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[lilhwahwa]

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* hi *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

most recent written work ➢ here 

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masterlist ➢ here 

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tarot masterlist ➢ coming soon...

[minkieater]

CLOCKWORK °˖➴ jwy

[ex-husband!wooyo x ex-wife!reader] 𓈒𓏸.°• part two to wifey | smut minors dni 18+, raw p in v, creampies, breeding, sweet talk, dirty talk, mommy/daddy, nothing too crazy i turned up the plot this time | 9.7k there are some special appearances in this from @chimivx 's friends ᢉ𐭩 if you're curious about yunho's wife n kids, read tcmc ‼️ if you wanna know everything about wooyoung and aurora, how yunho and aurora came to be, if you're curious about the lore at all, pls start here :) thank you plum for letting me write a story from your story, i love your people very very very much, almost as much as i love u u terrifying mastermind genius ₊˚⊹♡

Like fucking clockwork. 

You close the door to Kyungmin’s room quietly, hearing the soft noise of the latch clicking into place, face scrunching together, silently praying that you don’t hear his small voice call you back inside. 

At the same time, Wooyoung’s key turns in your front door, heavy, deep brown wood groaning open. On silent feet he ushers himself inside, closing the door quietly behind him, lips tucked between his teeth to enforce the silence. 

From the top of the staircase, you see him dressed in oversized charcoal at the bottom, kicking his sneakers off his feet while throwing his phone, wallet and keys on the entryway table. Skipping down the stairs, you forgo greeting him, whispering, “Be quiet, he just went down.” 

“He’s eight,” Wooyoung whispers back, “you still tuck him in?” 

“He begs me to,” your brows knit together, “he doesn’t beg you?” 

“No,” his lips spread in a grin, “he’s a big boy at my house.” 

You scoff, “Shut up, he’ll always be my baby.” Leading him into the living room, you keep your voice low, louder than a whisper, “We have to be quiet.” 

“You have to be quiet,” he corrects you, tone teasing, smirking as you lay back on the couch. The TV is on but muted, the lamp in the corner coating the living area in dusky orange even if the sun had gone to sleep hours ago. 

“I am quiet,” you pout as he crawls over you, wasting no time, crouching between your parted legs, a hand falling to the back of the couch for purchase as he pecks a short kiss to your lips. 

“Don’t tease tonight,” you grab hold of his hoodie, pulling him close enough for your lips to touch, “I don’t have it in me to fight for it.” 

He smiles, kissing you again, parting your lips with his own, hands moving to the armrest to keep him steady as he lowers his hips into you. You gasp into his mouth at the friction, your tiny shorts doing nothing to shield you from his weight. 

“Then don’t fight,” he moves to kiss your jaw, your head tilts to let him in, his breath is hot against your skin, “lay there and behave for once.” 

Your hands find his neck, his cheeks, pulling him back up to kiss you deeper, head lifting off the pillow, calves hooking over the back of his thighs. He makes a grumbled noise, tongue licking into your mouth like he was searching for something, one hand falling from the armrest to tug at the hem of your hoodie, pushing it upward. 

“Off.” 

One word, a singular order, you sink further down the couch after pulling it off your body in a rush, throwing the pillow beneath your head to the floor, giving him space to plant his elbows above your shoulders. 

“Don’t wait,” you murmur into his mouth, “I can take it.” 

He hums, taking your bottom lip between his teeth before he answers, “You don’t know how to take it.”

“Then I’ll fucking learn,” your feet tug at his sweatpants, spine bending toward him, “get inside me.”

“Antsy,” he sits back on his knees, pushing his sweatpants and his briefs down in one quick motion. “Like I haven’t been fucking you right or something.”

“You haven’t been here in a week,” you argue, pushing your shorts down to your ankles, kicking them on the floor, “you haven’t been fucking me at all.”

“I had our kid for four of those days,” he pulls your thighs over his, sliding his cock through your folds, “I didn’t see you at my door after he went to bed. On his own, might I add.”

You loose a shaky breath as his tip collides with your clit, hips bucking up towards him, “Shit, I was busy, Wooyoung. What about those three days then?”

He pauses, glancing up at you, “You serious?”

“Yes?” You blink, “What were you doing? You had Friday, Saturday and Sunday.”

He laughs, lining himself up, holding his breath as he pushes inside. Your lips part in a silent scream, head tilting backwards to dig into the couch cushions, hands clawing at your own thighs for something. He stills once he’s fully seated, chest heaving, veiny forearms reaching for your ankles. 

“So fuckin’ tight,” he grinds out, voice tight with restrain, pushing your knees up to your chest. “Careful what you say, wifey. Might think you want me for real.”

“Regretting,” you squeak, eyes screwed shut tight, “s’big.”

He’d laugh again if your pussy didn’t look so pretty trying to keep him in. Walls fluttering around the base of him, your clit pulsed, begging for attention already, he started a slow, deep grind of his hips, making sure he filled you up all the way with each one. 

“So wet for me, mommy. Didn’t even have to touch you,” he keeps his palms splayed on your thighs, bearing his weight as he leans forward, pressing a kiss to the arch of your foot that dangles in the air. 

You whimper, face scrunching in pleasure, core clenching around him, he kisses up to your ankle, grazing his teeth against your skin, your hands shoot for his wrists, his forearms, just to hold them. Forcing words out, you say, “Been waiting for this, for you.”

“A whole week,” he picks up the pace, voice leaning into condescending, “must have been so hard.”

Your breath catches, eyes rolling back, a soft moan tumbling off your tongue, “Fuck, ‘t was. It was.”

“Quiet,” he reminds you, “or I’ll stop.”

“You won’t stop,” you mutter, fingers tightening over his wrists, a challenge. 

At that he stills, sitting back on his calves, leaving just the tip inside. “I won’t what?”

Jaw clenching, your hips follow him, he lays his palms over bone to keep you still. You stay like that for a moment, a game of chicken, eyes locked on his that stare at you expectantly. Obedience, silence, submission, he loves you bratty, he’s a brat himself, but when it comes to fucking you open on your couch just past nine at night, he expects you to listen. 

“Fine,” you shift against the cushions, “fine, you win.”

He pulls you onto his cock by your hips without a word and you have to slap a hand over your mouth to force yourself silent. The angle, the ease in which he mounted you onto him, your eyes slammed shut, gasping out a broken sound into your palm, he fills you up perfectly, carving into you like you were built to take him and him only, it’s war to not cry out in pleasure.

“Fuck,” under his breath, low, he tells you how good you feel in one blurted word. You roll your hips against him, meeting his thrusts, curved cock dragging along the front of your walls with each grind. 

“More,” you plead, grabbing for him, “kiss me.”

He crawls over you, elbows beside your ears again, pressing his lips to yours with a softness reserved for you. His hips slow, your ankles crossing over his back, pushing his hoodie up with your heels just to feel more of his skin against you. 

“Yes,” you whisper, breathing the same air, bodies moving together now, “just like that, daddy.”

His forehead meets yours, a quiet noise of pleasure rumbling from his chest, “‘m not gonna last.”

You kiss him again, tongue slotting between his lips, hands tugging at his roots, body moving in the shape of his, the only thing you can hear is your breath singing in harmony and the slick sound of your bodies conjoining. 

Six weeks of Wooyoung breaking you down on your couch, your kitchen counter, your living room floor, once against the wall just outside of your hallway bathroom. You don’t know what it is, you haven’t spoken any more of what it means, what comes next, the only thing you know is that you can’t stop. 

“Want me to fill you up? Fuck you full?”

You’re nodding, tongue catching on his lips, delirious with pleasure, your body ached for him. Burned for him. Only him. Always him– till death do you part.

“Yes, daddy,” you whisper, voice pitched and whiny. 

His hips stutter, he tucks his head into your neck to muffle his groan, fingers tightening in your hair that’s sprawled out around your head like a blanket. Losing his rhythm, his slow deep strokes turning shallow, quick– chasing a high he found so easily with you. 

Your toes curl over his back, chin tipping up when you feel the warmth spread, the heaviness, the feeling was indescribable. Claimed, owned, like he was marking his territory, it made your stomach swirl with affection, enough to pick his head up by his hair and kiss him again. 

Your hips rock, he whimpers. “T-too much, jagi, no.”

So warm, you glide against him, too slippery for there to be any resistance. The sound you make is small but it says everything you can’t, that you need more, you aren’t done. 

“D’you wanna sit on my face?" You hold his flushed cheeks instead, doe eyes staring up into his dilated pupils, begging. He shakes his head, “Can’t fuck you again, can’t.”

“Pussy,” you smack your teeth, “are you serious?”

“I’ll make you cum in under three,” he feeds you a peck of his lips, “promise.”

“Mommy?”

Both of your heads turn toward the staircase, the small voice that couldn’t see you from the platform at the top. It takes all of a millisecond for you to push Wooyoung away from you and jump off the couch.

“Coming!” You call, grabbing your shorts from the floor. Pulling them up your thighs, clenching hard to keep Wooyoung inside, you hiss at your ex, “Don’t fucking leave, you owe me.”

“Yes, mommy,” he nods, grin amused and lazy, “duty calls.”

You run up the stairs to find your brown-haired boy standing at the top, one of his fists rubbing at his eye, his favorite Frozen pajamas already pulled up and twisted at each and every hem. Before you have a chance to speak, he asks, “Who’s here?”

“No one,” you speak quietly, softly, turning him around by his shoulders, guiding him back into his bedroom. “Come on, baby, bed time.”

Five minutes of staring at the ceiling feels like a fucking lifetime until his tiny breaths turn slower, deeper. Creeping out of his bedroom once more, closing his door even softer than you did the first time, you nearly sprint down the steps to find Wooyoung still half-clothed.

“Now what if I brought him down here?” You stand before the couch, hands on your hips. 

“Why the hell would you do that?” He quips, leaning forward to grab you by the hips, pulling you back down to him. “He’s asleep?”

“Out like a light,” you throw your arms over his shoulders, taking your spot in his lap. “You promised me something.”

“Is that all I’m good for?” His brows raise and the question takes you by surprise.

Wiping the smirk off your lips, your arms lower a little, disarmed. “Sex?”

“Yeah,” he sits up a little, shifting where you sat on his lap. “We’ve been sneaking around for over a month, I haven’t pressed the date thing because you’ve never been one to break your promises and–”

“You were serious?” You push your brows up to your hairline, cutting him off. To make it clear, you repeat, “You seriously want to take me on a date.”

His head cocks to the side, “You didn’t think I was serious? Of course I want to take you out.”

“We’re divorced,” you argue, leaning back, adding space between you.

“I’m aware,” he says, as if he really means no shit. “You’re on my lap right now, I’m still dripping out of you, are you planning on fucking me after the sun goes down for the rest of our lives?”

“Not for the rest of our lives,” you shake your head a little, brows knitted together, confused.

“Oh, then until you’re over it?” He blows amusement through his nose. “We made a tiny human who’s upstairs right now and I’m suddenly disposable?”

“That’s not what I meant,” you rub your palms over your face, sucking in a deep breath. “I just thought this was, like, an agreement. I didn’t think either of us wanted anything more, I’m sorry if I misread the situation.”

“We’d have a chance to talk about it if you didn’t kick me out as soon as you came.”

“Wooyoung,” you gasp sharply, offended, “I do not do that.”

His brows raise, forgoing a verbal response. You think back on the past six weeks, remembering each and every night you’ve shoved him out of your front door as soon as he pulled his pants up, the memories flash through your mind like a medley. Your lips flatten, cheeks heating, guilt and shame forming in the pit of your belly. 

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, just above a whisper. 

“You really don’t want anything more?” 

He sounds wounded and your heart cracks beneath your ribs. His brows are upturned, mismatched eyes rounded out, pink lips still swollen from earlier almost pouting. You swallow, taking a second to be honest with yourself and your feelings… This works. The last six weeks have worked so effortlessly, so easily, you’ve been spending your days bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, so fulfilled you haven’t even considered what comes next. If anything comes next. 

“I haven’t been this happy in awhile,” you reply honestly, “I think I don’t want to fuck anything up, our sex life wasn’t this consistent when we were still married, it’s nice.”

His fingers squeeze your hips, pulling you closer to him, a small smile forming on his full lips. “All I want to do is take you out one time, jagi. We don’t have to put any pressure on it, let’s just go out for dinner, have a few drinks and talk. It’s been a long time since we’ve just talked.”

It puts a smile on your face, too. You run a hand through his hair, locks of coal soft between your fingers, “Okay, let’s go this weekend.”

His face lights up, “Really?”

You snort, “Yes, really. I’ll get a babysitter for Saturday and–”

“I’ll bring him to Yunho’s,” his hands slide up to your waist, under the hem of your tank, leaning forward until his chest brushes against you. “He hasn’t seen Aden in awhile, maybe they can have a sleepover.”

Your hands find the base of his neck, pulling him flush to you, “A sleepover?”

Wooyoung’s lips find yours, a small kiss, his hands traveling upward, cupping your breasts beneath your tank, “Maybe we can have a sleepover of our own.”

You gasp into his touch, brows furrowing in pleasure, “Please.”

“You can have me all night,” he reaches for the hem of your tank, pulling it swiftly over your head before his hands go right back to toying with your chest, pressing his thumbs over your nipples as he says, “We can fuck in our big, comfortable bed, all night if you want to. Just like old times.”

You moan softly, quietly, head going fuzzy like he’d cast a spell on you, “Let’s go up there now.”

He keeps his eyes on yours as he leans forward, tongue poking out to circle over your nipple before his lips wrap around it, sucking harshly. You suck in a sharp gasp, face twisting in pleasure, hips grinding into him beneath you, “Fuck, Wooyoung.”

“Saturday,” his voice is low, gravelly, it sends a shiver up your spine. “Tonight you get to ride my face.”

You can’t argue. Not when he brushes his nose over your spit-soaked nipple, giving you a perfect view of the curve of cartilage, already imagining bucking your hips against it. 

Immediately you’re climbing off of his lap, pointing to the rug beneath your feet, “On the floor.”

“Whatever you want, mommy.”

“Damn.”

It’s loud enough for the neighbors to hear. On your porch, fist over his lips, his brows are scrunched like he can’t believe his eyes, he looks you up and down three times before he whistles. 

You snort, rolling your eyes, pulling your front door closed behind you. “Shut up, Wooyoung.”

He steps backwards, down one of your cement stairs, watching as you bend over slightly to lock your front door. Voice amused, he continues, “All dressed up for lil’ ole me? The dreaded ex?”

You turn around with a smile, “I’m keeping my word.”

His hand goes over his heart, frowning, “That hurt.”

“Shut up,” you shake your head, fighting your amusement as you move to step down, following him, he keeps his feet planted where he stands, an unmovable force.

Then he cracks a grin. “What, you’re not even gonna kiss me hello?”

You cross your arms over the front of your dress, sleek and red and hugging every inch of your body you want to be hugged. You got it on sale, an outfit you’ve been saving for the right occasion, you can’t believe tonight, of all nights, is the night you took it off the hanger. 

You can’t believe you pulled it out for Wooyoung. 

“Good things come to those who wait,” you sing, “if you’re on your best behavior maybe you’ll get a kiss goodnight.”

He groans, head tipping backward, eyes squeezing shut, “You’re gonna make me hard.”

“I hate you,” you laugh, pushing on his chest, making him tumble backward a step. You follow him down the staircase, towards his still-running SUV in your driveway, “Where are we going?”

He said to dress nice, two days ago in a short text-exchange that started off with you asking if he forgot to drop off Kyungmin’s backpack, which you found in the corner of your living room approximately nine seconds later. Two texts back and forth before he reminded you of your date tonight, that he’d already made the plans with Yunho and Aurora, Kyungmin would stay over at their house tonight to have a sleepover with their son, Aden.

Yunho was Wooyoung’s friend from college, living only fifteen minutes from where you lived on the outskirts of the city, suburbia with a good school district, which is where Kyungmin had met their son, Aden, the second of four. You wondered how they did it, you had your hands tied with only one. 

“It’s a surprise,” he walks to the passenger side, opening the door for you. 

“Wow,” you raise your brows, “such a gentleman. Who even are you anymore?”

He holds an arm out for you to grab as you climb in, “I’m just a husband taking his sexy ass wife out to dinner, that’s all.”

“Ex-husband,” you correct, “ex-wife.” 

He leans against the door with a smile, “Whatever you say.” 

He looks good. Dress pants on his legs, tailored, all his dress pants are. A button-up, rolled up on his veiny forearms, showcasing his tattoo, the top two buttons undone. Dressed in all black so his golden skin gleams in each pocket where it shows, fuck he knows how to dress himself and God it pisses you off. His hair is styled, down, tucked behind his ears, it frames his face effortlessly, beautifully, part of you wants to ask if you can make a pit-stop in the backseat.

It’s a thirty minute drive, filled with the same soft rock playing from his speakers, he talks over it the whole time. From Kyungmin to work to his apartment, which he nags at you that you still haven’t seen the inside of, the conversation is as easy as it always is. Bickering, of course, but you’ve been bickering since you were twenty-two. Fifteen years of partnership, of friendship, of learning each other down to particles and atoms, awkward silence has never existed between you. 

A fancy restaurant, one that just opened in the city, dim lighting and red velvet and black leather, you couldn’t tell if you were supposed to eat dinner or each other. Side-eyeing Wooyoung as the hostess brought you to your table, the moment she left you quirked a brow, “Is this foreplay?”

He grabs the drink menu, “It can be if you want it to be.”

So shameless it makes your lips part. “Are we in a restaurant or a sex club?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s a restaurant,” he doesn’t look up over the menu, “but we could make it a sex club if you want to make it a sex club.” You snort, reaching over to steal the drink menu from his hands. He scoffs, “No way you’re reading that as if you aren’t gonna nurse one margarita until it’s tequila-water.”

“Shut up,” you grumble, “maybe I’m in the mood for something different.”

You quickly scan the specials, the list of bottles they carry, different brands of wine they have. Pursing your lips, you quickly realize you’re not in the mood for something different. 

Shoving the menu back into his hands, you mumble, “Fine.”

He laughs, a high, amused giggle, “You’re so predictable.”

“You just know me,” you huff, “not predictable.”

When the waiter comes by, Wooyoung not only orders his beer, but he orders your margarita, too. Casamigos, salt on the rim, you don’t correct him because you’re as predictable as they come. Your cheeks heat up anyway, you might be predictable but he remembers and it sends a streak of heat up your spine. Whatever. 

You’re reading the menu, or trying to with your bottom lip caught between your teeth, seeing words but not ingesting any of them. Maybe you should just let him order your meal for you, too.

“What’s bothering you?” He asks, and you glance upward like he’s ripped you out of a trance.

You purse your lips, shaking your head a little, defensive. “Nothing.”

“I’ve known you for over a decade,” his lips curl at the corner, “I’ve lived with you, I’ve loved you, you’re the mother of my son. Is it so crazy that I know you? One year spent apart out of fifteen is nothing.”

You can feel the heat in the tips of your ears, you forgot he knows you down to your thoughts, too. A small sigh escapes you, “Do you wanna start now? Before there’s even any food on the table?”

He leans forward, smile mischievous, “Hey, there’s bread.”

You push air out of your nose, amused as you sit back in the upholstered chair. “It’s just stupid. We’ve only been divorced for a year, and look at us. We’re in a sex club that has a kitchen.”

His lips thin before he answers. “Did you really think we’d stay separated?"

“Yes?” Your head tilts with the question. “Did you not?”

“No,” he answers honestly, “I’ve been working on myself a lot this past year. All the time spent away from you, Kyungie, it’s given me space that I never wanted. Space I’ve filled with things to better myself, for him, for you.”

“What, did you get a promotion or something?” You quirk a brow, “Work stuff?”

He smacks his teeth, “I went to therapy.”

“You went to therapy?” Your brows meet your hairline, “Like, the couch and everything?”

“No, she made me sit on the floor,” he muses. “She actually has a brown, leather chair. She helped me figure a lot of my shit out, that way when it was time for me to propose the idea of us seeing each other again, it’d be different. I’d be different.”

“Woo, I had no idea,” your heart picks up speed in your chest. “I didn’t even know that you were this… bothered about us separating, to be honest.” 

His face scrunches up in disbelief, “That’s bullshit.”

“I’m serious!” You argue, “The divorce process was so smooth, I guess over time I got it in my head that it was smooth because it was mutual.”

“It was never, not even for a second, mutual.”

“You made it easy,” you shrug, picking up your margarita, taking a sip. “You never told me the details, I only knew what I found out from your mother. She never mentioned therapy.”

“You knew what I wanted you to know,” he sets his menu down in front of him. “It’s not like we were exactly on speaking terms, you didn’t give me the opportunity to fix anything while we were still together, either.”

Your stomach churns. “I gave you a lot of chances, Wooyoung.”

“Not enough,” he argues, not sternly, earnestly. He picks up his beer. “You gave up on me.”

“I gave up on being a single mother in my own marriage,” your voice is low, quiet. Your throat feels tight. 

The waiter comes, Wooyoung orders for the both of you, something you would’ve chosen for yourself. Your thoughts are too loud for you to pay it any mind. 

“I’ll have to live with the fact that I made you feel that way until the day I die,” his face is solemn, his words so honest your heart feels like stone in your chest. “But I thought I was doing the right thing, setting us up for our future, setting our son up for his future. For a long time I couldn’t understand why that wasn’t enough for you.”

“But you understand now?”

He nods, “Strangely enough, you making that deal with me at the conference, about having San speak, it might’ve been the final piece that put everything together. I feel like I can see it clearly now, and it feels so fucking stupid looking back.”

“Yeah?” Your lips curve at the corners, “Did your therapist enjoy my ultimatum?”

“I think she thinks we’re childish,” he laughs a little, “she doesn’t say that, but I can kinda feel it. Like we’re still kids playing at being adults.”

“We are,” your smile widens, “but now I keep wipes and snacks in my purse instead of lipgloss and condoms that we never used.”

“Don’t talk mommy to me right now,” his face scrunches together like you pressed your foot against his crotch. “We’re still in public.”

You stare at him over the salt on the rim of your glass, taking a sip of your margarita before you mumble, “I don’t think anyone here would be bothered.”

“I want to try again,” he wipes the smile off his face, voice a little louder, stronger. “Just to lay everything on the table, I’ve been wanting to try again and if a hookup at a work conference is the start of it unfolding, then so be it.”

You take a second before responding. “Do you really feel like I gave up on you?”

“Yes,” there’s no room for uncertainty, the agreement is crystal clear. “But I know I pushed you to that point, and I know in the end it was my fault. I should have been around more to help you. Just to have been there.”

Your bottom lip quivers, he catches it as soon as the first twitch tugs at your mouth.

“No, no crying,” he reaches his hand across the table, searching for yours. You tangle your fingers with his, his palm warm, fingers encasing your hand within his own perfectly like you were made for each other. “If you’re open to trying again, to giving me another chance, it’ll be different this time. I’m different, but I still love you, I still want to be beside you.”

You wipe at your eyes before tears fall past your waterline, “I love you too, but I did my makeup for this.”

“And it looks beautiful,” his lips curve, “but it’s just gonna get ruined later, anyway.”

“Why would it–” You meet his eye, the mischievous glint. “Oh, fuck you.”

“Hopefully I’m lucky and you will fuck me.”

“Is sex all you think about?” You laugh, then tease him, “Is that all I’m good for?”

He glares across the table, “Too soon.”

“You’re the one who said we were gonna roll around in my bed all night.”

“Once upon a time, it was our bed,” he releases your fingers to point at you, “and I know it’s lonely in that big ass bed without me.”

“Who’s to say I’m lonely?” You taunt, “Maybe there’s been plenty of men warming my bed since we separated.”

“You,” he says it like it’s obvious, “at the conference you said there was no one else, so unless you lied, you’ve spent over a year alone, in that bed, playing with yourself and wishing it was me.”

You think everyone in the restaurant could hear the gasp that erupted from your chest. Wooyoung’s head tips back in laughter and you curse under your breath, whisper-shouting, “We’re in public, Jung Wooyoung.”

“The mom-voice makes it funnier,” he’s still laughing, a hand over his mouth, “scolding me like I’m five. Fuck, do you remember when Kyungmin drew all over the wall in the living room? With fucking Sharpies?”

You groan, digging your head into your palms, elbows propped up on the table. “Still to this day I fucking hate the feeling of Magic Erasers.”

“You sounded just like that,” he takes a deep breath to control his laughter, then puts on his best you-voice to mock you. “Jung Kyungmin, we color in coloring books, not on the walls.” 

The memory makes you smile, even laugh a bit under your breath, “It’s only funny now because I got the Sharpie off the wall.”

“It was funny then, too, trust me.” 

The food comes hot and perfect, neither of you speak for the first few bites, until Wooyoung catches you staring at his plate, at his food. Mid-bite he pauses, popping a brow, “Want to try?”

You smile, and he smiles back, reaching over, fork in hand. The sound that leaves you is almost fitting for the restaurant you’re in. “I like yours,” you mumble, putting on your best doe-eyed look, making him snort. 

“I’d be mad, but I’m too nostalgic,” he hums, satisfied with a smile on his cheeks he reaches over to grab your plate, switching it with his own. “Can I pretend I ordered mine for the sole intent of giving it to you?”

“No,” you hum happily, “it’s better that you gave yours to me. More romantic that way.”

He shakes his head, “First day back and you’re already spoiled.”

“Technically I still haven’t agreed,” you shrug, eyes on your food, about to take another bite before you realized Wooyoung had paused entirely. Looking over the table, you giggle at his deadpanned face, brows flat, lips flat, his entire face flat. 

“Not funny.” He tightens his lips again. “Are you agreeing? Do you want to give me another chance?”

“Is this an immediate answer kind of thing?” You ask, food still halfway to your mouth, “Or can I get back to you on it?”

He purses his lips like he’s deciding the answer for himself before he gives you one. Eventually, when your bite is swallowed, he answers. “I guess you can think about it.”

“You guess?” Facing your plate, your eyes flicker across the table. 

“Do you understand how long I’ve been waiting?” He doesn’t sound aggressive or forceful, or like he’s urging you towards an answer. “I had you for fifteen years and I just spent over an entire year without you.”

“You say that like I didn’t spend a year without you, too,” you argue, “you aren’t alone in that feeling, Wooyoung.”

“I just want my life back,” his voice settles into something just above a whisper, too raw for the crowded restaurant. “I want you, I want Kyungminnie, I want to come home.”

You swear you can see an entire year of pain in his eyes. Chocolate that’s usually melted, milky sweet, a delicacy, is deepened into something dark; hardened with time spent apart, changed with a life lesson that needed to be felt in order to be learned. He’s the same but he’s different, you can feel it, you know it. 

All you can do is pray he doesn’t disappoint you again.

He keeps his hand on your thigh the entire drive home.

Quiet for once, the calm before the storm, you use the silence to think about your time spent apart, how it affected you. He was right, alone in your king-sized bed, but more than that you’ve learned so much about yourself in the year spent away from him. Kids fresh out of college, thrown into the workforce, pregnant before your first paycheck, court-signed documents without a big party to follow, your adult life has been spent entirely by his side. 

You’ve learned strength. You’ve learned to trust yourself. You’ve come to fall in love with yourself, by yourself, the you that wasn’t half-Jung. Despite the tears, the nights drowning in self-doubt, of not knowing what the next day would look like, you did it. 

And now he’s back, and he promised that he changed. 

You don’t know whether or not to trust the tiny voice in the back of your mind, you don’t know if it’s nerves or a gut-feeling. But when you turn your head to the side, to the man you’ve spent fifteen years loving, adoring, his chiseled jaw and his curved nose and the veiny, tattooed forearm that’s attached to the steering wheel, it’s easy to admit that you want him to come home, too. 

You missed him. You miss him, and he’s beside you. 

You miss him making the bed in the morning, having coffee on the pot downstairs, already prepped for you. You miss him shoveling the driveway in the winter, mowing the lawn in the summer. You miss him taking out the trash. You miss him fixing a toy when Kyungmin breaks it. You miss him doing your fucking taxes. You miss him doing the dishes after you cooked dinner, you miss him stealing the dishes out of your hands when he cooked dinner.

You miss the mundane things. 

You miss the way he kisses you goodmorning, when he gets home from work, before bed, randomly, mid-day on a Saturday. You miss him making Kyungmin laugh. You miss the way his skin feels on yours, the way he finishes your thought before you’ve finished it, the way he makes it so easy to believe that it’s possible to love another human so much. 

You miss him present most of all.

“If I agree,” you speak into the silence, his fingers add the slightest pressure onto your thigh. “You swear you’ll be around?”

“Yes.” The word is final. “I’ve made the changes already. You’re my priority.”

You don’t answer, you let the words sink in. It’ll take time, learning to believe him, learning to trust his words again, but something settles in your chest, in your gut, something calm. It reminds you that you can still be yourself, you can still be strong, you can still trust yourself, you can still be in love with yourself– but he’s here to love you, to trust you, to lean on you for strength, too. There’s something about it that’s comforting, that’s right.

The house is dark when you walk through your front door. You forgot to leave the lights on, the lamp in the corner of the living room, the one above the kitchen sink. So scatterbrained about being out with Wooyoung, about your kid sleeping at someone else’s house, you huff a curse as soon as the darkness welcomes you home. 

While you turn the lamp on, without a word he’s in the kitchen, turning on the other above the sink. 

And for some reason that’s enough. 

Maybe it’s how he looks, doused in twilight, standing in the kitchen he designed. Shadows finding home in the structure of his face, the tattoo on his forearm, the veins that swirled around it, blending into the vines, rippling each thorn of the rose. Maybe it was just the fact that after all this time, seeing him here, in your kitchen that you left exactly how it was the day you kicked him out, reminded you just how deeply you love him. That even though you’ve spent a year apart and you’ve learned to love so much about yourself, the part of you that you love most, is the half of you that’s him. 

You hope he feels it as you kiss him, standing in the space between the two counters, the long, skinny walkway between the sink and the island. Your arms around his shoulders, his find your waist, sliding down to your hips, then behind you, taking two fistfuls of your ass. 

You squeak into the kiss and he turns you, scooping under your thighs to lift you, placing your ass on the kitchen counter. You don’t break the kiss, feet hooking around his back, fingers curling into his roots, tongue sliding between his lips like you were the one coming home. 

He hikes your dress up, warm palms searing the skin beneath fabric, slipping under the hem just to rest there like he couldn’t deny himself feeling you any longer. You’re panting into his mouth, sizzling under his touch, you whisper, “I need you.”

He pulls away, putting an inch between your faces, “Here?”

“I don’t care where,” your hands find his cheeks, holding him close, “I need you, Jung Wooyoung.”

His eyes flicker over your features like he’s reading your thoughts and it takes him all of a second for his fingers to dart to the hem of your dress. You lift yourself so it pools around your hips, reaching forward for his button-up, getting only three unbuttoned while his fingers work the button and zipper of his pants. Both of you panting, heartbeats uneven, your feet stretch to reach the opposite counter, palms planted on the one you sat on, shifting yourself to the edge as Wooyoung frees himself from his briefs.

Your tongue pokes out to wet your lips, tasting remnants of your lipstick and his saliva on your tongue. The lack of a rebuttal from him, of snarky, taunting comments– this was different than him filling you silently on your living room couch. One hand moves your thin, lace thong to the side as the other grips his length, prodding at your entrance, making you gasp. 

He fills you quickly, slipping inside with barely any resistance, the two of you moaning out in relief and pleasure. He grumbles out a curse, reaching the hilt, hands finding your hips, fingers bruising into your skin.

“Jagi,” he whispers. “Wanna give you a baby.”

Your eyes meet his and he’s looking at you like you’re the only person in the world. Like nothing else matters except you and him, like the outside world melted away, like you haven’t built and ruined a life between you. Like it was fifteen years ago and you’d just opened the first page of your love story. 

“Do it, then,” you whisper back, eyes glossy, throat tight. “Give me one.”

“Can I?” He asks, face stone, as if you couldn’t feel his cock twitch inside you. He wasn’t asking permission, he was questioning the possibility.

Counting in your head, you wait a moment to reply, “Yes. Slim, but yes.”

He grins ear to ear, that same shit-eating grin he wears when he gets what he wants whether he fights for it or not. Then he moves, a shallow, promising thrust, grinding into the deepest spot inside you, making you hiss out a curse. 

“Have to fill you,” his eyes find your meeting, watching himself as he barely thrusts, keeping himself buried. “Nice n’ deep. Make sure it takes.”

Your head dips backward, arching into him, skin catching on the glossiness of the counter you’d wiped down before you left the house. “Please.”

He grunts, fingers searing your skin, picking up his pace. “Fuck, need to see you pregnant. Belly full of my fuckin’ kid.”

“Wooyoung,” your voice is breathy, shaky, full of arousal as you moan his name, it makes him grunt out a curse, hips slapping against yours, reverberating through the room, bouncing off the stainless steel appliances. 

His hands on your hips use the strength of his arms to lift you, pulling you off the counter with too much fucking ease. He slips out of you before your feet hit the floor, but he’s back inside you as soon as your back presses against the cool wood of the kitchen floor, freshly mopped this morning, knowing he’d be here tonight. 

His lips are on yours, your legs hooked over his back, panties thrown somewhere you didn’t care to see. His shirt is open, still over his shoulders, trapping you between the open panels like it was shading you from something, anything that wasn’t him. 

His hair feels silken between your fingers as you tug at his roots, keeping him as close as possible, never close enough. Murmuring words into each other’s lips, the sound of his skin hitting yours muted it, like the two of you were stuck in a time-warp, a lovesick bubble you entered fifteen years ago. 

Pressure builds with each thrust, your moans growing in pitch, and Wooyoung keeps his eyes on yours, his bottom lip touching yours, assessing, watching, feeling, waiting for you to crest your peak without any stimulation to your clit. His eyes flare when your breathing catches, keeping his rhythm unfaltering, his angle locked, muttering yes, yes as you approach the high only he can give you. 

He groans when he feels the pressure blow, as you clench around him, the heels of your feet digging into his back, he catches your lips between his own to feel everything, all of it, all of you. 

The silence says everything. You’re stuck in euphoria as his cock drags over that same spot inside you, his head dropped down to your shoulder, your nails clawing at his back as he takes you for everything you’re worth. Every drop of pleasure, every emotion, you handed everything over to him, put it in his palms, let him cradle it– had you ever even taken it back for yourself?

“Gonna give you a baby,” he mutters into your skin, voice jagged like the edge of a blade, a man slicing a promise into your skin. “Gonna give you a girl this time. Pretty like her mama.”

“Yes,” it’s a whimper, a plea. “I love you, please– I love you.”

He grunts, heavy and rough, hips smacking yours with fervor, picking up his pace, weighting his thrusts. He picks up his head, palms finding your cheeks, holding your scrunched up face between them before he presses his mouth to yours, and you can taste the I love you too on his tongue.

Into his mouth, weak, soft, you utter, “I missed you.”

And why the admittance brought tears to your eyes, you aren’t sure. But they fell to his thumbs and he seemed to understand even if you didn’t, kissing you deeper, tongue slotting into your mouth as if he was soothing your scars. 

He finished inside you with a low grunt that vibrated through you and into the hardwood beneath, cock hilted, buried so deep you weren’t sure where you ended and he began. You wanted to stay there, full of him, in the bubble you’d fucking missed being in, but his phone ringing on top of the counter had you both moving before you could breathe. 

“Yunho,” is all he said before he pressed the phone up to his ear, still panting, brows furrowed. You stood up, dress falling over your hips, thighs wet and legs jelly, you leaned an arm over the counter for stability, silent enough to hear Yunho on the line.

Yeah, he threw up… Asking for you… Rory took his temp, he has a fever… He’s on the couch now… Okay, see you soon…

Wooyoung hung up with a sigh, “Rain check for rolling around in our bed?”

You cracked a smile, “What’s your schedule looking like on Monday?”

Wooyoung snorts as he tucks himself into his slacks, fingers working his buttons, “I’ll drive.”

Aurora had the door open before you’d made it up the steps of their front porch. “Sorry for cutting the date night short.” 

Her sad smile was full of apology, she had one arm on the door as she held it open for the two of you. Pajama pants on her legs, slippers on her feet, her oversized tee that said Nasara University had one shoulder cut off. Hair tied in a bun on top of her head, bare-faced, so effortlessly gorgeous you felt self-conscious even if you were still in your red dress.

“Thanks for taking care of him, Ro,” Wooyoung replies. “Yunho said he’s on the couch?”

Ro. A nickname you haven’t heard before. Storing the info for later, you followed Wooyoung inside, taking note that their house was full of everything warm and cozy. Toys littered the floor, picture frames on the walls, nothing was tidy or put together. Not dirty, but… Lived in. Like six people lived here and not one of them was hiding the fact. The TV on and playing an old cartoon from when you were all kids, three out of Yunho and Aurora’s four sat on the living room floor just before Kyungmin who was curled up on the couch, blanket covering his body. 

You stayed back while Wooyoung crossed the room, saying hi to the kiddos before scooping Kyungmin up in his arms. Aurora spoke while you watched him, “Yunho’s upstairs with the baby, she woke up when the kids started screaming about throw up.”

“Sorry,” you scratched the back of your head, cheeks flaring heat. You hoped you didn’t smell like sex. You also hoped she wasn’t thinking about the fact that you and Wooyoung are divorced and together right now. 

But she just waved her hand, “Please, don’t be. She’s a terrible sleeper anyways, and all four of them were playing dress up in June’s room. She was bound to wake up sooner or later.”

“Dress up?” You cracked a smile. 

“June has the time of her life dressing up her siblings,” she smiled with you, “and I think Aden enjoys it more than she does. They call it Fashion Runway, and Kyungmin was the star tonight, just so you know. June and Aden said he’s their new muse.”

You snort, not a lick of surprise on your face, “I need to see this.”

“You guys should come over more,” she offers, looking at Wooyoung as he returns with your gray-faced son’s head on his shoulder. “We should do the things the cool families do, hangout while the kids hangout, conjoined vacations and shit. We live so close and we never do anything.”

You look at Wooyoung who nods like he was brushing her off. “Yeah, sure. Don’t you wanna wait til’ Sunnie gets a little older?”

Her brows furrow, “No?”

“Sunnie’s a cute name,” you turn to her. “I didn’t know that was her name. How old is she?”

“Her first birthday is next month, I invited you guys, he didn’t tell you?” Her brows furrow further as you shake your head. Her eyes thin as she glances at Wooyoung, “Sunnie’s short for Woosun. Named after her godfather who apparently doesn’t want to come to her first birthday party.”

You will your face into staying neutral, like you knew Wooyoung was Aurora’s daughter’s godfather. “Woosun’s a gorgeous name.”

“Yunho came up with it,” her smile is proud, and if she could see yours, the one you’re hiding behind your stone features, you think she might be terrified of you. Your eyes find Wooyoung’s and he looks as gray as Kyungmin, face dropped, fear rippling in his chocolate brown eyes. 

“Thanks again for taking care of him, Aurora.” You barely hear her response as she gives you a side-hug. She smells clean, like grapefruit and vanilla, a hint of baby formula like she’d just finished feeding Woosun. Woosun. 

You don’t speak until after Wooyoung buckles in Kyungmin, your son still somehow knocked out in the backseat, head lolled to the side. Wooyoung tugged on the seatbelt twice, making sure it was locked, keeping him in place. You see the glitter on him then, on his eyelids, his cheeks, his hair, he’s in clothes that aren’t is. God, did he throw up on his own clothes? You didn’t even notice, nor did you ask for his clothes back. You’d have Wooyoung text her tomorrow.

Seated in the driver’s, he flips the engine, eerily quiet. Waiting for you. So you start. 

“I thought Yunho was your friend from college.”

He takes a steadying breath before he speaks, “He was, is. But I’ve always been friendlier with Ro.”

“Ro,” you repeat, lips scrunching together. Your head shakes slowly, “Define friendlier.”

“Baby, we went to college together–”

“Don’t baby me,” you snap, keeping your voice quiet to not wake up your son, “you just tried to give me a daughter and then I find out you’re the godfather of someone else’s?”

“I was going to–”

“You were going to tell me nothing,” you snap again, hearing your heartbeat in your ears. “You used to fuck her, then? In college? Is that why we’ve never hung out with them?”

“It was more than that,” his voice is defensive, curt. Your lips snap shut, eyes widening a fraction. “We were together for a while, but it was… complicated. Everything about that time was complicated.”

“She named her fucking kid after you,” your voice is quiet but not any less venomous. “You know everything about me. Everything. And after fifteen years, I’d expect to know everything about you. Why keep it a secret?”

He keeps his eyes on the road, even if they blaze with emotion; fear, guilt, shame, remorse. “I don’t know if I can even explain it, she’s– she’s special. Different from a girlfriend or a hookup, we went through a lot of tough shit together.”

Eyes widening further, throat tightening, you can taste the salt lining your eyes. Your voice comes out hoarse, “She’s so special that you couldn’t tell your wife about her?”

“There’s nothing I could say that wouldn’t make you feel like this. She’s married, happily, with four kids. If you knew our history you wouldn’t want me around her.”

“And that’s more important? Being around her? Than me knowing the truth?”

“No,” he shakes his head tight. “No, it’s not. I spent a lot of time at their house while we were separated, and the three of us got really close again–”

“So that’s why she said we should all hangout,” you laugh a little, it’s dry, lacking amusement. “She wants to know what the wicked ex-wife that divorced you is like.”

“No,” he counters, voice raising, exasperated. “I never said anything bad about you, fuck. After the conference I talked to them, and she needs a girlfriend. I basically pimped you out to her, to be her friend.”

“Pimped me out to a girl you used to date. Fuck. Go through tough shit with.”

“We weren’t close during our marriage,” he argues, eyes flickering up to check on the still-sleeping Kyungmin through the rear-view mirror. “I sought them out after you divorced me, I needed a friend, and I knew Kyungmin and Aden were in the same class, I– they helped me.”

“Your ex-girlfriend and her husband helped you. Did they invite you into their bed? Help take your mind off your sad, divorced heart?”

“I’m not going to talk until you stop seeing red. Calm down and then speak to me like an adult.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you stare out the window, and let the tears fall. 

Kyungmin lay on the couch, asleep again after another round of emptying the contents of his stomach into the same stained bowl you use for popcorn on movie nights. You and Wooyoung sat on the floor on the other side of the coffee table, staring at him. So small, his face looks so peaceful, in a deep, hopefully dreamless sleep. He changed your lives eight years ago. Forced you into an adulthood you weren’t prepared for, the greatest blessing you didn’t ask for. A gift. 

“Think he has the flu?” Wooyoung asks after too long of staring at the boy you created in silence. His hands stretched behind him, legs in front of him, body sagged with exhaustion. It’s been a long day.

“Maybe a stomach bug,” you reply through a sigh, sitting with your arms curled around your knees. “Time will tell. If his fever’s still up tomorrow, I’ll take him to the doctor.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“You don’t need to.”

“I’m his father, I want to.”

You swear, it’s grumbled, irritated. You can still feel the stickiness between your thighs, almost like it’s taunting you now. Telling you good job, you get to have another baby with a liar!

 “I didn’t mean for this to happen.” Wooyoung’s voice is grave. “Aurora is harmless. I don’t love her, I’m not into her, there’s nothing left between us but friendship.”

“You’re missing the point, Wooyoung. It’s not about her, it’s about the fact that you kept it from me for fifteen years.”

“It wasn’t relevant for fifteen years. But it’s relevant now, and I’m telling you.”

“Because you were put in a situation where you had to tell me,” your head snaps to the side, glaring at him. “You should have told me when we had the whole exes conversation over a decade ago, or maybe when you found out Aden was in the same class as Kyung, or when she named her daughter after you, or when she made you the fucking godfather. You had a million-and-one chances to tell me.”

Wooyoung sighs, “It was a wound I didn’t want to reopen back then, but I should have. I’m sorry.”

“It feels wrong,” you look back at Kyungmin, a frown on your lips. “Knowing you had a relationship with these people deep enough for them to name their child after you, and I don’t know any of it. It makes me feel like I don’t know you, like there’s a side of you that you’ve kept from me all these years.”

“Do you want to know the full story?” He glances sideways, and the look you give him is an obvious yes. He sighs, “Fuck. Alright.” 

And you sit there, for an entire hour as he reveals a side of himself that you’ve never gotten a glimpse of. Partying, threesomes, Aurora, men– so many men, and even though that part didn’t take you by surprise, it did make you wonder. The tough shit was about her, Yunho surprisingly, her father, her own personal issues that Wooyoung had adopted like his own and helped her through. Living with his cousin, switching his major, supporting his mother, all the fucked up people who went to his university that married each other. You wondered how well they turned out. 

“Her and Yunho, made for each other. Their kids were a blessing, and they started younger than we did. Then kept fucking going.”

It made you laugh a little, and as the sound hit his ears, he finally cracked a small smile. Glancing at you, he muttered, “I did love her, I loved everything about her. But our relationship, me in her life, it was for a purpose, y’know? And when it was fulfilled, after I’d done what I was… destined to do or whatever, her life got a lot better. She got better. Everything got better, actually.”

“You were all too young for all of that shit.” It’s all you could say. All you could muster up seeing Wooyoung’s life twenty years ago pass through his eyes, listening to him describe it like it happened yesterday. 

“I know,” he heaved a sigh, laying back on his elbows. “But then I met you and I thought it was my turn to be happy. To feel like I had it all figured out.”

“Then I got pregnant.”

He laughed, a rich, light sound. “Then you got pregnant.” He sat in silence for a moment, glancing at your son on the couch, before he bit his lip in contemplation. “I have something else to tell you. Since we’re being honest.”

Your heart dropped, skin feeling icy-hot. Nervously glancing at him, your voice comes out shaky as you ask, “What?”

“We’re still married.” 

You blinked. “No we’re not.”

“Yes we are.”

Fingers meeting the floor on either side of you, you shook your head, warning, “Wooyoung.”

“That’s why the divorce process was so easy,” he isn’t looking at you, his eyes stay on Kyungmin, unblinking. “Because I never filed for it.”

“I filed for it,” you counter.

“With my lawyer,” his eyes meet yours. “Who I paid generously not to file.”

“What? I–”

The walls felt like they were closing in. He continued, “I thought it was hasty. That you would regret it, or that you didn’t mean it, or that I’d fix it, I don’t know. I couldn’t stomach the idea of us not being together, so I faked it.”

“You pay me child-support, Wooyoung.”

“I know,” he shrugs, lips thin. “I just… I don’t know. I didn’t think we’d stay apart forever.”

You stare at him for a moment, a thunderstorm brewing beneath your skin. “Get out.”

His head snaps to the side, eyes wide, “What?”

“Get out,” you repeat, firmer. “Get the fuck out.”

“Wait– Let me explain, I–”

“Jung Wooyoung get the fuck out of my house.”

“I love you,” he argues, voice strained, turning his entire body to face you as you start standing up. “With my entire heart and soul. I can’t live without you any longer, without him, please talk to me– please talk this out, please–”

“I’m filing first thing tomorrow morning,” you bite, voice so fucking harsh and venemous you can’t believe it came from your lips. “With a different lawyer, my own fucking lawyer. You better hope and pray that I’m not fucking pregnant.”

sorry lol my masterlist & plum's masterlist

[lilhwahwa]

This is so messy I love it (literally messy and like mentally too)

[katiny07]

⤷ ゛pretty bird - p.sh ˎˊ˗

٠࣪⭑ prostitute!seonghwa x afab!reader ٠࣪⭑ synopsis ╰┈➤ where seonghwa develops an infatuation with a woman who repeatedly refuses his services; takes place in late feudal era japan ٠࣪⭑ word count╰┈➤ 13.8k ٠࣪⭑ cw ╰┈➤ smut (mdni!), [semi]-public sex, p-in-v, unprotected sex, fingering, cheirophilia, dacryphilia, obsessive hwa if you squint, dom hwa, begging, overstimulation, cum swallowing, dirty talk, praise, edging, pet name usage (pretty bird) ٠࣪⭑ terms to know before reading: getas > traditional shoes worn in feudal era japan yukata > casual form of kimono, worn by commoners in this context shogun > military rulers zataku > low dining tables; the type of tables you have to be on your knees to eat at ٠࣪⭑ a/n ╰┈➤ i tried to research proper clothing/other cultural aspects. please let me know if anything is inaccurate!

“Come back again tomorrow.”

The sudden slump in your shoulders was followed by your defeated groan. Your gaze trailed down to the merchant across from you; her frown spread across her wrinkled face as she saw the bamboo woven basket rested firmly in your grip. You heard her sigh before she spoke apologetically.

“A man came by and purchased the last bunch of the night. Right before you appeared,” her head dipped and glanced down at the absent goods from her stand. 

“That is why I’m still here. If it weren’t for my worn out bones, I’d be returning home by now,” she chuckled, “I can’t move as fast as I used to.”

You stared down at your empty basket, the sudden wave of disappointment evident on your face. All of the effort needed for sneaking out of your estate and disobeying your curfew to search for a late night snack because of the strict diets your family put you through was now just a waste. You sighed; maybe this is a sign from the universe to stop sneaking out at night, the thought crossed your mind. The defeated look you carried on your face glanced up at the older merchant.

“I understand…” You bowed your head down before you began to walk away, giving the merchant one last solemn look. The farther you walked, the more your stomach craved yakitori: the yakitori that was sold for a price so low that it was almost offensive, and the yakitori that tasted better than any course that was fed to you to maintain your figure. This yakitori was a staple in your diet that preceded any sleep that your parents assumed you were getting.

Walking home with an empty stomach and an empty basket could almost be as bad as your sneaking habits being discovered by your father. Normally when you snuck out, you would be loaded with sweet and savory goods that you couldn’t get anywhere else. The yakitori from Mrs. Ogura was the cherry on top that made the late night runs so special. Except tonight was unique, where it seemed that a crowd before you had already swept the goods before you could even make it.

As you continued the disappointing trek home, you fell upon a fork in the road. Two pathways that lead you home were presented. The quiet lane, as you called it, was the path you normally took. It was a path that cut through residential buildings for commoners and other vendors. Except this time, the quiet lane was far from quiet; a crowd had gathered around to witness what appeared to be a dispute between two men. You glanced over to the other path; it gave a shorter journey back home and less people to potentially recognize you and your status. Normally it would be an easy decision on where you should go, but this shorter path was home to the Red Light District, a place you had no business being in. You watched older men stumble into brothels and soaphouses while there were women who drew customers in with just a quick glance and wink. You glanced at the quiet lane, now showing no signs of deescalation, and then glanced back at the Red Light District. As if your shoulders couldn’t slump any deeper, you sighed and walked away from the quiet lane.

Keep your head down, don’t make eye contact with anyone, you repeated those affirmations in your head as your eyes were glued onto the uneven, maroon pavement. It’ll be easy to avoid confrontation with people here since it’s not like these workers force you into prostitution. That is what you kept telling yourself at least; you could feel stares burning onto your passing slumped figure. You were moving as fast as your getas could muster, but the uphill road seemed to have not seen renovation in decades. 

The tension in your body withered slowly as the hike continued. You heard a few whistles and calls, but none of them were directed to you. One by one, the clients that were once walking the same road as you were beginning to thin out and disperse into buildings. You were now alone, or so you thought. Your head was lifted up from the ground and continued to walk the trail that appeared to be coming to an end. What you didn’t see was one last stare from afar burning onto you.

“Care to join me, pretty bird?”

Those words echoed through the empty road. You nearly halted in your tracks, turning your attention to the source of that echo. This was different from the other interactions you had heard previously; you were sure this time that this voice was directed at you. 

Your eyes finally fell on a man standing near a dimly lit alleyway; his feathery, long, ebony hued hair encaged his face as he leaned on the corner of the building. The dark gaze he held on you peered through the wisps of his hair and the vibrantly colored fan he kept over most of his face. You drew your head away from the man and continued your stride back home. You had already made the mistake of looking at him, being temporarily entranced by his alluring gaze, so it was best not to answer him. You may not have heard him speaking again, but you felt his eyes back on you once more. 

The walk out of the district was over soon; you still had over ten minutes left of your journey to complete before you finally reached your estate. However, the man you had encountered had lingered in your mind far longer than you liked to admit. Perhaps it was because you were intrigued by the idea of a man doing work like that, or perhaps it was because of the gaze he held with you and how you were ashamed to admit that it made your heart pause in the moment. He was quite the opulent man, the thought crossed your mind. You shook your head at the thought; you weren’t the type of person to engage in such activity with a random. Especially with someone with status such as yours. How would your family deal with you if they found out that their royal bloodline could have been potentially tainted by a district worker? 

The rest of the walk home was silent; you successfully managed to return to your room without anyone alerted of your presence. The thoughts you once had about the man you encountered were then pushed away as your empty stomach begged you for the food you had failed to acquire. It was then that you remembered that the next day you had promised your cousin that you would go shopping for jewels with her. Maybe then I can find a food vendor, you pondered to yourself as you felt your eyes drift into slumber.

Growing up with Hime made your childhood more bearable; Hime wasn’t like a best friend, but she was someone who served a valuable purpose to you. Unlike the other women of your class rank and your other cousins, Hime was someone who never seemed to be facetious even if it was just around you. No glaring after everything you said, no snickering behind your back, just a girl who wanted to share her life with you.

And that is what today was. 

Your voyages at night greatly differed from your day appearances. Expensive kimonos, extravagant eye makeup, and neatly tied hair went to cheap yukatas you secretly purchased and loosely tied strands of hair shielding your eyes. In the bright and early afternoon, the same street vendors you visited at night were making sales to common folk and the wealthy. You walked alongside your cousin as she went on and on about some topic that you couldn’t quite remember at the moment. Revisiting the same road you were once at last night made you think about the prostitute you encountered. His sharp, striking eyes making eye contact with you failed to escape your head. 

“Are you even listening to me, y/n?”

The sound of Hime’s voice cut through your thoughts like a blade.

“Ah- I apologize,” your startled voice stammered as you quickly turned your head over to her. 

Hime glanced over to you with a slight frown. “If I’m boring you out, just tell me…”

“No no, there’s no need for that- I mean, you’re fine. I was just distracted by something…” You trailed off. Hime sighed as you both stopped at a jewelry vendor.

Hime continued as she examined the various ear pieces displayed in front of you both, “What were you distracted by? Better be more interesting than me rejecting Hikaru for the fifth time…” She began to briefly speak with the merchant as she waited for you to explain. You couldn’t tell her that you’ve been sneaking out almost every night to get food, and you certainly couldn’t talk to her about the alluring prostitute you encountered last night. 

You cleared your throat, “Just… thinking about what’s for dinner tonight…” Thankfully, Hime was too invested into the jewelry she was examining for her to even question the validity of what you said. 

“Mhm…oh, yes! I think blue suits my skin tone quite well too!” Hime looked over to you and spoke, “You said you’re thinking about dinner? Would you care to join me tonight? I believe the menu tonight is being prepared by a foreign chef. I believe he is from an empire in the west. You might enjoy it!” 

“Actually, I’d quite enjoy that. I’ll be returning home with you then,” the idea of eating western cuisine, something you didn’t do often, enticed you. You spoke with a faint grin in anticipation. 

Hime had continued to speak to you about Hikaru, the man who had been trying for months to get her attention, while you assessed which jewel aesthetically complemented her the best. You had managed to get the man out of your head now, likely only because your cousin put another man into your head to think about. 

You glanced around the market place to assess the scene; commoners were the majority of the crowd present. Many families, adolescents, and lone figures were seen either selling their goods or purchasing others. You didn’t get much time to observe people since you were either cooped up in your estate or avoiding attention from others in your nightly escapades. Watching people in their most authentic state wasn’t an activity you got to practice very often; whether it would be within your family or at the various events you are required to attend, frequently you notice people putting on their best mask to appeal to others. However, with common folk, you could appreciate seeing them interact without thinking they are putting on a performance for others to believe.

Your gaze was beginning to return back to Hime until you caught the gaze of someone in the crowd. A man. A man was briefly watching you until he turned around and engaged with a vendor. His back was facing you now, but you felt an uncomfortable familiarity with him. You couldn’t recall the exact image of his face, but the vague glimpse you caught of his eyes were enough to send a shiver down your spine. Observing his back, you saw the grey striped yukata he wore with his black hair falling on his shoulders. It can’t be him, you thought to yourself as you watched him idly. 

You couldn’t even break your gaze off of him. He didn’t pose a threat to you or anyone in the area, so why are you worrying so hard?

“y/n~”

“y/n.”

“y/n!”

The sound of Hime calling out your name once more shook you back into reality. You flinched and glanced back down to her, muttering a quick apology.

“Is everything okay?” Her eyebrows furrowed up as her frown deepened. “You seem a little absent today…”

“I’m sorry, I just got distracted by a vendor over there. Uh, we should visit that one next!” The excuse you made up was enough to convince Hime, which was enough for you. You waited for a few more minutes so she could purchase her jewelry, checking your back every now and then to see if the man had looked over at you again. But yet, he was standing still, conversing with the same merchant.

It probably wasn’t him then, you sighed as you began to walk with Hime to search for another vendor. As you made your way down the street, you made conversation with her once again while your eyes scanned the crowd. When you passed him, your gaze made its way back to him for the final time. There he was, idly stationed, bargaining what seemed to be a yukata with the vendor. You sighed, perhaps this was all nothing, you managed to calm yourself down as you continued to walk with your oblivious cousin. Even if it was him, he would have never recognized me with this look, you assured yourself.

What you failed to realize, was that same burning stare from earlier came back to look at you one final time. 

The marketplace had called back to you just a few nights later. This time, you had made sure to sneak out earlier, so you could obtain Mrs. Ogura’s yakitori, among other goods from other vendors, before it ran out. The usual twenty minute walk was condensed with your enthusiasm and energy. 

Once you had set foot onto the main street, you bounced from vendor to vendor to acquire all of the treats you had daydreamed about since the last late night journey.  Though you had arrived at the busiest time of the night, you had managed to gather all of the treats your mouth had been salivating for. Even the fresh yakitori, which you were now eating as you made your way back home, was readily available for you to enjoy.

With the yakitori skewers in one hand and your woven basket in the other, you walked down the main road, more joyfully than usual, to prepare your journey home. It wasn’t until you ran upon the fork in the road once more. The quiet lane, the path you usually took to go home, was occupied by samurai policing the street. The halt in your steps came as quickly as the disappointment; walking down a road occupied by samurai was dangerous for you, the niece of a powerful shogun in the region. It appears that the altercation that took place many nights ago had prompted samurai presence in the area. You stared down the quiet lane before you groaned to yourself, spinning on the heel of your feet and making your way towards the district.

If the uphill road and the cheap, stiff getas you were wearing didn’t exist, perhaps you would’ve gotten home quicker. The street had gathered more clients than the previous night which made navigating up the road more challenging than it already had been. You struggled to keep your head held down due to you still feasting on the fresh yakitoris. You were down to your last skewer, making your way through most of the district. The drunk men on the street that stumbled their way into soaphouses were thinning out, leaving just you alone on the street - or so you had thought.

“I’ve missed you, pretty bird.”

The sound of the familiar, delicate voice of him. The unmistakable voice you had heard days ago. The sound of his voice did not startle you much despite the shiver it caused; if that, the sound made you walk at a quicker pace. It seemed to have been working, until you heard his strides follow behind you.

“Those cheap clothes don’t fool me.”

“I know who you are.”

The simplicity of his statement made you halt. You whipped your head back to face the prostitute, who now dropped his fan from his face. In the eyes, he resembled the same man you witnessed watching you briefly at the market. Of course that was the same man, your thoughts raced across your head. Your secret identity had been figured out so easily, by a man you’ve never talked to at that. 

All that could be heard in the street was your uneven breathing and the panic settling in. It seemed to be apparent to the man, as he slowly stepped closer to you, still maintaining his distance.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” The question slipped off his tongue like silk. The gaze his eyes carried was striking, but still held a level of softness to it that almost made you want to give up your guard around him. The softness in his eyes completely contrasted the faint, but mischievous grin he kept on his face. You stared at him and contemplated your next action. Lying was stupid; he was so sure of himself that it would take physical evidence for you to prove otherwise. Either way, his gaze almost seemed hypnotizing, like every action you did under his watch was under his command.

“Never fear, pretty bird. I mean no harm to you…” He took one gentle step closer to you with the same expression plastered on his face.

“Then how could I possibly be of service to you? I’m not interested in what you’re selling.” You managed to tell him, taking a small step back. “In fact, I was just on my way home.” You watched him cock his head to the left, intrigued by your resistance.

“You surely don’t act like it. There's got to be a reason we have met for the third time this week.” 

You gulped. As you were choosing what words to speak next, he had already beat you to it.

“You don’t think I don’t see the way you look at me?” A step closer. “Or that I see you’re starting to frequent this side of the city,” you avoided his stare on you as you felt your figure being scanned.

“It’s…it’s complicated,” you took a pause. “And frankly, none of your business.” 

And with that, you spun on your heels and began to walk away, hoping that would’ve been the last encounter you had with him. As you walked, you heard more footsteps behind you. This time, they seemed to grow heavier, like he was trying to catch up quickly.

“If you’re worried about me exposing your little secret, don’t,” he started suddenly, his tone coming across as more serious. 

“I’m not concerned with that.” 

You paused in your tracks again and turned around to face him. There he was with that smirk gone off of his face, showing a glimpse of vulnerability and empathy from a man you had just met. However, with his next statement, that vulnerability would be gone.

“However, I won’t lie and say it doesn’t intrigue me at all,” he eyed you up and down once more, his sly smirk returning fuller.

“I told you I’m not interested. I’m not sure why you’re still so stuck on me. Don’t you have other clients to attend to?” You took another step back which was followed by a subsequent step forward from the man. You didn’t feel fear around him, but rather you felt uncertainty brewing in your stomach. Uncertainty was brewed from your unfamiliarity with him and a secret, dwelling feeling that you couldn’t describe. 

Silence fell upon the man for a second before he smirked down at you. A step closer he took, staying nearly an arm’s distance away.

“It’s not uncommon for me to do services with wealthy men and women alike. But you…” you’ve never seen a stare so soft yet so intense. Perhaps it was the way he paused his sentence to read your face like an open book. Perhaps it was the way the mystery behind this man was almost enticing. 

“I’ve never met someone so resistant, yet so willing,” a silence fell upon you and him. You could feel your eyebrows furrow at the ridiculousness of his statement. Of course he was being delusional, you were everything but willing. Who did this guy think he was? Or perhaps you felt called out and read thoroughly. Regardless, the scoff you let out shortly after made him raise an eyebrow.

“Don’t flatter yourself too much. I’m only down here so I don’t get caught in those street patrols,” you nudged your head over to the direction of the quiet lane with the man’s head also following.

“Ah, you’re only visiting me because of that…” disappointedly he sighed before you opened his eyes back to you, a smirk returning to his face.

“But, still doesn’t explain why you’re still here talking to me. You could’ve just…left, yes?” You didn’t even have to look at him to see the smug expression he so pridefully carried. 

And with the final furrow of your eyebrow, you spun around again and stormed off away from him with a groan under your breath. This time, you didn’t hear him follow you, nor did you hear a call back to you.

“You’re delusional,” you told him one final time, already taking off.

What he couldn’t see was the rosy blush that crept up to your face or the brisk biting of your bottom lip. What you couldn’t see, however, was his menacing smirk growing heavier on his walk back down to his alley. 

You contemplated never sneaking out again; the quiet lane was occupied by samurai forces each night you went out, no matter what time of the day. Mrs. Ogura had told you that the altercation a few nights ago was between a now wanted man and an officer. If you couldn’t walk down the quiet lane then, you certainly couldn’t walk down now. Of course, this meant that your interactions with the man were almost inevitable. With every time you wanted to go get extra food so you didn’t fall asleep hungry, there was another appearance of him; or so, you assumed.

On your third interaction with him, you had told yourself to walk past him and to not give him the attention he wanted. In fact, you had rehearsed it in your head several times with each rehearsal resulting in you getting the last word.

Except when you actually walked past him again, you found yourself in the same predicament as before: stopped in the middle of the road and arguing with him. In the end, he got the last word. The last thing you remembered before you once again stormed off was the stupid, sly grin he always carried and his eyes piercing directly into you. 

That night, his eyes were all you thought about; you had never seen eyes like his before. A stare down like his made it increasingly uncomfortable for you to sleep at night. It was almost like he saw through you entirely. Such as the things inside of you that you were too scared to admit. But of course, you weren’t craving to see him again, you thought. It’s normal to think about someone at night when they keep finding you, right? 

And so the inevitable happened that night: he appeared in your dreams. Of course, it was normal to briefly imagine being suggestive scenarios with a sex worker you kept seeing on accident. Especially if he keeps insinuating such, what else could you do about that? Of course images of him hovered above you with his hair sticking to the sweat coating your face flashed in this dream, no, this nightmare that occurred. Of course, auditory hallucinations of him telling you how much of a good girl you were occurred. And of course, imagines of him completely nude and having you encased in his arms occurred. This was completely normal for you to imagine, of course, because he had been harassing you for some days now. It had nothing to do with any feeling you potentially held towards him, at least that is what you kept telling yourself.

Yet, despite everything, the following night, you went out again. Most of the vendors ran out of food and Mrs. Ogura ran out of her yakitori once again. However, you couldn’t recall feeling as upset as you did nearly a week ago. Annoyed and hungry? Yes, but it was probably because you didn’t feel like going outside that night. Yet, there you were, walking down the district path once more. 

You had walked down the path, almost reaching the end, until you paused your steps. The street was desolate and almost bleak. Turning around, you had seen only some older men stammering around and some women through the windows of the buildings. Instinctively, you had made your way down the road, glancing down every alleyway that you passed. It didn’t take long for you to finally reach the alley that the man usually resided in. In the middle of the road you then stood, aimlessly looking for that man. Naturally, you grew accustomed to his usual harassment and pestering. It wasn’t that you missed it, you were just thrown off by the lack of his voice and the absent feeling of being watched.

Your eyes then fell on a window above you. Inside the dimly lit room, a silhouette was vaguely visible. Despite that, you knew exactly what you were looking at: the silhouette of a man, the man, through the window. Vaguely, you could make out him putting his yukata back on his bare body and his hair flown down and resting on his shoulders. On the ground, a woman emerges from the building with her hair tangled and her own yukata being loose, as if she was just putting it back on.

When the woman walked away from you, your eyes trailed back up to the window. Unexpectedly, your eyes met his face, the man in the window. Despite the lack of light present outside and inside the building, you knew it was the same man from before. The man that had always tried to get your attention. You spun on your heels and resumed your trek home before you could meet his eyes or before he could have the chance to come outside to meet you. 

The rest of the walk home, a gut wrenching feeling resided within you. Suddenly, in that moment, you wished that Mrs. Ogura didn’t run out of yakitoris so that your usual night run wasn’t completely useless. The idea that your interactions with the man made somewhat of a positive impact on your night was simply untrue. You weren’t disappointed seeing him do his job as a prostitute with another person. You obviously knew how he made his money, that was never a secret to you; so why did your body react the way that it did? You were so sure that your gut wrenching feeling only lingered for so long because you had an empty stomach. Of course, it was your fault for not coming out earlier to grab the skewers. 

That night, you remained restless. It was because you were hungry, you thought. You continued to blame yourself for not visiting Mrs. Ogura earlier. You knew better than to sneak out nearly thirty minutes after your usual time. This has been the second time you returned home with an empty basket, yet, this feeling, this hunger, was far worse than the first.

For the next few days, you were content with falling asleep hungry. You didn’t sneak out as much as you did in the week prior. You convinced yourself that talking with that man again was bad for you, as everything he did, or didn’t do drove you insane. Perhaps it was time to acknowledge you began to enjoy his company, which was dangerous. You weren’t sexually attracted to him, no, you were just developing a platonic bond with him, which is normal for someone as isolated from the world as you.

It wasn’t until this night, where the idea of falling asleep hungry was unbearable. Having such a strict diet like yours was finally getting to you. Your sleep prolonged throughout the day and you were getting exhausted much quicker. You found yourself back at the market street again, standing in front of Mrs. Ogura’s stand, with another empty basket. Not even a yakitori from her; once again, you were too late. 

The walk up the district path was humiliating for you, even if no one else there was paying attention to you. The growl of your stomach combined with your tiredness made you come to an executive decision. Despite the risks, you decided to eat out in a restaurant, a place guaranteed to have food. You knew a place that was nearby; however, it was quicker to reach there by walking through the district. 

Towards the end of the path, you came to realize that the man was nowhere to be found. Saves myself from the embarrassment, you thought as the memories of you nearly encountering him naked after a session with a client came into your head. However, you couldn’t help but feel an unsettling feeling fester in your stomach, like this was all an unfortunate thing. Nonsense, you thought to yourself, you should be glad that you’re alone right now.

It was almost like you had spoken too soon.

“Long time, no see, pretty bird.”

The familiar whisper brushed up against your ear from behind. Suddenly, you were hyperaware of your surroundings; the man had been walking behind you, attempting to catch up to you just so he could mess with you by whispering up against your ear. You would never admit it, but his attempt in making you flustered worked. Though, you wouldn’t have to verbally admit anything, because the cover of your mouth with your free hand and your surprised face being red following your sharp turn to face him was already enough to make him tease you.

“Awe, did I scare you?” His voice was sweet and comforting, yet it carried an underlying vexatious tone. 

“Wha- what are you doing?!” You stuttered, dropping your hand from your mouth. You felt your tense shoulders drop finally, a sigh escaping your mouth.

You finally caught a look at his face. He looked like he wasn’t currently working as all of his excess makeup was absent from his eyes. The colorful yukatas he once championed were replaced with the dull, cheap yukatas that the general population wore. His hair encased his dark, olive-toned face, just like in the first time you met him. The same sly look on his face was still present; you just knew he enjoyed the sight of you flustered at any given moment, and that bothered you.

“I’m not working today. If anything, I was preparing to go home. But then, I saw you turn on this road.” He stepped closer to you, placing his hand on your shoulder. “If you missed me so badly, you should’ve said something earlier…” You immediately brushed his hand off of your shoulder and sneered at him.

“It’s not about you, I was just searching for food at the market down there…” 

“I see then. Is that what you do every time I see you?” He gave a quick glance down at your empty basket. 

“Doesn’t seem to be successful everytime.” 

You heard him chuckle at you; your eyes rolled at his teasing before you spun around and began to walk without him. Expectedly, you heard him catch up to you, now walking with you side by side.

“Are you returning home now?” You heard the curiosity in his voice. You decided to not answer him, hoping he would finally leave after he gets bored of you. You continued the walk uphill with the man lingering with you. You could feel his gaze scan all over you again, perhaps trying to read you. You kept your head low, so you wouldn’t have to give him that satisfaction of him seeing you submissive and nervous because of him. 

“If you don’t respond, I’ll just follow you back to your estate. I don’t think your family will enjoy you bringing home a pro-”

“I’ll give you whatever you want if you promise you’ll leave me alone after!” You, normally timid and a pushover, finally snapped. It was like he knew exactly how to get under your skin, and you hated that. You paused in the middle of the road and stared up at him. Watching down at you, you saw his smirk widen at your outburst. It was like he found enjoyment in nearly everything you did, even if it was you showing genuine distaste for him.

“Anything, you say?” The suggestive tone in his voice indicated something far from what you were considering. With your face flushed an even darker maroon, you responded.

“I’m not going to ask for one of your services!” You scolded him. “I was considering taking you out to dinner… only because I’m getting ready to go eat dinner myself!”

The only thing you heard after that was the deep, almost sinister sounding, chuckle emerging from his voice. You glanced up at him, witnessing the most amusement you’ve ever seen on his face thus far. 

“Lead the way then, pretty bird.”

In all of your years of being royalty, never have you used your notoriety or wealth to get something you wanted. If anything, you found that it was only degenerates who did such a thing. You’ve witnessed it done by family members, normally to escape small legal disputes they accidentally found themselves in. You vowed to yourself to never engage in activity such as that, under any circumstance.

That was until you found yourself slamming a large sum of cash on the zataku in a restaurant's private room. The host quickly took the money from you and left you alone with the man. As the door slid shut, you immediately felt a sense of guilt.

“You’re serious about not being caught with me, aren’t you?” The man's voice almost seemed to linger with shame as he stared at you from across the table. The room wasn’t so small that it was suffocating, but the room felt smaller knowing that the man you sat across from hasn’t seemed to leave your mind since your first meeting. 

Returning his eye contact meant that you suddenly felt bad for making him feel that way. Yes, you paid excessive cash so you, a person with much notoriety, wouldn’t be caught with him. However, despite how badly he bothered you, you didn’t want to make him feel like he was at fault here. He was likely trying to tease you once again, but you couldn’t shake the guilt that you felt in you.

“It’s not because of you, it’s because of me,” you paused for a moment, debating on what words you should choose next.

“I-I can’t be caught with anyone who isn’t family or below me in status. It’s not in my control,” you bowed your head slightly, almost as if you were apologizing. 

A silence fell upon the table until you heard him pouring oolong tea into both of your cups. You knew he was staring at you again. Was it out of frustration? Was he sad? Actually, why did you care? Of course it’s only because you’re just an empathetic person. It would be more concerning if you didn’t show any concern or care for his feelings.

Hesitantly, you brought up your gaze from your lap and brought it to his face. This was the first time you had seen him so calm and peaceful, like he wasn’t the same man who found pleasure from driving you insane. The tea cup slid across the table and landed in front of you which was followed by his signature chuckle. 

“Relax, pretty bird, I was just teasing…” The trail off in voice, the weak smile he tried to portray, the solemn sip he took from his cup; he appeared much differently now. You didn’t believe that he truly felt unaffected by all of this, but you decided to drop it for now, muttering a small thank you instead.

The next minute was spent in silence, with the exception of the sound of the both of you drinking or attempting to cool down the tea. You snuck glances up at him, trying to gauge what he was currently thinking, or what if he was planning to strike up a conversation with you. Surprisingly, he seemed to be occupying his own business, stirring his tea occasionally. 

“Is there something the pretty bird wants to know?” He didn’t move his contact from the tea cup, but you knew he had caught you staring at him. Your throat cleared, as if his question caught you off guard. 

“Well…I guess I have one- or two, actually,” you paused.

“Maybe three…”

You heard his laugh echo in the confined space, like his normal demeanor returned back to him. His hands dropped to rest on his lap, leaning in closer to the table. Was his yukata always this loose? The black cotton fabric was vaguely draped over his chest. You ashamedly took a glance down at his exposed, bare chest; his breast muscles contracted with every breath he took under his olive skin glistening in the overhead lantern. Fuck, he’s no different than the dream, you ashamedly thought to yourself. With everything breath, the hem of the cotton teased you, like it wanted you to reach out and strip him bare.

A silent curse in your head was issued by you immediately after explicitly imagining that perverse thought about him. You returned his eye contact and prayed that he didn’t catch you fantasizing about his body. Even if you wanted to continue, his voice cut through your thoughts.

“Seonghwa.”

Your eyebrow raised instinctively, not expecting him to blurt out something so random. 

“I-excuse me?”

“You were wondering what my name was, I’m assuming? If you weren't, at least now you know my name.” 

The way he delivered his response was cocky and arrogant; but, he read your mind like it was his. In your head, he had always been referred to as “The Man” or “that one prostitute that won’t leave me alone”. However, you wanted to give him the respect he required, such as knowing his name.

“...yes. You’re right,” you took a pause to process his name. “Seonghwa”, you unintentionally repeated under your breath.

Your eyes met his again, “You’re not from around here, are you? I’ve never heard that name before.”

“I’m from Korea. I’ve been here since my early adolescence. I hardly remember the language anymore,” he spoke after he took a meek sip of his tea. Your eyes caught his grip on the cup; with every muscle contraction, his veins in his hand bulged. It was distracting. You didn’t know what had gotten into you. For the 2nd time tonight, you were ogling at his body while he was doing mundane tasks. You silently cursed yourself again, drawing your eyes away from his hands.

“I like it when you say my name, y/n.”

If you were drinking your tea, which you almost thought of doing to wash down your dirty thoughts, you would’ve nearly choked on it. Normally, you would’ve just rolled your eyes at his suggestive comments, but ever since you saw him through that window, dressing his nude body, and when you had that dream about him, you weren’t acting like yourself. Perhaps you were just going through a biological phase of some sort, something you couldn’t explain. 

Even though he knew your name for quite some time, as it was public knowledge, hearing him say your name for the first time gave you an odd sense of comfort. Apparently, he had felt the same way when you said his name. You had tried to ignore his comment, and you tried to show that you weren’t flustered by it, even if the color of your face and your tense posture showed otherwise.

“Uh-anyways, I also wanted to ask, why are you protecting my identity? You do understand, that there are people who would be joyful to know that a family member of a shogun is roaming the Red-light district, right?” A pause.

“Some people find great pleasure in tearing someone with so much power down.”

 There was a silence amongst you two again. The smirk on his face having faded and being replaced with a hesitant lip bite, like he was preparing to share something vulnerable or grave. Putting down his cup, he started.

“Ah, that is a valid question to ask,” he kept his eyes trained on you, not in a sly or suggestive manner, but like he was debating on opening up to you. You maintained eye contact, but inside, you wondered if you had asked him a question that had required him to share more than he wanted. Or worse, he was contemplating on actually exposing you.

“I apologize, you don’t have to answer th-”

“Many people place their own assumptions about me because of what I do.”

His voice suddenly interrupted yours, his serious tone making a return. When he wasn’t behaving mischievously and giving you that delinquent smirk, his permissive gaze that he always carried became more evident. You gave him a small nod, waiting for him to continue.

“I also assume that many people place judgement and assumptions on you as well,” he glanced up at you, searching for confirmation to his claim.

“Yes, you would be right.”

He continued, “I don’t want to be treated differently because of my status or my job, and I also assume you wouldn’t want to be either, right?” You gave him another nod.

“It is as simple as that,” he leaned in closer over the table, making it harder for you to avoid his eye contact.

“You may act otherwise towards me, but I can feel that you’re not a part of the crowd who looks down on me. You don’t think I’m an annoying pest; but, you do think I am an annoying human,” in typical Seonghwa fashion, he couldn’t finish a serious statement without delivering a joke, even if it was just to humor himself. Surprisingly for him, showing in eyebrows, this got a brief chuckle from you as well, which eased some of the preexisting tension in you. 

“You may irritate me, but I don’t despise you with all my being. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here right now,” you spoke honestly, still maintaining your guard. It seemed that Seonghwa found your statement humorous, with him only responding with a laugh. 

The rim of your tea cup returned to your lips as you thought about the last question you had planned to ask him. Initially, you had felt comfortable with the idea of you interrogating him about odd behavior: Why did he flirt so intensively, even when he wasn’t working? Why you, out of everyone he could’ve asked? You were afraid to open Pandora’s Box, nervous about what the answer could be.

You need to be honest with yourself. You were growing attached to Seonghwa; not the same platonic attachment you described earlier, but rather something more, something greater that you couldn’t describe. Or a feeling you were too afraid to describe.

Worst of all, you couldn’t tell if he reciprocated. Which is why you hesitated to ask him your final question. You wanted him, and after days of verbally denying it, you were too scared to even speak up and mention it. Besides, you were so sure that he had encountered people like this before. People that developed an attachment towards a worker giving them the services they are being paid to do. Except, you aren’t his customer, you’re just a woman he occasionally pesters with when he gets the chance. 

You were probably the only one who was dreaming and fantasizing about the other. After all, you both had just finished a vulnerable conversation about empathy and trust. He would think you’re disgusting for having such perverse thoughts about him still. Your eyebrows furrowed just a tinge, bringing your lips back to your tea. Seonghwa must have noticed your off behavior, because he had spoken up.

“Is there a third question from me that you wanted to ask? I know you mentioned something about that,” unwavering, he held the gaze that you previously broke with him. You couldn’t tell if he was completely oblivious to your demeanor or if he was just teasing you again, which drove you insane. 

Before you could even answer or make up an excuse, the door to the private room opened. Bowls of noodle soups, platters of meat, and cups of rice were dispersed on your table. You thanked the worker, mentally, for coming with the food at the right time. There remained a silence between the both of you as you both watched the plates of food compile on the table. It wasn’t long until the worker had left, leaving you, Seonghwa, and the aroma of the food lingering.

Without paying any mind to his question, you unravelled your chopsticks and began eating the bowl in front of you. In your peripheral, you had watched Seonghwa slowly reach for his own bowl before he began to eat, like he wanted to say something else to you. For a moment, you had been glad to enjoy your meal and avoid the uncomfortable question you had wanted to ask him for the past week. 

But you forgot that “uncomfortable questions” don’t exist with Seonghwa.

“The last question you had for me? Were you going to mention anything about that?” He questioned you again after eating a generous portion of his food. 

“Ah- no, it…left my mind. Can’t remember,” you were a horrible liar, and Seonghwa seemed to have learned that just now. The burning stare came back and burned holes into your bowed head. You tried your best to behave like there was no issue that was vexing you, but Seonghwa wasn’t stupid. He could pick up on these things, likely better than you could. 

“I think you’re lying to me, pretty bird.”

That damned nickname came back in his vocabulary. You were initially able to just shake off that name like it didn’t mean anything. But with your recent acceptance of your feelings towards Seonghwa, a name as simple as pretty bird suddenly carried weight. Suddenly, you understood the power he had over you, and you didn’t like that.

You continued to eat your food, nearing the end of your noodle soup. You figured that if you had just continued to play dumb, then maybe, just maybe, there was a slim chance of Seonghwa giving up on interrogating you. Or, if you were super lucky, he could believe you completely, which you doubted. Regardless, you’d rather take that risk than open up.

“I really don’t remember, I got distracted by the food coming here…haha,” your little pretend joke barely made Seonghwa’s lips budge. Instead, the stare in his eyes narrowed in on you intensely. There was a brief silence, the aroma of the food vaguely masking the tension in the air, before you heard Seonghwa’s sigh breaking the silence.

“Is that so?”

You nodded your head, continuing to eat your food.

He paused.

“I suppose I should speak more about myself then. Maybe the question will come back in that pretty head of yours.”

Another pause; this time with you. You tried not to let your nerves show; even the most basic of compliments could suddenly make you go weak, and that was dangerous. So you resumed your eating, hoping the conversation continued smoothly.

You didn’t know how wrong you could be.

He took a breath.

“I saw you looking at me through the window.”

You halted your body, a small gasp vaguely escaping you. You didn’t have to look at him to know that his devilish smirk returned to his face. It was laced all in his speech; you had no reason to look back up at him to check if you were right. You paused before you placed your bowl down on the table, keeping your head bowed. While you were frantically searching for the right response, with your clammy palms and your quickened heart beat. 

“I suppose you didn’t know that I was watching you too, did you?” Of course this would happen. It was dark outside that night, and the room he was in was even darker. You could only interpret his silhouette, not his face or any other details. But of course, it would’ve been easier for him to see you in the maroon red lights that highlighted the entire street. 

You wanted to come up with an excuse, but they were all so pathetic and lackluster. He didn’t believe you then, and he surely wouldn’t believe you now. You were just going to have to admit that you were ogling his body after pretending to hate his attention for so long.

“I- I apologize for that. I shouldn’t have invaded your priva-”

“Oh, pretty bird, I’m not asking you to apologize.”

A pause.

“Look at me, I want to see your face.”

You hesitated to show him your face, but you complied. Your face rose up slowly, finally reaching eye contact with Seonghwa. His stare was intense. And it made you uncomfortable. But you liked it; in fact, you didn’t feel any inclination to look away from him. Like you were hypnotized, and you couldn’t do a single thing about it. Your palms, however, stayed glued to your lap, hoping he didn’t notice.

Seonghwa enjoyed watching you crumble over a simple order he gave. You could see it in his posture, how he leaned forward, resting his jaw in his hand. Or how he carried that damned cocky grin you hated even greater on his face. He had gotten you to behave like a walking ball of nerves after having you act so resistant to him a week ago; and God, was he getting a high off of it.

“Does anything I'm saying ring any bells for you yet?”

You shook your head. Another lie.

He continued, “You probably think that you’re hard to read. That I don’t understand what your true, most pure intentions are with me.”

He looked you up and down, feeling a sense of control over you and the conversation. You, unfortunately, couldn’t feel the same; he was unravelling you piece by piece, exposing every aspect about you that you had tried to keep hidden.

“You probably think that I don’t see you eyeing my body up and down. Or that I don’t see how all of the sudden, your demeanor changed around me. Acting so shy and timid around me”

You felt his eyes zoom in on each one of your features, “I love it when the words I say make you squirm on your lap like that. Or how red I can make your face without even having to touch you.”

You hadn’t even realized that all of your seemingly small behavior shifts were that noticeable by him. He saw every change in you. Almost on instinct, your legs uncomfortably shifted together again. Fuck, the way he read you made you damp, yearning for him. You maintained eye contact with him as you spoke up.

“So what’s your point?” Your meek voice attempted to taunt him. You watched the color of his face blush pink near his eyes, followed by him biting his own lip like he was holding back a maniacal smirk.

“I want you to ask me the last question you had for me. I want to know if I guessed right.”

He patiently waited for you to finally reveal what you had wanted to ask him all dinner, his finger tapping on the zataku at a steady rhythm. Whether it was because of his taunting voice, his exposed chest, his eyes holding the most graceful, yet most daunting stare, or the veins in his hands bulging, you were starting to lose your self control.

You figured you had nothing to lose at this point. Lying was pointless when he already knew nearly everything about you already. Yet, the fear that lingered within you made you excited, like you wanted to be perceived as a permissive, naive woman who was oblivious to her effect on him. You were so far gone, but you couldn’t care much anymore.

“Why me?” You began, “What makes me different from your regular customers that would make you want to come eat dinner with me?” 

Finally, the weight of pretending had been released from you. You watched Seonghwa’s smirk progressively grow into a menacing chuckle. This was the question he was looking for, you were sure of it.

“Why you?” his tone dimmed, washing over the devilish look on his face. 

“You’re difficult.”

You bite your lip, as if you were begging him to continue. Seeming like he heard your thoughts, you watched him pause his statement before he sat up and, to your surprise, walked over to you. He slowly knelt down beside you while you remained still.

“You want my attention. Even if you don’t act like it. I always know.”

“Because it’s written all over your face.”

A pause.

“You know, it’s not common for me to crave someone's attention so badly. I want your attention too, pretty bird.”

The palm of his hand raised from his side and hovered over your cheek.

“May I?”

Hesitantly, your full body shifted to face him, giving him permission to touch you. His cool palm, softly landed on your cheek with the heat from your flushed face warming his hands instantly. He leaned in, the opposite hand being placed firmly on the table beside you. He scanned you thoroughly, his eyes raking up and down your body several times. The only thing heard in the room now was the subtle panting above you. 

“Pretty bird…do I really need to explain to you why I want to fuck you?” The breathless tone in his voice escaped him, like he was pleading to you, needing you. 

With every inch he closed between you two, you retreated, eventually landing your back against the wall. He had had you cornered now, his free hand off from the table and firmly rested beside your head on the wall. The desperation in his face was a stark contrast to the persona he initially played into. The maroon cheeks, the burning stare onto your lips, and the slight tremble in his voice; his true feelings and intentions were manifest. 

His thumb dragged along your face before landing on the center of your lips, circling the bottom of your lip sensually. He continued, “I think about you when I’m with my clients. Fuck, I do it all the time. Especially on the nights when you come down the district.”

His knee slowly pushed your legs apart, “Stop me if you don’t want this”, his mouth dropped down to whisper into your ear, earning you a softly pressed kiss below your ear. He returned to look down at your face, staring at you intently while his knee continued to travel up your inner thighs. He stopped his knee at your entrance, letting it hover. 

This was wrong, you thought to yourself. Anyone could hear us. Or walk in. 

Despite your concerns, all you could focus on was Seonghwa’s body towering over you with his yukata drawn loose at his chest. Your eyes flickered up and down, from his eyes down back to his chest, and back again. He had barely touched you, but he already had your legs trembling and your breath shaky. When your eyes finally decided to keep eye contact with him, you instinctively bit your lip and his thumb that was lazily drawing circles. The soft hitch caught in his voice didn’t last long before he hesitantly inserted his thumb into your mouth. 

“Are you sure you want to do this here?” You could hear the self-control in him failing with every passing moment. He began to retract his finger from your mouth to give you a chance to respond, but your hand flew up to his arm to stop him; the muscle was flexed underneath your hands. You gently sucked on his finger and lathered it with your tongue, and with this action he understood your answer.

Before you could blink, his thumb deepened into your mouth. The grip you had on his arm tightened, earning a soft moan from you. Your other hand rose up and rested on his bare clavicle. The sly smirk he once wore now returned. He watched your face as his finger in your mouth played with your salivating tongue. 

“That night when I caught those pretty eyes of yours staring at me through the window,” he released his finger from your mouth slowly, letting the salvia that soaked his thumb drip on the floor beside you, “The same eyes you’re giving me right now,” you watched his face zoom in closer to your, feeling the desire in his breath against your mouth. He popped his soaked thumb in his mouth to taste you before this hand returned to cradle your face.

He continued: “I want those eyes on me while I touch you, okay? Can you do that for me, pretty bird?” He stared into you before he glanced back down at your lips. You muttered a quick yes under your breath, your head nodding at a desperate speed.

Before you could even say anything else, he inched away from you and pulled you down by your legs. You yelped as you fell on your back and onto the padded floor. Your legs wrapped over his shoulders, his hands aiding the process. The yukata that once modestly covered your body was now pooled at your hips. 

As Seonghwa’s gaze dragged over your bare legs, with his hands delicately running across your thighs and up to your ankles. The warmth that radiated from his palms sent shivers down your entire body. You watched him through half-lidded eyes as his hands massaged your legs, going down to your inner thigh. The only thing heard in the room was the soft whimpering you had tried to suppress from outside ears. 

“You’re already getting this noisy for me. I didn’t know you could be so responsive,” his finger trailed down your thigh once more before he reached the pooled yukata that vaguely covered your wet entrance. The further his finger travelled, the more your body throbbed for his touch. His hand reached higher and leisurely undid the tied yukata around your waist. All you could do was watch as he teased you so slowly, knowing you were craving for him to touch and please you already, your impatient shifting apparent throughout.

“I bet you’re already so ready for me. Shall I check?” He pressed a soft kiss to your calf before he zoomed in onto your inner thighs. His hand brushed away the loose cloth away from your heat, exposing your wet, throbbing core. 

He took his fingers and pressed them against you, rubbing circles across the lips. Your legs squirmed over his shoulders, a moan echoing in the room with the sound of your slick being played. He licked his own lips as he watched you struggle against his gentle touch. 

“Shh…shh…don’t be too loud,” his assuring, velvet voice spoke out to you as he slowed his pace down, “bite down on something for me,” he used his free hand to bring the collar of your yukata up to your mouth. Eagerly, you took the cloth into your mouth, both of your hands gripping the cloth with your teeth. 

Almost instantly, he quickened the pace of his fingers circling your labia. His free hand trailed down from your collar and slid underneath the cotton. His hands made their way to your breasts, giving a generous squeeze to the cup. He had complete control over your body, while all you could do was lay on your back and let him fondle you. The whimpers in your voice had gotten louder when you rolled your hips to the rhythm of his slick fingers. 

“You’re doing so good. Being such an obedient girl for me,” his voice purred. He teased a finger in between your folds, maintaining eye contact with you. 

“Mmpfh- Seonghwa, I need you,” you released your teeth from the cloth momentarily to beg, “Please, please just make me cum.” The speed of the tip of his finger quickened gradually as you continued to squirm and whimper under his touch. 

Seonghwa, who was getting off at the sight of you obediently and pathetically submitting to him, freed a moan from his lips. He dragged the hand on your breasts over to your nipples, the fingers lazily fondling the soft tissue.

His mischievous grin returned, “You better keep those pretty eyes on me at all times then. Okay?” His finger titillatingly flicked your clit faster as he waited for a verbal response from you. It was evil; just a few days ago you were so confident that he was just a bothersome man who developed an unreciprocated infatuation with you. Now, he had you moaning on the floor and teasing you.

“Please- Seonghwa, I’m being good for you,” you had no shame in your begging; your eyes glistened with tears as his finger continued to play with your clit.

“Awe, my pretty bird wants me to do more?” Perhaps it was the tears in your eyes that prompted him to stop teasing you and finally begin to stick his middle finger knuckle deep inside you. Your teeth clamped back down on your clothes as he started to stroke your pussy. 

The damp noises of his finger fucking you in the room could almost make Seonghwa salivate like a dog; there you were, hair sprawled out on the padded floor, your yukata dishelved and loosely hanging onto you, and the sight of tears falling down the sides of your face because of his fingers stimulating your body. His smile was maniacal. This is exactly how he wanted you, after all of those days he yearned over your attention. 

“You have no idea how gorgeous you look right now,” he pumped another finger into you as he quickened the pace of his strokes while his other hand on your breast roughly massaged with him occasionally pinching your nipple.

Your legs stiffened around his shoulders as you maintained eye contact with Seonghwa through your glossy eyes. You stuffed more fabric into your mouth to muffle the volume of your moans that increasingly grew louder with each of his strokes. Despite the eye contact you tried to maintain, your tears were clouding your vision. Your vision was only worsened when Seonghwa added a third finger; the tremble of your legs was felt by the both of you.

“Ah ah, I don’t want you to cum just yet,” you didn’t need your vision to know that his maniacal grin returned on his face. He stilled all three of his fingers deep in you while his free hand reached up to your face, his finger tenderly wiping away stray tears. 

“Please, Seonghwa, please, I’m so close-” he interrupted your pleading with his finger trailing down your face, landing over your lips.

“But y/n, you must not understand how beautiful you look under me right now. I just want to keep you like this forever…” he spoke in such a gentle purr. If it wasn’t for you nearly being folded in half with him knuckle-deep into you, you’d be swooned and serenaded by the soft-spoken tone in his voice.

“Do you really want me to make you cum?” He asked teasingly, his fingers moving away from your mouth and back down to your body. You rapidly, desperately nodded; but Seonghwa shook his head.

“Use your words, pretty bird. I want to hear what you want,” His effect on you made you look so pathetic, but you didn’t even care; this was exactly what you had dreamed about with him.

“Please, make me cum, Seonghwa…” You softly plead spoken under your breath, your imploring eyes searching his proud ones for any hint of approval. His eyebrow raised, as if he wasn’t fully convinced yet.

“Seonghwa…please,” He eventually chuckled at your final plea, his hand on your chest making its way back to your nipple.

“Since you used your words, I’ll make those lips sing,” Seonghwa didn’t give you time to respond; his fingers immediately began to pump in you quicker than before. The soft massages on your breasts turned into his hand kneading them. What once was a room only filled with sounds of your pussy being pumped by his fingers was now a room filled with sounds of your moaning croaking out from between your lips. 

Seonghwa had noticed that your yukata that you had bit down on to keep quiet was absent from your mouth, “Come on, pretty bird, don’t be too loud,” despite his warning, it seemed that he had been aroused by the idea of you being loud when you’re supposed to be quiet for him; the louder you got, the harder and faster he went. 

Your legs trembled on his shoulders, and your back arched from the ground; Seonghwa didn’t need you to tell him what you were about to do. Every twitch and shake in your body told him that you were about to cum.

“That’s right, cum on me,” Seonghwa’s delicate voice assured you. With your orgasm vibrating into the cloth in your mouth, you finished on him. You threw your head back onto the padded floor, feeling your trembling legs being pampered with kisses that felt like silk against skin. 

“You did amazing,” Seonghwa carefully placed your legs down on the floor before he crawled above you, resting himself on top of your stomach with his legs straddling your body. On one hand, his fingers were dripping in your cum; with his free hand, he took your chin and turned your head back so he could continue observing you. 

His soft, yet proud gaze scanned your entire face; your face was wetted by your tears and your hair was sticking to the tears that trickled down your neck. His clean hand wiped a free tear from your face again before it returned back down to your mouth, his thumb brushing against.

“Open wide for me,” you obeyed his command, watching his grin grow as your lips parted further. Without any warning, his cum-soiled fingers plunged into your mouth. Your tongue lathered his fingers as Seonghwa leaned down over you. The warmth of his breath was felt with every inch he closed between you. Beside your head, his other hand was planted on the ground, closing you in once again.

Your eyes locked with his before Seonghwa’s stare fell down to your lips, “Let me taste you,” Seonghwa removed his fingers from your tongue, letting his lips connect with yours gently. You melted into the kiss, your hands rising to cup his silk-like face. You couldn’t get enough of the sweet flavor that exuded from his lips; along with the soft texture of his lips on yours, you were disappointed to feel him pull back from the kiss, even if it was just to observe you once again.

“You taste so good, pretty bird,” his head dipped into the crook of your neck, deliberately placing wet kisses under your jaw, travelling down to your collarbone. His hands reached back down to your yukata, slipping through the fabric once more. 

“I wish I could eat you right now, but I need to finish up quickly,” he rose up from your neck and pressed another kiss on your lips, this time slower, deeper. Every inch of skin on your bare abdomen was being massaged by the graceful touch of his palms. With every moan from you that he felt through the kiss, and with every touch felt by your hands entangled in his hair, the hungrier the kiss became.

His hand trailed down your body again before it reached your labia. His fingers began circling over the region again; the present sound of the wet lips echoing in the room almost made Seonghwa weak, his moan vaguely being heard.

“You’re still ready for me. That’s good,” he broke the kiss as he sat back up, looking down at you while his hands undid the cloth wrapped around him. He let his yukata hang freely open, his cock springing out. 

The precum oozed from him, running down his length in anticipation. God, you couldn’t get your eyes off of his curve, and he loved that. You cursed under your breath, your salivating mouth unable to form phrases. He then came back down to kiss you softly on the nose, before trailing the kisses back down to your neck. All the while, his tip was knocking at your entrance door. You felt it grazing your folds, increasingly teasing you as he continued to suck on your neck.

“Ngh, Se-Seonghwa…” your fragile voice managed to escape, “I need more than your tip.” Your hands that pushed the yukata from off his shoulders begged him to do more to you.

“Ah ah, you’re being too eager. I need you to ask for it nicer,” his head rose to your ear, whispering his command gently. He leaned away from you, cocking his eyebrow up smugly as he saw the desperation in your eyes. His cock remained at your folds with every twitch causing you to throb harder. 

“Please, Seonghwa. Please just fuck me again,” you laid there begging pathetically and so desperate for him. Yet, he didn’t move at all. He just stood over you, his bare chest on full display, watching you beg.

As if he was testing you, his cock teasingly inched into you, earning him a desperate, but sinful sound leaving your quivering lips. You knew that he enjoyed watching you squirm around on the ground at his will; with every whimper he heard and with every desperate look he saw in your eyes, you could feel the remote throbbing of his member inside you, like the lust he had for you traversed through the veins that ran up and down his length.  

He stared down at you for a moment more, like he was enjoying the effect he continued to have on you. Then suddenly, his hands placed themselves on either side of your hips while his body was perched over yours. 

“Fuck, I can’t resist you,” was the last thing that muttered from his mouth before his cock disappeared into your cunt. The suddenness almost caught you off guard. You almost disobeyed him and screamed his name, however, you managed to bite down hard on your lips with your pathetic whimpers replacing what would’ve been a sinful scream.

His cock rested inside of you momentarily, allowing you to regain some composure. His hands, with a gentle yet firm grip, lifted your hips from the ground slightly. The warm air that filled the room crashed against your lifted lower back. Seonghwa panted like a dog in anticipation at the sight of his cock stuffed into your pussy. With the smirk of a deviant, he gave you one last knowing glance down at you.

“Remember to be quiet”

Following the order he gave in his rough, aroused voice, he started his thrusts slowly, allowing you to adjust to his size. Despite the slow tempo, he made sure to fill you up with as much of his cock as possible. You were doing well with managing him and remaining quiet, outside of a few whimpers that hummed in between your lips. Seonghwa knew this too; he was greedy, and he wanted to push you to your limits. He kept a malevolent smirk on his face that only grew more as his thrusts continued, like he was thinking of all of the fun he could have from witnessing you pathetically try to handle him without making a noise. 

His gentle grip no longer, he continued to thrust into you at a noticeably faster rate. The sound of his skin slapping against your pussy, the sight of his cock disappearing and reappearing from your body, and the sight of his long hair sticking to his temples was nearly enough to make you cum already. The tears you let out before returned to cry out in the sheer pain you experienced from biting down on your tongue so hard just so you couldn’t scream his name. 

But damn, did it feel titillating

Your hands fell down to your breast, stimulating the feeling of him sucking on your nipples earlier. You knew it would make it harder for you to control your volume, but you loved the danger. And so did Seonghwa. 

Your quivering legs on either side of him, your tight folds clenching around his length, and his flushed face that traded with the smugness he carried earlier; this was exactly what Seonghwa wanted to experience with you. No more nights of him imagining you as his clients. Just the real you, half naked on the floor with his throbbing length fucking you.

 Just as he anticipated, your moans managed to slip through your lips; it grew harder for you to control your volume.

“S-Se-Seonghwa,” you whined shakily, “Can’t stay q-quiet”. 

He abruptly stopped, keeping himself inside you. He looked tauntingly disappointed in you. Of course, he knew this would happen. His body slightly leaned over yours, with his facial features becoming condescending and the grip on your hips softening. 

He sighed, “Ah ah, pretty bird. I won’t let you finish until you stay quiet,” one of his hands left your hips and teasingly drew down to your folds, letting his ring finger fondle with them while he rested inside you. Even the slight tease with his fingers was enough to force you to bite down on your clothing. 

Your teary, desperate eyes met his. The vague smile on his face showed you that he was enjoying every second of your squirming and whining. Seonghwa watched you struggle to silently keep eye contact with him despite the fondling not ceasing. He just watched you, once again, pathetically try not to whine at his touch.

“You’re so beautiful like this, being obedient to me.”

The endless teasing didn’t stop even when he noticed your precum developing a small pool around him. In fact, it made him continue with another finger. The pain in your tongue and teeth resurfaced again as you bit down harder on your yukata.

A considerable amount of time passed as he continued the slow fondling. Your legs were still tensely still around his body, but the room became quieter. You continued to lay there silently in agony, anticipating for him to continue pleasuring you. His sudden chuckle left you in relief as his hand retreated back to your hip. 

“You’re a good listener. Perhaps I shall award you for your good behavior,” he gradually restarted his thrust into you as he continued the praise. 

“You’re doing so good, pretty bird,” he repeated his assortment of praises as he gradually pounded you. Your teeth clenched down fiercely on your finger wrapped in the yukata that was once in your mouth while your eyes began to swell in tears once again. The sound of skin contact was louder than before; surely, someone had to have heard such a sinful sound coming from their room.

Regardless, you both knew he was on the verge of cumming. The usual smugness of Seonghwa’s face on his thrown back head was replaced with his mouth agape. The sweat that resided on his temples were now dripping down his olive skin. His bare chest glistened under the lights. The hair that rested on his broad shoulders were stuck to the sweat that emitted from his neck. With the arch of your back and your trembling legs on either side of him, you knew you didn’t have much longer left.

“Open your mouth,” he moaned desperately, his cock twitching in you. Both of you were losing composure; the more Seonghwa softly moaned, the tighter the already tense grip on your hip became. Finally, he whipped out his cock as soon as the cum oozed out of him and slapped the tip on your lips. Simultaneously, your orgasm vibrated throughout the room, allowing his cum to trickle down your throat. 

You swallowed his fluid before you both laid down on the padded floor, hefty  breathing from both of your half naked bodies. He laid on top of you, still like a lifeless body. You both kept each other’s sweaty bodies wrapped in each other's arms. After basking in the comfort of each other's embrace, Seonghwa elevated himself above you, either hand on each side of your head. He glanced down at you, wiping away the tears that ran down your face. 

There was a peaceful silence that lingered amongst the room until he muttered, “You did better than I expected. I’m pleasantly surprised you managed to stay so quiet,” you rolled your eyes at his claim, brushing more tears off.

“Oh please, you think too low of me,” you gave him a grin, “I’m not that stubborn.”

Seonghwa inched away from your face and adjusted his head down at your sore folds. His tongue gently cleaned them, unsurprisingly making you squirm in pleasure. Before he rose from in between your legs, he gave the lips a final graze of his tongue as he retreated back to your face. He pressed his lips to yours, letting you taste yourself once more. Both of your lips tiredly and sloppily meshed together, with your hands returning back to entangle his hair, and his hands cradling either side of your flushed face. Seonghwa finally pulled away, his tired, yet euphoric, gaze studying the gratified expression you held.

“Ah, I suppose you’re right,” he jokingly pondered, “In fact, you gave yourself up to me quite quickly. Earlier, you had almost convinced me that you really didn’t want anything to do with me.” 

You groaned, pushing his face away from yours in playful irritation. Sitting up from where you laid, you fixed up your yukata, tying it around you once more. Your hands vaguely ran through your hair in its attempt to fix it.

“One day I’ll have to tame that stubbornness in you,” Seonghwa stood up to adjust his clothes, back now facing towards you. The muscles you had just memorized with your hand were now concealed by his yukata. 

You briefly paused; one day? He believes there will be another time after this? I mean, of course you wanted that as well. It was just that you were just assuming that what took place during dinner was just a one time thing. Your heart skipped a beat before you shook your head, discontinuing your wishful thinking.

When he noticed your lack of response, he turned his body and knelt down beside you. The vulnerable look on his face made a reappearance; your eyes avoided his face, but you knew that his eyes were glued on your solemn expression as you raked your hands through your tangled hair. 

“That is, if you want there to be a next time?” he paused, “I would like for you to come visit me again, in a less public area, that is,” his hand reached up to a loose strand of hair hovered over your face before it halted, like he was asking for permission before touching you again. 

“I-...well,” you turned your head to face him. It was evident from his furrowed eyebrows and slight frown that he looked disappointed at the possibility of not seeing you again.

“Yes, I would actually like for there to be a next time,” the hesitation was noticeable in your voice initially until you scanned his face for a positive reaction. It didn’t take long until Seonghwa’s hand finally brushed the hair from your face. 

“Good,” Seonghwa looked you up and down with his free thumb dragging across your lower lip once more, “Are you sure that’s what you want? You hesitated to answer,” His thumb slowed down against lips before Seonghwa turned his attention back to your eyes.

“I just wasn’t entirely sure if you wanted this again. I’m glad you do, but I just didn’t expect you to want it this much,” you embarrassingly confessed to him. You heard him chuckle, his thumb suddenly beginning to soothe your lower lip once more. The hair that hovered around Seonghwa’s face tickled your cheeks as he leaned in.

“y/n,” he began, “I wanted, needed, your attention for a reason,” Seonghwa’s lips connected with yours in a passionate exchange before he pulled away, his breath being felt on your face.

“You’re quite the intriguing person. And there is still so much about you that I crave to learn about.”

That sentence alone was enough to convince you. Maybe someone of royalty shouldn’t develop an infatuation with a person of a different class, but there was an excitement you had from sneaking out at night. A mutual fixation forming between the both of you, a sex worker and royalty, who were equally forbidden from developing any form of relationship with each other, was a dangerous game that you both were willing to play.

“Then, shall I visit you in a few nights-”

“Tomorrow.”

His voice interrupted yours suddenly. For a moment, a flicker of seriousness displayed on his face before the gentle yet menacing smile you were used to seeing grew. His hand trailed down your sleeve slowly before landing on your thigh. 

“I would like to see you again tomorrow, if your schedule allows it,” he gave your leg a gentle squeeze as he patiently awaited your response. You initially were thrown off by the sudden request from him, so you stilled yourself on the floor without emitting a single sound except for a giggle.

“Well then, I better see you at your alley again,” you promised him with a smirk on your face. Seonghwa stared back at you before he chuckled. He stood up from where he was sitting, towering over your frame. 

A hand from his side reached down to your head, tilting your head up to view him. The malevolence in his tone seemed to have run away. The gentle, unassuming expression returned to his face like nothing had happened. As if he didn’t just make you swallow his own cum. He allowed himself to check out your disheveled appearance, admiring his work he did on you. He finally locked eyes with yours one final time before he last spoke:

“Next time, I’ll make sure to make that voice sing louder, pretty bird.”

٠࣪⭑ a/n ╰┈➤ Lordddd this done took me so long to write lol im so sorry (╥﹏╥). I've been dealing with college exams this past week so I hope I didn't write horrible here.... anyways, the ateez drabbles should be out as well, so go read that as well! Hope you all enjoyed, lmk if there are any mistakes!! ₍^. .^₎⟆

[lilhwahwa]

Screaming crying throwing up (pls happy ending but dramatic body, please drama but happy ending thanks) ((only if u want)) (((pls)))

[lilhwahwa]

I want to open up writing requests. Maybe smaller prompts etc if anyone has any, drop them in my inbox. Any member ❤️

[lilhwahwa]

Heyy do you do tarot for ateez?

Haven’t tried that sadly:)

[lilhwahwa]

Why does the fact that it was Jongho that bought tickets to that brutal nude play not surprise me

[redscharms]

My lovelies!

We're in a difficult situation at the moment and I'm coming here to ask for your help. If possible please reblog to help me reach a bigger audience.

We're helping the kittens in our area and we're currently running extremely low on funds because recently there were many kittens that were born with very poor immune systems and almost all of them were hospitalised. It really drained our funds.

Few of them unfortunately did not survive despite extensive medical care but the others not only got better, they also found loving homes.

I am opening personal readings for anyone interested to collect funds for these little babies. Hospitalisations cost €40/night and the kittens stay for at least a week each of them.

If you're not interested in a reading, please consider reblogging this post to help me reach the ones who may be interested ♥️ your help means a lot!

The reading is listed as "Why do you feel so connected to this person? K-Pop edition" and costs €26 but you can ask any question you want: https://ko-fi.com/c/0336b1351d

All the money will go into paying the vet bills.

Thank you!

[lilhwahwa]

Welp was gonna do exchange now but see person just blocked me… okay then

[lilhwahwa]

omg i just read heart swindler and its soooo good 😭 like damn you’re such a talender writer!! i hope we can get an update soon 🙏🏻

Omg really… I thought people all forgot about it😭

[lilhwahwa]

To the anon who sent me the ask. Thank you 🖤🖤

[lilhwahwa]

Looking to exchange with someone ❤️

[pinayelf-archive]

rice u will always be famous to me, I love u in every form...

add a rice from ur culture if u would like..

[lilhwahwa]

I don’t even like coffee - 𝐊.𝐇𝐉

MASTERLIST

Hongjoong’s eyes were focused on the notebook in front of him. He scribbled down various words in his messy handwriting before erasing them, finding the rhymes inadequate for the melody he had in mind. What a sight it was. Hongjoong with his sharp brows furrowed in concentration, tongue peeking out from the corner of his full lips. He looked so comfortable in his oversized jacket and matching beanie as his hand blindly searched for, the now 2nd, half full cup of coffee.

You, of course, were sat in front of him, sipping the now cold coffee that Hongjoong had insisted on buying for you. In fact how could he not when the reason you had bonded so well in the first place was because of the coffee shop down the street from his company building. You both came here to buy something warm on that one rainy autumn day. You with your coffee-addicted friend, and Hongjoong alone. Anyway, Hongjoong saw it as a must in your friendship, it was his way of showing he cherishes you and your time. 

“How is it going?” you ask with a quiet voice, not wanting to disturb his thoughts in case he had a spurt of motivation right this moment. 

Hongjoong glances up at you. The dimming lights of the coffee shop lit up his eyes softly, making them sparkle as if somebody had put shining stars in them. The boy across from you shrugged his shoulders and leaned forward for you to hear him better as he voiced the words he had written down. He stuttered over some, replacing them on the spot as he judged them to be more fitting for this song. 

Your cheek blushed at the closeness between you two. The warm air didn’t make it easier to cool down your flushed cheeks as Hongjoong mumbled out the words of his new rap, additionally humming the melody to remember the tone. You closed your eyes and imagined that just maybe one day, he’d mumble those words to you as you sit much closer to him, perhaps curled up against his side. Or maybe, he could sing them to you as you fell asleep in his arms. But that was silly, right?

“Y/N?” Hongjoong snapped his fingers to gain your attention. “You there?” he chuckled and greeted you with a smile as you entered reality. You nodded quickly. 

“What’s up?” you sat up straighter, ready to listen to any new lyric suggestions he had and praise him for the progress. 

“I was going to get more coffee, if you still would like to stay I could get you another cup?” Hongjoong stood up with his credit card in hand, ready to leave as soon as you gave him your word. You opened your mouth to protest but he beat you to it.

“My treat, I insist. As a fellow coffee lover it’s my pleasure to get you your drink” he smiled with that familiar smile and you felt like you were hypnotised by him. You hated that he kept spending his money on your drinks. But you were too selfishly swooned by him to deny your heart any separation from him. 

With a sigh you nodded slowly. “Alright, last one” you pointed your finger at him playfully as he turned around to leave. 

The way his eyes narrowed when he looked over the menu even though he already knew what he was getting, made your heart clench pathetically. It was such a small gesture, were you really that affected by him? 

Guess so, because here you are sipping your 3rd cup of coffee which to be honest, you didn’t even find to be of your liking, but it’s worth it if it meant you’d get to watch and spend time with Hongjoong.

[yundeob]

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!”

Eunseo 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 an ironic idea 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 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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[lilhwahwa]

˚₊✩‧₊your future spouse’s first impression౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ -

I enjoyed reading for people so much last time so I wanted to open another little free reading opportunity! I want to give these readings for free to celebrate opening a tarot account @by-jupiter

info:

Short readings on what your future spouse’s first impression of you will be like!

rules:

follow @by-jupiter and send the ask to that account!

add your initials

add “🧡”

[lilhwahwa]

Hi first of all thankyou so much for the ask reply

I was not expecting it to be so detailed but I was so happy as U spent Ur time and hardwork in it .THANKYOU SO MUCH and yes the exams R very important and I really really worked hard but sinnce I was giving 12 it was very tough

Thankyou ❤️

Hi! Thank you for the feedback! I really think it’ll work out for you but damn were those exams hard. Even in the readings. People might have cheated a lot too… I really hope it works out ❤️❤️

[lilhwahwa]

welp