#[sir... the whip cream...]

[wildsaltair]

and??? what if I loved you with all my heart every single day?? then what huh???

[theevenprivaterblog]

THE COUNCIL OF IDIOTS MENTION IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 2025⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️

[sir-thisisadndserver]

Sir if you’re going to eye-fuck me this hard AT LEAST TAKE ME OUT TO DINNER FIRST!!!!!

Marvel H Christ why is he so gorgeous

@giftober 2024 | DAY 13: The Olympics ➛ Hugh Jackman as Bronson Peary in Eddie the Eagle (2015) dir. Dexter Fletcher

[bunnyinvanilla]

Sugar daddy!price x fem!reader (bar owner series)

🎂 warnings: suggestive at the end, minors dni please, laaaarge age gap (price is in his 40s and reader is 21) <3

if price found out you haven’t been eating since breakfast this morning and are currently starving, he’d be mad. Not at you, but for you. so, like a sweet, good little girl that wished not to burden him with concern, you rush behind the counter, to the back storage room next to his office — a quick snack, that’s what you’re going to indulge into.

your hands carefully dig into your backpack, and as you take out the piece of strawberry shortcake you bought on the way back from college, you make a little hop on the spot — barely able to contain excitement.

your fingers work hastily to remove the paper and plastic from the box, and the scent of sweet, sugary whipped cream and strawberries fill your nose. You smile to yourself as you gather some whipped cream with your finger and bring it your lips.

you scarcely contain a silent moan when the sugar melts in your mouth like a cloud of sweetness, as if heaven itself decided to reveal its secrets.

“gosh it’s so good” you murmur, bringing another whitened finger to your lips, mouth already half filled with the previous bite.

“oh you are indeed”

you startle in your own tracks when you hear the low, deep voice from behind you, like a little bunny getting caught feasting on a farmer’s carrot land.

turning towards the door, you find john, his imposing, muscular figure looking down at you with his signature lazy, amused smirk. Your eyes fall on his flannel shirt, the first buttons are languidly left untied, allowing you a stolen glance of his hairy chest, his pectorals that make your mouth water as much as the long forgotten piece of cake in your hands.

dumbfounded, you blink up at him twice, swallowing down the remaining mushy cake you stopped chewing on upon seeing him. Your cheeks grow red, sunrise reflecting on them with how bright and warm they look.

“Sir, uhm…i was, i was-“ you struggle to compose yourself, lowering your hands as he slowly begins to strade over you, the familiar scent of cologne and tobacco mingling with your vanilla perfume.

“hungry? can see that, angel,” he whispers, clearly entertained by your shyness. A lazy, seductive smile appears on his visage like a natural decor, one you’ve never seen him not wearing since meeting you.

once he’s close enough to tower over you, his graying, dark beard catches your attention, his mustache and salt and pepper hair, the way the muscles of his hairy forearms bulge with every move, everything about him screams strong masculinity, control and dominance.

he lifts up a hand towards your face, and you hold your breath as he uses his calloused thumb to wipe some whipped cream off the corner of your glossed lips. He brings the digit to his own mouth, licking the cream off his finger — the sight makes the pit of your stomach twist, a warm knot tightens in your belly and roots all the way down between your thighs.

you have to slowly place the cake down on a nearby surface otherwise you’d make it drop.

he licks his mustache, his sharp, intense eyes fleck to you, studying silently and carefully every single reaction he could get and read off you, “it does taste good though doll, you’re right,”

his voice deepens, a baritone that sounds gruff and heavy, and you involuntarily hide your hands behind your back, gently holding onto the edge od the table. With a slow, deliberate movement, he brings his licked finger down, underneath your skirt, and presses it against your clothed clit.

as if a spark shot through you, you almost squeak, a muffled whimper leaves your lips, an unfamiliar sound that your own ears don’t recognize. He keeps his eyes on you, lid and thin, as he slowly brushes it over your panties,

“but I’m sure when I finally get a taste of you, you’ll taste even sweeter” his words sound like a growl, an impatient promise.

he knows you’re a sweet, young, inexperienced, untouched girl, and as much as he was a gentleman, as much as he wanted to handle you cautiously, like a porcelain doll that could break in a heartbeat and needed the best care and attention, he almost took you right there when you gave him those doe, shy eyes.

“I know you’re impatient, sweet girl, but daddy will make it worth the wait”, he thinks you deserve more that a stolen moment in the midst of the chaos, of a working day, and he knows you want him to be rough, to be hard on you. “let daddy take you out to dinner tonight, and then you can give this old man some sugar, mmh?”

you can only nod, words stuck in your throat unable to come out, but your eyes gleam in the softest and most innocent way, you don’t know if you want to drop to your knees, and beg him to do whatever he wanted, or to grab your piece of cake back and hide behind the counter.

bunnies were shy creatures, eager for affection, love and attention but timid when under their owners’ loving gaze. If you weren’t careful, they might just hop away and hide shyly.

..but a little bunny like you needs to be trained into being the perfect, sweetest good girl first. And he is a man of discipline, he knows how to wait.

[zorosangell]

⛥ﾟ・。 pocus

synopsis: when you're a no-show for your scheduled merienda, katakuri begins to worry. little does he know you're right in the middle of a Big Mom hunger pang, and she seems to be craving your specialty...

cw: fluff, comfort, angst if you squint, katakuri is katakuri, katakuri DOES NOT PLAY ABT YOU, you have six children together, you're relative to his height, you're a baker.

a/n: i know katakuri's not part of my usual content but i'm rewatching wci and i'm inspired sue me <3 besides the man is FIONE

"Patissiers!"

"Yes, sir! We're on our way!" the patissiers bellowed, running at full speed with their large doughnut cart in tow. "We come with your treat for the day!"

Shifting his weight on his legs, the Sweet Commander crossed his arms over his broad chest, watching intently as the small men scurried toward him, the three of them a dark blue blur against the checkered pink of Brûlée's Mirro-World.

"Our selection today is truly special! Lady (y/n) said so herself!"

"I think you'll find it most appropriate!"

"For a man as perfect as you, each treat is made from the perfect ingredients!"

The first one hoisted a huge chocolate-frosted doughnut over his head, beaming proudly.

"We purchased the finest Corioli cacao we could find on the black market and combined it with milk from a cow grazed on a Sky Island whose life was free from stress and woe! The resulting chocolate is rich and ideal to dollop atop this giant doughnut!"

The second one lifted up a chocolate doughnut with strawberry cream, smiling widely.

"And for this one, we whipped the highest grade cream, which we received fresh from the great Minister Opera himself. The icing is meticulously decorated and topped with a strawberry to make this masterpiece a feast for the eyes, before it becomes entombed within your grateful belly!"

The third one raised a yellow doughnut, topped with decadent powdered sugar, slightly wobbling.

"We also prepared a doughnut topped with a sugar favored by Celestial Dragons, which brings out the spiciness of the Meylon Cinnamon baked into its dough, along with this and that and the other thing, too, of course!"

Together they twirled, utterly elated by the fine work you curated.

"And it is all thanks to Lady (y/n)'s unparalleled baking prowess! It is a true honor and privilege to work alongside her in the kitchen! So please enjoy this sublime sweetness!"

But, sadly, Katakuri had completely tuned them out.

Their entire explanation went completely unheard, the Sweet Commander more concerned with your absence than anything else.

Brows furrowing, his eyes quickly flicked around the cart, failing to sense your presence anywhere remotely nearby.

'(y/n)...'

It was routine that you join him for his merienda's everyday, rain or shine.

The patissiers would roll you in along with his ginormous bushel of doughnuts, your smile blinding as you greeted and joined him inside his mochi shrine.

There, you would feed him your sweet treats and whisper sweet nothings as he recounted his day to you, and you yours, resting in each other's embrace as you relished the little time together you two were able to make within your busy lives.

It was the only time of the day the man looked forward to.

And it was being tampered with.

"Where is she?"

His voice was like a wave of ice extinguishing any sort of jovial mood the chefs had established, replace their joy with potent fear.

Instantly, a frigid shiver rolled down their spines, their little bodies going rigid with terror.

"W-Well, you see—!"

"We are sworn to secrecy by the Lady herself!"

"She ordered us to remain silent about her whereabouts as not to disrupt your merienda!"

"We—!"

Abruptly lunging forward, Katakuri yolked up the first chef by the collar of his uniform, the man letting out a fearful yelp as the Sweet Commander pulled him closer with a deadly glare.

He allowed his Conqueror's haki to flow freely from his body, blanketing the entire space under an immense and overwhelming pressure—so much so that it knocked the other two chefs out cold.

His tone was deadly serious, and leaving no room for argument.

"Where. Is. My. Wife?"

"Mocha, honey, keep stirring that curd!" you instructed, frantically, as you added the yeast to the second batch of doughnut scald. "Don't stop 'til it's nice and fluffy!"

"Yes, mama!" your young daughter nodded, expression determined as she fervently mixed the large vat of lemon filling, despite the growing weakness in her arms.

She had been stirring vigorously for the past thirty minutes straight, and there was only so much an eight year-old girl could take.

"We're running out of time!" Soda exclaimed, worried, as he peeked out the window, the rumblings coming from outside shaking the foundation of your large bakery. "Grandma's gonna be here any second!"

"We're working as fast as we can!" Cocoa grunted, finally finishing the third batch of dough.

"I don't understand!" Latte squealed, running to assist her little sister in stirring the curd.

"She was all the way on the north side five minutes ago! How did she get here so fast?!" Frappe added, following after.

"Anything's possible for your grandmother when it comes to dessert," you huffed, finishing up the fourth batch of dough. "I've learned that the hard way."

"Well, we're losing ground fast! Daifuku just got sent flying!" Chai exclaimed, his little eyes wide with horror as he watched his uncle soar through three buildings.

"That's it. I gotta go help," Soda quickly turned, storming toward the door.

"Absolutely not!" you shut down, instantly. "Nothing can stop your grandmother during one of her hunger pangs! You'd be needlessly putting yourself in danger!"

"I have to do something! I'm a minister!"

Soda was your firstborn son, the eldest of your six children and the pride and joy of the Big Mom pirates.

He was a prodigy, his power already nearing that of a Sweet Commander at the young age of twenty-one—he happened across the Fizz-Fizz fruit at a very young age, turning himself into a Carbonation-Man

With a bounty of 850 million, he was powerful enough to be asked out on his own solo missions, as well as join his countless aunts and uncles on their expeditions.

And to put the icing on the cake, he had set the record for youngest minister, having been appointed as the Minister of Fizz two years prior.

Your son was progressing in leaps and bounds, his dream of taking after his father coming to fruition more and more with each passing day.

But... where he took after Katakuri in prowess, he also took after him in his all-encompassing sense of duty.

"Stay here! Keep working on the doughnut!" he exclaimed, rushing out of the bakery. "I'll try and slow her down!"

"Soda!"

"Big brother!"

But he was already gone, leaping into the air to assist Smoothie.

"Mama, mama! The curd is finished!" Mocha reported, running over to tug at your dress.

"Good job, honey," you nodded, patting her on the head. "All right, kids, this is the moment of truth! Your brother's buying us some time so we've gotta hurry!"

"Right!"

"Chai, go get the other two batches of dough out the chiller!"

He nodded, quickly running to the back to go retrieve it.

"Latte! Frappe! Start combining the dough we have out here!"

The twins rushed toward the large bowls, already starting to dump them out onto the flour-covered counter.

"Mocha, go make sure the fryers are hot, then come back and help your brother combine the first batch!"

"You got it, mama!"

She turned and sprinted to the back room, running as fast as her little legs would carry her.

"Cocoa, you're with me! We're gonna finish up the glaze you started earlier!"

"Got it!" Cocoa nodded, running over to the bowl of half-finished glaze she had set aside.

"(y/n)!" Brûlée frantically exclaimed, popping her head out of a mirror in the kitchen. "It's getting bad! Mama's heading right this way!"

"I know! I know! We're moving as fast as we can!" you huffed, frantically stirring the second bowl of glaze.

"Well, it's not fast enough! Mont-d'Or wants to know how much longer this is going to take! This whole island is about to get leveled!"

"If Mama gets a mediocre doughnut then this island really will get leveled!" you scoffed, brows furrowed. "This is my specialty! Just let me handle this and everything'll be—"

"MAMA! GRANDMA'S HERE!" Mocha shrieked, trembling with terror as she stared out the window.

The Yonko's footfalls began to thoroughly shake the bakery, knocking over sacks of flour, breaking tables, and completely destroying shelves.

"No! It's too soon!" you gasped, quickly putting down the bowl and rushing toward the door. "Cocoa, take over! You know what to do!"

"Wha—?! Mom!"

"Don't stop working!"

Frantically, you burst out of the bakery, eyes wide to see that Big Mom was—in fact—right at your doorstep.

"I WANT MY DOUGHNUT! BRING ME MY LEMON DOUGHNUT NOW!"

"Mama!" you shouted, protectively extending your arms out in front of your beloved bakery. "Your doughnut is almost ready! Just give us a little bit more time!"

"WHERE IS MY DOUGHNUT, GIRL! BECAUSE ALL I WANT IS MY DOUGHNUT!"

"We're making it as fast as we can! We just need a few more minutes to get it just right! You have my word!"

"Mom, no!" Soda called, eyes wide with fear as he watched from a distance. "Get out of the way!"

"(y/n), forget it! It's no use!" Smoothie exclaimed. "Run!"

"No! I will not let her destroy everything we've worked for!"

"OUT OF MY WAY!"

In an instant, you were encompassed by an ominous aura, the feeling not at all foreign as you had witnessed the power countless times before.

'Soul Pocus...'

"IS IT LIFE?! OR TREAT?!"

"NO!" Soda shouted, about to rush toward you before Oven and Smoothie grabbed him up, holding him back.

"Not life or treat!" Opera winced.

"She's gonna steal her lifespan away!" Galette cried

"Mama, you can't! She's family! You'll get your dessert soon enough, just hold on!" Mont-d'Or attempted to reason.

"Mama, have mercy!" Smoothie exclaimed.

Brows furrowing, you stood strong, not budging an inch as she stared you down.

"I'm sorry, Mama! But it's just not ready yet!" you stated, cooly.

"Oh, you're gonna be sorry!" she bellowed, her glare intensifying. "I SAID... LIFE OR TREAT!"

Now, on any other day—where it was just you and your troop of bakers—you would have certainly had your soul ripped right out, the fear of your mother-in-law too great to fight off.

But this day was different.

This day... your children were thrown into the mix.

If Big Mom killed you before they finished the doughnut, then they would certainly be slaughtered right alongside.

And with your husband away on the outermost islands of Totto Land, and Soda held back by his uncles, there was no one else left to protect them in that outcome.

So... it didn't matter if it was Kaido, or Big Mom, or whoever.

You were willing to fight off all the emperors at once if it meant keeping your babies safe.

Your brows furrowed, all your fear seeming to dissipate into nothing, molding itself in the shape of pure, unwavering determination.

She wouldn't lay a finger on your children.

Not if you had anything to say about it.

Lunging forward, she attempted to grab your soul, but was thoroughly shocked to find that nothing had appeared in her grasp.

Your soul was perfectly intact.

"Your grandchildren are working diligently to bring the doughnut to perfection! If you could only wait just a little while longer!"

"Not necessary!" a familiar voice cut through the tense air, putting you at ease almost instantly.

"Look! Up there!"

"It can't be!"

"But it is!"

"It's...! It's...!"

"IT'S KATAKURI!"

As he soared through the air—humongous doughnut in hand—everyone watched with awe and relief, your husband a marvel to watch as he valiantly swooped in to save the day.

"Mama! Open wide!"

Using his Mochi-Mochi power, he launched his hand forward, harshly shoving the decadent doughnut into his mother's mouth, effectively halting her Soul Pocus.

For a moment... there was a pause.

The entirety of Whole Cake Island stood still, waiting with bated breath for Big Mom's reaction.

"Mama mama! How delicious! This is the best doughnut I've ever tasted!"

Together, everyone let out a unanimous sigh of relief, some even falling out on the floor.

"Mama is successfully subdued! I repeat! Mama is successfully subdued!" Mont-d'Or announced into his transponder snail. "Let's switch gears toward repairing damage. Toot sweet!"

"Lady (y/n) did it!"

"The island is saved!"

"That's our (y/n) for you!"

"Perfect as ever!"

"Oh, thank, God," you exhaled, breathless, as Big Mom's aura finally released you, allowing your legs to buckle.

"(y/n)!" Katakuri quickly landed next to you, catching your limp body before you could fall. "Are you all right?! What happened?!"

"Your mother happened," you sighed, allowing your head to drop against his chest. "One of her hunger pangs."

His eyes widened, a future where things could've gone very wrong flashing through his mind.

"And you didn't call me? I told you to make me aware when a situation like this occurs," he asked, tone rising—more out of fear of what could've been than actual frustration.

"It was time for your merienda... and you've been working so hard lately," you muttered. "I thought you deserved a break from all this."

"Not when it comes to your safety... or the children's," he shook his head. "You all are my utmost priority. More than my merienda."

Realizing your miscalculation, your cheeks warmed, suddenly feeling foolish.

"Sorry, Kuri," you sighed, allowing yourself to melt into his touch. "I dropped the ball, didn't I?"

At the nickname, Katakuri flushed under his scarf, eyes averting from your adorably apologetic expression before he turned even more red.

"I'm just glad you're all right," he caved, all will to chide effectively oozing from his body. "Rest for now."

"Mom!" Soda exclaimed running toward you both. "Are you all right?! That was insane! I've never seen anyone withstand Soul Pocus before!"

You scoffed, shaking your head.

"I assure you, I wouldn't be able to do that again in a million years."

"Soda, ensure your sisters and Chai are all right. Then send for cleanup within a bakery," Katakuri ordered, starting off in the opposite direction. "Assist Mont-d'Or in heading the repair efforts. I'm leaving this mess in your hands."

"You got it!" he nodded, turning around to join the Minister of Cheese in his work.

"Wait... Kuri, I have to help, too," you started, attempting to sit up.

"You have done enough," he denied, tightening his hold on you. "They can take things from here."

"But—"

"No buts... You'll be joining me for the rest of the day."

Confused, you raised a brow, unsure of what he was talking about.

"Joining you? ...For what?"

Knowingly, he glanced down at you, heart pounding against his chest once again at the sight of your perfect face.

How he got so lucky, he would never know.

"We still have time for our merienda. If... you're all right with cold tea?"

Warmed by his shy kindness, you were unable to fight the smile rising to your lips, his ears burning with embarrassment in the adorable way you loved.

He was cute when he wasn't acting all tough.

"Iced tea's perfect... Lead the way."

[greengoblinswifey]

You need Cody right after a match.

a/n— My first Cody blurb, I need him so bad, had to whip this up rq.

Your boyfriend Cody, spent the entire day rehearsing his match and promos. You stood at ringside, watching on as his muscles flexed each time he moved. He was so fucking hot, and you couldn’t help but admire him. You needed him, but was in his element, you couldn’t distract him.

By the time Raw had began airing, he was out cutting a promo, the fans just as wild as you. Except, something else was wild for him. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you watched him pace in the ring, his neck tattoo you craved to lick on full display.

When the bell rang, he immediately got the upper hand, dishing out punishment on his opponent. Punishment you craved for your pussy. Maybe it was your ovulation—whatever it was, it had you feeling like you’d die without his dick inside you.

Cody won the match and the referee held his arm up in victory. Your core throbbed in anticipation as he made his way to the back, his steps deliberate. As soon as the door to the room opened, you pounced on him, your lips all over his face and lips.

“Baby, what’s gotten into you? I’m all sweaty,” Cody muttered into your kisses.

“I don’t care, I need you. Sweat and all, let it drip all over me, I don’t care, just fuck me. Please,” you pleaded.

His eyes darkened at your words, he could practically smell you dripping for him. “So fucking desperate for me, I’ll give you what you want.”

And that’s exactly what he did.

Cody had you bent over a chair, his gear ripped off by you and his hard cock buried inside you. Your panties were ripped and he slammed into you from behind, his cock stretching you out. You hoped the distant cheering from the fans masked your loud moans as he absolutely ravished you.

“This is what you wanted? Huh? To get fucked like a slut?”

You nodded frantically, your pussy clenching tightly around his cock as he angled into you even deeper. If it wasn’t for his grip on your curls, you would’ve toppled over.

He slapped your ass and you cried out. “Y-yes sir! This is what I wanted.”

You knew he was smirking behind you and in your last act of boldness, you pushed back against him, fucking yourself on his cock.

“That’s a good girl. You should see how your pussy’s just creaming on my dick.”

His words sent a ripple through you and your body convulsed, an intense orgasm hitting you like a truck.

“Good fucking girl,” he murmured, but he wasn’t finished with you.

He lifted and carried you to the couch in the corner of the room. A cry left your lips as he sank into your pussy once again, immediately finding your sweet spot. You drooled as he hovered over you—Cody was a greek god, one you would be happy to worship every single day. The sweat made his muscles glisten and he wrapped a large hand around your neck, making your pussy twitch in excitement.

Your body jolted as he slammed into your pussy and his grip around your neck tightened. “You feel so fucking good. So tight, so wet, fucking perfect for me.

You held his dark gaze, wrapped your arms around his neck and grinding against him, meeting his thrusts. His sweat dripping all over you made you moan and you reached up, licking the tattoo on his neck.

“My dirty fucking girl,” he said, darkly.

One of his hands pressed against your abdomen, making you moan so loud, you knew anyone passing by would hear. “Feel how deep I am inside you? Only my cock can get that far. I fucking own you.”

“You own me,” you echoed, your nails now digging into his back.

“Cum on my cock, cum with me.”

With a loud cry, you squirted on his cock, soaking both him and the couch as he continued to pound into your aching pussy.

“Fucking hell, what a good girl just squirting for me like that.”

His orgasm followed immediately after and he pushed deep inside you, his cum filling your ovulating womb to the brim.

He leaned down and whispered in your ear, his thrusts slower and deeper. “I’m gonna get you fucking pregnant.”

[seospicybin]

TOO CROWDED.

Lee Know x reader. (s,f)

Chapters: Wrong crowd / In the crowd / Crowded

Synopsis: Years of marriage haven’t fully prepared Minho for the arrival of a new family member or the changes that come with his growing family. As he navigates these new challenges, he realizes that love and family are constantly evolving in ways he never expected. (19,3k words)

Author's note: To the Crowd enthusiasts, thank you for patiently waiting & hope you enjoy this one too ♡

It’s Saturday, yet Minho wakes up early as usual, his internal clock refusing to let him sleep past 5:30 a.m.

The first thing he does is shift closer to your side of the bed, slipping his arm around you and gently pulling you into his embrace. His lips press a soft kiss to your cheek, careful not to wake you. You deserve more sleep. For a moment, he enjoys the warmth of your body against his, spooning you, before placing another kiss on your bare shoulder and quietly slipping out of bed.

Next, he pads across the hall to your daughter’s room, slowly pushing the door open. Peeking inside, he smiles when he sees Byeol still fast asleep, clutching her blanket tightly. The sight of her peaceful face always fills him with a deep sense of contentment—knowing she feels safe and loved. He brushes a gentle hand over her cheek, then quietly leaves, letting her sleep a little longer.

Minho heads downstairs to the kitchen. As the coffee brews, he washes up, brushes his teeth, and makes his way to the rooftop to water the potted plants. Returning to the kitchen, he pours himself a cup of coffee and settles at the dining table, handling bills and a few business emails.

By 7:00 a.m., he’s pulling ingredients from the fridge to prepare breakfast, not forgetting to pack a lunchbox for Byeol. Halfway through stirring pancake batter, he catches sight of you wandering into the kitchen, your hair a tousled mess and a sleepy smile on your lips.

"Morning," you mumble, slipping your arms around his waist from behind, pressing your face against his back. You cling to him for a while as he works over the stove, only moving to kiss his cheek before grabbing his mug and refilling it with more coffee for yourself.

Minho glances at the clock, then at you. "Enjoying your coffee?"

"Mmhmm," you murmur, savoring the warm drink.

"Can you go wake up our daughter?" he asks, focused on flipping a pancake.

"I thought we're cool parents," You groan playfully, holding your mug. "It’s Saturday. Let her sleep!"

"Today’s the school trip." He reminds you.

"Oh, shit!" you grumble, setting down your coffee. You tie your robe and shoot him a quick grin. "Wish me luck!"

Minho smiles as you head to Byeol’s room, knowing it won’t be hard to wake her. She’s been talking about the trip all week, and sure enough, it takes you less than five minutes to have her running to the kitchen for breakfast.

"Here’s your delinquent daughter, sir," you joke, pulling out a chair for her.

Minho places the last pancake on the growing stack. He brings the plate over to the table, feigning seriousness as he addresses Byeol. "Young lady, you’re sentenced to live with us until you're of age and eat all these pancakes without any maple syrup or strawberries."

Byeol doesn’t even blink at her father’s odd sense of humor. She knows exactly what it means: they’re out of her favorite toppings.

"How about bananas?" she asks innocently.

"We’re out of bananas!" you call from behind the counter, pouring yourself more coffee.

Minho pats his daughter’s shoulder. "Tough luck."

But you come to the rescue, placing a bowl of blueberries and whipped cream next to her plate. "We’ve got these, though."

Byeol beams, picking up her fork. "Thanks, Mommy."

It’s never a competition between you two when it comes to earning Byeol’s affection, but with work keeping you busy most of the time, Minho likes creating little moments where she can bond with you. It’s just another way he shows how much he loves his two girls.

Minho points his spatula at you, narrowing his eyes. "I’ll let you have this win."

You make a face at him, and he turns away to hide his laughter.

The morning quickly becomes hectic as you both scramble to get Byeol ready for her school trip. Minho helps her pack while you diligently apply sunscreen to her.

"We’re not going to the beach. Why do I need sunblock?" Byeol complains.

"Because I don’t want you coming home looking like a blob of slime," you reply without missing a beat, finishing her legs. "Do you want to be a blob of slime?"

"No," she mutters while giggling.

"Good!" You adjust her socks and tighten her shoelaces, then let her go.

Dropping Byeol off at school is usually stressful—other moms often stare at him—but with you by his side, he feels more relaxed.

The parking lot is packed as parents say goodbye to their kids. Minho carries Byeol’s backpack while you walk hand in hand with her. When it’s time for the trip, you kneel down to Byeol’s level, fussing over her ponytail and clothes, unable to help yourself.

"Be good, okay?" you say softly, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "Listen to Miss Sara, and if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask."

"Okay, Mommy," Byeol nods.

You pull her into a hug, holding on like you’re sending her off to war rather than a school trip.

"Don’t forget to drink water, eat your lunch, and—"

"I’ll be okay, Mommy," Byeol assures you with a smile.

You sigh, reluctantly letting her go. "And have fun!"

Minho chuckles quietly at how grown-up your six-year-old is acting. He bends down, hugging her and planting a quick kiss on her cheek.

"We’ll pick you up later," he reminds her.

"Yes, Daddy."

After a quick wave, Byeol boards the bus. You both stand watching until the bus pulls away, your hand slipping into Minho’s as you turn to head back to the car.

"It’s a beautiful day," you sigh contentedly, gazing up at the sky. "And we have the whole afternoon to ourselves."

He grins, watching how relaxed you suddenly look. "What do you want to do?"

You swing his hand playfully, thinking. "How about we grab some take-out and have a picnic?"

"Sounds good," Minho says, unlocking the car.

"We can get your favorite pudding for dessert," you add, already planning the afternoon.

As you buckle your seatbelt, you turn to him, a mischievous glint in your eye. "Or…"

"Or what?"

You place your hand on his knee and grin. "Or we stay home and make babies?"

Minho raises an eyebrow at the sudden suggestion, amused but not surprised. He doesn’t mind the idea at all, but with how nice the weather is, staying inside seems like a waste.

You squeeze his knee gently. "So? What’s it going to be?"

Minho glances between you and the road ahead, the decision already made. He pulls the car onto the street, heading in the direction of home.

-

Everyone in the parlor has asked for the weekend off to enjoy the summer, so Minho granted it, leaving the parlor downstairs closed until Tuesday.

This also means you and Minho have the whole building to yourselves and you obviously going to make the most of this rare moment. You push him onto the sofa, straddling him without hesitation, your mouth crashing against his. Your body moves on its own, hands frantically unbuttoning his shirt while your hips grind against his crotch. Your lips continuously press against his, breath heavy and hungry.

He holds you close, one hand resting on the small of your back while the other tangles in your hair, fisting it as he tilts your head to the side, giving him access to your neck.

“Honey, not a hickey, please?” you mutter breathlessly as his teeth graze your skin.

He drags his lips up to your ear, playfully biting at it. “Why not? You look good with one,” he teases, his words punctuated by a wet kiss on your jaw.

“We still have to pick up your daughter later,” you remind him, not wanting to give the other parents something to gossip about.

“Afraid they’ll be jealous of you?” he murmurs.

“You think you’re that hot, huh?”

His hand slips beneath your dress, fingers teasing your clothed sex, tracing over your clit. The pressure makes you gasp as he rubs slow, deliberate circles. His smirk is devilish, eyes dark with lust.

“I know I am,” he says confidently.

You can’t deny the heat pooling inside you as his fingers work their magic. “Honey…” you whine, though you don’t truly mind.

Suddenly, he shifts, gently lifting you off his lap and laying you down on the sofa. His shirt falls to the floor, exposing his toned chest. With a heated gaze, he pushes the hem of your dress up, tugging at the waistband of your underwear. He pulls it down slowly, deliberately, his eyes never leaving yours. He parts your legs with his hands, lowering himself between your thighs without a word. His mouth trails wet kisses down the inside of your thigh before he dives in, pressing his mouth to your wetness.

A whimper escapes your lips as his tongue expertly teases you. You can’t help but close your eyes, overwhelmed by the sensation as he takes his time savoring every inch of you. Occasionally, you glance down to see his head buried between your legs, his tattooed arms wrapped around your thighs. The sight alone sends waves of arousal through you.

“Honey, oh…” you moan as he sucks on your clit, your body trembling with need.

Minho lifts his head, his mouth glistening with your essence. He flicks his tongue against your sensitive clit, his dark eyes watching your every reaction.

“Oh, God…” you moan loudly, unafraid, knowing you’re alone in the house.

His lips close around your clit once more, sucking gently as he slides two fingers inside you. The dual sensations have you gasping, eyes rolling back as your grip on the sofa tightens.

“Oh, honey… that feels so good,” you mutter breathlessly, barely able to think as pleasure overwhelms you.

Your noises only encourage him, his mouth and fingers working in perfect harmony, pushing you closer to your high. Your hands tug at his hair, legs trembling as he holds them open, keeping you steady as he pushes you toward the edge.

It doesn’t take long until you cum against his mouth, your body trembling as Minho eagerly drinks in your release. His tongue moves with precision, lapping up every drop of your essence as you ride out your climax, the sensation overwhelming in the best way. He doesn’t shy away, savoring you completely as you come undone beneath him.

Breathless, you feel the need to return the favor. Without a word, you push him back slightly and reach for his shirt. You peel it off, revealing his inked body, each line and curve of the tattoos forever captivating you. Your lips trail over his skin, kissing his chest, neck, and down to the waistband of his jeans, inhaling his natural, intoxicating scent along the way.

Dropping to your knees, you deftly undo the button and fly of his jeans, the sound of the zipper cutting through the quiet room. His growing arousal is clear as you take his hardening length from its confines. You wrap your hand around him, stroking slowly while locking eyes with him, savoring the way his breath hitches in anticipation.

Minho leans back into the sofa, head resting against the cushions as his body relaxes into your touch. He gives you all the room you need, a silent invitation to take control. You waste no time, your mouth closing around his length, warm and wet as you begin to pleasure him.

His hand gently moves to your hair, brushing it out of the way as he watches you intently. "Keep going, honey," he murmurs, his voice soft yet commanding, his thumb brushing your cheek affectionately as you take him deeper.

Your lips glide smoothly along his shaft, your hand stroking the base while your mouth works the rest. His quiet moans and gasps fuel your movements, encouraging you as you bring him closer to the edge. You feel him tense beneath you, his release fast approaching.

Moments later, his body shudders, and he spills into your mouth, his cum spilling onto your tongue. A few drops land on your lips and chin, painting your skin. Minho gazes down at you, his dark eyes full of desire as if admiring his handiwork.

"I know it’s a lot, but I want you to swallow it for me, honey," he whispers, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw.

Obediently, you close your mouth and swallow, your throat working to take him in. You open your mouth again afterward, showing him that you’ve done as he asked, a mischievous glint in your eye.

A satisfied smirk plays at the corner of his lips, and he pulls you up to straddle him once more. His hands find your waist, holding you firmly as he leans in, pressing his lips to yours. He kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth as if he can taste himself on you.

For a while, the two of you simply sit there, your bodies pressed together, enjoying the rare and uninterrupted intimacy. There's no rush, no need for words—just the quiet, perfect moment shared between you.

This moment here is yours and yours only.

-

To cool down from the heat of the day, you grab two cans of cold beer from the fridge and hand one to Minho before plopping down beside him on the sofa. Without a word, you take his arm and drape it over your shoulder, snuggling in as close as possible. His presence is comforting, and today, you crave it more than usual.

“To making babies!” you chime, raising your can.

“To making babies!” Minho echoes, clinking his beer can against yours. You both take hearty gulps, the cold liquid instantly refreshing as it runs down your throats.

For months now, you and Minho have been trying to have another child, but despite your best efforts, the results haven't come. You both decided to stop stressing about it and just enjoy the process. And right now, enjoying the process is exactly what’s on your mind.

You softly trace the line of his jaw with your fingertips, feeling the light stubble there. “This mouth still knows how to make me feel good,” you mutter, your words laced with affection.

Minho smirks faintly at your compliment. “This mouth always takes me well,” he teases back, making you laugh softly.

You smile, leaning into him. “I think we’ve been working really well on this baby-making thing.”

“We make a great team,” he remarks, his hand snaking around your neck as he pulls you toward him, placing a kiss on your lips. His lips are warm, a reminder of the connection you both share.

“But honey…” he murmurs as he pulls back just enough to gaze at you, “We haven’t even started making babies yet.”

You narrow your eyes at him, catching onto the playful glint in his gaze. “Oh, yeah, you’re right.”

What happened earlier was just the warm-up, the teasing foreplay. The real fun, the true attempt, is still ahead. You take the can from his hand and place it on the coffee table, along with yours, before climbing onto his lap. Your arms loop around his neck as you straddle him, the closeness already setting your skin on fire.

Minho’s hands are quick to move, his fingers finding the zipper at the back of your dress. He tugs it down, the soft sound of it parting filling the quiet space. You help by pulling the dress over your head, tossing it onto the floor before pressing your body against his, skin to skin.

His lips capture yours in a slow, deep kiss, one that sends shivers down your spine. His hands roam your body, one sliding down your back until he reaches the curve of your rear, giving it a firm squeeze. You melt into his touch, sighing against his mouth.

“Let’s make cute babies, mmh?” you whisper, your lips brushing his before kissing him again.

“Yeah, let's make another little shit,” he jokes, a playful grin on his face as his hand lands a firm slap on your ass.

“Honey!” you shriek, though your sly smile gives away how much you’re enjoying it.

Maybe it’s the rare freedom of having the house to yourselves that makes Minho loosen up more than usual. He’s rougher, more intense, and you don’t hold back from showing how much you love every moment. Your moans fill the room as he thrusts into you, deep and purposeful, each movement sending waves of pleasure through you.

But then he slows down, deliberately pulling back just as you’re nearing your release, letting the tension slip away. He’s done it more than twice now, and it’s starting to drive you crazy.

“Minho, quit playing,” you grumble, gripping his shoulder, your frustration clear as your body aches for release.

“What?” he asks, playing dumb, a smirk plastered on his angular face.

“We have to pick up Byeol soon,” you remind him, your voice breathless. “We can’t be late.”

“Don’t worry, honey,” he reassures you, his words followed by a hasty kiss as he continues thrusting into you. “We’ll finish just in time.”

Minho always has his way, and you know it’s impossible to stop him when he wants something—especially this.

-

Later that night, you stand in the kitchen, watching the microwave hum as it cooks the popcorn. Your eyes drift toward the living room, where Minho and Byeol are sitting on the sofa, engrossed in a movie. Byeol, as animated as ever, is eagerly explaining something about the plot to her dad, her little hands moving in excitement.

It’s such a simple, everyday sight, yet it fills you with a deep sense of contentment. You can’t help but smile. Moments like this remind you of how lucky you are to have this life. But at the same time, a small voice inside asks: Do I really deserve all of this?

The microwave beeps, snapping you out of your thoughts. You grab the bowl you’ve prepared and carefully rip open the package, letting the freshly popped kernels spill into it. The warm, buttery scent fills the air as you carry the bowl to the living room.

You place the bowl of popcorn on Byeol’s lap, earning a sweet, “Thank you, mommy,” from her.

“You’re very welcome, honey,” you reply, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head before settling down next to Minho.

One arm wraps around his back as you nestle closer, resting your chin on his shoulder. You’ve always loved the way his tattoos curve along his neck, but what you love even more is kissing him there. So you do, placing a soft, lingering kiss on his skin, breathing in his familiar scent.

“How do you do it, honey?” you ask in a low voice.

Minho slightly turns his head, meeting your gaze as his hand moves to rest on top of yours, which lies comfortably on his chest. “What?”

“Act like you didn’t rearrange my guts hours ago on this very sofa?” you tease, a playful giggle escaping your lips.

He narrows his eyes at you, a mischievous smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. You can tell that the memory of your earlier activities is playing through his mind just like it is in yours. Instead of answering, he leans in and kisses you, his tongue sneaking past your lips in a move that’s definitely risky considering Byeol is just a few feet away. But Minho loves to push boundaries, and you love him for it.

Just as the kiss deepens, Byeol speaks up, her voice pulling you both back to reality. “Mommy, you have to watch this!” she pouts, her tone full of urgency. “This is the best part!”

You break the kiss with a soft laugh, one of those inevitable interruptions that come with being parents. You grab a handful of popcorn and turn your attention to the screen. “Okay, okay, Mommy’s watching,” you promise, your voice light as Minho keeps his hand laced with yours on his chest.

In moments like these, you realize something important: whether or not you ever have another child, you’re already blessed. Byeol is everything you could have ever asked for, and Minho—he’s been more than a great partner. He’s been a wonderful father and an unwavering source of love. Your marriage has been nothing short of bliss, and every day with them feels like a gift.

This is your family. Your little slice of forever. And you love them more than words can ever express.

-

It’s another day in Minho’s life, waking up early as usual. He stretches with a groan, then instinctively scoots closer to your side of the bed. His arm snakes around you, and he places a soft kiss on your neck, but something feels off.

Frowning, he props himself up on one elbow and gently moves the hair away from your face. The sheen of sweat on your forehead makes his concern grow. Minho presses the back of his hand to your neck, confirming what he fears—you’re burning up with a fever.

In an instant, he’s out of bed, hurrying to the medicine cabinet to grab the thermometer. When he returns, he presses the tip to your ear, waiting until the beep confirms it—you definitely have a fever.

“Honey,” he calls softly, his voice laced with worry as you shift under the covers. “You’re burning up.”

Your eyes flutter open, wincing as though it’s painful to wake. “I don’t feel well,” you croak.

“I’m going to get you some aspirin, okay?” Minho says, already half-jogging back to the cabinet, grabbing both the medicine and a glass of water.

He helps you sit up, watching closely as you take the aspirin and wash it down with a big gulp of water. Gently, he tucks you back into bed, pulling the blanket up to your chest.

“You’re not going to work today, okay?” Minho says firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You nod weakly, your eyes already closing as you curl up, trying to get more rest.

Minho sighs, hating to see you like this. Looking so pale and fragile, it makes him feel helpless. But all he can do is be there for you.

“Just rest, mmh?” he murmurs softly, patting your head tenderly. He fixes the blanket again before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. As he closes the door, he hopes you’ll get the peace and rest you need.

His morning routine is thrown off, but he shifts focus, knowing he needs to get Byeol ready for school. He moves through the kitchen, preparing breakfast and her lunchbox, making sure everything’s packed and ready.

“Where’s mommy?” Byeol asks, noticing the absence at the breakfast table.

“Mommy’s not feeling well,” Minho explains, making a mental note to call your assistant and inform them that you won’t be able to work today.

“Mommy is sick?” Byeol’s face is full of concern, even with her mouth full of food.

“Yes, honey.” Minho places the lid on her lunchbox and tucks it into her bag.

Before leaving, Byeol insists on checking on you. She tiptoes into the bedroom, softly resting her head on your arm and placing a kiss on your hand, even though you’re fast asleep.

“Bye, bye, mommy,” she whispers. “Get well soon!”

If only you could see it, you’d know how much your little girl cherishes and loves you.

Minho follows suit, bending down to kiss your head. “I’ll be back soon, honey,” he whispers.

The whole morning passes while you sleep, and by the time Minho returns from his work downstairs, he finds you sitting up in bed, talking on the phone, probably informing the office about your sick day. He checks your temperature once more, relieved to find that the fever is starting to subside. Sitting next to you, he feels your head rest on his shoulder the moment you hang up the call.

“Feeling better?” he asks softly.

“Still feel like shit,” you mutter bluntly.

“You haven’t eaten anything,” Minho gently scolds. “Want me to make you something?”

You nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck, taking a moment to think. “You know, I suddenly crave your fried rice.”

“Fried rice?” He raises an eyebrow, expecting you to want soup or something light.

“Mm-hmm,” you confirm, “and make it a little spicy.”

“Spicy fried rice?” Minho asks, slightly surprised, considering your low spice tolerance.

“Yes,” you insist, and he can’t help but smile.

“Okay, okay,” he chuckles, giving in easily. He lingers a little longer, enjoying your warmth as you snuggle into him.

As he cooks in the kitchen, Minho is surprised when he sees you walking out of the bedroom. Slowly, you make your way to the sofa in the living room.

“I was about to bring it to you in bed,” he says, pouring the freshly made fried rice onto a plate.

“It’s okay,” you wave him off, sitting down with a sigh. “I needed to go to the bathroom anyway.”

He brings the food over, along with another aspirin and a glass of water. Sitting beside you, he watches as you take your first bite.

“Oh, God! This is so good,” you gush, as though tasting his fried rice for the first time.

“It’s not too spicy?”

“Actually, it’s not spicy enough,” you tease, which makes him laugh since he knows how low your spice tolerance usually is.

Time passes quickly, and soon, it’s almost time to pick up Byeol from school.

“Don’t forget to take your medicine after,” Minho reminds, kissing your head before standing up.

“Honey,” you call sweetly.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask for more fried rice before you leave?” You flash him a playful grin.

How could he say no to that? “Of course, honey.”

When Byeol arrives home, she runs straight to you, burying her face in your chest, clearly happy to see you looking a little better.

“Mommy, don’t be sick!” she mumbles with such concern, it tugs at your heart.

“It’s just a fever, honey. Mommy will be okay,” you assure her, rubbing her back softly.

Minho watches the scene, understanding just how much you mean to Byeol and how much it affects you to see her worry. He heads back to the kitchen, preparing some snacks for her before his next appointment at the parlor.

“Take care of mommy while Daddy’s working, okay?” he says, giving Byeol a little responsibility.

Two hours later, Minho returns to find the two of you still in the living room. Byeol is busy working on her homework while you’ve fallen asleep on the sofa.

“Shh... mommy’s sleeping,” Byeol whispers as soon as she notices him approaching, her finger pressed to her lips.

Minho steps back with his hands raised. “Okay, sorry,” he whispers with a chuckle.

Still speaking in a hushed tone, Minho asks, “What do you want for dinner?”

Byeol thinks hard, a hand under her chin just like you do when making decisions. “Hmm... soup dumplings?”

Minho smiles. “Okay, soup dumplings it is.”

“Can Mommy eat soup dumplings when she’s sick?” Byeol asks, her thoughtfulness touching his heart.

“I think so. Mommy would love them,” he assures her.

Byeol smiles, content with the answer, before returning to her homework.

As Minho watches the two of you, he feels that familiar sense of determination. There’s nothing he loves more than taking care of his girls, but seeing one of you get sick? That part he hates. And it only makes him more resolved to do everything he can to keep you both safe and happy.

-

The next morning, it’s as if the fever never happened. You wake up a little later than Minho, feeling refreshed after a shower and getting dressed for work. There's a bounce in your step as you head to the kitchen, the scent of coffee drawing you in.

"How do you feel?" Minho asks as you nonchalantly steal his mug and take a sip of his coffee.

"I feel good," you reply with a smile, leaning in to press a lingering kiss on his lips before heading off to Byeol’s room.

You help your daughter get ready, brushing her hair and helping her pick out clothes. Together, you return to the dining table, where Byeol beams up at Minho, already dressed and ready for school.

"This looks delicious, daddy!" she chirps, eyeing the breakfast spread.

"Then you'll have no problem finishing it, right?" Minho teases, earning a giggle from her.

He serves you a fresh plate and pours another cup of coffee before sitting down for a quiet breakfast together. You take your first bite of scrambled eggs, but something’s off. Almost immediately, you feel your stomach turn, and you slap a hand over your mouth, quickly excusing yourself to the bathroom.

"Is mommy sick again?" Byeol asks, her voice tinged with concern.

"Daddy will check on mommy," Minho reassures her, getting up to follow you.

He finds you bent over the sink, splashing water into your mouth, trying to calm the nausea. Worry flickers across his face as he steps inside.

"Honey, are you okay?" he asks gently, handing you a towel.

You nod, still rinsing your mouth, though the nausea lingers. "I’m fine," you manage, though the look in his eyes tells you he’s not convinced.

You snort, spitting water into the sink as a small smile breaks through. He rubs soothing circles on your back, but the concern doesn’t leave his face.

"You didn’t have any trouble swallowing the other day," he jokes, his voice low and teasing.

"Maybe you should take another day off work," he suggests.

"I’m okay," you say, more to convince yourself than him.

"You sure?"

"I’m sure," you nod, smiling faintly.

Still not entirely convinced, he squeezes your shoulder. "I’ll drive you to work today."

You stay in the bathroom for a moment longer, trying to shake off the odd feeling, while Minho returns to Byeol, who’s nearly finished her breakfast. He packs her lunch, sliding it into her school bag just as you call for him from the bedroom.

"Minho…" Your voice trembles slightly, and he’s at your side in seconds, worry clouding his eyes.

"What’s going on?" he asks, noticing the strange look on your face.

You raise your hand, holding something small and unmistakable—a pregnancy test. "I’m pregnant," you announce, the words filled with joy as a slow smile spreads across your face.

This is the moment you've both been waiting for, what you’ve been hoping would happen after months of trying. You should be celebrating together, but as the realization sinks in, you notice something shift in Minho’s expression. There’s happiness there, but it’s shadowed by something else—uncertainty, perhaps—and it’s enough to make your smile falter.

You look away, turning to Byeol instead. "Mommy is having another baby," you say, keeping your tone light and cheerful.

Byeol looks as confused as Minho, though hers is an innocent curiosity. "Is it a boy or a girl?"

"Mommy doesn’t know yet," you chuckle softly, kneeling beside her. "But you’re going to be a big sister."

"Who’s going to be a big sister?" Felix’s voice echoes from the doorway. You turn, spotting him leaning against the frame, his eyes bright with curiosity.

It’s a conversation you know will be public knowledge soon enough, so you smile and tell him, "Byeol is going to be a big sister."

Felix gasps, his eyes going wide. "Oh! You’re pregnant?" he asks, just to make sure he’s hearing correctly.

"Yes," you nod.

"Oh my gosh! Congratulations!" Felix exclaims, immediately pulling you into a hug. Heis genuinely thrilled, his excitement infectious, and for a moment, you let yourself enjoy it. But in the back of your mind, the comparison stings—this was the reaction you had hoped for from Minho.

A deafening silence fills the car on the ride to work, an unspoken tension hanging heavy between you and Minho. After dropping off Byeol at school, neither of you speaks, and the quiet lingers, almost suffocating. It's only when the car pulls up outside your office building that you finally break it.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face him. “Minho,” you say softly, your voice carrying a weight that makes him immediately focus. He lets go of the steering wheel, giving you his full attention.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to work without us talking about it,” you admit, addressing the elephant in the room. Your fingers find his, loosely lacing them together. “You can tell me what’s really going on.”

Minho shifts, clearly aware that his earlier reaction might have come across the wrong way. He takes a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “It’s not that I’m not happy,” he starts, his voice quiet, “I’m just… worried.”

Your brows furrow, and he continues, his eyes softening as he speaks. “You remember when you gave birth to Byeol? You went through so much pain, and… you lost a lot of blood.”

The memory seems to weigh heavily on him, and you can almost see it playing out in his mind as he talks. “Seeing you sick is enough to make me worry, but I can’t bear the thought of you going through that again.”

For a split second, he lets down his guard, allowing you to glimpse the deeper, more fragile part of him. The part that cares for you more than anything else in the world.

“Oh, honey…” you sigh, the sadness in your voice mixing with a fond smile as you lean closer. “You just love me so much, don’t you?”

Minho shrugs in that nonchalant way he does, trying to play it off like it’s no big deal. But you can see through it.

You chuckle softly, squeezing his hand tighter. “Honestly, I’m scared too,” you confess. “But I’m not when I’m with you.” You rest your head on his shoulder, breathing in deeply, letting the warmth of the moment settle between you both. “With you, I feel like I can do anything.”

You shift slightly, meeting his gaze with a smile that’s full of reassurance and love. It’s a smile that tells him you’re ready for this, that you both are.

Minho looks at you for a moment, then, unable to help himself, he jokes, "When it comes down to you or the child, just know… I’ll choose to adopt Felix."

Your eyes widen in playful disbelief, pretending to stammer, "Uh... okay?" before you both break into laughter.

He cups your face gently, his thumb brushing your cheek as he pulls you in for a kiss. It’s not just any kiss—it lingers, slow and deep, conveying all the love he has for you, the excitement that’s starting to bubble beneath the surface now that his fears are laid bare.

When the kiss ends, you whisper, “Just close your eyes, Minho and I'll tell you when the scary part is over.”

And for the first time since the news, Minho lets go of the weight on his chest. He chooses to believe in the good things, in the joy that’s coming, and almost can’t believe it—his family is getting bigger.

-

Four months have passed, and your baby bump has grown. Minho can't help but admire how your pencil skirt hugs your figure, accentuating the curve of your belly. It’s a constant reminder to him that you’re carrying his child, and the thought stirs something primal in him. Moreover, you’ve been carrying the pregnancy well, glowing with that unmistakable maternal aura that only makes him fall for you more. But beyond admiration, it also ignites a deeper, more physical desire in him.

The rooftop of the tattoo parlor, where the Oddinary crew often gathers, is buzzing with laughter as they celebrate Yoon’s birthday. Pizza boxes and cans of beer are scattered around, though you and Byeol stick to bottles of juice.

"This is from us," Minho says casually, handing Yoon the gift as if it's no big deal.

Yoon lights up as she accepts it. "Thank you so much!"

"Happy birthday, Yoon!" you add with a smile, comfortably sitting on Minho’s lap.

"Can I open it?" Yoon asks, her excitement barely contained.

"Go ahead!" you encourage. "We hope you like it."

Yoon eagerly tears through the wrapping, revealing a brand-new iPad. Her old one had seen better days, and she’d often complained about needing a new one for her tattoo designs now that she was taking on more clients. Her eyes widen, and she clutches it close to her chest. "Oh, thank you! I really needed this."

Felix, with Byeol on his lap, glances over with a playful pout. "You guys didn’t get me that game console when I asked it as a birthday gift," he mutters.

"That’s because you already play too many video games," you scold, slipping effortlessly into a motherly tone.

Felix turns to Minho for support. "Hyung?"

Minho grins. "I’m afraid she’s right."

Felix lets out a dramatic groan, "Not fair!"

Meanwhile, Sujin hands Yoon a necklace, adding to her growing collection as she likes to stack multiple necklaces around her neck on daily basis.

"So, where are we going out tonight?" she asks, likely already texting her husband with plans.

Minho shakes his head, his decision firm. "I’m sitting this one out tonight."

"Why?" Yoon asks, her brows knitting together.

Minho retrieves his wallet from his back pocket and hands Yoon a credit card. "You all have fun. It’s on me."

Yoon pretends to consider. "Great! I’ll use this to pay my phone bills then," she jokes, holding the card with both hands.

Sujin steps in with a playful roll of her eyes, taking the card from Yoon. "Don’t worry, I’ll keep everyone in check."

After tucking Byeol into bed, Minho joins you in the bedroom. He finds you in the bathroom, already dressed for bed, applying lotion to your arms as part of your nightly skincare routine. Without a word, he slips behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as his hands rest gently on your baby bump.

"You know, I don’t mind if you went out tonight," you say, catching his gaze in the mirror. "Or any night, really."

Minho nuzzles his face into your neck, inhaling the soothing scent of your skin. "It’s okay. I have something better to do anyway," he replies, his voice low.

A soft chuckle escapes your lips as you lean into his touch. "And what’s that?" you ask, already knowing the answer.

His lips brush against your neck as he murmurs, "You."

For the last few months, Minho has been cautious, knowing it wasn't safe to be intimate in the early stages of your pregnancy. But tonight, the careful distance he’s kept melts away. He needs you, craves you.

Later, you lie at the edge of the bed, propped on your elbows, your eyes locked on him with the same hunger that burns in his. Minho stands, positioned between your legs, moving with slow, deliberate care. His hands are planted on either side of your waist, and he leans down, pressing soft, heated kisses on your skin.

"Honey…" you moan, your voice a breathless whisper as his lips trail over your neck.

You tilt your head, seeking his mouth, and he gives in, kissing you with an intensity that feels like a lifeline. His movements are measured, filled with restraint and passion, but you can feel him starting to lose control, both of you teetering on the edge.

"I’m so close," you whimper, your hand gripping his arm tightly.

Minho threads his fingers through yours, his voice a soft promise. "I’ll give it to you, honey," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin.

With one last push, the tension between you snaps, and Minho groans deeply as he releases, filling you completely. His lips find yours in a deep, breathless kiss, his body trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure.

As you both lie together afterward, the room quiet except for the sound of your breathing, Minho pulls you close, his hand resting tenderly on your belly. He peppers your skin with soft, fluttering kisses, his heart full, his love for you overwhelming.

"I love you," he whispers, the words carrying a weight that fills the room.

You smile, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. "I love you."

And that’s how Minho ends his day—wrapped up in you, content and at peace, his heart overflowing with love for the family you’re growing together.

-

In the middle of the night, Minho stirs from his sleep as he feels the bed shift. His eyes blink open just in time to see you slipping out of the bedroom. A wave of sleepiness pulls him to stay put, but curiosity wins over. He pushes himself out of bed and follows you.

Quietly stepping into the kitchen, Minho catches sight of you standing by the fridge, sniffing a jar of pickles. "What are you doing?" he asks, his eyes squinted in the dim light.

Startled, you nearly drop the jar, letting out a sigh of relief when you realize it’s just him. "Minho, can you not—" you begin, a little exasperated, but the words trail off.

Minho approaches, his footsteps soft, mindful not to wake Byeol, who’s fast asleep in her room. It’s not the first time he’s found you sneaking into the kitchen for a midnight snack, and he understands it. Pregnancy cravings don’t adhere to normal schedules.

"Are you hungry?" he asks gently, placing a hand on the small of your back.

"Yeah," you reply sheepishly, setting the pickles aside.

"What do you feel like eating?" Minho opens the fridge, glancing at the contents inside.

You scratch your chin, reminding him so much of Byeol when she’s deep in thought. Then, with a grin, you suggest, "Grilled cheese?"

As Minho works in the kitchen, keeping the noise to a minimum, you curl up on the sofa, munching on some of Byeol’s leftover snacks and catching up on your favorite show. It’s comforting, the familiar routine of it all, even at this hour.

Soon enough, Minho walks over with a plate in hand. You reach out eagerly, but the sandwich is still too hot to touch, causing you to hiss in surprise. "Honey, can you—" you begin to ask, but Minho, anticipating your next request, hands you a bottle of honey before you can finish the sentence.

"Thank you," you beam, wasting no time drizzling the honey over the grilled cheese.

Minho watches with a mixture of amusement and fondness. You didn’t have any unusual cravings during your first pregnancy, but this time around, honey seems to find its way onto everything—toast, fruit, milk, even pizza. It’s strange, but as long as you’re happy and eating, he’s not about to question it.

"Good?" he asks, eyes twinkling.

You nod, unable to answer with your mouth full of food. He can’t help but smile as he watches you enjoy every bite.

"Do you want me to make you another one?" he offers as you near the end of the sandwich.

"If I keep eating like this in the middle of the night, I’m going to get so big," you grumble, pausing to add more honey to the toast.

Minho tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Why is that a bad thing?" he asks, his voice soft. "That just means there’ll be more of you for me to hold."

His words make you smile, and with a playful glint in your eyes, you shove the last piece into your mouth. "In that case, I’ll take another one."

While waiting for the second grilled cheese, you switch up your approach, tearing it into pieces and dipping them in honey. Your attention shifts between the food and the TV, but then you suddenly blurt out, "We don’t know the baby’s gender yet, but I think we should have a pet name."

Minho chuckles. "Got any ideas?"

You pause for a moment before laughing at your own suggestion, "Honeypot?"

Minho grins, playing along. "How about ‘little shit’?"

You surprise him by laughing and agreeing, "I like that. Because he’s being a greedy little shit right now," you say affectionately, your hand resting on your baby bump.

Minho watches you with a warm smile, finding it adorable how you scold your bump with such endearment. It hits him, too—this little one is his little shit as well.

"We’ll have to be careful not to say that around Byeol though," you add with a grin.

-

Third trimester is where things get a little rough.

Your baby bump has grown even larger, and your protruding belly button makes it nearly impossible to find a comfortable sleeping position. Swollen ankles and feet, constant trips to the bathroom every hour or two, and an aching back keep you tossing and turning through the night. Worse, your body radiates heat, and Minho, sharing the bed with you, often wakes up drenched in sweat. But no matter how uncomfortable it gets for him, he knows you’ve got it much worse.

It’s the weekend, and Minho’s first thought is to let you and Byeol rest. He starts cooking breakfast a little later than usual, hoping you’ll get some extra sleep. The smell of food wafts through the apartment, and soon, you shuffle into the kitchen, sleepily rubbing your eyes.

"Morning," you mumble, slowly making your way to him, one hand supporting your belly as you lean in for a soft morning kiss.

"Morning," he replies, still whisking the batter for French toast.

"What’s for breakfast?" you ask, wrapping your arms around him from behind and resting your chin on his shoulder.

"French toast," Minho answers, focused on the task at hand.

"Yum!" you hum, your voice filled with satisfaction as you gently let go of him to patiently wait for breakfast on the dining table.

Sitting down, you grab your phone and begin to check work emails, your mind briefly occupied. As you concentrate on typing, a sudden sneeze bursts out of you.

"Oh?!" You gasp, feeling something unexpected. Your eyes widen, and you glance toward Minho. "I think I just pissed my pants."

Minho freezes, whisk in hand, turning to you with wide eyes. "Are you serious?"

"I don’t know," you laugh, frustration mixing with amusement. "I can't see it."

Your belly is too big to check on your own, so Minho walks over, pulling your chair back to give himself a better view. He bends down and takes a look.

"Nice!" he says, chuckling as he spots the wet patch on your shorts.

You narrow your eyes at him, clearly unamused. "You're having a good laugh, huh?"

Minho’s grin widens, unable to hold back the laughter. "Want me to help you clean up then?"

"Just hurry up with breakfast! I'm hungry!" you huff, half laughing, half exasperated, giving him a light push back toward the kitchen.

He turns back to the stove, still smiling as he flips the French toast, and a few minutes later, he places the plate in front of you. You can’t help but eye the delicious breakfast with anticipation.

Minho leans down and presses a quick kiss on the top of your head. "Eat well, pisspants," he teases, smirking.

You groan but can’t help smiling as you take a bite of the French toast. Even with the little mishap, moments like these make everything easier to handle—his teasing, his care, and the love that fills your home.

-

Minho only has one appointment today, and once he's done, he heads up to the third floor. He finds you napping on the sofa, the TV still on in the background. The sight makes him pause, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He knows better than to wake you—you’ve been struggling to sleep at night, and the rest is much needed.

Settling down beside you, Minho glances at the TV. It’s one of those shows you love, the kind that he could never get into, but he watches it anyway because you do. After two episodes, though, he starts to get bored. He leans closer, unable to resist the urge to press soft kisses against your cheek, then your forehead, and finally the tip of your nose.

"Honey, wake up," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper as he playfully tugs your nose between his lips.

You stir in your sleep, letting out a groggy groan as you weakly push at his head, trying to go back to sleep.

"Wake up," Minho tries again, this time burying his face into your neck and planting a series of ticklish kisses along your skin. "I’m bored."

"Go play with your daughter," you mumble, eyes still closed, your voice heavy with sleep.

"Your parents are taking her fishing, remember?" Minho reminds you, his tone soft but teasing. "You’re stuck with me."

The words sink in slowly, and you finally crack your eyes open, squinting up at him. "What do you want to do?" you ask, half curious, half resigned to whatever he’s planning.

Minho grins, shifting on the sofa to make himself more comfortable. "We can ride a roller coaster."

You chuckle, still drowsy. "I don’t think they let pregnant women ride roller coasters."

"Okay, fine. Haunted house?"

"Also, pregnant," you remind him, closing your eyes again.

He huffs, feigning frustration as he thinks. "How about a horror movie?"

You consider for a moment before mumbling, "Sure, put one on. I’ll watch it with you."

"No," he counters, shaking his head. "We’re not watching it here."

That gets your attention. You open one eye, giving him a suspicious look. "You want to go out and watch a horror movie?"

"Yup," Minho nods enthusiastically.

You sigh, staring at the ceiling as if contemplating how you ended up married to someone this persistent. "Fine, give me a minute to get ready."

The real reason Minho wanted to take you out wasn’t just boredom. He knew things would change soon, with a second child on the way, and he couldn’t remember the last time it was just the two of you. You deserved a break, and he wanted to give it to you, even if that meant taking you to see a horror movie you’d likely sleep through.

Later, after the movie, Minho waits outside the women’s restroom with your bag slung over his shoulder. When you emerge, you’re grumbling under your breath, your face scrunched up in discomfort.

"My feet," you mutter, pausing to adjust your swollen ankles in your shoes.

Minho glances down and sees how tight the shoes have become, your feet swollen from the pregnancy. Without missing a beat, he suggests, "Let’s get you a pair of sandals, yeah?"

You nod, grateful, as he leads you to a nearby shop. Inside, he doesn’t hesitate to kneel down, taking off your shoes and replacing them with a more comfortable pair of sandals. While he’s down there, he gently rubs your ankles, soothing the swelling.

"Better?" he asks, looking up at you with a smile.

"Much better, thank you," you sigh, relief washing over you as you take his hand, helping him to his feet.

On the way out of the store, you pause to admire a cardigan on display, your fingers brushing over the soft fabric. Minho notices, stepping beside you.

"You want that one too?" he asks, already reaching for his wallet.

You hesitate for a moment before slipping it off the hanger. "Does it look good on me?"

"I think it fits you well," he simply answers.

Minho buys it without a second thought, handing it over to you with a smile. He knows you can buy it for yourself, but he enjoys spoiling you in little ways when he can. It’s his way of showing his love, in gestures that remind him how lucky he is to have you.

As you both make your way to your favorite Italian restaurant, Minho buys a flower from an elderly lady selling them on the street. He hands it to you with a soft smile, the simple gesture making you raise an eyebrow.

"Okay, you can tell me now," you say, taking the flower but eyeing him suspiciously.

"What?" he laughs, feigning innocence.

"You know I wasn’t suspicious until you gave me flowers," you tease, poking at him with your free hand. "So what’s this all about?"

Minho grins, leaning back in his chair, his hand resting comfortably on your thigh. "I just felt bad for the elderly lady," he explains with a shrug.

You narrow your eyes, skeptical. "The last time you gave me flowers, you were apologizing for lying to me."

He chuckles, taking a sip of water as if stalling.

Leaning in, you lower your voice conspiratorially. "Did you sell the building to pay for your secret gambling debt?"

"No!" Minho laughs, shaking his head at your wild guess.

"Did you kill someone and need my help to bury the body?" you continue, your tone playful but serious.

His lips twitch into a smirk. "You’d help me bury the body?"

"Depends on who you killed," you joke, tearing a piece of bread and popping it into your mouth. "Whoever it was probably deserved it."

Minho’s laughter fades into a thoughtful smile. There was, in fact, something he needed to tell you, something he’s been holding back. After a moment, he clears his throat, turning more serious.

"You remember Hyunjin?" he asks.

You tilt your head. "The beautiful, tall guy with long dark hair and a rose tattoo on his finger?"

Minho narrows his eyes, pointing at your baby bump. "Be careful, you're already cheating on me with that little shit."

You laugh and put all of your attention on him, "Go on, what about Hyunjin?"

"He invited me to do a guest spot at his parlor," Minho says in a rush, blurting out the words.

You blink at him. "You want to do it?"

He nods slowly. "Yeah. I think it’d be... fun."

You smile softly, seeing how much he wants it. "Then you should do it."

Minho hesitates, his hand tightening slightly on your thigh. "But I can’t leave you. Not when you’re…"

"Yes, you can," you cut him off gently, placing your hand over his, "And you will."

"But I’ll be away for two weeks," he protests, his voice softening with worry.

"That’s fine. I’ll be on maternity leave anyway," you remind him, tearing another piece of bread. "It works out."

Minho stares at you for a moment, his heart swelling with gratitude and love. "You’re okay with it?" he asks, still unsure why he hesitated so much in the first place.

"Look, Minho," you begin, squeezing his hand, "You’ve done so much for me, for us. I want you to be able to do your thing too."

The simplicity of your words hits him harder than he expected. He looks at you, feeling overwhelmed with how lucky he is to have you as his partner, someone who understands him without him needing to explain. You give him the freedom to be his own person while still being a devoted father and husband.

"I don’t want you to hesitate to tell me the next time you have something you want to do, okay?" You add, your voice soft yet firm.

Minho nods, the smile that spreads across his face filled with love and gratitude. He leans in, pressing his lips to yours in a soft, lingering kiss.

-

The apartment feels quieter than usual with Byeol spending the weekend with your parents. Despite the peace, a slight ache of longing tugs at your chest, so you call her to hear her voice. After a sweet chat, you hand the phone to Minho so she can talk with her dad.

“We’ll pick you up tomorrow, okay?” he says softly to your daughter. He smiles at something she says, his voice tender as he adds, “Sleep well. Goodnight!” He hangs up, and you sigh, shifting for what feels like the hundredth time beside him.

“The little shit won’t stop moving,” you mutter, rubbing your belly in frustration.

Minho puts your phone away and leans against the headboard, patting the space between his legs. “Come here.”

You shuffle over, leaning your back against his chest. His arms wrap around you, and his hands instantly find your swollen belly, rubbing gentle, soothing circles over it. His touch has always been your comfort.

“I think little shit can’t sleep because of the horror movie we watched earlier,” you murmur, resting your head in the crook of his neck.

He chuckles softly, his fingers tracing patterns beneath your camisole, feeling every tiny kick and movement. “No, I think little shit is just excited.”

The sensation of his hands on you, tender yet firm, is grounding. Slowly, the tension eases from your body. You melt into his warmth, your eyelids growing heavier with each caress. Minho presses a series of soft kisses along your temple, quiet and full of affection. His hand reaches for yours and he slips his fingers in between.

Knowing that he's noticing your swollen fingers, you say, "I need to take the wedding ring off."

Without saying anything, Minho takes it off for you and slightly struggling doing it. Once he successfully takes it off, he safely places the ring on the bedside table.

“How can I leave if you’re like this, mmh?” he whispers, his lips brushing your skin.

“This isn’t my first rodeo, Minho," You smile sleepily, your eyes barely open. "I’ll be okay.”

"No, I mean, leaving you and you're not wearing the wedding ring..." he says with a playful smirk.

Your laugh vibrates through him, "I don’t think people would try to flirt with pregnant woman."

"I do," he shamelessly admits.

"That’s because you're deranged," you teasingly say and look over you shoulder at him, "my deranged husband."

His arms tighten around you, and though he knows you’re right, the thought of leaving still tugs at him. But as he feels you relax completely in his embrace, he remembers that if there's one thing he learned from years of being married to you is that you're stronger than you look.

-

It's 3 a.m., but Minho can’t bring himself to move. He lies there, watching you sleep peacefully beside him, your belly softly rising and falling with each breath. Part of him wishes he could stay, to spend the whole day with you. After a while, he reluctantly leans in, pressing a sweet, lingering kiss to your cheek before carefully pulling himself away.

He slips out of bed, moving quietly around the room, trying not to disturb you. The first flight out of the city awaits, and he needs to be at the airport in less than an hour. Minho takes his suitcase downstairs, leaving it by the door before heading back upstairs for a proper goodbye.

He steps into Byeol’s room, pausing at the edge of her bed, watching her little form snuggled under the blankets. She looks so peaceful, and it tugs at his heart.

“Daddy will be back,” he whispers, brushing a few stray hairs off her forehead. Leaning down, he places a soft kiss there. “Love you, my little star.”

He makes a quiet exit from her room but freezes when he sees you standing in the doorway of your bedroom, your hands resting gently on your growing bump, a sleepy but warm smile on your face.

“You think you can get rid of me that easily, huh?” you tease, your voice low and playful.

Minho grins, walking over to meet you, and together, you head downstairs just as the taxi pulls up outside. The driver steps out to help with the luggage as Minho turns back to you, double-checking everything.

“Got your wallet? Flight tickets?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Got them,” he confirms, patting his jacket pocket.

“Are you sure you’re not forgetting anything?” You ask again.

There’s a sly smile on your lips, and Minho hesitates, trying to remember. You squint, holding up his phone that you’d swiped without him noticing. He smiles, taking it from you and tapping on the screen, only to see that you’ve changed his lock screen to a photo of you and Byeol.

“So you remember you’ve got a wife and a daughter waiting for you at home,” you say with a playful smirk.

Minho laughs, but when he unlocks the phone, he finds another surprise—a rather provocative picture of you, posing in a way that makes him flashing you a mischievous grin.

“Just a friendly reminder of what you’ll be losing if you even think about flirting with anyone,” you warn him, your tone teasing but with an edge of seriousness.

Minho tucks his phone away, stepping close to you, though your belly stops him from getting as close as he’d like. He places a hand tenderly on your bump, rubbing it in slow circles. “Keep this little shit inside until I get back, okay?”

You chuckle, your hand covering his. “I’ll try.”

His other hand cups your face, pulling you into a deep, lingering kiss. There’s something tender, something a little desperate about the way he holds you, as if this moment is too precious to let go.

“I love you,” he whispers between kisses, his voice low and full of feeling.

“I love you,” you murmur back, your smile soft against his lips, your forehead resting against his.

With a final kiss, Minho lets go, though his hand remains intertwined with yours. He traces his thumb across your cheek, as if memorizing your features one last time.

“Take care, and be back safely,” you say, your smile bittersweet.

He nods, but his legs feel heavy. This is the first time he’s leaving his family, and it’s harder than he anticipated. His body doesn’t want to move, like it’s rooted to the spot, not ready to let go.

“And don’t forget to enjoy yourself too, mmh?” you add with a warm smile.

Minho swallows the knot in his throat, forcing a smile. “I will.”

Finally, he turns toward the taxi, walking slowly as if each step pulls him further from you. He doesn’t look back—not yet—because he knows he’ll run straight back into your arms. Only when the taxi starts driving away does he glance back, watching you wave until he disappears down the street.

-

The red traffic light seems to stretch endlessly, making every minute feel like an hour. You glance over at the passenger seat, where the carefully packed dinner is growing colder by the second. As soon as the light turns green, you press down on the gas, navigating through the streets at the maximum speed allowed. There’s no time to waste, but you remind yourself that it’s better to make it home in one piece.

With a deep breath, you haul everything out of the car and begin your slow ascent up the stairs. Each step is a challenge with your swollen baby bump, and by the time you reach the third floor, you’re panting.

"Felix, I’m so sorry," you blurt out the moment you open the door to the apartment, "The traffic was horrible..." You trail off as you hurriedly place the bags on the dining table, relieved to finally be home.

The balance between work, pregnancy, and taking care of Byeol has become a juggling act without Minho around, and everyone in the parlor has been taking turns in helping you doing one of them.

As you catch your breath and turn towards the living room, you can’t help but chuckle at the sight before you. Byeol is perched on the couch, happily tying Felix’s long bleached hair into tiny ponytails, adding hairpins and colorful stickers to his face.

"It’s okay, we’re having fun," Felix says, staying as still as possible so Byeol can work on his hair. "Right, rockstar?"

"Mm-mmh," Byeol hums in agreement, her focus entirely on securing a final hairpin in place.

You laugh softly, “You two look like you’re having a blast.”

Once she finishes with Felix’s hair, Byeol runs over to you and hugs your waist, her small arms barely reaching around your bump. "Mommy’s home!" she giggles.

You smile down at her, stroking her hair gently. "Let’s have dinner first, alright? You must be hungry."

Her eyes light up as she eagerly asks, "What’s for dinner?"

"It’s your favorite—soup dumplings," you announce, watching her face brighten. "Go wash your hands first!"

Byeol scampers off to the sink as you turn back to Felix, who’s gently pulling the last hairpins out of his hair.

"Are you staying for dinner?" you ask while unpacking the food.

Felix shakes his head, running a hand through his now free-flowing hair. "I’ve actually got dinner plans with a friend, so I’ll head out."

"Sorry for keeping you," you say apologetically, glancing at the mess of stickers still plastered across his face. You step closer, helping him peel the last of them off.

Felix chuckles, grabbing his jacket. "It’s no problem, really."

"Byeol, say goodbye to Uncle Felix," you call as she finishes washing her hands.

"Thank you for playing with me, Uncle Felix," she says sweetly, running over to give him a hug.

"You’re very welcome, rockstar," Felix replies, hugging her back before standing up to give you a hug as well.

After he leaves, you feel the weight of the past week without Minho settle in. It’s been tough managing everything, but tomorrow marks the start of your maternity leave, and the relief is almost palpable.

"Have you done your homework?" you ask, wiping some leftover sauce from Byeol’s mouth as she finishes her dinner.

"Mommy, I don’t have school tomorrow," she giggles.

"Oh, right! Mommy forgot," you chuckle, realizing it’s school break. "Do you want to do something fun tomorrow?"

Byeol’s eyes widen with excitement. "Mommy’s not working?"

"Nope, no work!" you confirm with a smile.

Her face lights up even more. "I want to go to the aquarium!"

You pause, recalling that she’s already been there recently, but you quickly realize she’s asking for something more—time with you. With another baby on the way, your one-on-one moments with Byeol have been scarce.

"You know what? Tomorrow, we’ll go to the aquarium, and we’ll do whatever else you want. How does that sound?"

"Really, mommy?" she asks, her voice full of wonder.

"Really," you reply, smiling as you brush a hand over her hair.

The next morning, Byeol wakes up buzzing with excitement. She puts on her best clothes and even helps you pack a few things for the day. When you arrive at the parlor downstairs, Byeol is bursting with anticipation.

"Where are you going, superstar?" Sujin asks, opening her arms for a hug.

"I’m going to the aquarium with Mommy!" she declares proudly.

Sujin playfully pouts, "Can Auntie Sujin come too?"

"No," Byeol shakes her head, giggling as Sujin pretends to be offended.

Felix joins in, "What about me? Can I come?"

"No," Byeol repeats, still giggling. "It’s just me and Mommy!"

With everything packed and Byeol bubbling with excitement, you wave goodbye to the parlor crew and head out for a day that’s all about your little girl.

At the aquarium, Byeol is in awe of everything, dragging you from tank to tank, her tiny hand gripping yours as she points excitedly at the sea creatures. "Mommy, look!" she exclaims every few minutes, her eyes wide with wonder.

After hours of exploring, you stop for a quick lunch, letting Byeol take charge of ordering for both of you. She confidently hands over your credit card at the window, beaming with pride.

"So, what do you want to do next?" you ask between bites of fries.

She thinks for a moment before asking, "What about you, Mommy? What do you want to do?"

Caught off guard by her question, you blink a few times, then chuckle. "How about we get our nails done? Or we can watch a movie, or go shopping. What do you think?"

"I want to paint my nails too!" Byeol says, her enthusiasm never faltering.

You smile at the thought. "Alright, why don’t you pick the color, and we’ll have matching nails?"

No one knows your daughter best than you, she likes playing soccer instead of with her dolls, she always prefers to look scary for Halloween instead of dressed as princesses and recently, she mentioned that she wants to take a taekwondo class, you always thought she leans toward such things but you realize that there's so many sides of her that you just haven't discovered yet. A person can be so many things, there's no limit to what they like or what they interest in, for all you know, Byeol can be anything she wants.

Byeol takes the task seriously, carefully scanning the color options before choosing a vibrant purple. The two of you sit side by side at the salon, giggling as your nails are painted, Byeol opting for colorful flower designs on hers.

By the time dinner rolls around, you’re both exhausted but happy. As you head back home, Byeol suddenly dashes toward the elevator.

"Please hold the door! My mommy is pregnant, and she can’t walk fast!" she calls out to the person inside.

The lady smiles kindly and holds the door open. "What a thoughtful little girl you have," she says, patting Byeol’s head as you finally catch up.

"I’m lucky," you reply, pulling Byeol close as the two of you step inside.

As you reflect on the day, you can’t help but feel immense pride in your daughter. She’s growing up so fast, learning and becoming her own person in ways you hadn’t even noticed. You smile to yourself, knowing that no matter what, Byeol is already shaping up to be someone wonderful—someone strong, caring, and unafraid to try new things.

-

As you enter Byeol’s room, the weight of the day settles in, the ache in your feet reminding you of just how much you walked. Still, your little one inside won’t let you rest, kicking incessantly since you got home.

"Ready for bed, starshine?" you ask, watching Byeol eagerly climb under her covers.

"Yes, mommy," she replies, pulling the blanket up to her chin.

You wince slightly as you sit down beside her, gently tucking her in, and she notices immediately.

"Are you okay, mommy?" she asks, her voice full of concern.

"Mommy’s okay," you assure her with a smile. "The baby just keeps kicking."

Byeol, curious and excited, places her small hand on your belly, waiting. Her eyes widen when she feels a kick, and she grins up at you.

"So, did you have fun today?" you ask, softly brushing her hair back.

"I had so much fun!" she says, cuddling into your chest, her voice brimming with joy.

"We can do it again tomorrow," you say, leaning down to kiss her head.

"Mommy’s not working tomorrow?" she asks, her wide eyes hopeful.

"No, mommy is on maternity leave," you explain.

"What’s that?" she questions, her confusion evident.

"It means mommy doesn’t have to work until this baby pops out," you explain simply.

She brightly smiles when she hears it. She throws her arms around you and hugs you tightly as she says, "I love you, mommy."

Your heart shakes from hearing the earnestness in her words, you feel tears forming on the corner of your eyes. You blink them away and put on a smile as you say back, "And mommy loves you too."

You pull the blanket to cover her body and softly pat her head, "You must be tired. Let's get to sleep, yeah?"

She nods as drowsiness starts taking over her, "Goodnight, mommy."

"Goodnight, my shining star," you murmur with a lingering kiss on her forehead.

In your bedroom, you take a moment to sit on the bed and just process everything until you get overwhelmed by the emotions of the day. Tears prick at your eyes, but they’re a mix of joy, exhaustion, and love. Just as you start to wipe them away, the phone rings, and Minho’s name flashes on the screen. You quickly take a deep breath, not wanting to let him hear your tears, and answer the call.

"Hi, honey," you greet him with forced cheer.

"Hey, pisspants," he teases, and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

"How are you?" you ask, smiling despite yourself.

"I’m surprisingly fine without you," he jokes, and you roll your eyes, "Byeol?"

"All tucked in, not a chance of escape," you say with a playful chuckle.

"And the little shit?" he asks, referring to the baby.

"Practicing kickboxing in here," you say, rubbing your belly as the baby kicks again as if on cue.

"How was your day?" you ask, settling deeper into the bed, "No, wait, unless you tattooed someone’s buttock, I don’t want to hear it," you add with a laugh.

"Sadly, no," Minho replies with a grin in his voice.

"Then ask about my day," you demand, feeling a little more playful.

"Okay, how was your day?" he caves, amused.

You launch into the story of your day, telling him every detail from the morning to the aquarium trip, to Byeol ordering food at the drive-thru, and you can hear his smile through the phone as he listens. He interjects every now and then, keeping up the light banter, and for a moment, it feels like he’s right there with you.

"That sounds fun. I’m jealous," he says when you finish.

"It was," you sigh happily.

It’s moments like these, his teasing, his calm presence, that you miss the most. Your chest tightens with the ache of missing him.

"I miss you," you admit quietly, the tears from earlier creeping back up your throat.

"I miss you too, honey," he says softly, and you can feel the sincerity in his voice.

Even though he’s miles away, in that moment, you feel connected to him, the distance fading as you share the quiet agony of longing for each other.

-

The moment Minho steps off the plane, the cool airport air hits him, a welcome contrast to the hours spent in the stale cabin. He rolls his stiff shoulders, grateful to be on solid ground. He pulls out his phone, ready to text you, expecting to wait for a ride.

But as he walks toward baggage claim, he stops in his tracks, his eyes widening. There, standing just past the barrier, are you and Byeol.

His heart stutters, caught between surprise and overwhelming joy. He wasn’t expecting you to come all this way, especially with your swollen belly and how much you’ve been juggling at home. But here you are, and you’ve brought Byeol, her small face lighting up the second she sees him.

"Daddy!" Byeol yells, her voice cutting through the hum of the crowd as she breaks into a run toward him.

Minho barely has time to drop his carry-on before she’s in his arms, her little body crashing into his with all the force her excitement can muster. He lifts her easily, despite the weariness from the long flight, her tiny arms wrapping tightly around his neck.

"Hi, honey," he murmurs, pressing his lips to her head, his heart swelling in his chest.

Then, his eyes lift to meet yours. You're standing there, smiling softly at him, looking beautiful and tired all at once, your hand resting on your rounded belly. The sight of you—the woman he loves, the mother of his child, the one carrying their second—hits him harder than he thought it would. Something about seeing his family, all here, waiting for him, fills his heart to the brim. His throat tightens, and before he can stop it, he feels the burn of tears behind his eyes.

"You came to pick me up?" His voice cracks, and he immediately feels a bit ridiculous, blinking away the moisture threatening to spill over.

You nod, your smile warm and knowing as you step closer. "We couldn’t wait to see you," you say softly, reaching up to place a hand on his cheek.

He closes his eyes at your touch, leaning into it, savoring the warmth of your skin against his. Byeol wriggles in his arms, pulling back to look at him with a beaming smile.

"We missed you, Daddy," she says, her bright eyes reflecting her joy.

"I missed you too, shining star," Minho says, his voice thick with emotion.

You step into his other side, wrapping your arms around both of them, and he feels it—the peace, the love, the sense of home that he’s been missing. His arms tighten around you both, holding onto the moment, grounding himself in the comfort of your presence.

It’s not just relief from the long trip or the exhaustion of work; it’s the realization of how much his heart aches when he’s away from you two. Being here, now, with his family, everything else fades.

"I’m home," he whispers, his voice barely audible above the hum of the airport.

"And we’re so glad you are," you reply, your lips brushing against his cheek as you pull him into a deeper embrace.

For a moment, he lets himself feel it all—the happiness, the gratitude, the love. His family, his home, right here in his arms.

-

Minho is finally home.

Everything feels familiar, but there’s an undeniable shift in the air. His eyes sweep across the apartment, noticing the small yet significant changes—there’s a crib in the corner of the bedroom now, baby clothes draped over the armchair, bottles, and toys beginning to clutter spaces that once held nothing but the quiet simplicity of your shared life. A reminder that soon, his family will grow by one more.

He makes his way into the bathroom where you're standing at the sink, gently rubbing cream on your face. He watches you through the mirror for a moment, taking in how radiant you look, despite the exhaustion he knows you've been feeling. You catch his gaze and smile softly.

"Getting bigger," Minho comments, his eyes tracing your reflection as he walks up behind you.

At first, you assume he's talking about your growing belly, especially with how close you are to your due date. But when his hands slide around your front, you burst into laughter as they make their way up to cup your breasts.

"Just how you like them, huh?" you tease, glancing at him in the mirror with a grin.

He smirks, placing a sweet kiss on your neck. "Always," he murmurs against your skin. But then, with a softer smile, his hands move down to your belly, cradling it from underneath, lifting it gently as though taking some of the weight off you.

You let out a small, relieved moan, closing your eyes as you lean back into him. "Why can't you do this for me every day?" you joke, though the gratitude in your voice is clear.

It’s been months of carrying this weight, of swollen feet and sleepless nights. And yet, somehow, in these small moments with him, it all feels worth it.

Minho presses his lips to your shoulder, lingering in the warmth of your skin. "I missed you," he whispers, but it’s not just missing you physically. There’s a depth to his words, like he’s been holding his breath, and now that he’s back, he can finally exhale.

His lips trail down to the crook of your neck, and before long, you find yourself in the bedroom, lying on your back, your head resting on the pillow as he hovers above you. His movements are gentle, careful, as he enters you. Not too deep, just enough to feel you, to remind himself of what it’s like to be with you this way.

You laugh softly, a contented sound that fills the room. "I can’t see it, but it feels so good," you say, your hands tracing the lines of his tattoos, the warmth of his skin beneath your fingers.

Minho smiles, his heart swelling at your touch, your voice. He moves slowly, cautiously, not wanting to push too far, not wanting to hurt you or the baby. His hands brace beside you, propped against the mattress, keeping himself steady.

Your hands find his face, pulling him down to kiss you, and he’s lost in the sensation of your lips against his, the sound of your quiet moans urging him on. He missed this — missed the intimacy, the connection, the feeling of being one with you.

"Honey," he breathes, his voice thick with longing. He presses his lips to your neck, your chest, savoring every inch of you.

You moan his name softly, your eyes half-lidded as you look up at him, and that’s all it takes for Minho to reach his release, his body tensing as he comes, his seed spilling inside you. He pulls out just a second too late, but he doesn’t care. In this moment, all that matters is you, the life you’ve built together, and the one growing between you.

His hand comes up to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he leans down to kiss you deeply. When he finally pulls back, you’re both breathless, your eyes locked on his. There’s a vulnerability in his gaze that surprises you, and it hits you just how much this moment means to him.

The weight of his emotions threatens to overwhelm him, but Minho lets it all out, lets himself feel it all as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close.

"I love you," he whispers, his voice low and raw.

"I love you too," you reply, your voice filled with all the love you’ve carried for him through the years, through the ups and downs, the changes and the constants.

Tears slip down your cheeks as you kiss him again, both of you lost in the tenderness of the moment, the unspoken promise that no matter what, you’ll always have each other.

-

Minho doesn't have much to do around the house as you’ve already tackled most of the chores. He knows you like to keep yourself busy, but watching you move around, especially with the baby almost here, makes him a little anxious. Seeing you now, carrying a full laundry basket down the stairs, only increases his concern.

“Slow down, or you’re going to piss your pants again,” Minho teases, leaning against the doorframe.

You chuckle, setting the basket down on the carpet. “I’m doing alright, honey,” you assure him, lowering yourself onto the sofa with a small sigh.

Before you can start folding the laundry, Minho steps in and grabs the basket from you. “Nope. Not today,” he says, replacing the basket with a plate of sliced fruits. “Take a break. You can do the laundry later.”

You sigh in defeat but take the plate from him, nibbling on a piece of apple dipped in peanut butter. While you sit back and relax, Minho quickly handles the laundry, but when he returns, he catches you making another attempt to escape.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, eyebrows raised.

“I don’t want to piss my pants again,” you shout with a laugh, already halfway to the bathroom.

Minho shakes his head with a grin and waits in the living room until you come back. But when you return, your expression isn’t playful anymore—it’s tense, and there’s a weird look on your face.

"You didn’t make it to the bathroom right on time?" Minho jokes, trying to keep things light.

You sit slowly on the sofa and lean back, looking slightly uncomfortable. “I’m not sure… but I think… I just lost the mucus plug,” you say, biting your lip.

Minho feels the tension in his chest as your words sink in. Though he stays calm, he knows what this means. It’s one of the first signs that labor is near, and while he doesn’t want to alarm you, he’s on high alert now.

He moves closer, his hand gently resting on your belly. "Are you okay? Do you feel any pain?"

"My back is always in pain,” you answer with a sigh, “but I’m good for now."

"Should we get ready to go to the hospital?" Minho asks, his hand moving to rub your lower back in soothing circles.

“It could be a false alarm,” you say with a faint smile, “but just in case, yes.”

Minho nods, appreciating how calm you’re trying to stay. Luckily, thanks to your meticulous planning, the hospital bags were packed weeks ago. All he has to do is grab them from the closet and put them in the car.

"Do you want to go now?" he asks as he notices that you've been getting contractions.

You nod but don’t say anything, your expression showing you’re trying to breathe through the pain.

The drive to the hospital feels like an eternity, even though Minho is breaking every speed limit. He glances over at you, your hand resting protectively over your belly, your breathing uneven as you try to power through the contractions. He reaches out and takes your hand, squeezing it gently.

“We’re almost there,” he reassures you, his voice is calm but tight with worry.

Minutes later, you’re arrived at the hospital. Nurses are already waiting with a wheelchair, and Minho quickly helps you into it. His worry is more apparent on his face now.

"It’s going to be okay," you tell him as you squeeze his hand.

"I know," he says, flashing you a faint yet genuine smile.

Your journey through labor has begun, and Minho is right by your side, ready for whatever comes next.

-

After labor, you drift in and out of consciousness for what feels like hours. It isn’t until the nurse enters your room to check on you that you start to come around, your senses slowly gathering themselves.

“I’m sorry for waking you up,” the nurse apologizes softly, noticing your eyes flutter open.

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” you say with a weak but warm smile. Your body feels heavy, but there’s a lightness in your heart knowing what’s coming next.

Shortly after, they bring you a meal to help you regain some strength. Hospital food is always hit or miss—sometimes it’s surprisingly good, other times it’s bland. But today, the pudding is exactly what you need, a small but satisfying comfort.

Minho had to leave to handle a few things at home and will return soon with Byeol. For now, you’re alone, savoring the quiet until the nurse returns, this time pushing the bassinet small into the room. Your heart skips, and a soft smile pulls at your lips, knowing you’re about to meet your baby again.

When you first met your little one in the operating room, it had all been a blur—tears, sweat, and a whirlwind of pain. You hadn’t been able to focus through the intensity of it all. But now, as the nurse gently settles the bassinet beside your bed, the moment feels much more real.

“You might want to start with breastfeeding initiation,” the nurse suggests kindly, helping you get comfortable before carefully placing the baby in your arms.

“Thank you,” you mutter, your voice soft, eyes fixed on the tiny bundle in your arms. His little face is peaceful, his cheeks flushed and warm. As soon as the nurse leaves, it truly hits you: he’s yours. This little boy was inside of you just hours ago, and now, he’s here, cradled against your chest.

“So it’s you, huh?” you murmur in awe, brushing your finger along his tiny hand. “The one who’s been kickboxing inside mommy’s tummy?”

His tiny forehead crinkles, and your heart swells as a tear slips down your cheek. He’s so beautiful. Fragile, yet so full of life. You can’t stop smiling through the tears, utterly captivated by him. Then, he lets out a soft cry, his little face scrunching up. You remember what the nurse said about breastfeeding and shift him into position, unsure if you’re even producing milk yet.

It takes a moment, but he begins to nurse, and the world seems to still around you. You forgot how intimate this moment feels—how sacred it is to have your baby so close, sharing this connection. As he feeds, the overwhelming emotions settle deeper into your chest, filling you with love, gratitude, and an inexplicable sense of completeness.

Not long after, the quiet of the room is broken by a familiar voice.

“Mommy! Mommy!” Byeol calls, her excitement spilling into the room as she bursts through the door.

You glance up and see her little feet moving quickly toward you. “Oh, honey, you’re finally here!” you exclaim, a broad smile breaking across your face. “Mommy missed you.”

“I missed you too, Mommy!” Byeol beams up at you before holding up something in her hands—a small, stuffed bunny.

“What’s that?” you ask curiously, your heart swelling as Minho steps into the room behind her, his eyes locking onto yours. He’s holding your hand before you know it, the unspoken emotions passing between you as you both look down at the baby in your arms.

“This is for the baby!” Byeol announces proudly, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

“That’s so nice of you, honey,” you say, feeling tears prick your eyes again, this time from the tenderness of the moment. “Come sit next to Mommy.”

You shift over on the bed to make room for Byeol, and Minho helps her climb up. Once she’s seated beside you, her gaze locks onto her baby brother, her little hands twitching, eager but hesitant to touch him.

“He’s so tiny, Mommy,” she giggles, eyes wide with wonder.

“Do you want to hold him?” you ask softly.

Byeol glances at Minho as if seeking permission, then nods at you, her smile growing. Together, you and Minho help her hold the baby carefully, cradling his weight between her small arms and your supportive hands.

“Meet your little brother, Haneul,” you whisper, introducing the two of them for the very first time.

Byeol’s eyes light up as she gazes down at him, the gentle awe never leaving her face. After a moment, she bravely reaches out and pokes his chubby cheek. “He’s so squishy!” she declares, making you laugh softly.

“You can kiss him if you want,” you encourage.

Without hesitation, Byeol leans forward and plants a sweet kiss on Haneul’s cheek, giggling as she pulls back. “He’s so cute, Mommy,” she whispers, resting her head close to him, her protective little arms still cradling him carefully.

Your heart feels like it might burst at the sight of them together—your children. You squeeze Minho’s hand, overcome by the love you feel for your family. As you turn to look at him, tears glisten in your eyes, but they’re happy tears—grateful, joyful tears.

Minho smiles softly, a quiet understanding in his eyes. He leans down and presses a kiss to the top of your head, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

In this moment, everything feels perfect. Your family has grown, and with this new little life, your world feels more whole than ever before.

-

For the rest of the day, both your families come to visit you at the hospital, offering congratulations and warmth to the new addition to your family. As the evening settles in, the Oddinary arrive, right after the tattoo parlor has closed for the day. Their familiar presence fills the room, bringing laughter, chatter, and of course, food. They even bring pizzas to celebrate the occasion.

As Sujin gently holds little Haneul in her arms, she studies him with an appraising look while Felix peers over her shoulder in awe.

“Babies are ugly, but this one…” Sujin starts, narrowing her eyes playfully as she shifts Haneul in her arms, “…this one is beautiful. Props to you, girl!” She flashes you a proud, almost approving smile.

“Thank you,” you manage to respond, cheeks flushed as you take another bite of pizza, appreciating the warmth of her compliment.

Minho, feeling somewhat left out, leans back in his chair and shoots Sujin a mock offended look. “No props to me?”

Sujin doesn’t miss a beat, throwing him a teasing glare. “She’s the one who carried him for nine months.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Which is kind of unfair,” you add. “I carried him for nine months, and he came out looking just like his dad.”

Minho had never been overly concerned with whether the baby was a boy or girl—he’d love them no matter what. But when he saw Haneul for the first time, he was struck by just how much the baby resembled him. It had been a delightful surprise, one he hadn’t expected but welcomed wholeheartedly.

Felix, ever curious, rubs a tattooed finger gently over Haneul’s cheek, marveling at how soft the baby’s skin is. But Haneul’s reaction is immediate—his tiny face scrunches up, and he starts to cry.

Felix’s eyes go wide in surprise, his hands freezing in place. “Why did you touch the baby with your greasy hands?” Sujin hisses at him, swatting at his arm.

“I— I didn’t mean to!” Felix stammers, holding up his hands in surrender, his face a mix of guilt and panic.

“It’s okay,” you laugh, waving off the commotion. “It’s about time I feed him anyway.” You finish your slice of pizza quickly and hold out your arms, signaling for Sujin to hand Haneul back to you.

Sujin carefully places the still-crying baby in your arms, and as you begin to unbutton the front of your shirt, everyone else takes it as their cue to leave the room.

“We’ll give you some privacy,” Sujin announces with a smirk before gathering the rest of the Oddinary. Felix, still looking slightly guilty, waves awkwardly as he trails behind the others.

Once Minho sent everyone off on their way, he takes a minute to call his parents to check on Byeol. She’ll be staying with them until you’re discharged from the hospital. When he returns, he’s greeted by the sight of you cradling Haneul in your arms, a soft, loving expression on your face. In this moment, with the room bathed in the gentle glow of the hospital lights, you look absolutely radiant to him. He’s struck by how serene and beautiful you seem, completely immersed in your maternal role.

Without a word, Minho moves to tidy up the room, throwing away the empty pizza boxes and soda cans before washing his hands. Then, he comes to sit beside you on the bed, leaning in to get a closer look at your son.

“He’s so beautiful,” you whisper, your eyes glancing up at Minho with a smile.

“He has your eyes, your lips…” you murmur as you gently caress Haneul’s cheek with your knuckle. You pause, then give his tiny nose a playful boop. “Even your nose.”

A wide smile spreads across your face as you bring Haneul a little closer, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. “I think I’ve fallen in love…” you admit, your voice filled with quiet wonder.

Minho watches you closely, recognizing that you’ve been wearing that same smile ever since you first laid eyes on Haneul. He knows he feels the same, though he’s always been better at concealing his emotions. Still, he can’t hide the warmth that spreads through his chest as he watches you with your son.

Just then, Haneul begins to coo softly, his tiny hand rubbing at his face, his features scrunching up again as if he’s about to cry.

“You want Daddy, mmh?” you guess softly, glancing up at Minho before carefully handing Haneul over to him.

Minho quickly sits beside you, taking Haneul into his tattooed arms. It’s only the second time he’s held his son today, the first being the moment of skin-to-skin contact just after Haneul was born. As Minho holds him now, he’s struck again by how small and delicate the baby feels in his arms.

You wrap your arm around Minho’s waist, resting your chin gently on his shoulder. Together, you both gaze down at Haneul, your hearts overflowing with love and gratitude for this little life you’ve brought into the world.

You press a soft kiss to Minho’s neck and murmur, “We made that.”

Minho turns his head to look at you, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. “We made it,” he echoes softly.

As Minho holds Haneul close, a sense of responsibility settles over him. The weight of being a father to two now, of being a husband and the head of a growing family—it all becomes real in this quiet moment. He knows that he must strive to be the best father, the best husband, the best version of himself for you, for Byeol, and now for Haneul. And as he looks back at you, the love he feels for you both is unmistakable, filling him with an unshakable sense of purpose.

-

It's another day in Minho’s life, except that his routine has shifted just a bit, revolving around the new addition to the family. For Minho to keep up with the tattoo parlor during the day, you insisted on taking care of baby Haneul during the night, allowing him the rest he needs. Yet, Minho can’t help but sacrifice some of his sleep to wake up earlier than usual, cherishing these moments with his newborn son.

As always, he begins his morning by cuddling up to you. He presses a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek before slowly slipping out of bed. His first stop is Haneul’s crib, where the baby sleeps soundly, his tiny mouth making faint sucking motions as if he’s dreaming of breastfeeding. Minho smiles at the sight—how peaceful, how precious.

After washing up, Minho moves to prepare a bath for Haneul. His hands, trained from years of precise work as a tattoo artist, move skillfully as he fills the tub. His calm and steady touch proves invaluable during moments like this. Even when Haneul wakes up, startled and crying from the disturbance, Minho remains calm.

"It’ll be done soon," Minho murmurs softly, his voice soothing as he bathes his son.

Once Haneul is clean and dressed, Minho already has a bottle of breastmilk prepared to settle him back down. He cradles him gently in his arms, swaying and lulling him back to sleep as he feeds, planting a gentle kiss on his son’s cheek. Soon enough, Haneul’s little eyes flutter closed again, and Minho carefully places him back into the crib, brushing a hand over his soft hair before moving on with his morning routine.

Minho heads to the kitchen, starting with a cup of coffee to fuel the rest of his tasks. He waters the plants, then begins cooking breakfast. His steady rhythm in the kitchen feels like second nature now—cooking for the family has become one of his favorite parts of the day. He doesn’t forget to prepare Byeol’s lunch either, tucking in a little note with a doodle like he always does.

Just as he’s finishing up, you emerge from the bedroom, looking sleepy but determined to join him for breakfast.

"You stopped asking what's for breakfast," Minho remarks with a smile as he plates the food, setting it on the table for you.

"At this point, I’ll just eat whatever you give me," you reply, a sleepy smile tugging at your lips.

Minho chuckles, leaning down to place a kiss on your temple. It’s these little moments, the small exchanges that feel so intimate and warm, that fill him with a sense of contentment.

Soon, Byeol comes bounding into the dining room, full of energy and eager to tell you both about her excitement for school. As she slides into her chair, she chatters on about her favorite subject and what she can’t wait to learn today. Minho listens, glancing over at you with a small smile, feeling like these moments of normalcy are truly where life happens.

When it’s time to leave for school, Byeol rushes over to give you a big hug and kiss before heading to Haneul’s crib to say her goodbyes to her little brother. Minho watches the scene with pride swelling in his chest. He’s always been amazed by how naturally Byeol has taken to being a big sister.

Minho doesn’t leave without his own goodbye. He pulls you close, pressing a quick but loving kiss to your lips.

“See you soon,” he murmurs softly, his forehead brushing against yours for a moment before he stands, guiding Byeol towards the door.

"Bye, bye, Mommy!" Byeol chirps, waving as Minho holds the door open for her.

"Have a great day at school, my shining star!" you call back, waving with a smile that’s tired but full of love.

As Minho buckles Byeol into the car and starts the drive to school, he finds himself reflecting on how different his life is now. It’s not the grand gestures or the monumental events that have shaped him, but rather the small, quiet moments like this—breakfast with his family, goodbyes before school, the peaceful early morning routine with his son.

These little slices of heaven, day after day, are what fill his heart with gratitude. And in these moments, he knows there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

-

Motherhood is exhausting.

It’s not just the lack of sleep or the endless list of physical discomforts. There’s the emotional rollercoaster no one warns you about—the way joy and sadness seem to come in waves, sometimes crashing over you when you least expect it. After Haneul was born, you were overwhelmed by the strangeness of no longer carrying him in your belly, missing the sensation of him kicking even as you held him in your arms. It’s a bittersweet adjustment.

But Minho makes it easier. He’s always there, making sure you never feel alone. He doesn't hover, but his presence is steady, and the little gestures of love—his way of checking in on you, or simply wrapping you up in his arms—give you a sense of comfort. Today is no different.

As you change your clothes, Minho catches you in the act, watching from the edge of the bed. You’re in the middle of swapping out a blouse, frustrated as your breast milk has leaked through again.

"You look good today," Minho says casually, a sly grin forming on his lips as he admires you.

You chuckle, shaking your head. “I smell like a mix of sweat, barf, and diaper disasters.”

His smirk is playful. “Exactly my type.”

You finish buttoning your blouse and turn to face him. Despite everything your body’s been through—stretch marks, swollen feet, exhaustion—he looks at you like he always has, with a mixture of admiration and affection that never wavers. It’s comforting.

"Come here," he beckons, arms outstretched in invitation.

You don’t need to be told twice. You move into his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he pulls you close. His lips find yours, a slow, affectionate kiss that lingers, melting away the day’s fatigue.

"I guess you also smell like desperation," Minho teases as he places a kiss on your neck, his voice a low murmur against your skin.

You gently slap his chest in protest, half-heartedly. "You’re so annoying."

He only smirks and kisses you again, this time more softly. It’s moments like these that remind you why he’s your partner through all of this—his humor, his warmth, his ability to make you feel like yourself even when motherhood makes you feel anything but.

"How about I make lunch?" he asks, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "What do you feel like?"

"Hmm... I’m starving," you sigh dramatically, leaning your head against his chest. "A big sandwich would be perfect."

"Big sandwich, got it," he replies with ease.

"And make sure you add lots of love." You laugh softly, trying to lighten the mood.

"Then it’s going to taste sour," he jokes, his hands sliding down to your waist.

You laugh, enjoying the easy banter. "I don’t mind that at all."

Minho kisses your cheek and makes a move to get up, but you tighten your arms around him, not ready to let him go just yet.

"No, stay," you whine, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. "Let’s stay like this for a bit longer."

He chuckles softly and gives in, holding you closer. His tattooed arms wrap securely around you, the warmth of his body grounding you as the two of you sit quietly in the calm of the moment.

-

It’s surprising how often your baby boy needs to be fed throughout the day. As Haneul stirs in the other room, his soft cries reach your ears, and you let out a tired sigh.

“Alright, alright, give mommy a second,” you murmur, hurriedly unbuttoning your shirt. “You’re just as impatient as your daddy, huh?”

Minho enters the room again, Byeol trailing close behind him. She immediately clambers onto the bed, settling next to you and watching her baby brother feed.

"Honey, do you mind if I go out for a bit?" Minho asks, grabbing his wallet from the bedside table.

"Where to?" you ask, opening your arm for Byeol to snuggle into.

"Need to grab something from the convenience store," he answers, pulling on his jacket.

"Okay," you say, a bit distracted by Haneul feeding.

"I won't be long," he assures you, walking over to plant a kiss on the top of your head and giving Byeol a quick tickle, which sends her into giggles.

Once Minho leaves, Byeol settles beside you, gently playing with Haneul’s tiny fingers.

“Mommy, the baby’s here now,” she says thoughtfully, her small fingers brushing over Haneul’s tiny hands. “Does that mean you’ll go back to work soon?”

“Well, yes,” you answer carefully, “but not too soon.”

She looks up at you with wide, curious eyes. “Can mommy stay home every day?”

Her innocent question tugs at your heart. You hadn’t realized how much she missed these moments with just the two of you. You blink away the sudden sting of tears and stroke her hair gently.

“There’s nothing I’d love more than staying home with you and your brother, but there are people out there who need mommy’s help,” you explain softly. “And if I can help them, I should, right?”

Byeol contemplates this for a moment, her young mind trying to understand the bigger picture. Finally, she nods. “Right.”

You lean in and press a soft kiss to her forehead as you say, “But no matter what, mommy will always be here—driving you to school, watching your soccer practices, getting burgers at the drive-thru, painting our nails together.”

She beams at that, her smile making your heart swell and you continue with the most important thing you want her to know, “And mommy will always love you. So much.”

“I love you too, mommy,” she whispers, resting her head against your chest.

You hold her close, savoring the tender moment. “You’ll always be mommy’s brightest star.”

When Byeol finally drifts to sleep beside you and Haneul’s feeding comes to an end, you find yourself unable to move without disturbing them. Minho comes back into the room, his smile softening when he sees you snuggled with both children.

“I’ll carry her to bed,” he whispers, gently lifting Byeol in his arms and carrying her off to her room.

Relieved, you carefully place Haneul in his crib, your body aching from the long day. As Minho returns, he notices you massaging the back of your neck and quickly steps behind you to help, his strong hands working out the tension in your shoulders.

“Honey, I know you’re tired, but...” he begins, his voice low and soft, “Can we talk for a few minutes?”

You tense at his words, immediately wondering if something’s wrong. “Depends on what you want to talk about,” you joke, trying to mask your unease. “Is it about a secret gambling debt or a dead body you keep in the trunk of your car?”

Minho laughs, burying his face in your neck. “Close, but not quite.”

Curious, you follow him to the kitchen, your tired mind racing with possibilities. It’s not until you see the cake sitting on the table that you realize—it’s his birthday. And you forgot.

"Oh no, it’s your birthday," you whisper, feeling a wave of guilt crash over you.

"It’s not yet," Minho reassures, pulling you into his arms. His smile is soft, teasing, but without any hint of disappointment.

You bury your face in his chest, tears of exhaustion and guilt welling up in your eyes. "I’m so sorry," you sob, embarrassed that you, of all people, forgot his birthday.

Minho holds you tight, his hands gently stroking your back. "There’s nothing to be sorry about, honey," he murmurs against your hair. "I just wanted to celebrate with you."

He tilts your chin up, wiping away your tears with his thumb. "Are you really going to cry on my birthday?" he asks with a playful smirk.

You sniffle, managing a small smile. "No."

Together, you light the candles, your heart swelling with gratitude for the way he handles moments like this—with patience, understanding, and love. When the clock strikes midnight, you cheerily announce, "It's officially your birthday!"

Minho closes his eyes and makes a wish, his hand still holding yours. After he blows out the candles, you wrap your arms around him in a tight hug.

"Happy birthday, honey," you say, planting a long, chaste kiss on his lips and when you pull back, you softly apologize, "I’m sorry I don’t have a gift for you, yet."

"You’ve given me more than I could ever ask for," Minho whispers, pulling you even closer.

His hands cup your face, and you can see the depth of his emotions in his eyes. "You gave me a family, two beautiful children... I can’t thank you enough for giving me this life."

His words are simple but filled with so much emotion that tears well up in your eyes again. You kiss him softly, feeling the weight of the moment settle over you—the love, the gratitude, the life you’ve built together.

"Oh, honey," you reply, your voice trembling as you cradle his face.

Minho kisses you again, slower this time, savoring every moment. "I promise I’ll always make you happy," he whispers, his forehead resting against yours.

"You already do, Minho," you whisper back. "Every single day."

His lips press against yours once more as he mutters, "I love you."

"I love you," you reply, your heart aching with happiness.

He kisses you again, the moment full of tenderness and gratitude but when he pulls back, he gives you a cheeky grin. “So... can I blow you next?”

You laugh, rolling your eyes at his predictable humor. “Be careful, or you’ll be a father of three on your next birthday.”

Minho smirks, pulling you closer. “I'm okay with that.”

As you hold him, encased in the warmth of his love, you realize once again that no matter how hard motherhood or life gets, you could only do this with him by your side. With Minho, you can weather any storm, face any challenge, and still feel like you’re the luckiest person in the world.

With him, you can do anything.

-

The parlor has just closed when the Oddinary guys barge in, loud and excited, with a birthday cake in hand. Minho knows he can’t stop them—even if he wanted to. Once they set their minds to something, there's no talking them out of it. After all, they’re his family, long before he made and built his own.

He sighs, watching as they gather in the living room, the cake’s candles glowing warmly. Felix takes charge, lighting them with a wide grin. Minho leans back on the sofa, not exactly thrilled to be the center of attention on a day he prefers to keep low-key. The only reason he even humored celebrating last night was because he didn’t want you to feel bad for almost forgetting.

You plop down next to him, startling him out of his thoughts. Without a word, you hand him a fresh bottle of beer, and he gladly accepts it, his arm naturally wrapping around you, pulling you close to his side.

The noise in the room fades into the background as you nestle against him, the warmth of your presence grounding him. Your eyes flick to Sujin, who’s sitting across from you, gently cradling baby Haneul in her arms. You smile softly, a thought forming in your mind.

“I don’t want to impose, but Sujin...” you begin, your tone casual yet filled with meaning. “I think you’re ready.”

Sujin’s brow furrows in confusion as she shifts Haneul slightly, the tattoo on her neck straining as she leans forward. “Ready for what?”

Minho chuckles lightly, his voice laced with amusement. “You know what she meant,” he quips, shooting a playful smirk at Sujin.

Her husband, seated beside her, grins. “As for me, I’m just waiting for her.”

Sujin’s head snaps toward him, her eyes widening slightly in surprise. A slow smile begins to bloom on her face, softening her features as she glances back down at Haneul.

Minho shifts his focus to his daughter, Byeol, who’s sitting on the carpeted floor, caught between Felix and Yoon as they try to win her over. These two are in an animated debate, vying for her favor.

“Do you like Auntie Yoon more or Uncle Felix more?” Yoon asks, her voice filled with childlike curiosity, blissfully unaware of the intensity behind the question.

Minho knows this is one of those questions none of them is ever truly prepared to hear the answer to.

Byeol giggles, taking her time as if she’s carefully considering her options. After a long minute, she finally answers, “Uncle Felix!”

“I knew it!” Felix cheers in triumph, throwing his arms around Byeol and pulling her onto his lap.

Yoon, feigning disbelief, shakes her head. “No, I think Byeol isn’t taking enough time to think. I demand a retake!”

Felix, quick to defend his newfound title, presses his hands over Byeol’s ears. “No, you’re just jealous. Boooo!” he teases, sticking his tongue out and making silly faces at Yoon.

Minho fights the urge to smile, watching them act childish as usual. This kind of chaos—this kind of love—is something he cherishes, even if he’d never admit it out loud. Then, he turns his head, his gaze falling on you.

You haven’t changed. Not really. But at the same time, you have. It’s something subtle, something only he can see. A kind of growth and quiet strength that has always been there but now shines even brighter.

Some things will never change, though. Like the way you’re his anchor, the force that holds him down and keeps him steady. You’re the source of his strength and his love, the one person he trusts with every part of himself—and he knows you feel the same about him. And best of all, you’ll always be his.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” you ask, sensing the intensity in his gaze.

The noise around them swirls, but for Minho, in this moment, it’s just the two of you. He shakes his head slightly, a small, amused smile tugging at his lips.

“Nothing,” he murmurs, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips, letting the kiss convey what words can’t.

With the new addition to his family, the house feels crowded—maybe even too crowded. He glances around the room, taking in the sight of his daughter laughing with Felix and Yoon, his son sleeping peacefully in Sujin’s arms, and the people who have been by his side since the beginning. His home is growing. It’s crowded, noisy, chaotic—but it’s home.

For now, this is enough. This is everything. This is home.

-

Support my writings by kindly reblog, comment or consider tipping me on my ko-fi!

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[xoxoells]

Single dad ghost and sweet little baker reader! (it works out trust me)

Single dad simon who has to get emergency cupcakes for his daughter’s class party, the six-year-old demanding that she’ll become the “coolest girl in class” and if she didn’t get her cupcakes, daddy would be her third favorite person. oh the horror!

And so, simon has no choice but to run down to the new bakery that opened up down the block, his nose flooded with the smell of icing and sugar the moment he hear the door chime from his arrival. 

“Hello?” He calls, wondering if anyone’s in the bakery. 

He turns around to leave, before you call out after him, apologizing and telling him that you were baking in the back. Not that simon could care less, he was focused on you. The way the apron hugged the fat of your body, plump from your years of working at the bakery. The way your bair looked in that distressed bum, practically falling apart from running to the counter. Most importantly, the cream and frosting covering your face. Simon began to wonder if his frosting could- 

“Sir? Sorry if you didnt hear me. What would you like today?” you chirped, cutting off his filthy thoughts. “Just some cupcakes. for my girl.” Girl? must be a lucky lady, you thought, untill he whipped out a picture on his phone, a badly drawn unicorn cupcake that his daughter drew, covered in pompoms and glitter.

You tried to contain your smile as you said that it was no problem, and you could make them in a jiff. Simon watches as you fill in his order, and tell him what to do when he comes to pick it up. All of that goes over his head though, when you say “You seem like such a good father” Simon grins. Wouldnt you like to know sweetheart, maybe you could be her new mother. “well, she’s only got me since her mum ran away. I do what i can” Simon says, knowing that he’s left that imprint im your head.

Simon leaves your bakery, mind heating up like an oven from what he could, no, will do to you. 

“Who was that hottie?” Your co worker says ,appearing from the back. “No clue, but i hope that kid wants a new mom.”

[suksatoru]

Pieces of Us.

in the midst of all the chaos and confusion in his life - tomura shigaraki manages to fall in love. — shigarakixcollege!student reader. no quriks au!

Tomura Shigaraki has never been attracted to someone before. Simply put, he's never found anyone interesting. He didn't have any prior personal relationships with a single person, and he truly believed there wasn't anyone out there worth his time.

He's been kicking the same small rock on the sidewalk for a while now—its sharp edges dug into the bottom of his boot with every kick, and he watched it skitter a few feet ahead before coming to a stop in front of him every time.

The bell above him rings, and he enters the familiar cafe with a huff. He pulls down the thin winter hat atop his head and grits his teeth in discomfort. The snow outside was agonizingly cold—a terrible combination with his dry skin, which was only becoming even more irritated by the falling snow.

He waits in line quietly. There are kids in line in front of him talking to the person at the register happily, giggling at something they say. Tomura tries to drown out the conversation around him in hopes of finding some peace in his own mind.

This specific cafe served their hot chocolate all year round—a simple drink he considered perfection. It was creamy and had just the right amount of whipped cream, a warm treat that soothed his skin during these unbearably cold winter times.

How weird was it? Hot chocolate, of all things, was the one to make him feel comfortable in his own skin.

It's been made by the same, gruff old man for as long as he'd known. The man knew how to make it perfectly. Tomura never spoke to the old man, but he had designated him to be his hot chocolate maker.

He's about to be next, but he hears an awfully cheerful voice softly saying, Have a good Christmas!, and he finally lifts his head to look at who would be serving him his hot chocolate tonight.

You were pretty—oddly enough, that was the first thought that crossed Tomura's mind. He shakes off the notion before the realization sets in—a new employee. God, you wouldn't know how to make the stupid drink, would you?

"Hello! What can I get started for you today, sir?" You ask sweetly, sending him a welcoming smile as Tomura merely blinks back.

Shit. Now what?

Your smile transforms into a confused one as you tilt your head curiously, trying to catch a better look at the man under the dark hat.

"Ah, we have a sale going on for Christmas! Two cinnamon sweet rolls for—"

"I'll just have the hot chocolate."

The bite in his rough voice is undeniable, but your smile doesn't waver the slightest bit. Instead, you click a few buttons on the register in front of you before pulling out a pen from your dark green apron—you looked nice in it.

"And what size would you like that in?" You ask, scribbling his order down as he croaks medium, something burning in his cheeks as he says the word.

"Ok. Have a seat, and I'll bring your drink right out." You say gently, gesturing to the empty tables towards the right before turning on your heel to begin his order.

He doesn't say anything. He makes a beeline to one of the tables, opting for one in the back of the cafe as he tugs his hat even further down—blaming how hot he felt on the cafe—warm fires must be set in the kitchen somewhere for cooking stuff. Is that why his hands felt clammy despite the freezing snow outside?

He waits quietly, staring at the floor as he wonders when you'll come back. Should he say thank you when you hand him the drink? He's never thanked his servers before, but... it seemed like he needed to right now. Yes, he was going to thank you for the drink. Maybe even try to make small talk.

Too lost in his thoughts, he doesn't notice you walking towards him with his drink in hand—he looks up at the sound of footsteps, the fairy lights hanging on the cafe walls illuminating your figure—you looked awfully like an angel in that light.

"Here you go! Please let me know if you need anything else, ok?" You say, hands clasped in front of you as you peer down at him with a smile.

He stares back with parted lips.

You wait for a response—his lips move as if he wants to say something—but, well, nothing comes out—

"Uh—um—t-thanks. Bet it tastes shitty though."

Tomura's own eyes widen at the words that leave his mouth, absolutely mortified.

I didn't mean it—sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry.

But he clamps his mouth shut—not trusting himself to say another word as he looks away in utter embarrassment—contemplating whether or not he should simply make a run for it.

You blink once in surprise, twice, and then you laugh.

It's such an odd sensation—the feeling in his chest. And it all started with your stupid laugh.

He's trying to stay calm and tries to make a clear decision, but he can't. Not when every single possible alarm in his mind had been set off and was screaming at him to get away—to turn the whole place to dust and never come back—but he stays seated, watching you at a loss for words as your laughter finally calms. You rub the tears of laughter lining your lash line as you send him a grin.

"You won't believe this, but this morning I messed up a hot chocolate order so badly. One of my coworkers left out a sauce bottle from a breakfast sandwich they were making, and I totally thought it was the sweet type of syrup—you know, the one you pour over a milkshake?"

You're sitting across from him after a few minutes—still talking.

How long did he sit there for? Maybe an hour. There were no other employees there since it was the end of the night, only you and him. Simply put, he was absolutely terrified of you.

You, who sat down in front of him and began a conversation so friendly that he seems to forget how to speak when you ask him what he's doing all alone on Christmas.

"I could say the same for you." He mumbles, finally taking a sip of the drink in front of him as his eyes widen at the taste—it was good. You did well.

Your confusion is palpable with the way your delicate brows pull together at his reaction before you let out a quiet gasp.

"Did I put the hot sauce in it by accident? Oh, I'm so sorry—"

"What? No, no, that's not it. It's, uh, pretty good. So you should take a deep breath." He mumbles, unsure of what else to say as his entire body stiffens when his leg gently bumps against yours under the small table.

You don't even notice, sending him an embarrassed smile as you press your hand against your cheek with a light laugh.

"Sorry! I really like this job, and I don't want to mess it up, you see."

Tomura finds himself conflicted—never in his life has he met someone like you. So outspoken—so nice. It feels terribly wrong—someone innocent like you shouldn't be talking to someone as tainted as him. But...

"You didn't answer my question."

You lift your hand off your cheek, sending him a confused glance as he grunts, taking a quick glance at your name tag, which just had to be rested so perfectly above your breasts. Great.

"I asked what you were doing alone on Christmas, y/n." He repeats as he watches you carefully. He was curious, and he quickly found out it wasn't hard to talk to you like he'd expected it to be. He didn't feel so nervous anymore.

"Oh! Well, college is pretty expensive for me, so I take extra shifts. And I don't have anyone helping me pay for it, so..." You say sheepishly, and Tomura quickly realizes he probably shouldn't have asked anything at all—he winces at the small frown on your lips as you look towards the ground, finally tearing your gaze away from him.

"What about you?" You quip, and Tomura shrugs.

"I have no one to spend it with." He states—plain and simply. He immediately regrets saying those words the second they leave his lips because the look on your face is so wounded that he can't help but quickly shake his head.

"But I like it that way, so—"

"No one should be alone on Christmas!" You cry out, slumping in your chair with a frown as you tap your chin in thought.

"But I said I like it—and so do you!"

"Idea!" You say, snapping your fingers with a grin so wide that Tomura barely blinks before you're out of your chair—running back through the employee doors as you yell a cheerful Be right back! over your shoulder

You come back after a minute without your apron—instead, you're clad in a winter coat, gloves, and fuzzy hat atop your head. Tomura feels that same unusual sensation deep within him—like a match being lit—merely the beginning of a raging fire.

"Come, come!" You urge, tugging him out of his chair as you pull him outside the cafe.

He tosses the empty cup in the trash, and his heartbeat quickens as he feels an unfamiliar thrill run through his body. He likes this feeling. That was what he decided on as you locked up the shop, tucking the metal keys into the pocket of your coat before turning to Tomura with that smile.

"Come on! We have ten minutes to get there in time!" You say, The cold air in front of you is clouding as Tomura tries not to make his surprise visible when you grab his gloved hand in yours and tug him down the snowy street"—clear destination in mind as you take direct twists and turns towards the center of town.

"Where are we going?" He says, shivering as the snow around him falls freely. It didn't feel as cold as it did before—it couldn't. Not when his whole body was burning beside yours, because you just had to go and hold his hand so tightly—like he needed the extra support from you to walk right.

"It's a surprise." You say, and Tomura felt the foreign feeling of his lips twitching as he fought a small smile.

He didn't know where you were leading him, but deep down, he was excited. What could it be?

He gets his answer when he cranes his head up to look at the tall tree in front of him—it was hard to see it in the dark, but it was easily the largest Christmas tree he'd ever seen.

"Midnight is when it lights up—any second now." You whisper, smiling as you look around at the dark trees surrounding the two of you in an enclosed circle. They were all going to light up—you came here to watch the beautiful show for free almost every night. It truly was a spectacular sight.

"This will light up?" He asks, genuine fascination in his raspy voice as you pipe up at his show of interest.

"Yeah! Just watch, I promise it'll be worth it." You say, turning to the tree in front of you while excitedly tapping your foot against the ground—he wants to laugh at your funny little antic—but he can't, because your eyes are practically twinkling as you hear the gentle drum of the lights powering on.

He turns just in time to catch the sight—he's blinded for a moment when they turn on, but he's blinking them back open at the sound of your cheerful laughter—finding himself surrounded by lights.

The colors swirled in front of his eyes—vivid hues that shone down on the two of you with their bright colors.

He's quiet, eyes wide as he takes in the trees—their once towering forms seemed to embrace the two of you in their warm glow—he felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight. He'd never seen something so grand—

"Do you like it?"

You're cupping your hands and catching the falling snow, throwing it up with a playful laugh as Tomura slowly nods his head.

"Yeah... this is nice."

"Just nice?" You tease, he says, smiling as he turns his head away. His cheeks were pink—he hoped you would believe it was because of the cold weather. But he knew better—he blamed you for them.

"It's great. Really. T-Thank you." He says, his voice barely above a whisper—but you caught it, nonetheless.

~

He didn't know when he walked out of his dark hideout—it wasn't too late, but he usually wasn't out at this time anyways. He just wanted to check the town square—just a quick peek, no harm in that, right?

Right?

He finds you there that night, patiently sitting in front of the tree with your eyes closed. You were waiting for the clock to strike midnight so you could be once again amazed by the light show.

He's standing a few meters away, watching as you tilt your head towards the falling snow with a blissful smile on your face.

He doesn't understand the newfound courage he feels, ignoring the warnings telling him to go back to the hideout and go to sleep—his feet seem to have a mind of their own as they follow the direction of his thumping heart. He sits beside you quietly, watching your eyes peek open and gleam with recognition.

"Suppose it was nice enough to come see again." He says his voice was slightly muffled by the thicker scarf he wore today—but still, you heard it.

"I never did get your name."

Tomura Shigaraki. All-time criminal who never showed his face to the public. Known for his destructive nature—someone who deserved no kindness. No love. Yet you offered it anyway.

"My name is Tenko."

You hum, licking your snow-coated lips as you repeat his name once. Twice.

He realizes he loves his name best when you say it.

[sluttyminghao]

alicia helpppp ive been stupendously hrny… and all i could think of is svt eating food off you 😫 i need to hear your thoughts.. what food do members prefer? chocolate? whipped cream? … body shots?? and what body prt would make them go crazy 😵‍💫 ok that is all i shall crawl into my shell again..

seungcheol: i think the food he would love to eat off you is whipped cream! he'd love the sweetness of it paired with dragging his tongue across your body. the body part that would make him go crazy is the thighs

jeonghan: the food he would love eating off of your body would be small pieces of fruit like strawberries! he'd just enjoy it way too much tbh, and would love to eat them off your chest, because yk why

joshua: kinda weird but I think he'd enjoy licking honey off your body. yes it's sticky, but is it really a good night if you don't come away from it sticky? he'd really enjoy your inner thighs when it comes to licking honey off

junhui: I feel like he'd enjoy seeing ice cream drip down your body. again, probably a lil sticky but it wouldn't be a problem with Sir Lick a Lot hanging around. he would enjoy eating this off your abdomen, I think

soonyoung: a little more common, I think he'd enjoy sushi. there's lots of variety in sushi, so it would be exciting for him to sensually nibble these off your body. i think he wouldn't have a preference for body parts to be honest

wonwoo: the sugary hit of a marshmallow drives something primal in wonwoo when he eats it off your body. the sugar gives him all the energy he needs to fuck you later. he'd enjoy popping these off your neck, considering he can leave hickies there too

jihoon: the most common, I think he'd enjoy chocolate syrup, the sweetness combined with your own sweet flavour drives him insane and he'd go the most crazy when he gets to lick this off your chest/tits

seokmin: I feel like he'd try to be sophisticated by using prosciutto. the slightly salty tang would mix with your own and drive him crazy! honestly he'd be happy with any body part, they all make him cum uncontrollably

mingyu: dude would be into temperature play and be simple and use ice cubes. loves seeing how your body reacts to the temperature and would drag it all over your body, but focuses a lot on your pubic bone

minghao: he'd go all out and suggest using oysters. i mean if that's what he wants right? the salty flavour would offset your body and with oysters being considered somewhat of an aphrodisiac, he wouldn't be able to keep his hands off you.

seungkwan: similar to above, I think seungkwan would enjoy something simple like caramel sauce. it would have to be a thick sauce though, likes to make a point of dragging his tongue through it while he teases your thighs with it.

vernon: a bit odd, but I can see him trying this with different types of soft cheeses, teasing you heavily as he does so, slow and sensual. he'd love doing this on your arms and working his way to your chest

chan: I feel like he'd enjoy using gummy candies, dragging the sticky treat over your body and then licking his way over it afterwards to create tension. he'd love doing this all over your body, but particularly on your chest.

[ilovetvgirlmorethanyou]

PAIRINGS! ✩ — pornstar!gojo x pornstar!fem!reader

WARNINGS! ✩ — sucking d, porn stuff, inappropriate use of food!, masturbation

WHIPPED CREAM

been thinking about that FINNEEEASSSS pornstar!gojo my goodness

everyone knows the infamous gojo that has been taking over every single mom’s computer screens. the one fucking not only one, not only two, but up to three people AT THE SAME DAMN TIME!

after posting a particularly boring video with a boring girl, he starts to feel a little hungry and decides to go to the cafe across from his store. when he walks in he looks around and sees way too many guys than normal sitting around and in line.

usually there’d be tops 3 guys and they all would have been dragged by their girlfriends to go to the nearest cafe to drink coffee and have a little fun date. gojo begins to pull out his wallet as he walks up to the cashier and waits for her to turn around. you smile in his face as you tilt your head.

“sir?” you ask as you wave your hand in front of his face as he seemed to have been lost in space. “are you alright?”

he blinks out of the state he was in and scratches his neck. he swore he’s recognized you from somewhere but he couldn’t place it.

“yeah yeah no i’m alright could i get a hot chocolate with extra whipped cream?” you nod at his order but then snicker a little.

“you a little kid or something?” you ask and he furrows his eyebrows as he smirks a little. he knows you’re attractive and are probably the reason for the sudden presence of testosterone in the cafe.

“you don’t like whipped cream?” he asks and you shake your head as you motion him to swipe his card.

“love it, just maybe not on hot chocolate”

your answer being as ambiguous as it was he simply raised an eyebrow but shrugged. he walked away with his hot chocolate as another customer walked up to your register and blushed at the sight of you. he gave you one last quick look before leaving the cafe to go back to his apartment.

at the end of the night, for the first time in a long time gojo was by himself scrolling through random things on his computer. he groaned as he realized he didn’t have any pussy to satisfy him tonight.

he remembered however he could go on live and jerk off but it wouldn’t have been as fun. so he decided to have his own private sesh and scroll through porn sites.

SUCKING DICK WITH WHIPPED CREAM

he squints at the title as he attempts to recall whipped cream being mentioned earlier the day because it was so recent. he shrugged and proceeds to open the video as he pulls his pants down and gets comfortable.

however, as soon as the video begins in pov mode it jumps to a familiar woman on her knees giggling as she grabs some random dick and gojo tilts his head slightly as he starts to slowly jerk off. he feels his length aching as he begins to harden seeing how well the woman’s sucking the man’s cock.

suddenly, the woman grabs a can of whipped cream and sprays it all over the dick and licks it slowly. gojo bites his lips and groans when he sees the mischief in her eyes.

“i thought the whipped cream was for your hot chocolate?” the man in the video asks. the woman smiles brightly and wait…

that’s an oddly familiar smile to him….

“i love whipped cream on your big dick though” she pouts and gojo widens his eyes as he starts to fist himself faster and faster

it was you.

he knew he had recognized you in the cafe that day. the woman who had served coffee to him in the morning and made fun of him for his extra whipped cream. here you were sucking it off of a random man that he suddenly wishes was him.

the next day you were in the cafe and you yawn as you still face the consequences of your second job. a familiar face walks into the cafe with platinum hair and you smile as you remember him from the other day. the one who gave you your idea for your video.

he walks up to your register slowly with a smirk on his face as he puts his hands in his pockets. you tilt your head in confusion at his actions.

“what is it?” you ask as you yawn and he chuckles slowly and shrugs.

“nothing nothing. you tired?” he asks and you shake your head not wanting anyone to know about your little side hustle.

“long night you know taxes and stuff” you nod as you start to feel heat come up to your ears and face. he nods in response and asks for a hot chocolate like last time. you smile to yourself which he notices.

“something funny?” he asks as he smiles looking at your cute expression.

you shake your head. “no no. you want extra whipped cream on your hot chocolate again?” you ask as you start to reach for the whipped cream below the register. he suddenly reaches for your wrist and brings you back up much to your surprise.

“no. but i know somewhere else where you could put it”

the next day, gojo released a new video that beat your previous video, becoming a massive hit on all porn sites:

EATING PUSSY OUT WITH WHIPPED CREAM

[howtotrainabraincell]

Head cannons bc I can - Assassin’s body parts preferences (and extras...)

AN: I would just like to say that ALL of the Assassin's will protect their love with their lives, not standing for any disrespect or rudeness toward her in any way shape or form. I may not have put it in the description of every Assassin, but it goes without saying. ALSO, plz don't @ me bc this is my first ever spicy post lol

Altair Ibn La’Ahad - loves burying his face in her neck and grabbing her backside cheekily lol, loves bathing with her but won’t deny that’s it’s hard to control himself around her naked body. Comes to her after a mission (if they didn't go on it together that is or if she's not an assassin) to hold her and just melts against her, grateful to have her and be back in her arms alive. Pulls her away ever so often to a corner where he'll kiss her breathless and then just walk off like nothing happened (this man-), loves to chase lol if she runs from him, it sets something deep and primal off in him, and when he eventually catches her? 😳😳😳

Shay Patrick Cormac - definitely breasts lol and has a thing for waists, also loves thighs & has a thing for kissing from the top of her foot to the inside of her thighs, this man can pick up grown soldiers, flip them over his shoulder and then just toss them to the ground like it nothing so he’s strong - tell.me he doesn’t pick up his love and carry her off for some alone time. She won't have to worry about anyone on the Morrigan getting any ideas because Shay has made it VERY clear that she's his and his only. He'll legit fight for her if someone makes her uncomfortable or harasses her and make them regret the day they were born (that is if they can even think afterward bc they'll probably be dead). It - depending on the mood he's in - makes him feel very loved and cared for or very turned on and ready to pin her down, when she kisses the scar over his eye. Don't even get me started on how naughty this fricken man is in Irish Gaelic. (Sir! Control thyself!)

Edward Kenway - an ass man for sure and he loves the thighs too, stands behind her and glares at anyone who checks her out from his spot behind her where he’ll press a possessive kiss to her shoulder while glaring at them. Why do I have feeling that this man has a thing for women who can shoot guns? If she shoots a gun in front of him all pirate-esque he'll literally beg her to step on him haha. Loves him a mouthy feisty woman because not only does it turn.him.on, he gets a kick out of a lovely woman being able to blow someone out of the water with her insults & statements of self-defense. Will also waylay anyone who disrespects her, he'll actually feed them their teeth (don't test him with her)

Jacob Ethan Frye - both the man’s bi lol he can have both if he wants, he for sure does playful butt pats and grabs occasionally but usually when they’re alone (USUALLY & if a Rook bore witness? THEY SAW NOTHING), definitely into holding his love on his lap and whispering dirty things in her ear to fluster her. Will fight to protect her and God help them because they'll have him and the Rooks to deal with (that is if Jacob doesn't crush them and turn them into dust that blows away in the wind lol). Also loves him a feisty and mouthy woman, if she's sarcastic, witty and goofy on top of that? This man is more whipped than whipped cream. Total gentleman even if she can hand his ass to him on a silver platter, he still treats her with utmost respect. Enjoys lying in bed with her and cuddling (give the man all the cuddles STAT) lazily playing with her hair and believe it not - not all kissing with the amorous assassin leads to *wink wink*. He genuinely enjoys laying there with her on a slow day and kissing her sweetly, over and over again. Man is a genuine romantic sweetheart (and nothing will change my mind). It's not an odd occurrence for Evie to wonder where her younger brother is, only to find him conked out on his love's chest just peacefully snoozing away as she holds him reading a book or some files. Totally see him tracing his fingers down her sternum until he reaches her breasts and tracing the insides of them to get her riled up (if he's feeling mean he'll even give a cheeky kiss haha). Also loves to chase her across rooftops and make bets of a spicier nature...

Evie Frye - loves to kiss her loves hands & jaw (particularly that one little spot…) and trace kisses down her sternum, has a habit of cornering her and making out with her lol then she just goes on about her day like nothing happened, plays footsies underneath table surfaces (CHANGE MY MIND). Loves all of her and honestly don't think she would have a preference, Evie's just grateful to have her at all and be with her. Woman was dedicated to being alone as a result of being in the Brotherhood. Think she would get a kick out of witty and playful banter, the more her love speaks the more in love she falls and the more she desires her. She's good with her hands. I said it. Sue me. She.has.good.hands. The woman tis skilled (in more ways than one...) This also pertains to corsets and buttons whether it be doing them or undoing them... Kind think she would like chasing her love through the city too and if it ends up in a garden? The woman internally swoons.

Kassandra of Sparta - breasts she likes pulling her love against her and then looking down to see them pressed against her armor being gorgeous as usual and she loves to grab hips, she will CUT Alcibiades if he looks at her love lol bc she KNOWS what he's thinking about, only lets her hair down around her love and adores laying in between her thighs while her fingers give her a head a very relaxing massage (seriously they can put the woman to sleep lol)

Ratonhnhake:ton/Connor Kenway - I think we can all agree that this sweet man isn't very sexual BUT once he settles down, he does have an appreciation for his loves figure. Loves to hover over her from behind and kiss the top of her head, and when things get more intimate between them, he loves to give her kisses all over her face. Flowers with him would be a common occurrence, often times she wakes up to beautiful wildflowers on her bedside table or on the pillow beside her. This man is a good provider. And if she takes an interest in hunting with him, more than a few times he'll briefly lose interest in hunting the animal and playfully hunting her instead... Feel like he strokes her legs lovingly and takes his time exploring the sexual feelings he has for her. He would love her breasts because they're beautiful, soft and full of life.

Alexios of Sparta - ass for sure he seems like a butt smacker haha she’ll be minding her own business when he comes out of nowhere and gives her a light loving smack. He comes up behind her and literally sweeps her off her feet - no pleasantries, just "you're mine now" lol

Haytham Kenway - breasts has a thing for tracing the tops of them when she wears dresses to get her riled up all while delivering an “innocent” kiss to her flaming red cheek, will randomly stoop to her level to whisper something 😳 in her ear. Get a vibe that he would spoil her with beautiful jewelry and then woo her until it's the only thing she has on, before taking her to bed... Morning sex seems like the norm for him because he's not always there when she falls asleep arriving home late, but when he sees her in the morning, he more than makes it up to her and greets her in very steamy manner. He reminds her to remain neutral when she stands next to him during a meeting as he sits down with his hand hidden by her dress on her backside gently squeezing and acting completely casual about it the cheeky -

Desmond Miles - breasts & when Shaun stresses him out, he presses his head into them lol it’s stress relieving, comes up behind her and hugs her tightly, definitely into spooning he likes the physical contact, and he melts when she kisses his forehead. Before everything he screwed, but now with the woman he loves? He makes love and thoroughly enjoys every second of it with her. Having her by his side through everything means more to him than he can express.

Arno Victor Dorian - this man feels like a worshipper he would love all of her body and take his time with her, but he does tend to go for breasts more coming out of nowhere and kissing the tops of them reverently throughout the day, definitely takes her hand in his and kisses it with full eye contact to the point where it makes her blush, earning a chuckle from him. Tell me that this man doesn't pull her away to corners throughout the day or on a mission and kiss her before walking away casually like nothing happened lol. Got a feeling he's very into whisking his love away just getting her attention and pulling her away to wherever they can have a few moments alone together. Good kisser. I refuse to believe anything else. He swoops in gives a sweet kiss that leaves her flustered, and he stands there watching her with a smile on his face. For some reason I think he's into the whole secret lover rendezvous thing, aka coming in through his love's window or meeting her secretly (it's exciting and he gets her all alone...)

Ezio Auditore Da Firenze - also feels like a worshipping type of man except everywhere, everything, all the time lol, but he does have a preference for breasts often times hugging his love around the waist and burying his face in them. We've all seen how this man has thing for pinning his lady to the wall...do with it what you will. But he does it to her and OFTEN lol. A little more promiscuous in public - stopping of course if she gets uncomfortable - than others and is not afraid to show how he feels about her. Also, a good kisser. I mean COME ON.

Bayek of Siwa - he loves her breasts because beneath them lies her heart and he cherishes the fact that she has given it to him, loves to star gaze with her - they lay there together peacefully as he tells her about the constellations and their meaning. Loves bathing with her just laying back and relaxing, eyes roving her form as she cleans him and gives him a shave (he refuses to shave unless she does it for him bc he loves her touch and how great her handiwork is). Gives the kinds of kisses that melt her like a stick of butter lol, a kiss from him has a lot of emotion poured into it telling without words how much he loves her.

[hannibalbabygirlifier]

But it’s literally insaaaane to me how whipped Hawkeye is when it comes to radar it’s like Hawkeye the horse is sick Hawkeye I’m a bit too hot Hawkeye I want ice cream Hawkeye we want to go in the officers club. And he’s like yes honey I’ll give the horse an enema I’ll reveal the secret bathtub to you that we’ve been hiding from everybody and I’m sworn to secrecy on just so you’ll feel better I’ll use my bargaining chip to get you strawberry ice cream just if it’ll make you smile I’ll do anything to get that club open whatever you say. And radar knows it too it actually kills me he is SCHEMING he pulls out the puppy dog eyes and a few “sir”s and there’s literally nothing on earth Hawkeye wouldn’t give him. King of manipulation. But like it’s killing me why is he sooooo easy for him lol.

[prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue]

SALVATORE

•,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,•

-> tim drake blurb 🍵

-> tim drake has a crush on his favorite barista

life is forever busy for Tim , constantly juggling his ever pressing responsibilities of being Red Robin , school , completing cases for Bruce and helping run Wayne Enterprises- honestly his time for himself is so slim he often finds himself neglecting himself.

he's so accustomed to catering to everyone that when it comes to himself, he honestly doesn't know what to do - like does he take a nap and run the possibility that something happens when everyone needs himmost or does he skip on patrol tonight to watch that one series he's been wanting to for a while but then someone get's hurt covering for him?

overthinking about the endless possibilities makes him dizzy . he loves everyone too much to burden them with that even though Jason and Damian pisses him off to the point where he holds them all too dear . though no matter how busy his ever hectic schedule is he always makes time for coffee- always.

he doesn't care nor mind how clichè it is, but nothing beats the feeling of sipping a warm lattè on a cool evening or the smell of cinnamon and spice that seems to float around in the air everytime you open the doors to a cafè. there is no recreating that feeling of peace when you sit down and just watch the world move along and have that sense of peace .

today there was a new cafè opened not too far from his school and tim has to try it out . His mouth has been salvating since yesterday when he heard rumors of matcha roll cake with vanilla whipped cream in their menu . even now, his mouth is foaming as he approaches the small little shop tucked away between hustling apartments and shopping complexes.

tim pushes open the glass pane doors of the cafè and his nose is immediately hit with the scent of cinnamon and freshly brewed coffee. wooden tables with dainty matching wooden chairs were spread out , a few latterns adorned the ceiling , giving the atmosphere a warm glow .

a huge wall was adorned with jars of presumably different coffees with country flags next to them , another adorned with welcoming and menu posters while others were filled with shrubbery.

it was so peaceful . Tom seated himself on a seat near a window and took it upon himself to scan through the menu . he was so lost in thought that he hadn't noticed the pretty barista that came to his table .

"Good afternoon sir what can I get you ?"came a sweet yet gentle voice . Tim looked up from his menu towards the sound of the voice, and his eyes widened - in front of him was probably the most ethereal being and they were talking to him .

" Oh uhm - I would like a uhhhh chocolate lattè with a matcha roll cake, please," he called out his order , careful not to embarrass himself in front of this beautiful being . They gave him a small smile , " Alright I will get your order out in the next five minutes sir " .

Tim watched in pure awe as they walked away behind the counter and began watching them make his order . His faze fully fixated on the way their delicate hands maneuver around the coffee machine and they way they appear so elegant as they do the most basic tasks .

it wasn't before long they brought him his order and lord was tim red and shy . he politely thanked them, and they, in return, had to flash him their angelic smile, and he swore at that moment he felt like he was in heaven .

tim digged into his roll cake - the food practically melting so perfectly with his taste buds . tim takes a sip of his coffee as he peaks at them from the corner of his eye - god why are they so - so perfect ?

that day forward, cafès didn't only offer him peace of mind for him, but they also offered him a chance to be so close to them . of someone where to ask him right now if he had a crush, he'd immediately deny it, but anyone can tell by the way his cheeks redden and the fact he now literally visits this cafè every day that he is definitely helplessly crushing on his favorite barista.

[rottenpumpkin13]

So what are the SOLDIER's doin' for April fools?

The "Who Can Prank Sephiroth First" War That Ended In A Murder, A Heart Attack, And A Broken Leg

• April 1st is absolute pandemonium at Shinra HQ. The security team has responded to fourteen false fire alarms, three executives were trapped in elevators for hours due to "maintenance issues," and someone replaced all the fire extinguishers in the building with ones that sprayed whipped cream—all three were Reno's doing.

• April 1st is so unhinged on the SOLDIER floor in particular that Director Lazard has elected to always be "one step ahead" of all his operatives, namely Zack. He expects Zack. He's waiting for Zack, and this year, he won't be fooled.

*Lazard steps off the elevator at 0700 hours, armed with a bucket of water, eyes darting around for Zack's inevitable ambush*

Zack: Director! You need—

*Lazard, fueled by paranoia, yeets the entire bucket of water at Zack with the force of a vengeful god. Zack shrieks*

Lazard: HA! HA! TAKE THAT, YOU FOOL! WHO'S LAUGHING NOW?! YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD OUTSMART ME? YOU THOUGHT—HAHAHAHA, THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE!

*Tseng rounds the corner, arms crossed, radiating disappointment*

Tseng: I came to request a few SOLDIER operatives for a mission. I did not expect to witness such a revolting display.

*Lazard is standing in the puddle, mouth agape. Zack is sobbing*

Zack, clutching Tseng: He bullies me constantly!

Tseng, putting a comforting arm around Zack: You should be ashamed of yourself, Director. Come, Zack, let's get you dry and away from this lunatic

*Tseng leads Zack away. Zack peeks over his shoulder to stick his tongue out at Lazard*

Lazard: ASJHDJKGHDSKJHGSK—

• Meanwhile, Genesis strolls into Angeal's office, where Sephiroth is reviewing mission reports. He dramatically places a positive pregnancy test on the desk.

Angeal: ….?

Genesis: :)

Angeal: Gen, the "i'm pregnant" prank doesn't work if I know you don't have the biology for it.

Genesis: How do you know I didn't get someone else pregnant :)

Angeal: DID YOU??

Sephiroth: Again with these juvenile attempts? Angeal, it's so obviously a ploy to get you to react. You two fall for pranks far too easily.

Genesis: Oh, please. Me? Fall for pranks? As if I'd ever—ACK

*Genesis sits down, and the chair collapses underneath him. He flails violently before hitting the ground. Angeal is wheezing with laughter, Sephiroth is unimpressed*

Sephiroth: You know what? I've had enough. Every year it's the same charade with you two pranking each other. Now if you'll excuse me, I have mission logistics to review. You know, actual work because I'm an adult.

*He leaves*

Genesis, rubbing his bruised dignity: Sephiroth should be our next victim.

Angeal: Good luck with that. Trying to prank Sephiroth is like trying to put a Tonberry in a tutu. Zack tried once and got a concussion.

Genesis: That's because Zack is an amateur. We're Sephiroth's best friends. If anyone can prank him, it's us.

Angeal: Alright then, challenge accepted.

Genesis: May the best man win.

• One hour later, Genesis crouches behind a cart of training materia in the training facility, smirking as Sephiroth prepares to spar against an opponent. Kunsel walks up and crouches beside him.

Kunsel: Sir, what exactly are you doing?

Genesis: Waiting for the show to commence. I replaced Masamune with a replica that will break on the first strike.

Kunsel, concerned: Do you not value your life, sir?? Counseling is available in the medical wing if you need it!

Genesis: …

Genesis: NO. This will be glorious. Sephiroth will lose a spar for the first time in his life and be humiliated! Aren't I a genius?

*Kunsel sighs and takes out his phone to dial emergency services in advance*

*Sephiroth steps onto the mat. He swings the replica blade. It holds firm until the last blow. He obliterates his opponent. The audience erupts into applause. Then, as if by divine punishment, a stray chunk of the shattered sword flies directly at Genesis' head, knocking him out cold*

Kunsel: Damn.

Sephiroth: What happened to him?

Kunsel: Overcome with jealousy and admiration for your prowess, sir.

Sephiroth: I always knew he harbored such feelings.

*Just then, Zack bursts into the room, screaming, pursued by Lazard wielding a chainsaw*

Lazard: I KNOW YOU'RE PLANNING SOMETHING YOU EVIL BASTARD, TELL ME WHAT IT IS!

*Zack throws himself into Sephiroth's arms*

Zack, sobbing: Sephiroth, he's been bullying me all day!

Sephiroth: Lazard, have you no shame? Zack is innocent in all things.

Kunsel: For shame, Director.

*Zack gives Lazard the finger when they're not looking*

Lazard: ASDJFKLJGFDG—

• Later, at lunch, Genesis is nursing his head with an ice pack when Angeal sits down with a tray of food, looking smug.

Angeal: Prepare to lose the war. I got Sephiroth pumpkin soup, his favorite. I also spiked it with a potion that should turn him into a frog. He'll eat it happily and not know what's coming.

Genesis: Hm. Riveting.

Angeal: Don't you mean ribbiting?

*Angeal starts laughing uncontrollably at his own joke. Genesis stares in disgust*

Genesis: I need to get you a social life.

*Sephiroth arrives and sits down*

Angeal: Here, Seph, I got you pumpkin soup! Enjoy it while it's hot!

Sephiroth: How thoughtful of you, Angeal.

*Sephiroth eats a spoonful of the soup and nothing happens*

Angeal: ??!!??!?

*Sephiroth eats more—still, nothing happens*

Angeal: Don't you feel any different??

Sephiroth: I do ! I feel loved now that you gave me pumpkin soup. But I have to go now, I have an assignment.

*Sephiroth leaves, Angeal drops his head on the table*

Angeal: He's unprankable. How did he eat that and not transform?! Does he have a resistance equipped?! Is he just that lucky?! HOW DOES THIS HAPPEN?!

*Angeal picks up the empty bowl to stack it. The second he touches it—POOF—he turns into a frog*

Genesis: OH!

*Lazard walks by and SCREAMS upon seeing the frog*

Lazard: I KNEW IT. ZACK BROUGHT THIS VILE CREATURE HERE TO TRANSFORM ME! BEGONE, DEMON!

*Lazard grabs the frog and chucks it into the distance, Genesis flies out of his seat*

Genesis: ANGEAL!

• The rest of the day does not go well. Genesis tries to prank Sephiroth by replacing his shampoo with purple hair dye, but it only makes Sephiroth's hair shinier and more silver. Angeal attempts another prank by sending a fake email from Heidegger about Sephiroth's poor performance, only to receive a reply filled with expletives he didn't even know Sephiroth knew. In desperation, they consult Zack.

Zack: I can't believe you guys are struggling with this. It's so obvious what needs to be done to prank Sephiroth!

Angeal: Oh yeah? Then why haven't you done it yet?

Zack: Because Sephiroth is an easy target. I'm going for true prank satisfaction by using psychological warfare against Lazard. For example, I paid Kunsel 50 gil to play a loop of my voice in the air vents. Lazard is currently barricaded in his office, convinced I live in the walls.

Angeal: My god. I'm raising a war criminal.

Genesis: Wait….psychology….Zack, you're a genius. I know exactly what to do now! Angeal, my friend, consider yourself defeated. I have won this prank war.

• That night, Genesis lounges smugly in the SOLDIER common room, swirling wine in a glass with utter, decadent satisfaction. Angeal walks in, suspicious.

Angeal: What did you do?

Genesis: Oh, nothing major. Just left a note on Sephiroth's desk from Hojo, asking him to come to the lab and "settle their differences like men."

Angeal: …You just set Sephiroth up for an uncomfortable one-on-one with Hojo?

Genesis: Oh, yes. The most cursed conversation imaginable. Sephiroth gets chewed out by Hojo for insubordination, he comes back looking confused and feeling stupid, We bask in the greatest prank known to man, and I win.

*Sephiroth walks in, shirtless, covered in blood*

Genesis: WHAT THE FUCK

Angeal: WHO'S BLOOD IS THAT?

Sephiroth: Well, gentlemen. That was an eventful evening.

Angeal, visibly shaking: Sephiroth. SEPHIROTH. TELL ME YOU DIDN'T HURT ANYBODY!

*Genesis pulls out his phone and starts consulting plane tickets to flee the continent*

Sephiroth: I went up to see Hojo, but the conversation was so uncomfortable. He had the audacity to act as if he had no idea why I was there. Hojo just kept talking, and talking, so I grew irritated.

Genesis: ANGEAL? ANGEAL? SEPHIROTH HE CAN'T BREATHE!

Sephiroth: Neither could Hojo the moment I snapped and wrapped my hands around his neck.

*Angeal is gasping like he's going into cardiac arrest*

Sephiroth: And suddenly, my sword was in my hand, and he was screaming, and there was blood everywhere and, well, Hojo won't be a problem anymore.

Angeal: HELP

*Genesis is checking SOLDIER benefits for witness protection options*

Sephiroth: I don't see why this is a problem. After all, it was he who called me up to his office to, quote, "settle things like men."

Genesis: OH MY GODDESS I'M GOING TO JAIL

Angeal: I'M DYING!

*Angeal collapses, Genesis screams and immediately tries to revive him. Sephiroth just laughs*

Sephiroth: I'm kidding, that was just a prank.

Genesis: WHAT?

*Sephiroth wipes a hand over his face and smears the red liquid*

Sephiroth: It's fake blood. I got you both, didn't I?

*Angeal is still passes out, Genesis is now having an existential crisis*

Genesis: I need a vacation. I need to move away. I need to go to Wutai and become a monk.

Sephiroth: Pranking other people is fun. What a shame I don't know the sensation of being pranked.

Genesis: …….This day cannot possibly get any worse.

*Lazard crashes through the ceiling from the air vents and lands on top of Genesis, raising dust and debris everywhere*

Genesis, 100% done: FABULOUS. I BROKE MY LEG.

Lazard: IS HE HERE? IS HE? WHERE'S ZACK? I KNOW HE WAS IN THE VENTS TRYING TO TORMENT ME!

*Just then, Zack strolls in, leading President Shinra and a group of high-ranking executives on a tour of the SOLDIER floor, all smiles and professionalism*

Zack: As you can see, sir, we at SOLDIER don't even indulge in April Fools. We don't participate in such childish antics. Strict discipline, no pranks, absolute professionalism.

*President Shinra surveys the scene: Sephiroth drenched in blood (unclear if it's his), Angeal potentially dead on the floor, Genesis nursing a very broken leg, Lazard coated head to toe in debris, and a fresh, gaping hole in the ceiling*

Zack: Oh! Director, is this a bad time? :(

*Lazard, twitching, shrieks like a banshee and launches himself at Zack with all the fury of a man who has lost everything*

[wayiiseetheworld]

pancakes

Summary: based off the Tumblr prompt, "look, i made pancakes! i even made a smiley face out of the whipped cream, see?" "oh, that's what it's supposed to be? you're so cute.."

Warnings: Jack Abbot x OC!Wife. Established relationship. Age gap marriage. Domestic Fluff. Romantic Fluff.

Word Count: 592

Author Note: Based off this Tumblr post. Thank you @novelbear for the idea! and all your prompts! || Not my gif.

A03 Link | Masterlist

It was a Sunday morning when a text from Robby informed us that Jack had a rough night, and the inviting aroma of freshly made pancakes drifted through the cozy kitchen. Aila had been in the kitchen for a while, focused on her breakfast creations, when the front door of the Abbot house swung open. Jack’s voice rang out, resonating through the home, “Good morning, baby! I’m home!”

Aila was dressed in nothing but Jack’s oversized T-shirt with "Army" emblazoned across the chest, paired with her slippers. She hummed softly along with the song playing from the Alexa speaker. As she flipped pancakes, trying to perfect her breakfast masterpiece, and putting the last pancake on the plate when Jack stepped into the kitchen.

Jack leaned casually against the doorway, watching her for a moment before she turned to look at him. Her face lit up with a wide smile, and he mirrored her expression. She opened the fridge and grabbed the whipped cream, carefully dolloping it on top of the pancakes to create a smiley face. Then, she reached for a cherry and placed it right in the center of the stack.

“Good morning, Griz! Look, I made you pancakes! I even made a smiley face out of the whipped cream, see?” Aila said, gesturing proudly to the cheerful face perched atop the golden-brown pancakes.

Jack’s eyes lit up at the word pancake. He stepped closer, a warm smile spreading across his face; one that he usually reserved just for her. He leaned in slightly, studying the pancake creation with curiosity. “Oh, is that what it’s supposed to be?” he teased playfully, a hint of amusement in his voice. Then, softly, he added, “You’re so cute…”

Aila chuckled, her cheeks flushing slightly at his compliment. She smiled warmly and held out her arms. "Come here. Give your wife a kiss, please," she said with a grin, beckoning him closer.

Jack obliged, crossing the short distance to wrap her in a gentle embrace. His arms settled around her, and he leaned in to press a tender kiss to her forehead before softly whispering, “You’re the best thing I could come home to.”

Aila's smile deepened as she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder and soaking in the warmth of his presence. “Did you have a rough shift?” she asked softly.

Jack hesitated for a moment before giving a gentle nod. “Did Robby message you?” he asked softly.

Aila looked up at him, concerned, flickering in her eyes. “Just said you could use a pick-me-up this morning. Does that mean he found you on the roof during shift change?” she inquired gently. Jack nodded in response.

She squeezed his hand reassuringly. “Okay, I won’t push you to talk about it unless you’re ready. Just—” she paused, smiling softly “—how about you eat the pancakes first, then come meet me in the bedroom?”

Jack made a face, pouting playfully. “Do I have to eat the pancakes?”

“Yes, sir,” she replied with a teasing grin, leaning up to kiss his jawline. “And then your reward is me, naked in our sheets, and then sleep.”

“Okay,” Jack replied with a small smile. She grinned back, gently slipping out of his embrace to bring the plate of pancakes closer. She grabbed a fork and knife, then opened the fridge to retrieve a cold beer, setting it beside his plate. “You fucking spoil me, baby girl,” he said with a chuckle.

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “I just treat you the way you deserve, Jack.”