your abdomen. you’re on the brink of an orgasm, legs trembling and brows drawing up right as she makes the move of pressing tight circles into your clit.

“you can come, honey,” she coaxes, pressing soothing kisses over your soaking pussy, now just as soaked as her mouth. “come on, baby.”

peering up and over your chest is the final straw; the sight of her covered in your juices, dripping from her chin. the dark void that drowns the pinks in her eyes, full of lust. the way her purple lipstick is smudged down the corners of her mouth.

it’s too much—

white hot pleasure crushes through your being, zipping up your spine as you finally reach the peak. you hear jinx somewhere beneath you, like she’s cheering you on. you feel her fingers, slim and soaked driving through your slick. the obscene sounds fill the room, against your moans — now bordering pornographic.

it’s a while till you come down fully from your high. hands dragging down the sides of your sweaty face. you can feel just how heated you are, and you know you must be beet-red by now.

the thought makes you flush even more in embarrassment.

jinx on the other hand, seems to be having the time of her life; crawling up your body to curl in beside you, snuggling close to your warmth. she beams from where she lays, resting her head on your chest and peering up curiously at you.

“you did so well,” she comments, stroking a thumb over the corner of your mouth.

she looks disheveled herself, hair frizzy and drawn upright. thank god for the braids, otherwise you’d imagine her hair sticking up in any and every direction ever. this warms your insides, makes it all fizzy. you assume this is what people mean when they say they have butterflies in their stomach.

you smile.

“you’re perfect.”

A.N yay first request done! plz check my pinned for info if you want to submit anything <3

[swanimagines]

Hi! Can I get Anakin Skywalker + Til Death Do Us Part by Kait Weston? Thank you!

TIL DEATH DO US PART

The bedroom you shared with Anakin had been left untouched for days since you came back from Mustafar. You had avoided going there all this time, until Obi-Wan talked to you and told you to go check it, as he believed it could make you start your grieving process.

As if he’d know anything about love, you thought bitterly as you stood at the door. He hasn’t loved anyone like I loved Anakin.

But you knew deep inside that he was right. Avoiding the room, the messy sheets, his night robe he always left on his side of the bed, would just make things worse. You knew your mind was desperately trying to pretend that everything was fine, he wasn’t dead. Mustafar never happened. The younglings are fine, probably training. Or playing. Maybe Palpatine got exposed, but Anakin helped the Jedi to defeat him.

But then your sense and memories reminded you of that day. It reminded you about you rushing to save Anakin, but you were too late. You got there to witness Obi-Wan defeat him, and it was like Anakin didn’t even see you, his eyes were on Obi-Wan the whole time as you screamed for him, frantically trying to see a way to get down, help drag him up, fix him.

But even then, you knew he was beyond fixing now. He would have been arrested and probably sentenced to death. You would only delay what would be coming for him anyway.

So you stepped into the room, breathing out with a small sob the moment you smelled Anakin’s scent lingering at the doorway. And you couldn’t bear to turn your head, so you made your way straight to the balcony, where you gripped the railing so hard you were unsure if it was healthy.

You took in a shaky breath, looking at the sky, the stars twinkling over Coruscant. Imagining he’d somehow hear you. “I’m sorry, Anakin. You had a hard time with what happened to your mother, and I didn’t fully see it before it was too late. The sight of what happened was haunting me, but I didn’t realise how much it was haunting you, how you needed help to overcome it. Seeing you turn into what killed you was a dagger to my heart, but I forgive you. I decided to keep my vow to you even after all this, til death do us part.”

You took in another breath, closing your eyes, letting yourself imagine for just a moment that Anakin wrapped his arms around you, telling you everything was alright. That it was just a bad dream, maybe make you laugh a little at the absurdity of it.

“Do you honestly think I would do such a thing?” he’d say, cupping your cheek. “I wouldn’t do anything that threatens what we have.”

But that wouldn’t happen, he would never come back.

—

Far away from Coruscant years later, Darth Vader stood at the deck of the large windows of this Imperial ship he was now commanding. Despite feeling slight regret for what he did to you in particular, leaving you alone, breaking all his promises, he quickly embraced the darkness. Master Palpatine told him that once he’d let the Dark Side take over, it’d give him power to get over all the useless heartbroken feelings.

But when he stared out from the windows, a whisper of something old and familiar suddenly engulfed him.

Your scent.

And your voice. A few echoing sobs first, followed by “What you did was a dagger to my heart, but I forgive you.”

It was like the Force itself carried your words to him through the galaxy, seeking for lost love, trying to find a heart those words belonged to. Vader squeezed his hands to fists, staring at the nothingness of space.

And for just a moment, he let himself feel the weight of words you spoke, the longing, the ache. You thought he was dead, and it was better that way.

“Til death do us part.”

It had parted you in a sense. Anakin Skywalker was dead and only he remained. At least that's what he was telling himself, Anakin was dead, Vader killed him, along with Anakin’s love for you.

If only he’d believe in it.

Requests are open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[pukefactory]

there is NO bobette content and this is ATROCIOUS!! bobette x reader who loves her chub. sfw? nsfw? do whatever the hell you want. i just need more appreciation of that big back bobette 😭😭😭

⋆⁺₊❅. SANTA’S GROTTO ⋆⁺₊❅.

❆ Summary: Bobette gets a little tickle from a reader who loves her chub

❆ Character(s): Bobette (Dandy’s World)

❆ Reader Pronouns: Non Specified

❆ Genre: Short Story, Fluff, SFW

❆ Word Count: 359

❆ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

Crunch. Crunch.

The moist sound of cookies being crushed between Bobette’s teeth seemed endless this afternoon. Ginger had made a fresh batch of gingerbread cookies, and since Bobette was particularly fond of her cooking, she had taken the entire batch for herself. Now, she was devouring them as if they were going out of style. You didn’t mind, even as crumbs rained down on your head—her stomach was just too comfortable to pull away from.

Bobette never seemed insecure about her weight, which was a good thing, of course, but you doubted she realised just how much you adored her softness. Whenever you had the chance, you would rest your head against her stomach, gently placing your hand on its plush surface as you drifted in and out of sleep. Needless to say, you were a big fan. You often wondered what it would feel like without the barrier of her sweater. How soft was it really? Would she let you kiss it too? You could only hope.

Crunch. Crunch.

As she happily munched away, you noticed her sweater had lifted slightly, revealing a glimpse of her belly. Seizing the opportunity, you carefully slid your hand underneath. The moment you did, Bobette let out a startled laugh.

“Haha, what are you doing? That tickles!” she giggled through a mouthful of food.

“I just wanted to touch your stomach,” you admitted. “You don’t mind, do you?”

She shook her head enthusiastically, giving you permission to continue.

The more you squeezed and explored the softness of her belly, the more ticklish she became. When you leaned in to plant kisses against her chub, she erupted into laughter, nearly choking on her cookie.

Her legs twitched, and she clung to you as giggles spilled from her lips, tears nearly forming in her eyes.

“Stop, stop! Haha—too much, too much!”

“Hehe, okay, okay.” You relented, letting her catch her breath—but, of course, you weren’t about to give up your favorite spot.

Settling back against her stomach, you nestled into her warmth, now free to gently hold her softness in your hands as she resumed eating. You definitely had to do this more often.

[bondwithme-murderstyle]

Who's The Boss? pt.2 aaron hotchner x fem!reader

wc: 1.7k

Summary: Aaron Hotchner has some time before heading to Quantico and embarking on his new position within the BAU. He decides that now would be a good time to gather some of his buddies and head off on a vacation to Miami before his life is turned on its head.

warnings: +18, mdni!! vacation setting with explicit descriptions but no physical acts (save that for pt.3), smoking because it's the '90s and this man with a cigarette is my holy grail, a tiny paragraph releasing haley from this story-line, essentially just verbal-foreplay, reader is described as having hair (???) that gets wet in the pool, definitely dom!aaron and his dirty mouth, no use of y/n, not as romantic as my dream had originally perceived him but we'll take what we can get in the moment

an: i am so sorry this had to be split up! freakin' word-limit posts

~When his friends passed you by, they gave small looks- knowing looks that made your heart race. A part of you said that it was now-or-never. To go before his friends returned and gave him hell. But as you prepared to stand and rid yourself of the towel, you glanced over and he was no longer reading. He was back in the pool and looking at you. His brow raised slightly above his frames and he lifted one hand from the water to beckon you over with two fingers.~

Your body screamed, your mind tore itself apart. But you listened. And you met him halfway.

Instead of jumping right into the water, you decided to sit on the edge, half-way between his spot in the sun and yours. Once your legs were submerged up to your knees, he made a half-attempt at swimming across. One long stroke was all it took from him to reach you and you thanked God your sunglasses remained on your face to at least hide some of your excitement. His arms held him up at the edge, his elbow brushing your thigh and it took him a moment to say anything.

“Do you always stare at strangers, stranger?”

“Only when they’re worth staring at.” You answered and swallowed thickly, supporting yourself on the pool edge with your arms polka-straight and your nails wrapping against the tile that washed and flushed with water. “You and your friends always arrange your dates like this, out in the open?”

This made him laugh and look away for a moment, “Yeah, well, they’re idiots!” His choice of words made you feel relaxed. To know that you weren’t in the presence of another idiot. “I’m Aaron. Hotchner.” His head turned to look up at you and extended his hand. You rolled your lips together and decided to just fuck it. You shook his hand politely with a gentle ‘hi’ and resumed kicking your legs gently in the water.

“So, you and your boys are down here blowing off steam?”

“Well, you could say that. It’s summer.”

“And, you don’t have a job in the summer?”

“I’m currently changing positions. Was a prosecutor. Soon to be FBI.”

“Ooh.” A purr escaped you but you remained cool, nodding and looking elsewhere. “Sounds thrilling.”

“We’ll see.” He concurred and turned to lean his back against the wall of the pool, trying to follow your gaze that never quite seemed to settle. “And you’re on vacation too.”

“Mmhmm. Seattle doesn’t get much sun like this. Figured I deserved a real summer-break.” You agreed and gave away your first clue. Your location. Not that Aaron noticed much. He instead scanned the pool-deck and relaxed when he realised his friends had become distant memories. “So, should I call you ‘Agent’?” You tried to tease him.

“Call me whatever you like.” He quipped and turned to face you again, this time right in front of your legs. Your feet ceased their relaxed kicks and his hands worked beneath the water to take hold of your calves and separate them just enough to make space for him. You didn’t know what else to do other than let him wade between your legs and look up at you with a gruff sigh, “What are the odds I’d ever see you again anyway?”

“Slim-to-none. It’s a big country, Agent.” You hummed again and tried to ignore his large hands that had now come to rest on the outside of your thighs. They engulfed your skin and left behind beads of water that cooled instantly in the soft ocean breeze. Your body continued to scream, the heat in your belly even took the liberty of giving little heart-stopping flips every time his fingers moved as he steadied himself in the water.

“So, in the interest of probably never meeting each other again; are we just going to keep on staring or are we going to do something about this, sweetheart?”

Your head stopped panning to each sound around you and you looked down at him now, a perfect position you had found yourself to be in. Sweetheart. You wanted to whine and ask to hear it again. Instead, you smiled at him and his shameless motion.

“Well, Aaron,” You shifted a little closer to the edge but remained to keep your hands to yourself, “I’m assuming that you have something in mind. What, with your friends gone and all. Otherwise you wouldn't have invited me over here.”

“I wasn’t planning to be here when they came back.” He looked up when your legs closed slightly around him, “I wasn’t planning for you to stick around either.”

“Oh?” Your smile remained, albeit a little brighter, “That’s rather presumptuous, don’t you think?”

“Forgive me, but you haven’t exactly pushed me out from between your legs since I got here," his head gestured down to the small space between your body and his chest, tongue running along his bottom lip, "In fact, you came closer. Not very presumptuous when everybody knows you want it.” Aaron rolled his lips together completely and he was waiting for you to answer. But you couldn’t. He was right and he knew it. “And we’re in a public setting. So if there was anything else you wanted to do, other than stare at me, you can’t exactly do it here, can you?”

“And you don't want to do something?”

“I can tell you in incredible detail what I’d like to do- what I will do. Hopefully, that'll convince you that I’m right?”

“But, like you said, we’re in public.”

Your counter-argument made him smile and his voice dropped lower, quieter, “And nobody around us can hear me tell you that; I can’t wait to feel you cum… all... over... my... tongue.” His face remained arrogant, his smile permanently small almost as he delivered filthy promises across the space between you. His fingers dug that little bit deeper into your flesh and caused you to gasp and hold your breath. “Nobody here knows that we’re going to go upstairs,” his digits started to drag slightly on your skin, “where I’ll taste every perfect inch of you," he purred at you and the images flashing through your mind would bear no resistance to the reality, "where I'll make you kneel. just for me on your cold room floor,” his head tilted slightly for any sign on your face that this was wrong, “and fuck that pretty little mouth that turned down my friend in favour of me.”

Your lips parted and your eyes widened slightly behind your shades. He had been reading your mind. Aaron took in a breath, leaving his proposition hanging between you both. Had it not been a public setting, you would’ve been in the water with him, eagerly tasting him and feeling those large hands elsewhere. "You'll say thank-you." He reasoned quietly, "Hopefully, you'll say it over... and over again," Aaron came close enough that you could feel his words ricochet like a pinball between your thighs and by now you were pooling, "Because, if you don't, I'll definitely remind you." A few ridiculous words and your body was thrumming, your blood raced as it pulsed through your veins. It was hard to keep your mouth from falling further open and it took every fibre of your being to keep composure by the poolside.

"I-Is that right, Agent?" You asked with a throbbing core and a weak voice, leaning closer to him.

“You’ll give me your room number... And you’ll go upstairs and wait, just as you are,” his massaging touch on your thighs was a perfect chorus to his words, tugging gently with his fingers and pulling just tight enough that you were ready to slip into the water, “for me to convince you, inch by inch.”

You gently bit at your lower lip, cheeks flushed hot and it was agreed. “1219.” You said and this was enough for him to bow his head in a subtle nod and pull away to swim back to his sun-beaten corner of the pool.

[cloudedwonder]

yandere stalker! oc (fern) x reader ──★ ˙🧷

“can i brush your hair?” you had asked him, a small heat spreading across your cheeks at the careless question. he tilted his head at you, a look of consideration placing itself upon his features before it was replaced by confusion.

“brush my hair? b-but why? why would you ever need to do that?” he asked.

he paused from where he had been before, his hands coming to a still from the shoulder massage he’d been treating you to. you’d once asked him why he bothered to, and he had told you it made him smile seeing you at ease and in comfort.

he was happy. happy that you were starting to accept your *home* with him.

you gave him a sheepish-half smile, your handcuffs clinking against the frame of the bed as you did so.

“you don’t take care of it. it’s a shame to see such lovely hair being neglected.”

it seemed your sweet talking was beginning to work, red flushing across his face. he gave you a nervous laugh.

“you want to take care of me? my hair’s so messy though… i don’t want it to frustrate you if you can’t brush it out.” he said, but as he did he took out the key for the handcuffs and removed them you gave him a grateful nod, and he lightly helped you caress your wrists.

“i’d like to try anyhow.” you responded.

moments later, he was seated in front of a vanity. many times it had been you sat there, staring into the mirror as he ran his fingers through your hair. he would rub circles into your scalp, as though trying to absorb your every thought, before letting his fingers escape downwards to comb through your hair, before repeating it once more.

it was a change to see the roles reversed.

he suggested you comb out his hair, first and foremost before beginning to brush it. you nodded and told him you’d been planning to do so, and he told you he didn’t mind if you played with his hair as you did so.

his hair felt dry. he had seen you eyeing a hair oil on the desk and as such handed it to you, a small pout on his face.

“this one was supposed to be for you! what a waste to use it on me.” he sighed. the bottle stated it was a blend of rosemary and coconut oil, and the scent was calming.

you swiped the liquid against your hands, before placing them on his head. you patted his head, and as you helped him fix the nest that he had formed there was a comfortable silence held between the two of you.

eventually, he began to hum as you did so. you stared towards the mirror and realised that his eyes were shut. you couldn’t help the thought that he looked truly contented, a small smile present on his face.

he leaned his head backwards into your embrace. it had you feeling at ease, paired with the sound of his pleasant lulls and the texture of his slowly softening hair against your fingers.

over time, the frustrating tangles began to even out. he had paused his humming at a time once he’d noticed you hesitating upon brushing the mess. he had held your hands towards them, telling you to ‘go as harshly as you desired’ before restoring his hums.

“where is that song from?” you had asked.

he paused, and stared at you through the mirror, a calm look on his face.

“my mother. she used to sing it to me at nighttime when i couldn’t fall asleep.”

you let out a sound of acknowledgement, continuing to run your fingers through his hair. there was a calm atmosphere once more, before your curiosity got the better of you.

“you don’t mention going out to see her. does she live far?”

his eyes seemed to glaze over before he responded.

“my father killed her.”

you contemplated what he had just told you, your head slightly tilting at the thought that perhaps it’s explained some of his behaviours. he stared up at you through the mirror, before shaking his head lightly and breaking you out of your small trance.

“but what does it matter? i despise myself for being unable to have saved her, but it taught me everything i know now in order to take care of you.”

the thought made you uncomfortable, though you gave him a small nod. he gave you a small giggle, as though trying to lighten the mood, but he failed to resume with his humming, a silence stretching between the two of you.

eventually you had gotten bored, your motions become slower and slower. he had noticed, directing the both of you into bed. he held you again as though nothing had happened, and you hugged him accordingly as he had told you he liked it.

you heard him humming the same song again as you drifted off, but it lacked the tranquility it had held before, now sounding more as though it were a comfort for the both of you, to take your minds away from the truth the past held. ──★ ˙🧷

[louis-the-french-one]

Smosh Cast X GN Reader / Damien Haas X GN Reader

Type: funny/fluff

Relationship: Friends/Coworkers

Summary: Reader is a cast member at Smosh and it's their time to be the host of 'What would (blank) do?"

Use of they/them pronouns for reader

Reader is around 28

1.556 words

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“Welcome everyone to what would [reader] do! The show where I will be reading some questions, give my honest answer and then my friends will try to guess that answer.” [reader] presents from their clearest voice, looking at the camera in front of them.

Behind the camera Emily the director gives them a sign to continue longer with the intro. The young cast member stops nervously and thinks for a few seconds before chuckling and remembering. “And the friends in question here today are Angela, Tommy and Damien Haas.” Emily nods.

“Why does Damien gets to have a last name and not us? That’s not fair!” Angela interjects.

“With me are Angela Giarra-” They try to start again.

“Oh no no it’s fine, don’t bother.” Angela turns to look away from [reader], faking being hurt.

“But that’s true, why don’t I get a last name? Is it because I’m gay?” Suddenly says Tommy, seeing the situation as the perfect time to crack his first joke.

All cast members crack up laughing, Angela turning back to face her friends. The youngest already having their face in their hands realising how chaotic this shoot is going to go.

“Well, it’s okay, we can’t all be [reader]’s favourite.” Damien let’s out grinning at Angela and Tommy while fidgeting with his pen.

“Yeah exactly you both will get a last name when you get to Damien’s level.” [reader] jumps in on the joke, entering a serious composure not daring looking at their friends. Not wanting to linger on the thought that the joke may hold some truth. “Anyway, time for the first question.”

They pick up the first card. “Congratulations, I have won the lottery, what do I do with my winnings?” [reader] says with an excited tone.

The young cast member holds the pen in their hand, tapping it on the table trying to think of the answer. Damien holds up his mini white board, thinks for a few seconds then glances toward [reader] and starts to write down his answer. Angela is chuckling to herself writing.

“So the lottery is like, millions right, like a LOT right” asks Tommy.

“Yeah, basically if I had a tone of money, what would I do?” answers [reader].

“Okay, okay.” Nods Tommy.

After a bit, when everyone is done writing, the director tells [reader] to start asking for the answers.

“Okayyy, um… Angela I heard you chuckling, what did you write?”

Angela flips her board. On it is written ‘PLUSHIES’.

“Plushies?” Asks [reader].

“no, it’s PLUSHIES. I think you would buy lots of plushies. Or like you know the big ones they have in fairs? I think if you had money you’d by TONS of them. I was picturing you with all those giants plushies in your small apartment and the image made me laugh. Just, let’s just go to someone else’s answer.” She shakes her head and starts wiping her board.

“NO, no, that’s good I do really like plushies. But I do already have big ones at home I don’t need to win the lottery to spend money irresponsibly.” They pan at the camera.

“Oh yeah, don’t you have that huge shark one?” Damien asks.

“Yeah I do actually. I love fishes and ocean creatures.”

“Saaaame” nods Damien.

“Well if you two nerds are done I would like to give MY answer.” Tommy says catching everyone attention.

“Oh yeah, of course, what’s your answer?”

“I said…” Tommy reveals his board. “Buy a private island. You like your alone time. You like vacations. I think you’d like to have a private island of your own to kinda isolate and recharge your battery when you want it AND do that somewhere that feels like a vacation.”

“That’s good I do love to get away from people.” They laugh. “Damien?”

“Well, I was, a little bit more reasonable than the two people on my right. Because I know you to be a responsible adult.” Damien starts to explain, [reader] makes a face questioning their ‘responsible nature’. “So I wrote…” He flips his board. “Buy a nice farm to live on with a lot of animals and pets. AND you know farms are in the country side, and you how the country side is, isolated” Damien looks at [reader] and raises his eyebrows as to insist on his argument.

“Oooooooh I like that. I really like that. ALL of you guys came up with good answers, but the TRUE answer is…” They reveal what they have written down. “Buy a house! The LA house market is killing me and all I want is to be able to live in peace in a house that I own.”

“Bullshit.” Interjects Angela. “You win the lottery and simple buy a house?”

“Do you know the price of a house in LA Angela?” Damien jokes. She simply shakes her head.

“So me and Damien are close, you did want to buy a place to live.” Tommy says.

“Yes, I did. Damien is a little closer to my answer though. A private Island? I don’t have the energy to manage that. A small farm, maybe. 2 points for Damien and 1 point for Tommy.”

“Urgh this is going to be difficult.” Complains Angela, head on the table. [reader] laughs as Tommy pats her back.

The shoot continues smoothly. Angela manages to get a few points but Damien stays in the lead.

“And now for our final question: If I didn’t work at Smosh, what would I be doing? Like If I wasn’t an actor what would my job be?” They read and starts writing almost immediately. “I feel like this is very easy, if you guys listen to me when I talk, I’m sure I’ve said it at some point.”

“Yup, I know exactly what the answer is, we’ve talk about this before.” Damien directly says and writes down his answer.

“Oh fuck off of course you know the answer. I’mma just write something funny I ain’t winning anyway.” Groans Angela.

“You never know, I think it could be anyone’s game”. [reader] says.

Tommy looks at them puzzled. “I, think… you have said something to me about this before. I’m gonna go with my gut. And if it’s not your answer I think it should be anyway.”

“Is this how it’s spelled?” Angela whispers to Tommy.

“Nooooo.” he shakes his head. Everyone chuckles.

After waiting for Angela to spell her answer correctly [reader] starts again. “If everyone is finished, I’m curious Tommy what did you write?”.

“I said a Chef.” He flips his board. “I know you love to cook, and I’ve had some of your food and it’s delicious. So I think you would be a Chef.”

“You do cook an amazing Lasagna.” Damien says out loud, perhaps unwillingly.

“Why thank you. I do like cooking. Angela?”

“I think you would be the person that smells candles and rates them for companies. I tried to give it a name but I couldn’t spell odorologist or whatever.”

“Whaat? Why candles?”

“Cause you got the face of a candle smeller. You look like you LOVE candles.”

“I don’t know if I should offended.” They laughed. “And finally, Damien, if you’re sure of yourself, let’s flip our boards at the same time. On three: one, two, three!”

They both flip their boards, looking into each others eyes. They stay a second before looking down seeing that they had the same answer. Their jaw drop simultaneously.

“YAyyyy.” Exclaims Damien.

“And I think that officially makes Damien our winner of what would [reader] do!”

“I mean, who’s surprised, no one. I got like two questions correct and he got like 10” Angela says.

“And that is why you’re not the favourite.” Damien laughs.

“Come on guys, you know I love you all. Even Tommy, I have nothing against homosexuals. Anyway, that concludes our video.” They laugh. “If you liked it and would like to watch another one, two of our videos should pop up on your screen. Good bye!” All the cast members wave at the camera and Emily yells cut.

“Good game guys, I am flattered that you know me.” The young actor says.

“Of course we do” Tommy says.

“I swear I know you I just can’t remember details.” Angela explains a bit stressed.

“It’s okay Ange your answers were very funny.”

The cast starts getting up, lunch should be called soon.

“Can’t believe you know me so well.” [reader] says to Damien who is now standing close next to them.

“I have a good memory. And I like knowing stuff about you.”

The two locks eyes and the younger is quick to look at the ground and chuckle.

“Well I think we should head for lunch. Want to eat with me?”

“With pleasure.”

They walk side by side towards to kitchen starting a new conversation. Occasionally locking eyes when their fingers brush and they realise they may be standing a little bit too close for coworkers. Standing too close for just friends…

The end.

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A.N: Wrote this for a friend and thought I would share!

English is not my first language.

[beah388love]

Dyslexia Problems

Full Masterlist Lando Norris Masterlist

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: you and Lando both have dyslexia

Warnings: swearing, dyslexia (if I’ve missed any please tell me!!)

You had gone golf with Lando and max for the day and they had randomly decided to go live on twitch. You was sat in the cart trying to cover your phone from the sun so you could read your text out but you huffed when all the letters were jumbled because of your dyslexia. “Lan? Is this spelt right?” You asked as you looked up to him as he held the camera.

He held his hand out and read your text but shook his head with furrowed brows when the letters were also jumbled from his dyslexia too. “Chat how do you spell neighbour?” Lando asked and looked at the chat to see the word repeated, some in caps.

“Okayyyyy thank you guys” Lando said with a little laugh as he typed the letters in on your phone and let you hit send.

“Thank you chat!” You said louder so they could hear you whilst max took his shot.

That was not all though….

Stupidly max asked you to read the subs out on the camera “thanks…uh- daivid? And thanks…kivy? For the subs” you smiled as you positioned the camera to look at max and Lando who were having a little play fight ending in Lando trying to poke max’s ass with the golf club and max running away with his hand covering his ass.

“Idiots” you shook your head behind the camera.

Chat:

User1: LMAOOOO THEIR SO FUNNY

User2: not y/n calling everyone the wrong name 😭

User3: ITS VICKY NOT KIVY 😭💀

User4: is she stupid?

User5: she’s dyslexic bro

You knotted your brows as you read the comments, “omg! Guys have I been calling you the wrong names?! I’m so sorry!” You gasped and slapped a hand to your mouth when you realised what the chat was talking about.

“Max! You take the camera! I suck at this job” you said dragging a hand down your face, “what are you talking about?” Max asked confused as he took the camera off of you.

“I can’t read the chat or their names…sorry guys” you said with an embarrassed smile “dyslexia?” Max grinned and you nodded “alright baby your turn!” Lando said as he handed you your golf ball.

“Thank you baby” you smiled as you took the ball from him.

“Y/n has really bad dyslexia guys” max explained as he read through some of the comments. “Yeah she hates it” Lando agreed with a nod of his head.

“You have dyslexia though” max pouted confused on why you hated it so much “yeah but hers is worse than mine and she loves reading but she has to use the text to speech thingy” Lando explained and max nodded “yeah she hates it” Lando gave a tight lipped smile but smiled when you walked over, he instantly wrapped a hand around your waist.

“Also chat- I didn’t wanna play this stupid game-“ I murmur to the camera but got cut off by Max “it’s a sport not a game” he corrected me for the 100th time.

I roll my eyes to the camera. “It’s a game.” I whisper to the camera making lando stifle a laugh.

……

This also occurred on streams…for example the time when Max was streaming with you and Lando.

You had somehow been given the job of calling out and thanking the subs..again.

“Thank you…uh- poopy?” I tilt my head and scrunch my brows as I read the username out and gasp when I read it again “sorry-! Sorry- I meant poppy..! Thanks poppy for the subs” I correct myself embarrassed

I hear lando’s laugh behind me as I’m sat on his lap, “Lan. it’s not funny-“ I roll my eyes playfully but he can’t help his laughs.

“Babe- you called her poopy?-“ he wheezes out whilst laughing, hiding his face in my hair from the stream. I shake my head smiling “I didn’t mean to!” I cover my face embarrassed.

Max is trying to bite back his laughs as he tries to focus on a game. He looks to the comments and bursts out laughing at all the jokingly offended fans.

I feel Lando squeeze his hold on my waist slightly “babe?” He whispers into my ear and I hum “mh?”

“Want your coloured slip thingys?” He asks quietly and I shake my head “no it’s fine..can you just read the subs out?” I ask and he nods “yeah.”

He continued to read the subs after that. I didn’t think anything of it until I saw the twitter posts the next morning…they did make me laugh.

…

Your dyslexia would also affect your texts…which were also pretty funny-

Lando was sat on the sofa at your shared apartment. max was also there but he was on the other sofa. Lando scrolled through instagram bored until he got a text from you.

Lando tried to read it and sighed, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion. He rubbed his forehead and looked up when max chuckled “what?” Lando asks

Max laughed “has y/n texted you?”

Lando nods “yeah- how’d you know?” He smiled confused

Max chuckled “cuz you look like your trying to read a different language” Lando laughed shaking his head

“Here you try and understand what she texted me.” Lando chuckled and handed his phone to max.

Y/N: Can yuo garb me smoe ciream?

Max knotted his brows as he tried to read it “fucking hell mate- how do her eyes make her think that’s right?”

Lando chuckled “don’t ask me.” He said as he took his phone back and texted back.

Lando: babe. I just had a headache trying to read that.

Y/N: gbra em some icremea?

Lando: it still ain’t spelt right babe.

Y/N: seriosly?

Lando: just call me. I cant keep trying to read this.

Max Fewtrell added to his story

Landonorris: I acc have a migraine after texting her.

Ynusername: blame my dyslexia not me ✋🏻

McLaren: you think her texts are bad..we have to deal with her emails!

User1: LMAO NOT MCLAREN CALLING HER OUT

User2: I WANNA SEE EM NOW 😭

Lewishamilton: relatable.

Ynusername: hey! Give me a break.

User3: how r her replies making sense if her texts don’t?

Landonorris: y/n uses autocorrect and speech to text to help her

Ynusername: idk what id do without it 😔✋🏻

…

This would also cause problems between her and her radio engineer, Fred.

“Freddie?” I ask into the radio as I hold the steering wheel tightly, going around a corner on the track.

“Yeah y/n?” He responds through the radio

“There’s something wrong with the uh- screen thingy-“ I say and Fred furrows his brows

“Uh- ya sure..? I’m looking now and it looks fine?” He asks confused

“It says I’m going at 013mph?” I ask confused as I ready screen on the car.

I hear Fred’s small chuckle through the radio “y/n- it’s your dyslexia. It says 103mph” he explains and I can’t help my embarrassed smile under my helmet

“Oh- I forgot about that. Thanks Freddo.” I giggle through the radio.

Fred chuckled “it’s fine. The cars fine though right?”

“Yeah- it’s fine. Just my dyslexia.” I giggle

I do another turn and sigh “Fred- what’s the gap?” I ask confused

Fred looks down at his screen “uh- Max is…0.845 seconds behind.” He reads and I nod

“Okay” I say as I try to remember the track in my head. I go to turn right but quickly swerve left.

“Shit- fuck- oops-“ I curse under my breath and I hear Fred through the radio

“What happened-?”

“I uh- I just forgot my left and right but it’s fine-“ I giggle quietly “sorry.”

Fred can’t help his laugh “don’t worry- just try to remember next time yeah?”

…

Or another struggle for you and Lando was cooking…

Lando was streaming whilst you and him baked or shall I say tried to bake a cake.

Lando was leaning against the counter, holding his phone with the recipe on it “uh- babe? I think we need help.” He says with knotted brows.

You look over to him “what? Why?”

Lando tuts as he tries to read the ingredients “I can’t make it out.”

You roll your eyes “lemme try” Lando scoffs lightly “okay- but I highly doubt you’ll be better than me.”

You try to read the ingredients and instructions but it’s all jumbled and messy “uh…never mind then.”

Lando chuckles and looks to the camera “guess we’re having pasta tonight chat.”

You giggle and nod “yup! Pasta it is.” You say as you grab different ingredients.

…

Lando, you and Oscar were doing an F1 game interview thingy for fun.

The interviewer had given you all your own white board. The game was that Oscar would have to guess the word that you and Lando got.

The interviewer smiles “okay- start.”

Lando and you look to the word on your boards. Lando tilted his head confused “uh…”

You also knotted your brows confused as you looked at the messy word. “Uh…lan? What does it say?” You whisper.

Lando chuckles “no idea..”

Oscar shakes his head amused “how the hell do I guess if you don’t know the word?”

Lando laughs lightly “uh- I think maybe you should do the word and me and y/n guess it.”

The interviewer giggles and nods “okay- switch if it’s easier”

Lando and you switch. Oscar chuckles “this is why we never let you two team up. You guys are awful together”

Lando nods with a laugh “two dyslexics.”

You giggle and nod “perfect match” you joke

[spaceycat]

Hai.

Twitter Camstar!Chris. Pls.

the blonde happy trail. his stomach and chest caving and heaving while he jerks off infront of the camera.

the gasping. and groaning. oh. my. god.

IM SO IN BRO, ILY. (i am such a sucker for this trope) enjoy !!

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✮⋆˙ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ...  ╰┈➤ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 Pt. 1 / 5 ⋆˚࿔

♫ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: lockjaw by sir mix-a-lot (4:19) ✰ pairing: camstar!chris hartley x fem!reader

✰ cw: swearing, talk of porn creation, kinda smutty but its just chris' porn LOL, kinda mild for whats to come

✰ word count: 1.0k+

✰ summary: your friends were talking about this new guy on pornhub, twitter, onlyfans, all of the above really that has taken the internet by storm. you looked it up out of curiosity to find that it was your friend chris at the centre of it all.

✰ a/n: yeah so i made this into a three parter because i was kinda obsessed with this...

see pt. 2 & pt. 3

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༺colour chart༻ reader ❀ chris ★ hayley margot (random characters for plot convenience)

You were at work, getting ready to clock out - in the break room. Packing up your computer, charger, phone, when your workfriends came walking in. "Have you seen that on guy twitter and stuff?" "He's on onlyfans too--" "Why are you guys talking about onlyfans at work?--" "No, you have to understand-- there's this new guy he's on like.. twitter, pornhub on everything and people are obsessed with him." "And, I'm guessing you two are obsessed with him aswell?" "Maybe.. I'm looking into the cam girl business to hook up with him." "That is the dumbest thing I've ever heard." "You have to see him yourself, then you'll be the exact same." "404ByteMe is his name." "That is-- I'm sorry bite me?" "No-- byte me like some nerdy shit, he must be into tech or something." "Tech and Porn, goes perfect together." You'd pack the rest of your stuff up, clearly uninterested. "I've got to go.. I'll see you tomorrow."

You made your way to your apartment, setting your stuff down as you toed off your shoes. Letting out a sigh, you pulled out your phone. ByteMe, that's dumb. You were then texted by your bestfriend Chris, he's a reserved person - not really knowing your work friends.

today - 4:57pm "we still on for tonight??"

"unless ur planning on ditching me, yeah we are ;P" "perf, be there at half past" "yep x"

You set your phone down, you had to clean your apartment and shower before Chris came over for dinner. You cleaned up your apartment, as you checked your phone you realised it was 5:23pm. You still needed to shower, surely Chris would be late-- and besides he wouldn't care if you were in the shower for like 5 minutes.. right?

today - 5:23pm "i might be in the shower when you get here, let urself in xx"

You knew he'd be probably driving already, but he'd eventually check his phone. You went off into the bathroom, turning on the shower - as you waited for the water to heat up, you shedded out of your work uniform. Feeling grateful that it was finally off after a hot and long day at work. The water washed away all the grime and dirt from the day also loosening your muscles and just giving you a minute to be thoughtless. As you got out of the shower, you checked your phone - realising that Chris hadn't read your message. Believing that he wasn't at the apartment yet. You wrapped a towel over yourself, drying off your hair as you walked out into your living room, humming to yourself - the towel cutting off your peripheral vision as you headed to the fridge. That's when you heard his voice. "Hello?--" He said with a chuckle. You turned around, seeing him in jeans, a plaid jumper and a shirt displaying a design based on some game that he probably liked. Then you became acutely aware of your clothes, or lack thereof. A blush coated your cheeks, "Shit-- shit, sorry I thought you weren't here yet--" He laughed a bit at your flusteredness, "Uh-- sorry.. I- I should've texted you or something.." "Chris it's fine-- don't apologise, let me get dressed." You practically waddled away to your bedroom, embarrassment wasnt even the right word to describe how you just felt. You could've died on the spot. You got changed into jeans and whatever shirt you could find, intending to be quick. Your hair was still wet, imprinting and sticking to your shirt - making it kind of see through. You gave up, deciding to walk back into the living room. "Sorry again--" You'd move to grab two beers from your bar fridge, walking back over to Chris - passing him one. He responded with a small "thank you." as you sat down next to him, placing your feet onto your coffee table. After dinner, you found yourselves watching some horror movie Josh suggested you two to watch. You were on your phone, not really invested in the movie as Hayley and Margot kept texting you about this Byte guy, it was starting to piss you off at this point. Why were they so persistent with it, "Plsssss, he's so hot!!" "trust me you will literally ascend to godhood seeing this man." You decided to just give in, look at one small clip or photo to see what the deal with this guy was. You faced your phone away from Chris, so he wouldnt see what the fuck you were up to on it. You went on incognito mode, like that would hide your sins. Looking up "404ByteMe" into the ponhub search bar, that's when you fell upon his profile.

He had many videos, some with some girls some solo. You turned down your volume to zero almost immediately. His profile picture was.. hot, it was faceless but holy shit what a body. A blonde curly happy trail leading to something cut out of frame, and a toned, lean stomach helping it. You clicked on a video, that's when you saw it. That smile that you've seen so many times before, those lopsided glasses that has to be pushed up every so often, that nose.

The man you were sitting next to was now plastered all over the screen, you watched himself pump his cock over and over again - probably making sweet noises that made you need to rewatch this later. Watching this felt wrong, but also so right. You watched the beads of pre-cum leak from his red swollen tip, watching his chest heave and his thighs and jaw tighten like he was about to cum, your thighs started to rub together to relieve the heat building between them, you never thought about Chris in that sense but now it was all that filled your mind. That's when a voice cut through your moment.

"You still watching this movie or what?--" You turned off your phone almost immediately, pushing it aside. "Y-Yeah.. sorry, my friends just kept texting me. I'm all yours." I'm all yours?-- okay who even says that, but as you looked at the man beside you - you could only wonder how he would look atop of you, fucking into you. You struggled to watch the movie, your phone still buzzing with texts from Hayley and Margot as you were hoping all of this would be over soon and he could leave to rewatch that video fifty more times if you could.

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YEP!! YEP!! I AM MAKING MORE CHAPTERS LIKE RN

[sunliights]

noemia's face almost falls, if only because she's so surprised it takes her girlfriend a moment to come back down to earth. when she realises what the 'problem' is, a laugh falls from her lips and she shakes her head. "you had me worried," she scolds gently, though reaches for the flowers with a smile. "you don't want me to read it?" she peers at stella over the top of the flowers before moving aside to set them down. "okay. i promise, i won't read it until later." though, she's almost bouncing on her toes with the desire to. "is it a big, romantic confession? i am already your girlfriend." despite the teasing lilt to her voice, she leans in to brush her lips to stella's cheek. "i'm ready to go. just let me grab my jacket. we are heading out, right?"

stella stands there, momentarily stunned, the bouquet in her hand nearly forgotten. her gaze sweeps over noemia, lingering on the sleek lines of her chosen outfit and the way it accentuates her subtle curves. "you're kidding, right?" stella finally replies, her voice warm but teasing. "you're the one who looks... wow." a faint blush colors her cheeks and she steps closer, holding out the flowers. "these are for you," she rushes out, almost fumbling over the words. "there's a card, but i don't want you to read it 'till i'm gone." if, by some miracle, they didn't spend the night together, it would serve as a lovely end to the evening.

[angelfrombeneth]

PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT, RIGHT? - N . CHAVEZ

Mature Content Ahead

Nicholas Chavez x F!Actress Reader

Warnings: SMUT

Summary: You and Nicholas are costars in a new show - Grotesqueire. When it is time to film a sex scene, you aren't ready; awkward tension takes over, but you know what they say; Practice makes perfect.

Note: I just want to say thank you so much for 1k followers and I hope you enjoy this one - and if you are new here, check out my other works. I have new stuff coming, feel free to request in my inbox for a specific character.

If you are looking for a part 2, please read this post as it explains my reasonings behind not making a part 2.

The filming for Grotesqueire has been underway for a few weeks now, this is your first big role in any media which you are extremely excited for. The show has an extremely interesting script, which is one of the reasons you wanted to put your all into your audition - which got you here.

"Y/N, I need you on set B in 5 minutes" Someone shouted from outside the trailer.

You sat up, taking your glasses off as you put them aside as you grabbed your contact case, quickly putting your contacts. You grab your veil, before exiting your trailer and walking towards the set. Crew preparing sets around you as you pass through different hallways, so much going on in one place but somehow you still felt at home.

"I was wondering where you were" You heard Nicholas laugh behind you as you turned to face him.

You laughed, turning to him as you smiled. Nicholas was your co-star playing a weirdly odd but kinky priest - and well, he was definitely lovely to look at.

"Nicholas, what are you doing?" The costume leader came scrambling over. "That isn't your costume for this scene- come!" She grabbed his arm, pulling him out of the set.

You laughed at Nicholas getting dragged away before walking upon the director and listening to your scene directions.

You sat upon your position on the set, the hairstylist coming to fit the veil upon your head properly, fixing your hair under it as you noticed Nicholas enter the set from the side of your view. You turn to look at him, your eye quirking up at his costume- well lack of costume.

"Nicholas why are you wearing just a towel?" You laughed.

"I have no idea- This is what Marissa gave me-" He spoke but was quickly cut off by the director on the megaphone.

"Alright! So can we get Talia on set please!"

You watched a girl walk up to you and Nicholas, smiling as she held a clipboard. "Y/N! Nicholas! I am very grateful to meet you, I am Talia your intimacy coordinator"

You blinked. You read the script you knew it was coming but you didnt realise it would be so early on. Nicholas shared a similar face to you.

"Now, don't worry, we will go over the main aspects and go over any boundaries the pair of you have" She smiled.

The next twenty minutes were spent with you, Nicholas and the intimacy coordinator. You were still shocked. It wasn't that you couldn't do it - Nicholas was attractive, and all, and the attraction for the scene was definitely there; it was just the awkwardness of it.

After talking Talia deemed you guys to be okay to proceed, the horn sounded round the studio as the pair of you prepared for your scene.

The tension loomed in the air as you stared at Nicholas from the doorway, reciting your lines.

"Can you dry my back sister... please" He hummed, passing a folded white towel over to you. You took it, walking behind him as he kneeled infront of the bed. You took the towel, slowly sliding it over his back full of gashes, cleaning the blood from his back as your finger ran over the bumps. You let your hand reset to his shoulder, softly gripping it as he hummed, it was what was scripted but it felt.. awkward.

"CUT!-" Shot through the studio as alarms sounded once more. Talia and the director came over, looking at you and Nicholas.

"Maybe lets take a break, you two talk through the scene and try and coordinate something. It feels.." The direction tapped his chin as he spoke.

"Awkward. It was very tense and not good tense" Talia sighed.

The pair of you nodded, walking out of the studio and towards the trailer as you groaned, flinging open the door as you tore the veil off your head yet again.

Nicholas sat on the couch looking up at you snickering as you groaned, sitting beside him, tossing your legs over his as you leaned back on the couch.

"I had no clue we were filming.. that today. It's just.. awkward" You looked at him, watching his body face yours completely as he held your full attention. The way his eyes stared into yours as you spoke.

"I mean if it makes you feel any better, I was pretty nervous. I didnt really know what to do and its just unfamilar i guess, its not a regular sex scene its gotta be.. kinky" He chuckled.

He made you feel comfortable. No pressure at all, the awkwardness was lifting bit by bit, showing the light under the fog.

"I mean what if we just.. you know" You blurted.

"If we just what?" Nicholas looked at you confused. "Fucked?"

"I mean you said it not me.." You looked around the room, trying to break the obvious tension as he laughed at your reaction. "I mean, for the scene right?" You smirked.

"Yeah for the scene." You sat up and looked at him as he spoke, crawling towards him slightly. You paused just before him. One of your hands gripping his thigh as the other held his shoulder.

The pair of you looked at each other for a brief moment, the balance of friends and coworkers about to be broken. As much as you wanted to chant in your head, 'it's for work, for work,' it wasn't, was it.

Your lips softly connected with his, wrapping your arms around his neck as he pulled you in, sitting upon his lap, your legs wrapping and encasing him between. His lips mimicked your movement, slowly moving against yours, matching your pace and rhythm.

You pulled away briefly for a moment, looking at him. "This is work right..?" You chuckled.

"Definitely work" He smirked, pushing himself up, sending you up as he pulled apart your dress, the top clasps undoing as you kissed him forcefully. Your arms flew around his neck as he tugged the dress down slightly.

Your lips interlocked as you kissed each other hungrily, your hands combing through his locks as he slid all over your torso, pinching and grabbing at the flesh.

You both wouldn't admit it, but this was a long time coming. With the subtle flirting on and off set, you both were excited for the sex scene to finally be able to 'get a taste' as Nicholas said - but you didn't expect this.

You pulled away, gripping the waist of the dress as you dragged it up your body, pulling it up over your head as you dropped it to the floor, allowing yourself to fall back against the couch, your arms around his neck as you guided him ontop of you.

"Fuck-" Nicholas groaned, towering above you as he stared down as you adored in your black lace set as you stared up at him. "Is lingere supposed to be apart of the costume.. I mean stockings? Really? The dress covers it" His hand slid down your thigh to your calf, feeling the silky sheer material covering your bare skin.

"Personal touch" You smirked at him, your hands holding his shoulders as he licked his lips.

Nicholas's head turned to the side, kissing the wrist of your hand as it held his shoulder, taking the hand as he kissed up your arm slowly, gaining closer and closer.

You pulled him down towards you, rubbing his neck softly as you pecked his lips softly. "Nick- This is mad" You laughed out.

A smile covered his lips as he kissed your cheek, to your jaw and slowly down your neck, nipping occasionally. "Its practice... for work of course"

"The for work excuse has been.. overused~" You melted into his touch, your hands resting softly upon his hips above the towel that fixed upon his body. You tugged his hips closer, noticing his lips depart from your collarbone as he peered up at you.

He licked his lips, sitting back upon his knees as he stared down at you, that cheeky grin on his face. "Now, got to act suprised in the scene, I'll give you a little preview" He snickered.

You reached forward for his towel, tugging it as it puddled at his knees. You gawked for a moment, you didnt expect him to actually be pare naked under the towel - acting and all, you'd think he'd have some sort of cover.

"The director thought it would be more authentic to be completely naked under the towel.... For gravity purposes" He winked, his hands sliding down your waist, hooking his fingers through the sides of your underwear, slowly pulling them down your body.

"That's a terrible excuse" You laughed as you lifted your feet out of your underwear as he dropped them on the floor. You sat up, pushing his chest as he sat back on the couch.

"Calm down, cowgirl", He snickered, leaning back as he stared at you; one of his heads reached to rest upon your hip, the other clasped around himself as he gradually began to pump.

You reached back, unclasping your bra and sliding it off slowly as you threw it at him, the pair of you laughing. The sight of him leant back against the couch, hot and bothered as he stared at you while touching himself was all too much, it was making you hot and bothered.

"Fuck me, you are so hot Nicholas" you brought your hands to your face, covering your eyes as you let out a loud drawn out sigh.

"Genes.. what can I tell you" He smiled, as you leaned forward pecking his lips softly a few times. His grin seeping into the kiss as you stared at him, your noses touching eachother slightly.

You leaned in, capturing him in a soft kiss, instantly reciprocated as both his hands gripped your waist. You sat in his lap, softly grinding down against him - humming softly within the kiss at the friction.

You noticed his eagerness as his hips would occasionally buckle up against yours, one of his heads to your neck, gripping it softly as he pulled you closer - the pair of you intensely making out.

Your hands raked through his hair, tugging and stroking it as his hand tested with pressure around your neck as you hummed softly, lightly moaning within the kiss.

You pulled away abruptly, looking down as you took him into your hand as you slowly guided him into you as you let out a light and soft moan, which was sounded out by his own moan.

"Fuckkkk-" His head fell backwards as his hands fell upon your waist, guiding you slowly.

You looked down at him, your hands holding his shoulders as you slowly rutted your hips against his, grinding down against him. Watching his face twitch in pleasure as his breathing stuttered at each movement.

"You are so vocal" You laughed, pecking his lips softly as you rested your forehead against his, continuing to grind down against him, watching his body for every single twitched movement.

"Cant help it- Does it bother y-you.." He stared up at you, slightly breathless as he grinned, his eyes half lidded.

"Absolutely not.. turns me on if anything" You chuckled, kissing his cheek softly as you leaned down to nibble on his ear lobe as you continued to ride him.

Nicholas continued to groan in your ear, making you smirk as you speed up your movements, dropping your body weight down against him harshly as you bucked your hips back and forth. Cusses spewed from his lips as you continued to do so. 'Fuck' 'Shit' 'Holy Fuuuck-', continued to fall from his lips as you hummed softly, soft moans leaving yours.

You watched him intently as his eyes rolled back, his eyes staying hooded as he tried to steady his breathing. Smirking as you noticed the effect you had over him, especially how cocky he is normally.

Your movements slowed down as you panted softly, leaning against him for balance and he noticed. Nicholas picked you up, causing you to yelp momentarily as you pushed you up against a desk.

"Getting tired?" He smirked, pressing his hands against the wall behind you, as he thrusted harshly forward - causing you to gulp back a moan. Your fists clenching as you stared up at him.

"I thought-" You groaned, at each thrust he made, pressing your hands against his chest as you steadied your breathing.

"Mhm.. You thought wrong; I was definitely enjoying before, though.." He pecked your lips softly, leaning to your ear. "My turn now" He whispered.

His hands hooked under your thighs, lifting your lower body up slightly as he continued to thrust into you. You yelped out, shutting your eyes as you tried to control yourself from the overwhelming feeling of pleasure, trying hard to not let go so soon. His lips harshly locked against your neck, as he sucked and bit down against the flesh.

"Nicholas-" You gasped out, moaning softly as your fingernails clawed down his back harshly.

"Shhhh" He cooed, as he licked up your neck, his hips continuing to slam against yours as the desk rocked below the pair of you.

"So fucking good- holy-" You gasped, staring at him as you laughed out slightly, his lips curling up into a smile as he continued to thrust, his hands holding your hips up just above the desk as you locked your legs around his waist tightly.

He dropped you harshly against the wood, placing a hand on your neck, kissing you roughly as you raced to reciprocate. His tongue halfway down your throat as your hands slid down his chest, your fingers feeling between the crevises of his sculpted chest. His free hand, cupping your breast as he squeezed it occasionally.

You hummed needingly into the kiss as his thumb pressed pressure against the front of your throat, causing you to tighten - which he felt. You could feel the smirk on his face as he kissed you, his tongue exploring your mouth as you helplessly allowed it.

You felt his whole hand clamp down on your neck with pressure. Your breath hitched for a moment at the sheer shock as he pulled away, your foreheads resting against one another, beads of sweat falling and mixing within each other as you gasped, staring into his eyes as he thrust deeply, holding himself within you.

"...Nick.." you croaked out as he stared at you, his eyes blown out with lust as he leaned in, biting your lip between his teeth as he held his eye contact with you, his thumb still pressed hard against the front of your throat.

He took his free hand, sliding his middle finger and index finger past your lips and into your mouth as you stared at him. You gave him no indication against it which caused his dick to twitch. He began to thrust against yet this time harder but slower. Your body rebounded each time, pushing yourself into the wall that you could've meshed into it. You sucked on his fingers, tugging his hair as you run your hand down his face, caressing it as you let out a guttural moan as he trusted once more.

"Good girl.. cum for me" He whispered, withdrawing his fingers from your mouth and removing his hand from your neck as his face flew to yours, your lips instantly crashing upon one another as he gripped your hips, pulling you forward and roughly thrusting into you.

You moaned into his mouth, panting heavily as you drew closer and closer to your high. Your leg twitching as you threw your head back as his lips sucked and nipped at your neck as you screamed out loudly. Your hands clawing down his back as you came undone.

You were too dazed in your high, groaning and panting as Nicholas pulled out, groaning as he pumped himself watching as your whole body twitched.

Your legs flung closed as you stared at him, exhausted as he whined before he came on your thigh, whimpering and panting as he did so, his arm leant against the wall behind you as it supported his weight - his face mere centermeters away.

"Holy fuck-" You chuckled, out of breath as you stared at him.

His chest rose and fell as he stared up at you with hooded eyes. His finger swiping his cum off your thigh as he held it up to you.

You smirked, leaning forward and sucking it off his finger as you looked at him. He smiled at you before pushing himself off the wall as he stumbled back to the couch, laying back on it as he sighed - catching his breath.

"That was more of a workout than my actual workout sessions.. jesus Christ", Nicholas groaned, his arm resting up above him.

You pulled yourself off the desk, your legs slightly wobbly as you slowly approached him. You sat beside his head, lifting it and resting it against your thigh as you sighed.

"I think we've got the sex scene down, don't you.." You laughed, running your fingers through his hair.

"Oh, definitely" He smirked up at you.

It was safe to say, when the pair of you finally caught your breath you showered and got rechanged into your costumes. You had to cover up all the marks on your neck but for Nicholas it was fine, he was already marked by makeup so hopefully no one could tell the difference.

When the pair of you got to set, you definitely delivered the sex scene, going beyond the script. Hair pulling, finger sucking, tit grabbing, ass grabbing - the lot. Safe to say everyone was impressed.

"CUT! That was exactly what we needed, guys!" The director clapped as you and Nicholas stared at each other, panting slightly. You smirked, looking down at the tent under the towel Nicholas was wearing.

"Please don't move- it'll be so fucking embarrassing", Nicholas begged. You chuckled, patting his chest.

[sttoru]

⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. a relaxing day at the beach w/ toji ‘n little megumi, accompanied by their usual bickering and precious moments

tags. dad!toji x wife!female reader. fluff. honestly just the beach episode toji deserves w his family t_t not proof read!

the beach is a beautiful place to rest after a tough week. toji lays on the towel besides yours, bulky arms resting behind his head as he enjoyed the gentle breeze, the smell of the sea mixed with his wife’s perfume.

the peace is quickly disturbed when he feels a small fist claw at his mouth.

“‘gumi, don’t feed papa sand,” your muffled laughter echoes through the busy beach. you watch your husband attempt to fight off megumi’s tiny hands as they pry his lips apart.

toji grunts and moves his head multiple times, but the toddler is determined to get what he wants. “brat—” the dark-haired man scoffs while his hands wrap around megumi’s torso, lifting the little boy in the air as his final resort, “what’s this all ‘bout? wanna kill y’r daddy or sum?”

your son pouts and furrows his brows. “no, i made papa food. burger,” he defends himself and kicks his legs while being held up at arms length. megumi’s tiny fist full of sand manages to reach his father’s lips again, “now papa eat!”

toji lifts megumi up higher, as far away from his face as possible. he takes a second before realising that he indeed had made a request for a burger just moments ago, when his son asked him what he should make out of the sand.

toji totally forgot to play along with megumi’s pretend restaurant game, thinking the boy would halfway forget about it anyway. children’s attention spans are short after all.

seems like his kid is an exception.

“i ain’t eatin’ shit, boy,” toji grunts and turns megumi away, putting the boy back down in the sand between the two beach towels. you’re about to reprimand your husband for his behaviour before your child interrupts.

“this not poo poo!” megumi jabs a finger at his father’s chest, his voice a bit louder. he’s taken great offence to the comment about his imaginary burger, which was now but a cluster of sand particles.

toji snorts and gently flicks megumi’s hand away, “yeah, it is. bet it tastes like ‘poo poo’ too.”

“no! not poo poo!” megumi’s voice rings out before a frustrated whine leaves his lips. his little hands land on toji’s abs, physically punishing him for saying such mean stuff about his hard handiwork.

your husband sticks his tongue out childishly at his sulking son. “‘yes! yes ‘tis poo poo!’ keheh,” toji mocks megumi’s high voice, snorting as he laughs about his own joke afterwards.

the father-son duo bicker for a few more seconds before you sigh and speak up. “can you two just get along for once now? we’re in public, so behave,” you scold them as their voices seemed to get louder. you then glare at your immature husband. he could be such a man-child when it came to arguing with his son, “and you— you’re an adult, so act like one.”

the two of them instantly shut up and their heads turn towards you, their hands that were wrestling with each other also stopping mid-air. megumi pouts and stops attacking his father with his tiny fists. the little boy knows better than to not listen to his mother.

in turn, toji huffs and grumbles something under his breath before grabbing his son to make it up to him.

neither does the grown man dare to defy his wife’s demands.

“yeah, yeah. c’mere, son,” toji responds and places the toddler on his chest, letting the kid rest against him. megumi surprisingly doesn’t pull away and instead curls up in toji’s warm embrace. as much as the two love to (playfully) fight, they also get along extremely well.

you smile and relax back on the palms of your hands. “much better,” you hum in content. your heart swells with affection for your two favorite people on earth. megumi is a carbon copy of his father and it’s the cutest little thing ever.

they both have that subtle pout on their lips as they accommodate to being close and cozy with each other again.

toji runs his callused fingers through megumi’s hair, sighing as he closes his eyes. he doesn’t admit it out loud, but he cares for his kid. if he had to make a choice between either saving his own life or megumi’s, toji’d instantly draw his last breath.

“he’s still a brat,” your husband grumbles to you, sharp eyes watching the way you coddle and coo over the toddler. megumi’s chubby cheek is smushed against toji’s chest and it was an adorable sight. you giggle and capture it on your phone.

toji scoffs, but can’t help the grin tugging at the corner of his scarred lips. he gently rubs the child’s cheek with his knuckles before continuing, “but he’s my brat. ain’t that right, boy?”

megumi lets out a small, soft grunt at his father’s words. the kid is completely silent, content with the way things had played out. perhaps this is what he secretly searched for as well— to receive toji’s attention and a glimpse of his affection.

“aww, how cute!” your smile is beaming as you snap another picture of your family. toji’s soft look is perfectly captured on your phone, with him gently touching megumi’s chubby cheek as the boy laid on his bare chest. pure domestic bliss.

you sigh and look away for one second to change the lockscreen on your phone. humming, you go to your settings and instantly put the picture of your husband and son as your wallpaper on nearly everything.

you tilt your head back only to find toji grinning from ear to ear now, going from gently rubbing megumi’s cheek to full out squishing them between both his hands, amused at the way the fat moves. “kehehe, look at ‘em,” he chuckles.

the little toddler eventually gets fed up with it after squirming and grunting. megumi brings his little fist up—the same one that still had some sand stored from before—and lets the content fly all over toji’s face.

megumi giggles and scrambles off toji’s lap with a victorious grin. he points at his father who’s struggling with getting the sand off his face, the man sputtering and grumbling. he sticks his tongue out, “tha’s papa’s burger.”

you watch as your son waddles over to you and hides into your arms, muffled laughter echoing in your ears. seems like megumi won the battle in the end; successfully holding onto the sand he was planning to feed his dad one way or another.

toji spits out a bit of sand that flew into his mouth from the kid’s surprise attack, “you little shit—”

well, there goes the peace again. you shake your head, but let the two play and fight it out on their own.

. . . just another day in the fushiguro family.

[vcutparis]

i whole heartedly had the maternal aunt awakening for the kids. LIKE FROM THE FIRST SCENE WHERE THEY SAID FAMILY MAN TRAITOR AND WENT BACK YO GO HSUHSUHSUSHUS SHUSHSUSHSU IN THE CORNER!!!!! I JUMPED AND GIGGLED LIKE A MANIC AS IF I KNOW SHIT BRO 😦?

I LOVE!!!!! I LOVE!!!!!!! I REPEAT !!!!! I LOVE THE KIDS (and their dad but anyways)

i ahve a lot of thoughst and lets jot it down in the tags muehehehhehe (aw hell naw man tumblr ate my fav tag : is doctor hwa single. or rich momma sophie? help a med kid out!!!!) ALSO ALSO THANK YOU FOR THE CONTRIBUTION TO ATEEZ FIC COMMUNITY WE CANT WAIT FOR THE NEXT ONE YAY!!!

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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