#None of these characters are fucking real none of these stories are real life is a fuck shit

[chuckyray]

jelix gets so much hate and people act like it's truly problematic. It's so funny to me. you can hate its fans and not have to justify it with acting as if the ship itself is somehow offensive.

sorry y'all can't see the beauty in 70s repressed homosexual adultery and the consequences of it being tragedy. i forgot the kids these days haven't even seen brokeback mountain.

[vixythemeaniefukei]

At this point it’s literally just there for good publicity points, don’t fucking convince me otherwise.

[narwhalandchill]

btw if u equate childe and aventurines backstory in any fucking way please leave this blog and unfollow me <3 preferably block me while ur at it too uwu

[technicallyaminecraftsimp]

It’s way too late for me to be freaking out about this but,,,,,,,, they brought in his fucking deadbeat dad wtf,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

[whumpy-wyrms]

hey guys

[that-fic-girl]

HAZBIN HOTEL X READER HC #1

Head canon: what it would be like to date them.

characters: Alastor, angel dust, husk, vox

disclaimer: everything i write about these characters might not be accurate to the actual story, please take everything in the fic with a grain of salt, none of this is canon!!

Alastor

he hasnt been in an actual relationship in a while so being close and vulnerable with someone is quite hard for him, especially as someone who associates emotions with weakness.

First off, its safe to say he adores the ground you walk on. He's in love with everything about you, your clothes, the smell of your hair, your sickly sweet voice. his loves it all.

If there was ever a problem you needed fixing, a person you needed taken care of or even a errand you needed to run he would tend to it himself. he would not let you lift a finger.

PDA is a iffy thing for him, he wouldnt do grand big gestures but maybe a hand on the hip or a few words of affirmation.

everyone in the pride ring quickly learned of yours and radio demon's relationship. And no one dared to mess with you, ofcourse there was people who wanted to test their luck but they would have to pay the price later.

his love language is definitely words of affirmation, he will sweet talk the shit out of you. At night when it's just you two in bed, he will have his hands stroking through your hair whilst you rant to him about your day and he'll reply with sweet nothings

"oh darling, i've missed you all evening"

"you looked ravishing today my dear.."

"mm your hair smells amazing, my love"

Angel Dust

Angel is one of, if not, the horniest mother fuckers out there but somehow, he manages to somewhat make a healthy relationship with someone.

you two are seen as "the bad bitch" couple. you're always out together, always getting into dumb shit together. You'll get yelled at by vaggie at early hours in the morning because the two of you where playing a childish game of tag in the hotel halls.

his love language is definitely physical touch, he'll have his arms slung around your waist almost all the time. Kisses are a MUST every 5 minutes, like this boy will NOT part from you. especially in the mornings when you have to leave for work;

"mmnnnnoooooooo...stayyy for five minutes pleasseeeee"

"but sweets..you're soooo warm"

"sweetheart please, you feel so comfy"

yeah good luck with that.

nights with him are VERY eventful, if it wasn't obvious. You two would usually be at it late hours into the night but sometimes, when you two where too exhausted to fuck like rabbits, he would be sprawled across your lap whilst you stroked his fur.

Husk

Despite his harsh tone and uncompromising demeanor, you understood that Husk wasn't trying to be malicious towards you. It was simply his way of communicating, and you knew that his behavior wasn't personal. Even though he could be abrasive at times, you loved him for his rough edges and authentic personality

You and Husk's time together was mostly spent at the bar. You didn't like to drink much, but you loved seeing him work and make cocktails like a pro. You didn't mind that it wasn't considered a typical date, because you liked spending time with him in whatever way he felt most comfortable.

Husk is not used to receiving compliments, as he didn't often receive them in his past life. When you complimented him, it caught him off guard and he was surprised. But he eventually learned to appreciate it, and it even made him feel a little sentimental.

Despite the difficulty, you were able to help Husk realize that you genuinely cared about him. He had been used to being surrounded by dishonesty and hypocrisy, but you were always sincere and real. He held you in high regard, as you were the only source of light in his life, and he didn't want to lose you.

vox

You were known as a strong and independent person who didn't need assistance from others. You knew how to stand up for yourself, despite being harsh and tough at times. Despite your exterior, no one was aware of the soft spot in your heart that Vox's affection and touch alone could melt away your severity.

He appreciated seeing your affectionate side, as it felt special and intimate, like a shared secret between the two of you. He knew you valued your privacy, and he respected it by never sharing photos or other details on social media. He didn't want to betray your trust.

You were often feared and respected when you were with Vox. People found it hard to believe that someone as intimidating as yourself could have a tender, caring side that was kept hidden from most. Vox was glad that he was the only one who got to see that side of you. He didn't want to share something so special and personal with anyone else.

Quite often, he would call you on the phone, knowing that sweet words could be just as effective as a kiss. He enjoyed hearing how your voice softened from its usual seriousness to a more affectionate tone. He was aware that when he said loving phrases to you, you would blush and smile shyly, and sometimes he even regretted not being able to witness it in person.

"i've missed you today babe.."

"mhm look at my pretty girl/boy!"

[whytheylosttheirminds]

I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron

(Prologue and Chapter 1)

Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?

Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.

Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!

Prologue

Before gold, before grams, before the gun, there was you. Back when there weren’t crosses to steal, lines to snort, cops to run from, there was you. Long summer nights on the Druthers, your mom blowing up your phone ‘cause you missed curfew again. Skipping class and riding to the beach on the back of his bike. All the way back to grade school, playing tag and pretending you were pirates. Then middle school, that kiss under the lifeguard tower, a first for both of you. In high school, the night you got back from the “character-building summer camp” you had been shipped off to and you shared your other first. When you were first together, it didn’t even hurt, but just felt like fucking finally. 

He remembers it all, taking all of his strength to keep it stuffed under the surface. The coke, the violence, the drama he creates in his wake cover you up nicely, until those nights when he’s dead asleep and there you are again, leaving. When he wakes, it all comes back to him. How he sat on the curb and watched you go, bloody and hurt from the night that was your final straw. How he showed up on your doorstep the next day, like he was five-years-old again asking if you could come outside and play. How your mother told him you were gone and wouldn’t tell him where you went.

“Honey,” she said with something like pity in her voice, “Promise me, you’ll let her go, let her be happy.”

A promise he kept, until the day you rolled back into town with no warning. Your timing could not have been worse. After the summer from hell, the summer that made him a killer, he finally felt like he was in control. It wasn’t until he saw you, the only person in the world that ever really knew him, that he realized he had no idea who he was. 

Chapter One

You clutched your phone tight, reading and rereading the message. One you used to get nearly every night but hadn’t seen in two long years.

party at cameron’s tonite !!

It was a group text, sent by the girl from your high school you bumped into in the grocery store earlier that day. You had been back on the island for all of an hour before inevitably seeing someone you knew. You tried to duck quickly into the cereal aisle, but she caught your eye before you could disappear, an action you were infamous for.

“Omg, we need to hang out soon!” She had said, before handing you her phone to put your new number in.

You smiled your fakest smile and said, “it’s a must!” You didn’t think either of you really meant it, but apparently she had.

There were eleven or twelve other numbers in the group text, none you had saved, but you assumed they were likely other people from your high school. She probably just added anyone in her contacts she could think of, not even stopping to realize she was inviting the Kook prince’s former princess to his party. Your relationship had been the stuff of legend on this island. Everyone had an opinion, you were practically a celebrity couple, and it was the biggest news on the island for months when you left, suddenly disappearing overnight. Some real shit must’ve gone down around here since then to make it such old news that this girl didn’t even think about it when adding you to this text.

Your heart pounding in your ears, you couldn’t believe it when you felt yourself typing out i’ll be there :) 

You wore your hair down, the way you always used to have it in high school. After you left, you had cut it short, wanting to shed away as much of your old life as you could, but in the last few months you’d started to let it grow back. Now it flowed down to the middle of your back, tickling the skin of your shoulders where the thin spaghetti straps of the little dress you had on left them exposed. You let the front pieces fall around your face, a sort of curtain to keep an extra layer between you and the other partygoers.

You could not believe you were here. For real this time, not in a dream as you had been every night for two years, but really here. 

As you walked down the gravel path, it all came rushing back. The smell of Rose’s garden, the distant sound of the ocean lapping against the shore, the low thud of the music echoing through the crisp evening air. How many times have you walked down this path? How many nights had you spent here, your senses filled with the glory of Tannyhill, the glory of him? And yet now it felt so heavy, the sights, sounds, smells of it all were nearly choking you. Tears welled in your eyes, but something kept your feet walking towards those grand front doors, towards him.

Four years earlier…

The glass panes of the front door are slightly blurred, only revealing the soft lighting of the grand entryway on the other side. You had crossed this threshold at least a thousand times in the ten years since your family moved to this island. Knocking felt strange, you felt so small standing here in the porch light, surrounded by moths and the thick coastal August air. An envelope, wrinkled from being opened and rifled through so many times, was clutched between your clammy hands.

A figure you couldn’t quite make out approached the door, and your heart pounded in your ears as you hoped desperately it would be him who opened the door. But it wasn’t.

“Oh, hey - I- hi, Mr. Cameron,” you stammered, ever intimidated by the island’s most powerful man.

“Y/N,” Ward nodded cordially. “It’s after 10pm.”

You smiled weakly, if you felt small before, you feel positively infantile now.

“I was just hoping I could see Rafe for like, just a second,” you pleaded, putting on your sweetest smile.

“He’s studying,” Ward said. “You can come back tomorrow. Goodnight.”

Before you could protest, the door was closed and the blurred figure retreated into the house.

Never one to give up, you stuffed the letter into the back pocket of your jeans, and stepped back from the porch, sizing up the massive house to see which rooms still had lights on. You knew the blueprint of this place by heart, checking off each family member mentally as you scanned their window for signs of life. Wheezie’s room? Dark. Sarah’s room? Dark. Rose and Ward’s room? Still lit. This would have to be a stealth mission. 

You snuck around the side of the house and looked up at the last window on your list. To your excitement, the room was still lit. You saw a long shadow pass by the curtains, and you actually jumped a little from the thrill. After spending the longest summer of your life apart from the one person you wanted to spend it with, he was actually right there, just two stories off the ground.

You traveled 800 miles today, what was a few more feet? Blocking out the better judgment ringing in the back of your mind, you picked up a few pebbles from the rocky path that leads to the backyard, and started climbing the big tree that grew right up past Rafe’s balcony. How you were gonna get from the tree to the balcony? That was five-minutes-from-now-you’s problem. You chuckled to yourself as your body naturally found each branch and knot on the tree. You used to have competitions when you were kids to see who could climb this tree the fastest, and you beat Rafe everytime. You remembered the shocked look on his face the first time he saw you scurry up the tree, you were hoping for a similar level of approving surprise once you got where you were going.

Once you reached the branch directly across from Rafe’s balcony, you pulled one of the pebbles from your pocket and chucked it at his window as hard as you could. 

“Shit,” you whisper-yelled as the throw fell short and the pebble dropped, loudly knocking into the first floor window below. You couldn’t afford another noise-causing miss, so you recalculated the throw and bit your lip as you lobbed the next pebble hard. It smacked into Rafe’s window with a loud TINK and you smiled in satisfaction. You waited a moment, then two, and still nothing. The shadowy figure did not return to the curtain. You only had one pebble left, and you had never been good at climbing back down this tree. Remembering the time you fell out of it onto the waiting Rafe below, and you both ended up needing stitches, your stomach twisted in fear. You took in a deep breath and held it, letting the last pebble fly. Another sharp TINK, and a moment of baited breath later, the tall shadow finally returned to the window.

Rafe opened the curtains harshly and you immediately broke into a wild smile. He looked so cute in his fitted gray t-shirt and plaid pajama pants, his normally gelled back her falling in messy pieces around his face. You held back a giggle, delighted by the completely confused look on his face as he searched out the window for the cause of the sound. He lifted the window open and examined the two pebbles that had fallen on the windowsill. 

You took the opportunity to whisper a loud “psssst.” His face shot up in surprise and his eyes finally found you in the tree, just a few feet off of the balcony. Where you expected to see surprised delight on his face, you instead caught something cold and irritated.

“Y/N,” he whisper-called to you. “What are you doing?”

“I just got back, I wanted to see you!” You called to him, hoping his apparent anger was just in response to his own shock.

“I’m busy.” Rafe went to close the window and you felt your moment of opportunity slip away.

“Wait!” you stopped him. “Please don’t make me climb down. We both know it won’t end well.” You smiled a sweetly shy smile you hoped would melt his icy demeanor a bit.  

He sighed and looked at you annoyed for a moment before climbing out the window, his height requiring him to duck low in order to make it through. He had grown even taller over the summer, he must have hit 6 foot by now, maybe more. Your stomach flipped as you watched his athletic frame emerge from his bedroom, now able to see how defined his arms looked in the moonlight. You’d always thought he was a cute boy, but the way he looked right now lit a fire in your belly. Then you realized what it was - while you were gone, the cute boy-next-door had become a man.

“Just reach over,” he directed you.

“I don’t think I can without falling,” you explained. “I think I’m gonna have to jump.”

“Are you stupid?” He scoffed humorlessly.

Your heart sank, the boy you left behind three months ago never would have called you stupid.

“It’ll be fine, you just have to catch me,” you explained.

He rolled his eyes and opened his arms, reaching them over the bannister of the balcony, “fine.”

The brief moment of joy you got from his submission faded fast as you made the mistake of looking down at the gap between the tree and the balcony.

“Actually…” you said, bravery fading.

“What, are you scared?” Rafe taunted.

“No!” you insisted. You smiled at him, suddenly feeling like the two of you were ten again and he was daring you to jump off the trampoline into the pool in your backyard.

Now or never. With a deep breath and a sharp yelp, you threw yourself out of the tree and towards his waiting arms on the balcony. As promised, he caught you, and pulled you quickly over the bannister. His arms wrapped around your waist, yours around his shoulders, he held you there just a few inches off the ground.

You flattened your hands against the taut muscles of his shoulders, delighting in the strong warmth of them. But before you could fully revel in the feeling of being in his arms, he released his grip on your waist and you dropped the final few inches to the ground. Rafe quickly stepped back, breaking the lock your arms had around his neck. Despite the southern summer heat, the air between you suddenly felt ice cold.

“Rafe,” you whispered, stepping towards him, but he only pulled further away.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said without even looking at you.

Rafe started back towards his window, and something gave you the feeling he was not going to invite you to follow him through it.

“I need to talk to you,” you started to explain.

Rafe whipped around to face you, the way he towered over you at his new height sending goosebumps down your spine.

“Why don’t you go talk to your new boyfriend instead?” He snapped.

You were so stunned that you let out a little laugh, which only made his furrowed brow scrunch even more in anger.

“What are you talking about?” You asked.

“I saw the pictures your camp was posting on their website all summer. I saw you wrapped around that douchebag.”

It took a moment of confused silence for you to realize what he was talking about, when it finally dawned on you, you laughed again. He turned from you and started heading towards the window again, but you caught his arm, your hand not able to fit even halfway around it.

“No, Rafe,” you explained, “That was just Andy, one of the other campers. We were doing a trust fall exercise. He dropped me like two seconds after that!”

Despite himself, Rafe turned to look at you, eyes examining you nervously. 

“Are you ok?” He asked in a small voice, wishing desperately that he didn’t care.

You smiled softly, there he was - your boy. 

“I’m fine,” you assured him, showing him the small scar on your wrist. “Just a little scrape.”

A moment passed, he avoided your eyes but allowed you to step closer, your hand sliding down his arm and slipping into his, his fingers reluctantly intertwining with yours. You knew exactly what words he was struggling to find, but decided to let him get there on his own.

Finally, “Why didn’t you answer my letters?”

Your other hand reached into your back pocket and pulled out the envelope you had tucked away. You held it out to him wordlessly. He took the letter and held it to the light coming from his room, examining it with a confused look. The envelope was addressed to him at Tannyhill, from you at camp. When he finally noticed the “return to sender” label, it all clicked.

“They kept getting returned to me, I don’t know why,” you said as you squeezed his hand. “I asked to use my phone to let you know but they wouldn’t let me. I almost just snuck out of camp and came home so I could explain it to you.”

“Your mom would’ve been so mad,” he said, finally, finally smiling at you.

“Then she would’ve just taken away my phone and we’d be back where we started,” You said. “There’s like twenty more letters like that. I don’t know why they never made it to you, it’s like someone was sabotaging me.”

Rafe seemed satisfied with your explanation and the remaining bit of anger on his face melted away completely. He stuffed the letter in his pocket and suddenly threw his arms around you, lifting you in the air as you yelped in surprise, giggling as he started planting sloppy kisses all over your face and neck.

“Shhh, baby, my parents will hear you,” he whispered. “They’ve got me locked in my tower because I failed my last quiz in this fucking summer school pre-calc class.”

“Rafe!” you said in mock-scandal. “Naughty language!”

“Oh, baby, I can say way naughtier things than that,” he growled in your ear, your cheeks now burning from real-scandal.

“C’mon,” he said, setting you down and grabbing your hand, to lead you to his still-open window. 

He placed his large hand on the small of your back as he helped you through the window, climbing in after you and closing it slowly so as to not make a sound.

You and Rafe had done some more-than-kissing things before, but that was the night you gave yourselves to each other completely. He held you after, softly kissing the scar on your arm from when Andy had dropped you.

“Never gonna let that Andy asshole touch you again,” he said between kisses. “He can find his own girl, you’re mine.”

You giggled and he looked up at you in confusion.

“Rafe,” you were laughing hard now. “Andy’s gay.”

He broke into a bashful grin, a quick blush of embarrassment swept across his cheeks before he grew serious again and started kissing up your arm.

“I don’t care,” he said. “They should all know - all the Andys and Jakes and Chads and whoeverthefucks,” his kisses had reached your neck, “no guy is ever gonna get to touch you like me.” He pulled back and looked into your eyes with a sincerity that squeezed your heart. “Gonna love you forever. Gonna marry you, make you a mom. Never gonna spend three months, or even three fucking days away from you again. That what you want?”

“Yes,” you breathed, meaning it with your whole being.

“Good.”

Now…

The memories flooded your brain as you opened the door and stepped into the home you used to think would be yours someday. The party was swelling, the vibe feeling so familiar and so uncomfortable at the same time.

You made your way straight to the kitchen, desperately needing a drink. Every step you took sent a memory flashing through your thoughts like a shock to your brain. You passed the living room and saw movie-nights-turned-make-out-sessions on the couch, playing mario kart with Sarah and Wheezie while Rafe laughed at your hyper-competitiveness, prom pictures in front of the fireplace. You passed the dining room and saw the first family dinner you were invited to, how you made Ward laugh with a story about fishing your own dad used to tell, how Rafe squeezed your thigh under the table in pride. You entered the kitchen and saw the time you and Rafe set off the smoke alarm trying to make pancakes, the time he lifted you onto the counter and went down on you when his family was out of town. And then, standing by the keg, you saw the girl who invited you, clearly plastered already.

“Omg!” She yelled when she saw you.

Everyone else in the large kitchen turned and looked at you. It felt dramatic, but you could swear the whole room fell silent when they saw you, a comical record scratch playing in your head.

The girl who invited you ran over to you, beer sloshing over the side of her solo cup and onto her shirt. 

“I can not believe you came,” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “I completely forgot when I invited you, about, you know, you and-”

“Can I get one of those?” you cut her off quickly, gesturing towards her drink.

Before she could answer, a loud crash came from outside the kitchen’s open french doors. The heads that had all been watching you suddenly snapped toward the sound towards the crowded back yard. When the loud bellow of a man’s voice rang out, the people in the kitchen all ran towards the unfolding scene. You pushed through the crowd and out the doors, drawn inexplicably to the voice. Your heart dropped to your stomach when you realized why - it was Rafe.

There in the backyard, packed with drunk people and lit by string lights, Rafe stood with his fist clenched in the collar of some guy’s white button up, forcefully pulling the scared looking dude toward him while he yelled.

“I said none of that fucking cheap shit,” Rafe yelled at the guy you now realized was a cater-waiter. 

“I’m sorry sir, I-” Rafe threw the man down and he fell back in the dirt.

“This isn’t some ghetto block party out in The Cut,” Rafe yelled. “Do you know who’s fucking house you’re at right now?”

The crowd around you watched, most smiling in support of the man they looked at like he was a rockstar. You cringed at the looks of admiration in their eyes and took Rafe in with your own.

He looked different, harder. His floppy blond locks had been shaved off, and he had traded old t-shirts and jeans for slacks and a polo. He was as tall and built as you remembered, but instead of it being endearing, it was just scary as he looked down at the poor server like he was gonna kill him.

Then he spat on him. He actually spat on another human being. It disgusted you in more ways than one, and you felt your heart breaking in your chest as you realized you had no idea who this man was. The boy who held you on that night four years ago and promised to be yours forever clearly didn’t live here anymore. You turned quickly and pushed back through the crowd, unable to watch another second of this sickening display of toxic masculinity.

Rafe glared down at the pogue-scum in the dirt below him, an eerily familiar feeling washed over him as something moved quickly in the corner of his eye. He turned at just the right moment to see a whip of long hair disappear through the crowd.  But it wasn’t. It couldn’t possibly be. Surely, it was not you.

(chapter 2)

a/n: Hiiii this is the first fic I've posted in about 10 years!! Hope you enjoyed, forgive me if I'm rusty! More chapters to come :)

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Been thinking about why the argument that OFMD is inherently a bad show because it's based on historical slaveowners so often feels disingenuous to me as a person of color.

HUGE disclaimer up front: if you don't wanna fuck with the show because of that premise right out the gate, that's 100% valid and I completely get that. I'm not talking about that. What I'm specifically talking about is White fandom people in particular who argue that OFMD must be "problematic" because of this, especially when they say this as some kind of virtue-signalling trying to win points in fandom wars, stuff like that.

My big thing is that the resemblance the characters in OFMD have to their real-world namesakes begins and ends with having the same name. The show feels more to me like it's playing with the vague myths around these names, not the people themselves. Can you make an argument that they should have come up with original characters instead? Sure, but let's be honest, even people who study the irl counterparts have very little knowledge of their actual lives, and the average person has all but none. To add to that, this show has absolutely zero interest in historical accuracy; the moment they cast a Jewish-Polynesian man as Blackbeard that became obvious. No one is saying the real-life Blackbeard and Stede Bonnet were good people, least of all the show itself; the point is that OFMD's versions are basically original characters already.

It always feels like an incredibly disingenuous claim to parallel the show to Hamilton, because Hamilton both did care about historical accuracy and also brought up the slave trade. Hamilton is uncomfortable for so many poc because it writes poc into the story of otherwise very faithfully portrayed racists, colonizers, and slaveowners and just handwaves the racism. In OFMD, racism exists, but the stance is always explicitly anti-racist and anti-colonialist in a way that is just so fun to see (whom among us has not wished to skin a racist with a snail fork?).

The other thing that sticks for me is...there's an appropriate amount of slavery I want to see in my romcoms, and that amount is none. I am so sick of historical fiction where Black characters are only there for trauma porn about the horrors of the slave trade. You can make a legitimate argument that OFMD is handwavey about the slave trade, but I'd argue that including discussion of the slave trade is something that should be done with such incredible care that it would leave us with a show that can't really be a comedy at all anymore. OFMD's characters of color are allowed to be nuanced, complex characters with their own emotions, and it's incredibly refreshing to see, and I'd much rather have that than yet another historical fiction show where the only characters of color are only there to make White audiences feel virtuous about how sad they feel for them.

In conclusion, I guess: every yt person who makes this argument to win points in a fandom war owes me and every other fan of color a million dollars

[creatingblackcharacters]

"Let's Have a Talk, First"- Stereotypes, pt 1

Come sit down. You and I, before we get into any of the things I'm sure you're impatient to know: we need to have a come to Jesus talk, first.

There are some things that I've been asked and seen that strengthens my belief that we need to have a reframing of the conversation on stereotypes in media away from something as simple as "how do I find the checklist of stereotypes to avoid". Because race- and therefore racial stereotypes- is a complex construct! Stands to reason then, that seeing, understanding, and avoiding it won't be that simple! I'm going to give you a couple pointers to (hopefully) help you rethink your approach to this topic, and therefore how to apply it when you're writing Black characters- and even when thinking about Black people!

Point #1: DEVELOP THE CHARACTER!! WRITE!!

Excuse my crude language, but let me be blunt: Black people- and therefore Black characters- will get angry at things, and occasionally make bad choices in the heat of the moment. Some of us like to fuck real nasty, some might be dominant in the bedroom, they may even be incredibly experienced! Others of us succumb to circumstance and make poor decisions that lead to crime.

None of those things inherently makes any of us angry Black women and threatening Black men, Jezebels and BBC Mandingos, and gangsters and thugs!

Black people are PEOPLE! Write us as such!

If all Black characters ever did was go outside, say "hi neighbor!" and walk back in the house, we'd be as boring as racist fans often accuse.

I say this because I feel I've seen advice that I feel makes people think writing a Black character that… Emotes negatively, or gets hurt by life and circumstance, or really enjoys hard sex, or really any scenario where they might "look bad" is the issue. I can tell many people think "well if I write that, then it's a stereotype" and to avoid the difficulty, they'll probably end up writing a flat Black character or not writing them at all. Or- and I've seen this too- they'll overcompensate in the other direction, which reveals that they 'wrote a different sort of Black person!' and it comes off just as awkwardly because it means you think that the Black people that do these things are 'bad'. And I hate that, because we're capable of depth, nuance, good, evil, adventure, world domination, all of it!

My point is, if you write your character like the human being they are, while taking care to recognize that you as the writer are not buying into stereotypes with your OWN messaging, you're fine. We have emotions, we have motivations and goals, we make decisions, and we make mistakes, just like anybody else. Write that! Develop your character!

POINT #2: YOU CAN'T CONTROL THE READERS!!

Okay. You can write the GREATEST Black character ever, full of depth, love, nuance, emotional range, all those things…. And people are still going to be racist about them. Sorry. There is absolutely nothing you can do to control a reader coming from that place of bias you sought to avoid. If it's not there, TRUST AND BELIEVE, it'll be projected onto them.

That passionate young Black woman who told the MC to get her head out of her ass? Yeah she's an angry Black bitch now, and bully to the sweet white MC. Maybe a lesbian mommy figure if they like her enough to "redeem" her. That Black gay male lead that treats his partner like he worships the ground he walks on? Yeah he's an abusive thug that needs to die now because he disagreed One Time with his white partner. That Black trans woman who happened to be competing against the white MC, in a story where the white MC makes comparable choices? Ohhhh they're gonna be VILE about that poor woman.

It really hurts- most especially as a Black fan and writer- knowing that you have something amazing to offer (as a person and creative) and people are gonna spit on that and call it "preference". That they can project themselves onto white characters no matter what, but if you project your experiences onto black characters, it's "pandering", "self insert", "woke", "annoying", "boring", and other foul things we've all gotten comments of.

But expect that it's gonna happen when you write a Black character, again, especially if you're a Black writer. If you're not Black, it won't hurt as personally, but it will probably come as a shock when you put so much effort in to create a lovely character and people are just ass about them. Unfortunately, that is the climate of fandom we currently exist in.

My favorite example is of Louis De Pointe Du Lac from AMC's Interview With The Vampire. Louis is actually one of the best depictions of the existential horror that is being Black in a racist White world I have ever seen written by mostly nonblack people. It was timeless; I related to every single source of racist pain he experienced.

People were HORRIFIC about Louis.

It didn't matter that he was well written and what he symbolized; many white viewers did NOT LIKE this man. There's a level of empathy and understanding that Black characters in particular don't receive in comparison to white counterparts, and that's due to many of those stereotypes and systemic biases I'm going to talk about.

My point is, recognize that while yes, you as the author have a duty to write a character thoughtfully as you can, it's not going to stop the response of the ignorant. Writing seeking to get everyone to understand what you were trying to do… Sisyphean effort. It's better to focus on knowing that YOU wrote something good, that YOU did not write the stereotype that those people are determined to see.

POINT #3: WHY is something a stereotype?

While there are lists of stereotypes against Black people in media and life that can be found, I would appreciate if people stopped approaching it as just a list of things you can check off to avoid. You can know what the stereotypes are, sure, but if you don't understand WHY they're a problem and how they play into perception of us, you'll either end up writing a flat character trying to avoid that list, or you're going to write other things related to that stereotype because "oh its not item #1"... and it'll still be racist.

For example: if you wrote a "sassy Black woman" that does a z formation neck rotation just because a store manager asked her something… that's probably stereotype. If you thought of a character that needed to be "loudmouthed", "sassy", and "strong" and a dark-skinned black woman was automatically what fit the profile in your mind, ding ding ding! THAT'S where you need to catch your racist biases.

But a dark-skinned Black woman character cursing out a store manager because she's had a really bad, stressful day and their attitude towards her pushed her over the edge may be in the wrong, but she's not an "angry Black woman". She's a Black woman that's angry! And if you wrote the day she had to be as bad as would drive anyone to overstimulation and anxiety, the blow up will make sense! The development and writing behind her led to this logical point (which connects to point #1!)

I'm not going to provide a truly exhaustive list of Black stereotypes in media because that would ACTUALLY be worth a college credited class and I do this for free lmao. But I am going to provide some classic examples that can get y'all started on your own research.

POINT #4: WATCH BLACK NARRATIVES!

As always, I'm gonna push supporting Black creators, because that's the best way to see the range of what you'd like. You want to see Black villains? We got those! Black heroes? Black antiheroes? Assholes, lovers, comedians, depressed, criminals, kings, and more? They exist! You can get inspired by watching those movies and reading those books, see how WE depict us!

I've seen mixed reviews on it, BUT- I personally really enjoyed Swarm, because it was one of the first times I'd ever seen that "unhinged obsessed murderous Black fan girl" concept. Tumblr usually loves that shit lmao. Even the "bites you bites you bites you [thing I love]" thing was there. And she liked girls, too. Just saying. I thought it was a fun idea that I'd love to see more of. Y'all gotta give us a chance to be in these roles, to tell these tales. We can do it too, and you'd enjoy it if you tried to understand it!

POINT#5: You are NOT Black!

This is obvious lmao, but if you're not Black, there's no need to pretend. There's no need to think "oh well I have to get a 100% perfect depiction of the Black person's mind". That's… That's gonna look cringe, at its best. You don't have to do that in order to avoid stereotypes. You're not going to be able to catch every nuance because it's not your lived experience, nor is it the societally enforced culture. Just… Do what you can, and if you feel like it's coming off hokey… Maybe consider if you want to continue this way lol. If you know of any Black beta readers or sensitivity reviewers, that'd be a good time to check in!

For example, if your Black character is talking about "what's good my homie" and there's absolutely no reason for him to be speaking that way other than to indicate that he's Black… 😬 I can't stop you but… Are you sure?

An egregious example of a TERRIBLE way to write a Black character is the "What If: Miles Morales/Thor" comic. I want to emphasize the lack of good Black character design involved in some of these PROFESSIONAL art spaces, because that MARVEL comic PASSED QA!! That comic went past NUMEROUS sets of eyes and was APPROVED!! IT GOT RELEASED!! NO ONE STOPPED IT!!

I'm sorry, it was just so racist-ly bad that it was hilarious. Like you couldn't make that shit up.

Anyway, unfortunately that's how some of y'all sound trying to write AAVE. I promise that we speak the Queen's English too lmao. If you're worried you won't get it right, just use the standard form of English. It's fine! Personally, I'd much rather you do that than try to 'decode AAVE' if you don't know how to use it.

My point is, if you're actively "forcing" yourself to "think Black"… maybe you need to stand down and reconsider your approach lmao. This is why understanding the stereotypes and social environment behind them will help you write better, because you can incorporate that Blackness- without having to verbally "emphasize how Black this is"- into their character, motivations, and actions.

Conclusion

We need to reconsider how we approach the concepts of stereotypes when writing our Black characters. The goal is not to cross off a checklist of things to avoid per se, but to understand WHY we have to develop our Black characters well enough to avoid incorporating them into our writing. Give your Black characters substance- we're human beings! We have motivations and fears and desires! We're not perfect, but we're not inherently flawed because of our race. That's what makes the difference!

And as always, and really in particular for this topic, it's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!

[sailorrhansol]

You. Always. | ksy (m)

❀ Pairing: Soonyoung x f. Reader 

❀ Summary: Soonyoung isn’t a jealous guy - he’s not. But sometimes it gets to him, the way other people look at you and fall a little in love with you. Don’t they know you have him? 

❀ Word Count: 5055

❀ Genre: Established Relationship, pwp

❀ Type: Smut, a little fluff

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: Almost jealous Soonyoung, a little hint of insecurity but nothing crazy, recreational drinking, Mingyu and Wonwoo lowkey being a little annoying and drunk, explicit language, explicit sexual content including unprotected vaginal sex, nipple play, oral (m. receiving), praise kink, pet names like baby and good boy, reader on top, spit and other bodily fluids, not explicit dom/sub dynamics but Soonyoung is very soft in this and reader is guiding him in parts, biting, both reader and Soonyoung are a little dazed and kinda spacy but it’s not explicitly subspace or described in the same way. 

❀ A/N: This is straight up from a dream I had, no joke. Woke up and was like I just had the weirdest dream about Soonyoung but it was in the Bahamas and a cruise ship was involved at some point but this is almost scene for scene from my dream. I feel blessed. 

❀ A/N 2: This was written entirely for @daechwitatamic and also thank you Jo for beta reading because I don’t know how to edit anything ever I’m baby

❀ Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

Main Masterlist ❀ Tag List Request Form ❀ Ask ❀

“Try this one,” Mingyu insists, laughing. He shoves a drink in your hand, all smiles and glittering eyes. You take the cup from him, the music of the club pulsing around you. A soft buzz ripples through you, a little drunk from the long day out in the sun followed by drinks at sunset, dinner and the afterparty. “It’s soooo good.” 

You trust Mingyu’s judgment - about drinks, anyway. Wonwoo cheers for you, clapping to the beat of the music as you bring the cup to your lips and knock it back. The soda mixed in the drink bubbles in the back of your throat but the taste of something strong burns and you cough, pulling the cup from your mouth with a grimace and squinted eyes.

Both of them begin laughing hysterically, throwing back their hands and clapping their hands. You laugh too, setting the cup down as you try and clear your throat from the liquid fire, tongue stuck out as you reach for a sweating glass of water. 

Wonwoo orders more drinks as you suck down water, freeing your mouth of the bitter taste of whatever it is they gave you. You turn on the stool, looking around the beachside club for Soonyoung. You catch him on the far side leaning against a wall, waiting for the bathroom. Sensing your gaze, he cranes his neck to look toward you, eyes pinning you to the spot immediately. 

Even from across the room, his gaze makes your stomach flip. You grin shyly, waving your hand a little. His lips twitch but his gaze shifts toward Mingyu and Wonwoo. His mouth tilts down a little before the bathroom door opens and he turns away entirely, vanishing down the hall. 

A server appears with a round of clear shots, setting them down on the table. Mingyu leans forward, picking one up with the intention of handing it to you, but you wave him off. “I’ll wait for Soonyoung.” 

Mingyu cranes his head. “Yeah, where the fuck did he go? I kind of forgot he was here.”

It isn’t Mingyu’s fault - he hasn’t known you for very long. Soonyoung has a habit of making friends anywhere the two of you go on vacation, though, and through the last week, you’ve managed to make Wonwoo and Mingyu regular friends while enjoying the summer off the coast of Greece. It had started with a volleyball game and now it has escalated to lunches, dinners and nightly escapades. 

Ever the talker - much like your boyfriend - Mingyu turns to the table next to yours and strikes up a conversation with the group of people there. Within a few minutes, he’s pulling their table to yours and shouting their names at you. You shake unfamiliar hands and grin, just happy to feel the balmy air on your skin and feel the heat of summer. 

Another round of drinks appears in clear, plastic cups, obeying the no glass on the beach rule. The beach club is lowkey and tucked away into the side of the mountain at the very end of the beach, requiring a trek through the sand to get there.

The area is open to the elements with wooden pavilions housing a few tables and benches. In the middle of the club is a long, illuminated shallow pool with tables for guests who are willing to take off their shoes and wade through the cool water to get there. 

You look down at the red drink in your hand, raising a brow as you watch everyone else throw the drink back, chugging as quickly as they can. When they put their cups down and realize you haven’t had yours, they immediately start yelling at you, Mingyu grabbing your forearm to shake you back and forth as he pouts and yells at you to chug.

“I’m gonna get too drunk,” you whine, holding onto the cup and trying not to spill the liquid as Mingyu complains. He pouts and gives you puppy eyes, clasping his hands together as he begs. Wonwoo and your new friends immediately join him, all of them peering up at you. 

“Please,” Wonwoo pleads from across the table, clasped hands tucked under his chin. “Please please please please.”

Before you can tip the cup back, it’s being pulled upward and out of your grip. You look up in surprise, mouth falling open as Soonyoung frees it from your grasp and tilts the cup to his lips. You watch as he drains it, head tilted back to expose the tan softness of his throat. Some of the red spills over the side, running down his chin and throat. 

You watch the beads of liquid, suddenly unable to focus on anything else but the way he looks in that moment. When you blink, Soonyoung’s head is no longer tilted as he leans forward to place the empty cup on the table. He doesn’t bother to wipe the red on his neck and you instinctively grab napkins as he throws himself in the booth across from you. 

He notices you holding them out and he takes them wordlessly, his energy shifted suddenly as he wipes the sticky red from his skin. If your new friends notice, they don’t say anything, cheering for him and then ordering more drinks as they shout over the music. 

When he left to use the restroom, your boyfriend had been in high spirits and a rowdy mood. Now, he’s subdued, eyes flickering between Wonwoo and Mingyu, a little darker than before. You frown, finishing the rest of your water as you drink in Soonyoung’s posture: slouched, mouth pouted, eyes narrowed.

Mingyu asks if you want another drink and you watch as Soonyoung’s mouth turns down. Ah. You decline and immediately Mingyu makes Soonyoung the same offer, but he shakes his head, suddenly interested in his phone. You think Mingyu notices this time that one of your party is clearly no longer in the drinking mood and disengages, turning easily to the others.

You nudge Soonyoung’s foot under the table. He looks up at you, a little dejected and shrugs his shoulders as if to say what? You nod your head toward the exit, raising your brows. He follows your meaning  and pauses for a moment, as though he’s torn between ending the night far earlier than usual or trying to endure his mood. 

Eventually, he nods, turning off his phone and shoving it in his pocket. You stand and announce that you’re feeling a little tired, but thank your friends for the drinks. They all immediately complain, begging you to stay for at least one more round.

“It’s always one more round with you all,” you shoot back. “We can catch up another day. I’m tired and honestly I really just want to lay in bed with my boyfriend.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Mingyu huffs, waving you off. “Do whatever it is couples do on vacation.”

Without a word, you hold your hand out to Soonyoung to leave. He stares at it for a moment before his mouth twitches upward and he takes it, lacing his fingers with yours. You give him a gentle squeeze as you lead toward the exit of the club, waving to the manager who is used to your group’s presence by now. 

Outside, the world is only lit by the moon. It sits high up in the sky, turning the world a dark blue as you and Soonyoung walk the beach. The quiet tension follows him outside of the club and down a few meters. You wait for him to say something, peeking at him from the corner of your eye.

In the years you’ve been dating, you’ve learned to read him pretty well. You know something about your interaction with Mingyu and Wonwoo bothers him, but you’re unsure of the specifics. Soonyoung isn’t a jealous boyfriend, but every once in a while there is something that bothers him. An old wound that peels open at the edge and stings him. 

You tug on his hand. He’s surprised, stumbling a little as you yank him off balance and into you. His cologne is laced with his own natural scent, making your head spin as your chests press together and you bring a hand up to his face, stroking a strand of dark hair out of his eyes. 

Soonyoung is beautiful. You’ve always thought so. Eyes that can go from intense to gentle, a round face that is somehow also sharp, a cute mouth prone to laughing. You’ve traced the lines of his face over and over again and still, every time you’re this close to him, you feel your heart skip a beat. 

“You’re not jealous, right?” 

He shakes his head imperceptibly. He looks down at you, bottom lip jutting out a bit. You fight a smile, trying to focus on making sure he’s okay instead of the way his face has melted from contemplative to pouting. 

“You can tell me if I did something that made you uncomfortable, you know that right?” 

He nods in tiny. His hands hang at his sides, like he’s hesitant to touch you. To do anything. You take his face in both of your hands, cocking your head to the side as you study him. “What’s the matter, baby? What’s bothering you?”

“I’m not jealous,” he starts and stops. You wait for him to continue. You’ve always been better at putting your thoughts to words than he has, and you know he just needs the time to organize them. “And you never do things that make me jealous. I just…” 

Ocean water surges behind you, the gentle push and pull of the swells the only sound as Soonyoung strings his thoughts together. You continue to cradle his face in your hands, thumb stroking back and forth on his cheek. You feel him lean into your touch, going a little weak under your attention. 

“I just know how easy it is to love you,” he finally says. He chews his bottom lip a little and you catch it with your thumb, keeping him from breaking the skin. “You are beautiful and charming, and I can always tell when other people realize it too. It isn’t that… I think you’d like them back or anything. I just feel possessive and then silly for feeling that way.” 

“It isn’t silly.”

“It isn’t?” 

You shake your head and his voice gets small and soft. “I don’t want it to seem insecure or annoying, and I don’t know why I suddenly felt that way. I usually don't.”

“It’s not silly,” you assure him again. “It’s okay to feel that way sometimes. You’re a human being and you’re allowed to feel things, even if you don’t necessarily know why or how you feel them.” 

“I’m sorry I made us leave early.”

“You didn’t make us do anything, and there is nothing to apologize for. I like going home and just spending time with you. I came here with you. We can make vacation friends all we want, but I have the most fun when you’re involved.”

His mouth twitches in a smile and he nods a little, affirmed by your words. “Can we go home?” 

“Mhmm.”

You lean up on your toes and press a quick kiss to his mouth. Immediately he wants more, chasing your lips but you skip away from him, tugging him along by his hand. He frowns, a little put out. You try not to giggle, feeling your stomach flip a little. 

Soonyoung is so rare like this. He loves being soft, but this is something even gentler. Something delicate and wonderful and endearing. You can’t help but keep him trailing after you, feeling the way his eyes linger on you. Hungry. Wanting. Needing. 

You keep him waiting. 

Catching a taxi up the mountain to the house you’re staying at is easy. The driver rolls the window down, letting the salty air drift in as he goes up and up. You lean against Soonyoung’s shoulder, putting your entwined hands in your lap. He melts into you, head atop yours and eyes fluttering shut as the breeze lifts his hair. 

You love him like this. He looks so young, so capable of love. It’s your favorite thing about him, his ability to love freely, deeply and often. There is so much affection and kindness in him, a well so deep that you have yet to hit the bottom. 

Soonyoung is a little drowsy when the taxi pulls up to the village square. He rouses with a mumbled thank you and clambours out the car behind you, eager to follow your lead up the winding steps that lead through the village houses.

It’s mostly quiet, with the echoes of voices drifting up from open windows and patios, the din of voices from restaurants in the main square hanging on the wind. You manage not to get lost this time as you navigate the winding pathways to the correct house, the blue fence blending in with the dozen other blue fences. 

The cicadas are quiet as you walk down the steps to the front of the home. You tap Soonyoung’s pockets and he blushes, forgetting he has the keys. He’s quick to produce them and pass them over, watching you expectantly as you unlock it and step into the darkness. 

Cool air drifts in from the open windows. There’s no air conditioning in the rented house, but the ocean wind that comes in at night through open shutters is enough to cool you off. 

Soonyoung is quiet. He follows your lead up the stairs to the second floor where the bedroom is, lingering in the doorway when you drop his hand and turn to face him as you walk backward into the room. He’s hypnotized as you unbutton the top of your shirt slowly, staring at him. 

The way he looks at you ignites a fire inside of you. No one else could look at you like this, equal parts reverence and hunger. No one else could make your hands shake as you stare at him staring at you, his lips parted a little, tongue darting out to wet them as he swallows. 

Your blouse falls open and you shuck it off, letting it hit the floor. Moonlight paints your side profile. Soonyoung doesn’t dare move from the door until you hold out a hand, palm upward. “Come here,” you whisper. He obeys immediately, nearly tripping over his feet to get to you. 

His hands go around your waist, warm against your skin. You wind your arms around his neck, pulling him in close, fingers threading in his hair and pulling a little. He lets out a soft sound as you tilt his face toward yours, forcing him to meet your eyes. His pupils are blown and you can feel his heart thundering against yours. 

“You know I love you more than anything else, right?” For a second, he just stares at you, eyes fixated on your mouth. You pull his hair a little more and he sucks in a sharp breath before nodding a little. He seems too dazed to do more than the barest acknowledgement. “Do you want me to show you?” 

You lean up to brush your nose against his. Soonyoung’s eyes fall shut and you feel a shiver go through him. His breath is unsteady when you brush your mouth against his in an almost kiss. “Do you want me to show you how much I love you, Soonyoung?” 

He nods again, unable to find words. Your nails scratch at his scalp gently and he lets out a breathy moan, melting in your hands. “Okay,” you whisper, pressty a soft kiss to his mouth. He tries to chase your lips again but you step back and tug at him. “Come lay down.” 

Soonyoung obeys. He’s always been a good boy, but having him like this isn’t common. You like to think that you’re both equal parts in charge in the bedroom, flowing with whatever the other needs. Having him like this, sitting down on the bed and looking up at you like you cradle his world in your hands though… it lights you up. 

“Lay back for me,” you instruct gently. He does immediately, bouncing a little on the mattress. You climb onto the mattress, knees on either side of his waist as you crawl up toward him, settling your weight on his hips. Immediately his hands reach toward your hips and stop, hovering as he gets stuck between doing what he wants and waiting for you to tell him. “Go ahead,” you whisper, leaning toward him. “Take whatever you want. You can have whatever.” 

Warm hands grip your waist. Your fingers expertly undo the buttons of his shirt and you make sure to brush them against his stomach as you move upward. You feel the muscles jump and he lets out another breathy sound. His hands just remain on your sides, not ready to explore more as he fixates on the way you pull his shirt off of his shoulders.

He’s a little clumsy when he leans up to help you shuck it off. You don’t care, surging forward to capture his mouth in a full kiss as he does. He forgets all about taking the shirt off, sleeves halfway down his arms as he leans forward to lick into your mouth, hungry and desperate for whatever you’ll give him.

You don’t hold back, letting him consume you. His mouth is warm and wet, tasting faintly of cherry from one of the drinks he had earlier. You love it, humming delightly as your hands brush from his shoulders to where his shirt is stuck near the elbows. You tug but the material is restricted, making you break away from the kiss with a laugh. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles, letting your hips go to take the shirt all the way off. 

Immediately your hands seek the heat of his skin, brushing from his shoulders to his chest and down his stomach and back up, fingers loving every groove and plane. He shivers under your touch, eyes fluttering shut. “You’re so pretty,” you whisper, pushing him back gently so that he’s laying down again. He lets you trace him, though you can feel his hips twitch under you, turned on by your exploration. “So pretty, Soonyoung. Do you know that?” 

Again, he gives the tiniest nod. You smile and lean forward, holding yourself up by planting a hand on either side of his head. You catch his mouth again and he lifts his head up, eager to taste you. A hum of appreciation escapes you as you kiss him slowly, pressing your hips down into his. 

Soonyoung moans and it’s so delicate that it makes you dizzy. You feel fucked out from this version of him already, the room spinning as you rut gently into him. You grab his hands that rest on your ass and pull them up your sides to your bra, a command. 

He understands immediately, pulling at the clasps to undo the back. You break the kiss again, mouth feeling bruised, to lean up and toss the garment. His hands find your chest immediately and you feel goosebumps burst on your skin at his touch, large hand squeezing. 

You let him rub his thumb over your pert nipples, spiking the pleasure in your stomach. You let out a light sound and shiver in his hands, ducking back down to press your mouth to his lips, the corner of his mouth, his chin - anywhere you can kiss. 

His skin is salty and sweet, your tongue darting out to soothe his flesh after a sharp bite. He’s putty beneath you, completely at your mercy as your mouth maps out the way you love him. Every kiss, bite and lick is another declaration: I love you. I love you. I love you. 

Light moans drip from his lips as you pepper him with kisses. Dragging your teeth across his chest lightly, you watch as he shivers and squeezes his eyes shut. Grinning, you move your mouth over his nipple, tongue flicking out lightly. A sharp hiss escapes through his gritted teeth, his head digging backward into the bed as he arches under you. 

“Fuck,” he gasps. 

A hum escapes you as you close your mouth over his nipple, sucking gently. He’s so sensitive, whining and squeezing your sides. You trail your mouth across his chest, leaving a wet trail as you do before dragging your teeth across his other nipple. 

“Pretty,” you mumble again, moving your mouth lower. You teeth at his skin as you go, feeling him twitch beneath you. His hands drop to the sheet, twisting them in a vice grip as he lets you scoot down his lap until you’re off the bed and on the carpet, undoing his pants as you go. 

Getting him out of his pants is hard - Soonyoung is loose-limbed and clumsy, hands shaking as he helps you pull the fabric down followed by his briefs. You let out an appreciative moan when you take his cock in your hand, heavy, warm and leaking at the tip. 

He can barely keep it together when you stroke him, hand firm, thumb brushing over the sticky tip. You watch every reaction, eyes focused on the flush in his cheeks, the way he chews on his bottom lip to try and keep from whimpering, the way his fingers twist in the blankets. 

“So perfect,” you whisper, leaning up to kiss his inner thighs as you continue to work him with your hand. His hips twitch upward and you let him, continuing to run your tongue along his thigh. “You’re the perfect boyfriend.” 

“Hnnn,” is the mumbled answer. 

Leaning up high on your knees, you tilt his cock toward your mouth, licking leisurely around the tip. He keens and you smirk, feeling your cunt clench as you take him in your mouth properly, spurred on by the way he falls apart instantly. 

This is another thing you love. It doesn’t matter the dynamic, Soonyoung always crumbles at your touch - craves it, needs it, wants it more than anything. It’s hard not to feel like a god as you hear him pant your name, watch the way the breath catches in his throat as you take him deep into your throat, the flat of your tongue scraping the underside of his cock as you go. 

You’re not clean with it. You let spit drip out the corner of your mouth, let yourself gag a little. Work what you can’t fit past your lips with the rest of your hand, getting carried away. His hand shoots to your head - he doesn’t push or pull, just leaves it there, like it can ground him.

Pulling off with a loud pop, you give his shaft a squeeze, kissing the inside of his thigh again. A mix of cum and spit shine in the moonlight when you pull your mouth away. 

“I love seeing you like this,” you rasp. “Love watching you fall apart.”

“Please,” he gasps, managing to lift his head up and look down at you. His hair is damp with sweat and his eyes are fucked out, gaze unfocused. “Don’t wanna come in your mouth.”

“I’ve got you.” You give a single, long lick up his shaft for good measure, feeling him tremble before you stand up to take your pants off. He makes a pitiful sound, hand shooting toward you, hating being away from you. “One second, baby. Sorry.” 

“S’okay.” 

Naked, you crawl up the bed again. His hands shoot to your thighs, kneading the flesh and rubbing his palms up and down, warming you up. You feel the wetness drip down your thighs, worked up from working him up. From the way he moans when you press your pussy to his cock, you know he can feel it. 

“All good?” you ask gently, pressing your forehead against his. His eyes are closed and he’s breathing hard, a sheen of sweat on his brow. You hold yourself over him with one hand and bring the other up to brush the hair off his forehead. “Too much?”

He shakes his head. “No, just. Sensitive.”

“Mhmm. You’ll tell me if it’s too much?”He nods in tiny, opening his eyes to look up at you like you’re the sun, the moon, and all of his stars. “Good boy,” you breathe and he moans, hips canting upward to rub his cock against your folds. “I love you.”

He nods again, eager and desperate. “Love you.”

Sitting up on your knees, you reach a hand under you, gripping him firmly. Soonyoung opens his eyes, making sure to watch your every move with swollen, parted lips and half-lidded eyes. You feel drunk from the way he looks at you, as hypnotized by him as he is of you.

You press the tip of his cock against your entrance, both of you groaning. Carefully, you sink down on him, your breath getting stuck in your throat. The stretch punches the breath from your lungs but it’s good, the ache replaced with something stronger, better. He fills up every part of you - you feel him deep in your stomach as you fully seat yourself on him, ass pressed to his pelvis as you fight for air. 

“Fuck, Soonyoung,” you mutter, falling forward to plant a hand on his chest. You lean your weight forward, pushing him into the mattress and holding yourself up. You can feel his thundering heart under your palm, beat matching your own pounding pulse. “Feel so good.”

“Wanna be. Wanna be for you.”

“You are. You always are. I could never want anything else, you know that right?” A tiny, barely there nod. “You make me feel so good. Always do.” 

“Please.”

You know what he’s asking. You give it to him, slowly lifting yourself until you’ve almost pulled off him entirely. You drop back down hard, knocking the breath from your lungs as you spear yourself on him. It is intoxicatingly good, pleasure rippling outward like a stone dropped in a lake. You chase the feel, repeating the motion until you’re nearly mindless and out of breath. 

“Shit,” you swear, laughing a little as your head drops down. You can’t focus on anything but rolling your hips, fucking yourself onto him as his hands grab your ass, not controlling you but gripping fiercely. “God damn fuck.”

Soonyoung laughs, deep and gravely as the cockiness you’re used to bleeds back in for a moment. “Yeah?”

You clench your cunt as you sink down on him, making him let out a high-pitched noise at the move and you grin. “Yeah,” you shoot back. “Thought so.” 

A knot twists in your stomach as you set a smooth pace, thighs burning. Pleasure ribbons through you, twisting and turning, his hands dimpling your flesh. He lets you keep your pace at first, taking everything you give him, his feet planted flat on the mattress as he tries to contain himself, curses escaping between clenched teeth.

Your legs tremble. Your nails dig into the hard muscle of his chest. He senses your movements get a little strained, the pleasure making it harder to focus on lifting yourself. You feel his grip on your ass change, Soonyoung putting power behind it to help lift you up and pull you back down. He thrusts up to meet you, the wet squelch of his harder thrusts intoxicating. 

“Fuck yeah,” you gasp, giving up the pretense of riding him and letting him take over. “Fuck me just like that.” 

It’s all he needs before his grip turns iron and he’s fucking up into you with abandon. Your hand slips on his chest as the power of his thrusts knock you off balance. You let yourself crash together, chest against chest. Soonyoung wraps his arms around your back, holding you to him. 

Your mouth finds his neck, burying your face in there as you try to steady your breathing. It feels like your heart might explode, his name falling from your lips as you press them against his neck. He mumbles something unintelligible, pace picking up. 

“Shit,” you pant. “Shit shit shit shit - Soonyoung - shit.” 

He huffs, something like laughter before his pace is brutal. He fucks you fast and deep, your mind blanking as you crest upward. All you can do is hold on to him, mouth panting against his throat, your muscles squeeze squeeze squeezing until you’re coming hard. 

Everything goes blank. Your ears ring and you’re vaguely aware of his wild thrusts as he chases his orgasm. You melt in his grip, letting him use you, completely boneless. 

Soonyoung growls your name as he comes, pace slowing as he fucks you deep until he stills. You feel the stickiness between you and the way he’s still shaking. You rise and fall with his heavy breathing, both of your heartbeats erratic and thoughts staticky. 

You lay there like that for a while, a pile of exhausted limbs and few thoughts. His arms loosen their grip around you and he starts rubbing his hands up and down your back. It draws you back into the moment more and you open your eyes to look up at him. 

Soonyoung’s eyes are closed and his breathing is deep. You can tell he isn’t asleep, but rather enjoying the moment, his face tilted toward the window where the moon floats over the mountains. He looks so pretty like this, face soft and serene. 

“You’re staring at me,” he murmurs, his voice low and spent. “You could at least tell me I’m pretty.”

“I just did. Several times.”

His mouth tilts upward but he doesn’t open his eyes. “I like hearing it.”

“Fine. You’re the prettiest boy.” 

“Hmm. Yeah?”

“Yes. And I love you.”

“Say it again.” Soonyoung opens his eyes and they meet yours. They’re clearer now, and crinkled at the sides when he gives you a smile that feels far too innocent for the fluids running down your thighs and the way your cunt still clenches around him. “I like when you say it.”

“I love you.” 

He smirks. “Just me?”

You lean up and nip his neck. He giggles, leaning away from you. “You. Always.” 

He sighs. “Me,” he agrees. “Always.” 

-

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[writingmochi]

part 2

cast: heeseung ✗ fem.reader (ft. the peeps, enhypen, and other idols)

synopsis: when you told your long-term rival and latest hook-up, heeseung, that you are pregnant with his child; you didn't expect said topic to be involved in your rivalry!

genre: romantic comedy, slice of life, coming-of-age, slow burn, drama, rivals since childhood to [redacted], college/university au, pregnancy au, future parents au, fluff, angst, mature content (explicit smut)

word count: 36351 (36.3k) out of 60550 (60.5k)

warning(s): so many curse words!, implication of abortion, rejection, depression, mention of cigarettes, mentions of consumption of alcohol, explicit description of active labor and childbirth, blood, explicit sex, pregnant sex, pretty rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up tho guys), hand job (m & f receive), oral job (m & f receive), dirty talk with pet names (daddy & mama), marking, multiple orgasms, creampies (if there is something that i forgot, let me know)

message of the moon: remember that this story is fiction and do be careful and read the warnings at the top. all the idols mentioned here are not what they are in real life.

i genuinely didn't expect THAT much attention on the first part! here is the rest and yes, the word count increased by 2k words. thank you so much for the love and support on the first part and enjoy! p.s. all the links will be edited including from the character intro and the first part!

soundtrack | read part 1 first!

3. the heat of lightning is 30.000° celsius

“bro, innie. your stream is starting.” chaeryeong calls out from the couch as the setup of jeongin’s camera and lights are standing in front of her. jimin brought in the snacks and put them on the coffee table right in front of ryujin and minjeong who sitting on either side of you. beomgyu and heeseung follow suit, sitting on the other dining table seats brought to the living area while jeongin is setting up his stream on obs.

you could see—from the mini setup of his—the chat scrolling up as you watched them get familiarized with the names that had come back from when jeongin asked you and the girls to join him on his last stream. his viewers seemed to enjoy it so much that another one was scheduled the next day, which is today after lots and lots of matching up free time schedules. as jeongin sat in between minjeong and jimin, he used his wireless mouse to change the static “starting soon” screen so chat could see all of you on the screen inside the boys’ apartment. the apartment that you’ve been hanging around about for the past month.

jeongin starts with, “ey, welcome chat!”

“WELCOME! WOO!” ryujin’s fanfare sounded as you heard the laughter being thrown all around you.

“since you guys have been wanting to for us to play again together since the last stream we did, well surprise, surprise! here we are!” the others seemed to hype him up as jeongin continued to speak. minjeong playfully slaps your hand as you try to not knock your headset that is lightly placed on your belly and playing classical music—something that heeseung’s mom told you could help with the babies inside you—as none of jeongin’s viewers have noticed your pregnancy bump with the successful oversized maternity top you shopped alongside beomgyu. jeongin continues to greet the chat on today’s stream.

“we did mario kart last time but now we will do mario party. but not just any mario party, courtesy of smosh games: we’re doing reverse mario party where the last place is the winner.”

“finally, (y/n) can win-“

“SHUT THE FUCK UP HEESEUNG.” you throw the pillow behind you, right towards him as beomgyu stood up to massage your shoulder, hyping you up while heeseung playfully glares at you.

“also, this is chaereyong’s idea. but we decided to not make this stream another "boys vs girls" type, but more so a mixed group with these wooden chopsticks inside the mug here helps in picking which person is in which team.” jeongin holds onto the mug as he pushes it towards each person, picking up the chopsticks one by one. in a countdown, all of you show the chopsticks you picked together as heeseung find his one marked—the same along with you, beomgyu, and ryujin: making you four a team.

the seating arrangements change as you are seated in between the two boys. you’ve already told them that you might not get too physical as you let ryujin and beomgyu play first, playing as luigi and waluigi, respectively. heeseung can hear how you are encouraging your team to play bad as your arms wrap behind beomgyu’s back, making heeseung feel a little iffy but he is just rolling his eyes watching the two using his switch controllers that jeongin asked him to lend out for the eight-peopled stream.

for the past month, as the two groups got closer, heeseung realized how strong your influence is. maybe it’s because you are used to taking care of children—just like his friends’ childish behaviors are—but your demeanor matches well with all of them. when heeseung heard beomgyu invited you and your girls over, he was taken aback by just how easily both groups can blend in with each other. but then he is reminded of what you said on that basketball court: how you want to have a truce with him. how he is so much more ahead of you that you deviate from the sport of basketball that you still seem to enjoy.

heeseung couldn’t join much of the hangout as he was being brought into the season’s games and competing left to right. the scream of his name from the bleachers rings in his ears as he recognizes a few of his fans and decelis’ fans supporting the team as he checks his phone during the break. he remembers how he caught a notification from jeongin’s stream, pressing the banner to see you appearing on it with him as you play guess the song or some sort of game similar to it. then, he remembered one day after you both came out of the doctor park’s office for your biweekly check-up. a sudden proposition you push to him as you hold your phone with the screen showing a familiar social media.

“i’ll follow your instagram and you follow mine back.”

“why?” he questioned, arms wrapped in front of him with squinting eyes.

“that’s another baby step for us to be like what our moms want it to be. you say so yourself.” you also replied with your own wrapped arms in front of you, letting the flowy cloth be pushed towards your body as he could see the shape of it and the appearance of your revealing bump. heeseung let out a groan as he said his username.

“which is your full name?” you raised an eyebrow.

“hey, it’s for personal branding and it’s rare to have a username to be your name…”

you snicker as you hit the follow button, seeing the three-digit number on top now becoming four.

“really? i’m your 1000th follower?” you playfully grab something out of the chest pocket of heeseung’s unbuttoned shirt, placing it near your heart like a badge of rare achievement.

“i’m honored.” your face scrunches, forcing out a tear that is not showing, making you blame your current stable hormone for that not happening. heeseung looked at the notification showing up, a snort coming out of him as he leaned his head closer.

“for fucking real? you’re asking me about why my username is like that while yours is mu- mune ga-“

“mune ga hachikire-sode, ‘my chest seems like it’s going to burst’.” you answered so quickly it’s like you have talked about it before that it became an automated response, earning a pregnant pause as you tilted your head towards him while he stares towards your vicinity. a small gap in between his lips as time passes by without sound between the two of you before he closes the gap and smiles.

“must be a freaking mitski lyric.”

you snorted out a laugh, wondering why he knows you so well.

heeseung gazes at how his friends and your friends seem to thrive under your hyper-ness, even making ryujin jokingly angry because you were unintentionally supporting the other team, making you let out the pout that he doesn’t expect to witness so much from when the semester starts. and now, as it approaches the end with the new year’s coming alongside the gender reveal party coming soon and the last matches for the tournament near the end of the year. life seems to go so fast for him, yet here you are thriving in it. as if you are influenced by some kind of deity that is making people around you notice and care about your presence, frolicking around as you seem to make their lives a tad bit easier to face with your motherly care and, what he acknowledge, your emotional intelligence.

something heeseung had also grown for the past 3 months since you told him you're pregnant with his kids.

the boy realized just how quiet he was when he sensed your shoulder touching his as you leaned back against the sofa to just stare at the screen of jimin screaming how he had to get another star, making him now in first place. a soft smile on your face as you glance at your friends having fun before you feel the trembles against your thigh when you catch heeseung’s leg jittering from how he is moving his achilles’ heel in a random rhythm.

“you alright?” heeseung looks down to find your hand on top of his pant-covered thigh. you give him a thin lip frown as you let your touch soothe him down, seemingly not minding the entire history you have with him. the boy is suddenly too embarrassed to see you as you watch the redness growing on both of his cheeks. you wanted to tease him about it—maybe it’s the awkwardness cause he was not there when you started to get close to his friends—that is showing up now.

as you look at your hand against his thigh, courtesy of your muscles' memory telling you to try soothing every nervous child in your way, you retreat it back to your space before beomgyu wraps his arm around your back to pull you into his embrace while you see the stars and coins are being tallied up alongside additional stars that are given. beomgyu has both hands around your and ryujin’s shoulders as you follow with the momentum, seeing that ryujin got last place–making your team win the first round of mario party.

beomgyu handed the switch controller to his best friend as the game resets for the second round where it is you and heeseung vs. minjeong and jeongin—said girl is focusing on the chat because she is convinced that she caught sungchan’s username there. your cursor instantly picks at rosalina whilst heeseung moves his to pick bowser. peeking to the side, you recognize the competitiveness that is shown from how heeseung is glaring towards the tv screen as you try to flick that same emotion on in your mind. when you feel it tainting you, you give minjeong a sly wink from where you are sitting. that even though she’s one of your best friends, you’re not taking her lightly.

the second game was a tad bit chaotic as physical play was done when jeongin seemed to make mind games by positioning himself behind where you and heeseung sit. yet, the rivalry doesn’t just create between your team and the other team; heeseung has also started playing dirty when he grabs onto your controller to stop you from failing the task.

“ughh!” you groan out as you hear the laugh coming from jimin on the other sofa, making you answer by covering heeseung’s eyes as he couldn’t see where his bowser was supposed to fell off the platform, proclaiming him to win the match and increase the ever-loving coins he owns, making him have to buy the star if he came across it: only five more spaces to go on the board. the way you hinder him from failing and he does the same to you creates a slapstick that jeongin’s chat seems to revel in as you spot jimin reading the text that is running to the top of the monitor as fast as the light goes.

“woah!” he proclaimed as you noticed chaeryeong snickering from the rapidly moving chat. “people seemed to ship you and heeseung, (y/n).”

“no kidding.” you reacted as you stared at the way your rosalina was three spots closer to the star—no choice but to buy one as you got over 20 coins. your body forces you to stand up as you kneel to see the chat, eyes glancing between four points on the screen of jeongin’s laptop: the chat who is now arguing on who are the “correct” ships within the people here, the screen as minjeong rolls the dice for her shy guy to move, beomgyu who leans back against the sofa’s backrest, and heeseung who is leaning forward to the screen before you caught his eyes for a few milliseconds.

“come on, chat. really? me and heeseung?” you audibly scoffed, glancing at your friends that is showing on the stream a few seconds later from the latency. “what about me and beomgyu? he’s also nice to me.”

“I SURE DO, (Y/N).” he said as you could detect him grinning with two thumbs up before he rested his hands behind the sofa by your empty seat. but you could see heeseung’s very obvious scowl as he didn’t say anything. the determination to lose against you may now be influenced with an even more push—because you did say to him that you’re the one losing in your battle.

“not your mods creating a poll for who shipped (y/n) with whom and the fact that (y/n) x jeongin is pretty high too.” chaeryeong stated as you tried to hold back your laughter. with the knowledge; which you’ve just known as you started hanging out with the boys; that jeongin’s mom is an ob-gyn doctor also, he has let you talk to his mom when it’s jeongin’s turn to “babysit” you—"per heeseung’s request" he said—making you show up on jeongin’s stream more often than the other girls as you and he create a more sibling vibe where he teaches you how to game. with the help of every woman around you including jeongin’s mom, you could say that you can expect what you’ll expect for your second and third trimesters and your birth. how jeongin’s mom and doctor park’s sayings are pretty much similar in a way as they remind you that you have to give birth to your twins before week 40 so that they could fit through your hip bone since you want to do it the normal way.

you were glad beomgyu had invited you to meet up. because you felt like you’d met brand new people with whom you seemed to have a sense of familiarity. like old friends having a reunion.

“WOAH! (y/n) x heeseung is no.1!” jimin reacted as all of you heard the chime of a gift sent to jeongin followed by a text-to-speech sound.

“(y/n) and heeseung’s bickering is something i aspire to have with my significant other.” the robot voice sounds as you watch ryujin’s wide eyes getting larger, knowing your real-life relationship as she has been there the longest as of right now alongside beomgyu who is just holding a subtle sheepish smirk.

“bickering because we aren’t compatible with each other? yeah right,” you give a verbal jab as you can see the comments updating a few seconds later when your words are streamed, making people send the sus emote in the chat column but also a few “opposites attract” and “you can get to know each more” comments as you looked at heeseung. the corner of his lips rose as you gave up on reading the chat before sitting down back to your empty seat. your body was instantly ignited in surprise as you could feel how beomgyu was holding your shoulder, stretching his arm behind your shoulders as you were trying your best to use your special dice to lose. then, you sensed a shift on your thigh as you find heeseung’s moving his against yours, either to distract you… or to tell you something you haven’t realized.

-

heeseung was heaving as the coach took him out of the court to the sidelines to bring sungho in as his replacement. drops of sweat are forming on his exposed forearm while he watches the score of his team nearing 50 in the game's last quarter. sunoo gave him a small towel as he looked to the back to only see none of his friends on the bleachers. other than ryujin, all of them are watching the want2dance crew showcase—you and beomgyu have no information circulating even though his turn to take care of you. heeseung should’ve been ecstatic that he got the ticket for the finale that easily. sure, the rival is strong enough, but with niki now standing as a center alongside sunghoon, they’ve been able to block the shots of the other team with their long limbs and agile jumps.

yet, all he could worry about was how much he had learned for the next appointment with the doula as he was trying to beat you with the advantage you had by the women all around you—including jeongin’s mom he had hidden as a wildcard now exposed to you.

he tried to familiarize his hands with how to hold a baby with a plushy jeongin still owned in his room before he tried using the full 2-liter water bottle he had that was identical to the real weight. heeseung had read the books that the doula recommended to him—well, heard the books that doula had recommended as he worked out with the audiobook version speaking to his ears. yet, the only thing that miss haseul said that he is stuck in his mind as he looks at you who is closing your eyes whilst you stretch your back because of his babies is…

“don’t just stand there.”

heeseung doesn’t just stand there, he does things he tried to help; preparing groceries so that you don’t have to worry about that, carrying your bags around so you don’t have to walk as your stomach is getting bigger than ever from the growing fetuses. yet he knew what the phrase actually implies.

“don’t just stand there.” take care of her, be there for her, love her.

but how could heeseung love you when you’ve been such a pest in his life? sure, that night at the basketball court is a step of progress towards normalcy in your relationship, but, just like you said. baby steps are needed as you both had hurt each other so much; after he now knows of what you feel in the catalyst of why you hate each other and how you also know of his.

the coach’s board is pushed in front of him as he traces the magnetic jersey symbol with the number 3 representing his position as the small forward if he got to be put on the court once again. since jake is playing as the point guard and how he had been killing it in slipping through the rival’s defense, heeseung’s job is to find an opening so he can throw the ball to either jake or sungho who will stay nearer to the half-circle if heeseung got put in.

“or just try to shoot as many 3-pointers as you like. we have the advantage here and our goal is to make that gap wider. passing 50 would be great.” coach min said, making heeseung turn his head towards the scoreboard, seeing the 45:36 bold in the red LED lights. and with his mind not wanting to wait more for his appointment, his gaze changes as he sounds his understanding to the coach. heeseung stretched his neck when he viewed the coach walk to the side referee so he could be switched back in.

heeseung explains as best as he able to the other four of the court about the plan, making jake and sungho nod their heads and niki with taesan at the back of their side of the court showing their own styles of understanding. the ball was thrown by the rival as taesan snatched it, pivoting on his legs before giving a bounce pass towards heeseung who was running pass the center line near the 3-pointer curve. his head is going into alert mode as he maneuvers the ball so that the rival who is pinning on him won’t steal it. a few passes between him, taesan, and niki; heeseung found an opening to go inside near the basket as he surged forward like a tank, making his own opening as he passed the ball to jake who scored a layup. heeseung recognized the rival could get a free throw chance, but he doubted it would go in as jake and sungho were prepared for a rebound with the second free throw.

the score is now 49:38 as he could see the time is now under 60 seconds. heeseung took control of the ball the most while he tried his best to find an opening for either jake or sungho, but with the change of two players from the other team coming in: they seemed to know his strategy as not one of them was bamboozled by how fast the passes are between him, niki, and taesan. the others figured out they had only one chance left to do a foul. they knew they only had 15 seconds till the shot clock ran out and under 30 seconds on the time of the scoreboard. heeseung realized something, something that can be stupid but will have a better chance of a happy ending in the end.

as heeseung bounces the ball on the ground towards niki—not strong enough like the last few times—the rival successfully robbed the ball as the shot clock resets. all the boys retreated as heeseung was the first one to hold off on the guy who was holding the ball, seemingly not knowing what to do with the ball in his possession. heeseung knows that they’re doing this to play defense against decelis because they don't want the gap to get even wider.

their passes aren’t as quick as his team's when taesan successfully clutches the ball and passes it to heeseung. the clock is under 5 seconds and he heard the growing sound of people counting down from the seats. he knew he couldn’t lay up as it would be too far or even shooting in the safer throwing area even if it gave a higher chance is risky. no, heeseung flung the ball as best as he could after passing the center line. the buzzing sound signals the end of the game as heeseung stares at the ball falling in an arch so perfectly that it gets caught by the net and instantly falls through with no theatrics, making everyone roar.

“there it is, folks. lee heeseung, number 1 from decelis, makes the game as he scores a 3-pointer buzzer-beater. AND SUCCEEDED. congratulations to hybe’s decelis. you will enter the grand finale after the new year’s celebration.”

he could sense the embrace of his teammates around him. jungwon is the closest as he playfully brushes his sweaty hair, making him glare, and wants to go out of the embrace when it’s two layers of players deep. coach min comes and gives his own thumbs up before guiding him near the referee's place as he and his team are met with the rivals, who show their sportsmanship by shaking their hands. heeseung recognizes of one of the players when said player wraps his arm around his shoulders. the announcer with a small bundle full of snacks.

“and here he is. player of the match, lee heeseung of decelis!”

heeseung hears the ovations coming from the decelis side of the bleachers as he receives the bundle, knowing that he would ravish this in one go because, my god, is he starving. congratulatory talks are spoken among the players as if it’s more of a friendly match rather than in a tournament setting, yet as heeseung walks around to meet the team he had his match with, the reminder of the appointment pinned on his mind rings once again.

pulling up to the assigned locker room, he pulls off his jersey so he can wipe his sweaty body using a smaller towel that is wet with water cause he doesn’t think that he has enough time to shower when the appointment is in an hour. feeling the clean wet towel getting rid of the stickiness on his body, he eyes his teammates who are still gleaming from their win of the ticket to the grand final. yet, for heeseung, he had been numb to the feeling. of course, he had to do well with basketball because it was for his scholarship, but knowing that he had possibly secured the scholarship for his final semester, he could actually relax from it and focus on other things in life.

his desire to be a sports journalist and, now, his preparation to be a dad.

“guys, i’m not gonna join to eat after this,” he spoke out after he heard jake asking him. a regular post-match meal is a tradition with the decelis guys. but heeseung has other places to go as he uses his body spray all over his torso and tucks his head and arms into his clean t-shirt, the decelis jersey’s bottom with the #1 still in place, and a pair of recovery sandals to let his feet breathe. heeseung gave the guys his bag of cheetos from the ‘player of the match’ bundle as little cookies and chocolates are enough to satiate his needs, knowing that he could buy takeout as he returned to his apartment, or if you also wanted to grab something to eat after meeting haseul.

the engine groans as the car turns alive. heeseung pulls out of the parking lot of the arena as he drives towards the office, the radio playing his own bluetooth-connected music as he recovers himself from the euphoria of the match, returning to the reality of his other responsibilities. he hadn’t heard from you for a while—when usually you are the one to nag if he has arrived or about his whereabouts as you prepare yourself to meet him. he was glad that he could enjoy the calmness even for just a few minutes, seeing the various silhouettes of the outside world passing by when the office building shows up in his sight from his windshield.

heeseung presses the button to lock the car as he approaches the office in his post-match outfit, a tote bag hanging from his shoulders that is filled with the notes haseul, doctor park, and jeongin’s mom gave to him printed as he might ask for some elaboration about it. though most doulas focus on the mom, he is glad that haseul can also handle first-time fathers as well because, as she said, “sometimes the dad is the more anxious one out of the two.” he acknowledges this because, as he had a talk with his own dad about this, the pregnancy is out of the dad’s control most of the time. especially in giving birth, as the only thing that they could do was to observe how the birthing was going. which means that he has to trust you to do your deed.

he recalled haseul given him and you a “bonding” exercise which is filled with laughter instead as both of you couldn’t be serious enough about this. how you both had to stay in eye contact for 5 minutes to “feel your connection getting tighter”. sometimes, he had to blink or look away from your eyes cause it was piercing with unknown emotions. but he got reminded of when both of you had sex, that final part when he is just staring at you as you sit on his shaft, grinding to find out who will cum first to break the tie. the feeling was similar—an unspoken bond created between the two full of complex history and emotions he has to untangle one by one.

heeseung’s knuckles knocked on the door as he heard the movement inside. the door opened to let him see haseul in her professional clothing.

“heeseung! come in.” she steps aside as he is met with haseul and…

nobody else.

“where’s (y/n)?”

haseul turns her head to him, “i thought you knew, she didn’t say that we’re cancelling today’s appointment.”

“hmm…” heeseung replied as he grabbed his phone, seeing the instagram notifications from the people who tagged him in the match for being the ‘player of the match’. but, when he sees your account profile flashing on the top—the newly followed account as you both did a follow-for-follow—he taps the icon to see you and beomgyu in your instagram stories, how you hooked your arm with beomgyu’s as you walk down a sidewalk, how you recorded chaeryeong dancing with her crew and tag her, how he had seen a photo of you, beomgyu, minjeong, jeongin, chaeryeong, and jimin after the show, and a photo of food at the end as he sees you tag all of his friends and yours, including ryujin who seemed to be available to do a get together because of her modeling appointment.

all except him.

to say that heeseung is heartbroken by that is an understatement. sure not all of his guys are available to watch him play all the time—only jeongin showed up to his quarter-final match last time, but to realize that the change of dynamic happened because of you is making the flint in his heart move faster to ignite the fire. and to know that you didn’t even cancel the appointment, to leave haseul hanging, when you have babies to take care of as you have used your own money to pay for the appointment, while you do a get-together that can be done anytime during the rest of the 3 months of your pregnancy. the changes within the dynamic for the past two months are ridiculous and heeseung…

all he could do was sigh as he closed his phone, glancing up to glance at haseul who had a warm smile on her face.

“well, i have a few things i hope you elaborate on.” the boy said, using this appointment to help him be the better parent.

-

“shit!”

you had to stop yourself from walking as you perceived the contractions coming from your uterus, the same feeling when you had your period, yet it’s dimmer and longer. as the weather gets colder, you tucked your coat that is draping outside of your maternity dress and legging on. you have to thank chaeryeong once again for helping you put it on. the two of them continue to grow inside you as you walk the familiar path towards the boys’ apartment, as per heeseung request cause jeongin told him they wanted to play a game together and you, being the new addition to jeongin’s stream, seemed to be asked to join in.

you could deny it. but you can join cause you have nearly all of your class projects finished, especially the marketing research one as you use the daycare as the protagonist of your case study to figure out how to market a product to different parents. you still have two exams for the two other classes you took this semester and then, it’s all done for you. and with the warmth you receive from the boys, you want to give it back to them too.

you give a small nod to the security guard as you press the button for the elevator, seeing one of the two open as you are greeted with the empty elevator with reflective sheets of metal surrounding the side walls. as you practically waddle inside the elevator and press the correct floor button, you gaze at yourself through the mirror-like surface. turning your body to the side, you view how your coat protrudes from the front as it creates a right triangle shape. moving one side of the coat behind, you observe how your maternity clothes are stretched by your belly to show the growing lives inside of you. the growing lives you can feel are moving around, but haven’t reached out to you as you can only sense them within you. you need to blame heeseung because of the way they push up your intestines, making you very much nauseous all the time after you eat.

the ring of the elevator dings stayed as you walked and arrived at the front door of the boys’ apartment. no sound is heard from the other side—maybe jeongin is waiting for you to arrive so he can start the stream together. the sound of the doorbell is picked up as you gaze at the camera lens connected to the intercom inside before you to the door when you catch the footsteps approaching from behind the door.

appearing before you is heeseung in a white graphic t-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants. he seems to have a slight pant with his breathing—like he was working out. you’ve opened your mouth as you saw, wanting to talk about something, but you forgot what as you see him rolling his eyes and a “come in” is spoken, leaving you alone by the cabinet for their shoes as you tried your best to slip out of it without the help of your hands.

the apartment is in the regular state rather than the group stream set jeongin had to do. a duffle bag of what looks like to be heeseung’s has a few pairs of basketball shoes—known for the tall shape as it guards your ankle more than regular sports shoes. the wooden floorboard is warm as you guessed he had to turn the heater on, making your way towards the hallways where heeseung and jeongin’s rooms are across from each other.

that’s when you hear a sound.

the sound of nothingness as you approached jeongin’s ajar bedroom door, seeing it empty.

“where’s jeong-?”

“we have to talk, (l/n).” heeseung cuts you off again as he turns his head to face you, his hand on his door so he can just push it open as you stare at him, agape.

“jeongin’s with his stray kids guys doing a group stream,” he added as he knows you wouldn’t stop asking if you don’t know, especially cause jeongin’s the one who invited you—which makes you finally think about how it’s so weird that he had to go through heeseung to invite you when he could just message you through the instagram dm. heeseung gave you one more gaze before going inside his room, leaving the door open as you could feel the swelling tension that was heavier than what your usual banter had been for the past few months.

walking inside, you were met with the wrinkled mattress and comforter of heeseung’s bed. the same bed that you and him copulate and in return, create the babies inside you. the last time you went into his room fully—cause you never went inside his room even though you visited often either beomgyu or jeongin’s invitations—was the night you and him fucked. you didn’t recognize the amount of basketball paraphernalia that is sticking to his walls last time as you finally view it, a poster of what looks like alternative rock bands cause you recognized the paramore, the arctic monkeys, and even the american football posters.

heeseung’s figure reaches his desk and he sits on the chair by it, caressing his face with his hands as you can see the way his facial muscles contort around his eyebrows and forehead.

“what are we talking about?” you lightly scoffed as you stood in front of heeseung, who lifted his head with a tenacious look on his face.

“where were you in the past three weeks?” you can pick up how he spoke with his teeth grinding against each other.

“why’d you care? you’ve seen me all the time. heck, i saw you last week when i came to visit beomgyu-“

“NO!” he stood up after you jumped from his sudden, unprovoked shout. taking a few steps, you are frozen on your feet as he approaches.

“you really don’t fucking care, huh?” heeseung now lets out a huge scoff as he rolls his eyes, very obviously. instead, he was met by another confused and offended look by you. "what does he mean by i don’t fucking care?” you spoke to yourself as he then reply, adding a needed context.

“the fucking appointments, (l/n)(y/n).” his nostrils are so wide that he might as well breathe fire out, making you stunned as your defenses are crumbling down when you realized what he is going to talk about.

you recall the past three weeks, jogging your mind through the endless activities you’ve done such as going out with the girls, going out with ryujin, beomgyu, and jeongin, busying yourself as your interviewing yoonah and the other coworkers for your study case, helping sungchan recover from his hangover as he stayed a night at your apartment—his frat house is overwhelmingly full so that he went back along with minjeong so they could fuck all night, helping ryujin styled for her photoshoot, helping chaeryeong bring the food to her dance crew so they could eat, meeting jimin whilst there, remembering the dance crew show-

the dance crew show you watched with your friends.

trying to comb the calendar in your mind, you’ve just realized that you missed that appointment that day. and then another one last week, the week when beomgyu introduced you to his bandmates as you visited their studio.

“oh fuck…”

“oh fuck, indeed.” heeseung sarcastically mimics you. you tried to hold your head up, but with the way the guilt for not showing up to your doula’s appointment, you could see the slight smirk that was threatening to grow on heeseung’s lips. but he seemed to hold it back as he let out a sigh, a shaky one.

“i’ve been trying, trying to be kind towards you. to give you the fucking benefit of the doubt with what you told me at the basketball court and i believe it. i believed it yet you don’t think about anything after that.” his hand reaches to be placed on his chest as you hold yourself still, fist pushing down to make you stand tall.

“you don’t think i don’t sacrifice as much as you do for them? i sacrifice my time and my friends' time to cater to you who is growing my babies inside you. yet you started to not think about them when you seemed to get everything on your way.” the man says as you can see the way he is grinding his teeth down, yet it still sounds so clear as you get your mind to think straight. heeseung is shaking his head as he can’t hold back the smirk that is slowly growing.

“you don’t think that i don’t realize your crush on beomgyu, don’t you? with the way you’ve been pining over him ever since he brought you to the doula’s office. even if i still harbor unsavory feelings towards you, i’ll allow it cause it’s fucking natural when you interact with him as much. but to then see you slut yourself out to my friends-“

“WOW! OKAY!” you take a step back as the spreading shock of what he told you were triggering the same ever-fiery feelings you also have inside. “that’s a fucking low blow, lee.”

“what other word should i say it with? you’re having my babies, yet here you are being touchy with my friends and forgetting your freaking responsibilities-“

“but slutting myself is such a fucking wrong word to use. that’s too fucking much.” you retaliate back, crossing your arms in front of your stomach as you feel the instinct kicking to protect them. “other than me carrying your babies, you don’t fucking own me, lee heeseung. i can establish whatever relationships that i want and you’re just making yourself look like a jealous boy who can’t seem to make his, fucking, whatever, partner be happy yet the people around you can.”

it is now heeseung’s turn who is stunned, yet his scrunch face still telling him that, even though the word he uses is such an overkill, he is still telling the truth. the truth that seemed to make you fired up to do the offense on him.

“heck, i could’ve terminated them if i didn’t consider you-“

“don’t you fucking dare say that, 'cause,” he says as you looked at him exhaling, the tears of anger brimming in your eyes as you let your mind analyze what you say and how messed up it is. “don’t you see? you thought you were the losing one here? no, (y/n).”

he lets his muscles relax, yet you can recognize just how glassy his eyes are also, mirroring yours. “you have much more powerful control over this relationship than me. you have the fucking right to do whatever you want with yourself. but what’s in it for me? i gave you my savings and we are paying for the appointment together and you become so ungrateful as time goes by not going to them. like i’m just a wallet to you.”

heeseung’s hand reaches towards his cheekbone, his fingers grazes near the corner of his eyes as you watch the whites becoming pink—holding the emotions that he wants to let out but knowing that his friends could be collateral damage to it too now that they have a good relationship with you and your friends.

“i don’t even know what will happen after you give birth to them? are you still going to ignore me and raise them on your own when i have sacrificed even my savings money to pay for this stuff we have to do?”

your throat is dry as you listen to heeseung’s little sobs and sniffles, sensing the way your heart has dropped until it reaches the depths of your being. to then being told the truth that, yes, you are selfish for getting everything you have at the expense of heeseung, who you just now realized is retreating. how the glances at you when you’re with beomgyu, jeongin, or jimin give an annoyed but also a tinge of sadness in them. you now realize that even with heeseung being their roommate, he might not have much time with them anymore because of his basketball practices and with the way you and your friends are hoarding them from him.

“i-“ heeseung’s eyebrows raise as he hears you speak, “i gotta go.” you shake your head, not wanting to openly bawl in front of heeseung as you quickly exit the suffocating space.

the way his voice is calling your name echoes and makes you move faster as you slide your feet inside your shoes before opening the door and quickly and uncomfortably running toward the elevator. pressing the button as fast as possible as the elevator dings, pushing the close button as fast as you can as if you can pick up heeseung’s approaching footsteps.

the elevator door closes as it will bring you to the lobby. you lean back against the wall as you feel the uncomfortable folded-back part of the shoes you wear. damn you for deciding to wear a high-ankle one. you knew it would be hard to fold your leg to just slip the back to cover your heels. but the only thing you could resort to is to sit down on the elevator floor to put them on. quick!

you curse to yourself when your belly is the thing that makes it hard for you to slip it on. you still eye the ever-decreasing number of floors as you are reminded to try sitting with your knees so you can reach the back more easily. your body is doing acrobats more than the exercises haseul has told you to do, but when you feel the flaps now resting behind your feet, you can just stand up and go your merry way-

the elevator door opens when you hear the familiar exclamation of your name before buff arms are helping to make you stand up on your feet.

“did you fall?” jimin is looking at you with worry, leaving his bag outside as you can predict he has finished his class for today. but, with the way that heeseung told you of his friends, the guilt boils up to burn you once again.

“ji-jimin, i gotta go fast. so sorry,” you replied as you pushed yourself out of jimin’s grasp. sure, you could talk to him on what his opinion of you and what heeseung thinks of you. but, you aren’t as close to him as you are with beomgyu.

and that’s where you are bringing yourself.

remembering the band practice he had talked to you about through chat, you walked into the familiar studio area of the campus where he usually is. the hallway inside was getting darker as you entered, the evening time reminding the students to rest for the day as you watched many of them going towards where you came from. the hallway by the door of the studio is dark with only the light and sound of a guitar coming from behind the door’s window. taking a glimpse, you can see beomgyu who is riffing on one of txt’s songs. his long hair shielded his face enough to cause your heart to beat faster than before. well, before remembering what heeseung has told to you. yet, here you are, trying—in a way—to validate that the reason you’ve neglected your appointment is for a good cause for yourself.

beomgyu’s head is lifted as he hears the knocking, looking at the window as his smile widens to see you. you want to reply with the same—you always have been able to—but the underlying emotions you’re experiencing stop you as you try to give the widest smile you can at that moment. the handle turns as you push inside, sensing the warmth of the studio competing against the breeze of the cold weather.

“why are you here?” beomgyu said, his guitar dangling in front of him by the strap.

“so, i can’t be here?” you try to banter, a frown on your face that you usually share with him now has a different reaction as he pulls off the guitar and places it on the speaker before approaching you.

“no, no. of course you can be here,” he replied, the giddiness fell out of him as you noticed why he did that: the swollen eyes that you probably got from tearing up on the way here. remembering your wrongdoings that hurts more than what you and heeseung have gotten through in ages.

as beomgyu leaned closer, he opened his embrace to you, letting you in his arms as you felt the warmth enveloping you, trying to brush away every cold patch that touched your body. yet, it couldn’t touch your heart as much as you want. you wanted to bawl. maybe beomgyu can allow you to bawl into his shoulders. but with what you are doing next, the probability of that will be split.

you were the first one to lean back, hands holding onto his shoulder as he gaped at you with a curious smile before it slowly droops down as you gaze between his eyes and lips. leaning forward, you lean your head and let your lips meet his. the grip on his shoulders was strong as you tried not to tremble. finally. finally, giving in to what you wanted for a long time now.

you could feel the familiar tingling feeling warming your heart as beomgyu just… stands there. for you, that’s enough because at least you told him what you feel based on your actions. but the pausing was too much for your liking, and you can perceive the warmth in your heart getting hotter, too hot, that is giving you searing pain once again.

leaning back, you can see the blank face that is showing on beomgyu’s face. with a heavy heart, you still try to give an optimistic smile that isn’t reciprocated with what you expect. instead, beomgyu is shrugging, a normal expression on his face and you can sense the tears once again forming.

“please,” you whispered, “please tell me you feel the same way as i do for the past few months.” you silently cry.

the boy in question, beomgyu, gives a solemn smile instead. “i’m so, so, sorry (y/n). but i don’t feel the same way.” he is shaking to signal to himself that yes, he doesn’t reciprocate.

however, this is making you question everything.

“then why are you so nice to me? why are you always asking about me or my friends? why are you always joining us?”

“i do like you, (y/n). but, i can’t like you like that-“

“why?” the sound of everything seems to pause as you see beomgyu glances away at something before an unknown yet warm smile that exudes from him startles you.

“first, you’re pregnant with my best friend’s baby- sorry, babies. plural,” he corrects himself, “and second, the night that you and heeseung hooked up. ryujin and i also hooked up-“

“wait WHAT?” your heart is already hurting from the denial because you are heeseung’s baby mama. but the thing about ryujin shocks you.

“so yeah. we both hooked up at your apartment and i got more hooked. i was already hooked when we all were in high school and,”

you couldn’t continue hearing him ramble about ryujin just like how you ramble to the same girl about beomgyu since freaking high school. gosh, that fucking hurts. to know that your crush has a crush on your best friend really hurts. your crush who is best friends with your rival. you want to get a grip on your high school self so she could find out about it because you were too lovesick about beomgyu but despised heeseung as best as you can to not see that. now it just depends on ryujin, but you don’t want to pressure her like that. she’s discovering her queerness and you love her for that and you don’t want a boy to get in between you.

but between you and the boy… well…

you actually let out such an unserious laugh as you realized how totally bamboozled you have been for the past few months. it is helping you spread the pain so that it doesn’t hurt your heart and brain so much.

“you’re using me, ME, so that you can get closer to ryujin,” you sounded with exasperation as while you laughed, you could feel the tears free-falling on your cheek. “to use the attempt to bring boxes of ingredients, picking me up, just to have a glimpse of ryujin once in a while.”

with the quick succession of changes in your emotions, beomgyu just realized what eldritch horror he is summoning: a girl with a broken heart.

“you must be so fucking happy when i say yes to going out with you. a hook, line, and fucking sinker as you get the fish that will lead you to ryujin. yet you’re fucking stringing me along all this fucking time.” you got reminded of the group streams yours and beomgyu’s gang done twice now, to finally noticing just how touchy beomgyu is with ryujin—wrapping his arm behind where she sits—that when you lean against him, you didn’t realize that he was leaning against her too.

“fuck you, choi beomgyu!” you exclaimed as you retreated, tucking the front of your coat to cover your belly once again as the feelings hit you one by one, rushing out of the studio as you run. your tears clouding your sight as you don’t care where you are going. rushing past people as you are met with the pink evening sky as the sun is setting.

you stood by a sidewalk, the tears falling out as you sobbed into the space in front of you. looking downwards, you can see the babies you are holding. you just want to be alone now to wallow in your sadness that is kicking harder because of the hormone you must have to grow them inside them, holding them so you know they are there with you. it really is just you and them against the world.

and they agree with the thought of you buying fried chicken because you can feel them kicking against your touch.

-

it actually worries ryujin that you didn’t go out of your room for anything other than work, exams, or appointments.

her eyes gaze at the door to your room that has been haunting her mind for the past two weeks. a systematic cycle was built as, even with chaeryeong’s persuasions as your mood maker, you won’t go out of your room to even eat.

it started on the day when she and the rest of the girls were worried when you weren't home by midnight. ryujin believed they blow your phone up so bad that it makes you more reluctant to go home, but she remembered she got your phone saved on her find my phone app and they decided to track you using it. their discovery leads them to find you sleeping in a booth of a chicken fast-food restaurant as the leftover bones are left behind. the restaurant is nearly empty with only the employees who work the graveyard shift remaining there to cater to the night people. ryujin doesn’t mind carrying you into the backseat of chaeryeong’s car, but she can definitely feel the heat that is growing on your forehead as the car skidded home.

she heard you grumble as they helped to place you on your bed, making you lay down as they helped you change your clothes. minjeong comes in and brings a wet towel to be put on your forehead before chaeryeong gives you a bowl of cream soup that she hopes you will eat when you are awake. ryujin couldn’t get mad to see you like this—she recognized the dried tear marks fallen from the corner of your eyes. but, the way it spilled into your everyday life for the next two weeks is something she couldn’t comprehend. because you have never been this depressed before.

every time she hears the clicking of your door, she lets out a smile and a warm greeting to then meet you who gives her a small smile yet with no spoken reply as you carry your backpack to wherever you want to go that day. minjeong tried to come along with you, but with a stretch of a hand forward and an open palm; still showing the same small smile, you mouthed a no to her as you went out of the apartment.

because heeseung was busy in doing his exams, beomgyu is still coming by to give the box of ingredients for the week. but ryujin sees that something is bothering him as much as it bothers her. he replies with the same smile and greeting to her—maybe a bit more forward than what she used to—but it feels different when she is used to hearing your greetings towards him as you stood beside her to pick the box up.

this week, it wasn’t even beomgyu who is at her front door.

heeseung stood at the door with the box as he took a glimpse in as best as he could, asking for your whereabouts and why you didn’t answer his texts. ryujin wants to tell him the truth—that you’ve begun your hermit arc as you stay in your room. but she knows how sophisticated your relationship is with him that she can’t bear to let out the truth, saying that you’re outside at that time. but then heeseung told her something.

“help me reach her. she’s been rescheduling all the appointments with both the doctor and doula without me knowing and canceling the ones that we have scheduled together.”

“the receptionist doesn’t tell you anything?” she asked.

“patient confidentiality. and haseul is also by her side cause she won’t tell me when is (y/n)’s appointment.”

ryujin thinks that, if you are not with a child right now, you might not even open the door to get your meal in and you might never even go out other than for your work and exam. it seems that you are preparing yourself to be the vessel for your babies so you can give birth to them healthily, eating and drinking for them, but not for you.

she knows just how sad you are by the way you are wailing with the sound of your guitar muffled in your room. she listens to your rendition of mitski songs from behind the walls that are still small enough to not annoy the neighbors on all sides. with the exam season nearly done as you are there to finish up your research project, it makes you not go out of your room at all unless it’s for the bathroom. nobody is ever asked to pick you up for appointments or work at the daycare because you will then arrive and go back to your room all by yourself.

it’s sad to see you like this. so ryujin hopes what minjeong is doing could help you.

the guitar wailing is still heard as chaeryeong and minjeong walk from the kitchen with the buckets of popcorn, a homemade burger just for you, and juices around them as they still promise to follow your diet—though not as strict as you. minjeong walks towards your room as chaeryeong reads the synopsis of the cd cover of tonight’s movie.

“hiya, (y/n). i know we have been so busy for the past two months or so,” ryujin listens to minjeong words after her knocking on your door killing the sound of the guitar from your room. “we’re having a movie night and it’s one of the japanese movies in your watchlist. you are very much welcome to watch with us.”

there’s a long, pregnant pause as minjeong says the last words, turning her head towards ryujin who gives her a tight-lip smile as she looks at the hallway from the end of the sofa. minjeong lets out her own small smile as she turns her head towards the living area to grab the cd from the table and crouches down to put it onto the player. ryujin glances at chaeryeong who gives her own solemn smile, whispering, “just by the look of the cover, i know we will be crying.”

just then, they heard the sound of a door opening. all of their eyes turn towards the entrance of the hallway to see you emerging. no words are spoken because all of them still want to give you space as you’re the one now reaching out to connect to them after their trials and tribulations.

chaeryeong pats the seat between herself and ryujin as you let out a chuckle, letting them see just how big your belly is getting for carrying your still ever-growing babies. ryujin gives you the burger plate as you give a warm yet solemn smile, making chaeryeong lean close to you as minjeong turns off the lights and lets chaeryeong press play.

the movie starts with a scene on a train. a green filter filled the screen as only the white noise from the moving train filled the room. a young girl and young boy sit across from each other, a large suitcase in between them. and the boy whose clothes are similar to the suitcase—tattered—clutches onto it so gently.

to say that the movie is profound is an understatement. it is filled with wholesome scenes of children—siblings—playing with each other. that is, before the realization hits all of you as they had to fend for themselves to live. but it definitely hits you hard as you lean against ryujin’s shoulder, her hands in fist because of how furious she is while watching everything is going badly for the children. while you, you are actually sobbing. maybe because you have a profound relationship with children, and are a future mom yourself, your emotions exploded as you felt the despair, happiness, and rage all throughout.

it definitely is cathartic to you because you have been burying your feelings back. to see the children being abandoned is hurting you because you have seen children like them firsthand when you are volunteering in your second year. you definitely are mad at yourself for putting nobody knows in your watchlist, but you can now say that you’re grateful for minjeong to remember it because it is definitely the cathartic release you need after burying so many emotions at the same time.

as the credit rolls, you can feel the way your babies are moving inside of you. as if to remind you to at least, please, don’t abandon them.

the waterfall of tears as you sob caught the attention of your friends, who are also in various levels of tearing up in the eyes to full-on bawling with rage. you can only let out a small smile as you hear minjeong sniffle before standing up, making you open your arms to let her into your embrace. you can sense actual warmth for the first time in a while as it shields you from the cold, literally and figuratively. more arms come to wrap around you as you felt both ryujin and chaeryeong’s faces beside your ears. to know that they understand it hits you more because you are with a child.

maybe, there is still warmth in life than what you expected. after contemplating so much about the actions that you’ve done—ranging from the earliest memories of when you and heeseung were young to the way beomgyu broke your cracked heart into pieces when you confessed—you realized that you are selfish. that you haven’t got the ability to step back and take in everything and to find your priorities, because now with babies growing inside of you, your priorities are changing as you start to love them more and more.

the pettiness that you and heeseung have for each other really shielded you from what heeseung truly is: a good man. a man who cares for others. a man who is willing to trust you, even with the amount of history you both have. how he also has his own priorities and needs, but he decided to give them to you—well, your babies. sure, he’s not perfect. his anger making him say something that is so out of line in your relationship. but you understand where he is coming from. you understand the amount of jealousy seeping through when the doula gives you instruction yet he is just there, doing nothing other than being reminded to always have a good communication line with you.

maybe, it is the time for change. because if you can allow yourself to have his children, you should also allow yourself to let him into your life.

so that your children will not be abandoned by both of their parents.

-

to learn that his mom is so excited is an understatement. to know that both his and your moms have been planning for your joint gender reveal and baby shower—because of your busy schedules—is like seeing them being kids once again.

heeseung looks to the backyard of his house, the venue of the event, which is filled with more neutral earthy color from the theme that they asked you about. he didn’t chime in because he is busy—but he also wants to at least forget the way genuine hurt show up on his face when he called you a slut. to then lose contact with you for the past month as he is frustrated. yet again, you were the one blocking him from the information he has the right to know. and with the way you try to avoid him as much as possible on campus, you are now entering your third trimester, the end of the year is near, and both of your families believe that you both are together, all of those complexities are swirling in his head as he has to try his best to face one by one.

“heeseung!” he heard his dad speak loudly from outside the room, “the guests are here, come greet them. it’s your party to host.”

“coming.” he took one last look at his outfit, a simple creme-colored shirt tucked into his black jeans, as he walked outside of the door towards the living area and the backyard when he caught the appearance of the table with shiny bracelets and flower-charmed bracelets: a jewel for a boy and a flower for a girl. he could see that some of his boys were there, picking between two types of bracelets so they could guess what are the genders of both of his babies.

“come on! the idea of heeseung hyung having two boys will be scary.” jake says towards jay who picked up gold and silver bracelets, respectively.

“but it’s plausible…”

“so is hyung having two girls, right?” jake replied as heeseung looked down to find the different color flower-charmed bracelets in his hand. the other guys are also talking to each other as sunoo was the one who approached him first.

“hey, heeseung hyung. how are you feeling?” the kind boy asked as he could feel his emotion lighten up when seeing the younger boy’s eye smile.

“oh… you know, a bit nervous actually.” heeseung chuckled as he looked at the boy’s wrist, seeing both kinds of bracelets on each of his hands.

“i’m team ‘heeseung hyung is boy-girl dad’ and the guys don’t believe me actually.” sunoo replied, seeing sunghoon turning to him and saying, “that’s cause it’s rarer, sunoo-yah.”

“i know,” said boy replied as heeseung chuckled, looking towards another table that is full of gifts often found in baby showers. since nobody knew of the genders of his babies, he saw all different types of clothing of all colors there, a few baby diapers, and essentials that would be helpful to stock at home. most of them are gender neutral but he sees a few of specific gender ones he has to think to give away if his pair of kids will be only gender specifically–or he could hold on to it so that he can make them dress neutrally.

“we didn’t give much other than two sets of baby clothing. broke college students, after all.” sunoo speaks as if to explain the situation he recognized so much.

“that’s definitely enough, sun.” heeseung chuckled as he patted sunoo’s shoulder. that’s when he heard the commotion from inside the living area from behind the glass doors, the room where his mom is with his extended family and a few mutual friends of his. he looked through it to watch a crowd coming inside; what looked to be your side of the people—your friends from college like yunjin and kazuha, your roommates of course plus sungchan who is bringing eunseok too, to what it seemed like your extended family before he sees you coming in: taking his breath away.

you are bigger than the last time he saw you. you are also wearing a color similar to his, but in a midi dress style, and he sees his mom hugging you before holding onto your belly. he let his eyes watch you comfortably as you looked around the familiar and unfamiliar faces before you connected your own sight with his.

heeseung thought you had almost forgotten the fake dating aspect of this whole fiasco you are in with him. but when you open the sliding door and in a one-way direction towards him, he lets himself being embraced by you as his hands automatically move to wrap around you. he couldn’t lean in closer because of your pronounced baby bump, but you moved back a little to look at him. a smile on your face as he sees you seemed to be more at ease, maybe because of your classes being finished and such, but you are on a completely different side of the spectrum because he is here, still struggling to juggle all the things.

“you okay?” you are the one that asked as you gaze at heeseung’s unreadable expression, making you chuckle as you can’t help the influence you have on him, but also the influence he has on you as you could pick up your heart beating faster.

“yeah…” he replied, making you lean in.

“follow my lead 'cause your mom literally introduced me as your girlfriend. unless you get a grip to know what it implies, hee,” you whispered as his eyes changed, his hand now traced down to your lower back as he stayed by your side.

acting with himself is something so easy for him. after all, he has to act while in front of your parents when he is facing you, which he has done since he knows how. but, now, acting with you seems so natural. too natural, actually. how you’re bringing him around as he introduced yourself to your aunt and your now first-grader cousin—"that’s the kid that i babysit for the first time" you added—and the way you acted like nothing happened for the past month stuns him so much.

the way your facial expression moves along as you and his friends seem to be low-key teasing both of you—he caught a glimpse of jimin recording him being dragged by you past the crowd on video—just seemed so much more than acting. but you are acting, correct?

well, that was when you caught onto beomgyu’s gaze that he could see your expression chipping away; when you returned him with only a small smile before pivoting towards heeseung as he could see your nose crunching while smiling. with that, lee heeseung actually kind of regrets by telling that to you. he kind of regrets that he hurt you.

the festivity was very modest to say the least, especially since both of your parents are the ones paying cause they’re just too happy to have grandchildren with each other. the pile of baby items is stacking up as more people are picking their guesses. all the party needs is the arrival of your coworker and it’s done.

when said coworker arrives with what looks to be a bag of crowns: a pair of faux gold crowns and a pair of flower crowns. he looks towards you who is smiling before biting your lips as you approach her and give her a hug, bringing her to him.

“this is yoonah from the daycare, well technically, she’s my boss,” you spoke, introducing the woman who is older by a few years.

“and this is heeseung, the baby daddy.” yoonah pulls out her hand as heeseung shakes it, pain surging through his hand as the grip on it is so hard.

“listen to me, heeseung. if you ever hurt her again, i swear to any kind of god out there that i will hurt you first.” yoonah said with gritted teeth and menacing eyes before pulling back, making heeseung’s doe-like eyes turns towards you who was giving him a shrug as you tell your mom on the main event.

“gather around, friends and family. the main event is going to start!” she said so giddily as his mom brought both of you to the other side of the backyard, facing towards the house where the people you invited were in front of both of you.

“thank you so much for everyone for coming to the baby shower/gender reveal combo for (y/n) and heeseung’s babies.” yoonah hosted with both poise and excitement in her voice—no wonder that she also works in a daycare. “i have here two pairs of crowns that will show the genders of both babies, which i know since (y/n) asked me to be with her for her latest appointment. i will put the corresponding crown on the two parents’ heads.”

heeseung can see the crowd gleaming at the thought of seeing both you and heeseung wearing the corresponding crowns according to their guesses. he glances at his boys who are sporting all the flower-charmed bracelets; except for jeongin, who has one silver bracelet and one flower bracelet on his wrist. and then to your girls who are sporting mostly both kinds of bracelets except for ryujin who wears two gold bracelets.

“(y/n), heeseung, please close your eyes and take a bow,” yoonah said as he turned to you, who gave him a subtle nod. your hand reaches to grab his as you both face forward and he closes his eyes before bowing his head forward.

all he could feel was the way the cold breeze blew against his skin and how his grip on yours tightened as he could feel something on his head, making the sound of the crowd growing before the grass ruffles in front of him to where you at as the crowd lets out a huge ovation. he can hear his friends’ laughter when he picks up yoonah saying, “you both can open your eyes.”

lifting his eyelids, he lets the shiny view come in as he turns towards you, seeing the shock on your face as he gazes at you wearing a golden crown. he grabs onto his own crown as he touches the petals of flowers on it, picking yours up also to show you what’s on your head. you can’t help but step towards him, taking in a big embrace that heeseung reciprocates as he sees both crowns on his hands behind you.

a boy and a girl.

heeseung was actually speechless when he retreated, letting you take the flower crown before placing it on his head, scrapping around his hair so that it looks better as he lets the gold crown glide on top of your hair where he puts it.

he could see the way his friends crumble and glee in excitement because of the revelation. sunoo’s cackling comes from the basketball guys and it combines with jeongin’s who is also recorded jimin and beomgyu, jokingly weeping because they’re wrong. your friends are also teasing ryujin for picking the wrong combination as heeseung rests his hand on your back.

“ok, sorry, one last thing everyone.” your mom interrupts the total chaos of emotions being spilled before turning towards you two. “i know that we have the gender reveal and baby shower together and we have so many outfits and items that will be useful for you to raise both of your babies. but you might be asking ‘where are we going to put this?’ well…”

your mom opens her arm so that his mom comes into her hold. the grin that they are trying to say signals that they're now fully loaded for something.

“we don’t want you two lovebirds being apart while raising babies. well… let’s just say that your parents and (y/n)’s parents have paid the down payment on a new apartment…”

heeseung actually reacted the same way as you, jaw dropped, eyebrows scrunched as you and he turned your heads at the same to face each other. you mouthed a ‘what the fuck’ towards him as he shakes his head, saying to you he also don’t know shit about this.

you and he are going to live together.

he could actually read your face this time, the face that he has already recognized for a long time—the face of when you want to refute. but, with the way your eyes seemed to crease as the rest of the bafflement poured out, you realize you couldn’t refute back to them unlike how you do to him. your eyes, though with the same sparkle in them as he sees you throughout the day, seemed to tell a different story. a story that he also seems to recognize.

that’s what he thinks as he says the goodbyes to the guests departing, leaving only your family, his roommates, and your roommates behind as they all gather to help clean up the props and bring the stuff inside. heeseung carried the last of the two baby carry-ons for the car inside the house as it is stacked by the garage door so he could pack them up and carry them to your new shared apartment.

“i swear, gang. i don’t know shit about, fuck, this,” he says as he walks back and forth to the two groups sitting in his proximity.

“also, ‘lovebirds’? the last time i met you, i don’t think (y/n) is dating you.” ryujin called back to what his mom said. but she still understood it was the message you and he sent when you were walking around together to greet the guests.

“well, we imply to them we are together to let them know of our situation so that’s where that actually came from…” heeseung replied when he caught beomgyu who was looking at ryujin’s curious and furious combo face as he could feel the awkwardness of the moment is. since the last time you left his room, he never hangs with your roommates anymore, nor did they come to his apartment to play. sure, he has met all three of them as he became the one to give the box full of ingredients, but the situation is so awkward that after he asks for your well-being and is given the answer, he instantly speed walks to the elevator because it triggers him so much.

he really realized just how interconnected you are to everybody. he can see with the way beomgyu arrived home on the same day you left from him—whom you presumably talked to—and discover how his usually giddy face now has a small stain of sadness in it before going back to ignorance. how jimin never heard of chaeryeong again as she is working with her main crew on a routine whilst jimin is focusing on creating a choreography. all because he wants you to explain from your side.

to heeseung, he had let the things that created a plaque in his heart alone by themselves: seeing you being too selfish of your own self that you couldn’t find any priorities for even your babies and how he said it to you seemed to besmirch him more. yet, he also takes to the heart what you say on the basketball court: that he is miles ahead in front of you and how tired it is staying in the rivalry. that there is a side of him capable of competing, yet he pours it into your petty rivalry. he has already implemented the side of him you were talking about on his day-to-day after it, mostly during basketball, as he seemed to be some sort of assistant coach to coach min as he helped with training the junior players. he sure hopes that you get what he meant on why he asked for you two to talk after every factor created changed him in a way.

because he cares for you.

“the boys are staying with me,” beomgyu said as he stood up along with the others while the girls also stood up, presumably to stay the night with ryujin because she is also from here—alongside heeseung, beomgyu, and you. heeseung brought them out of the front door as they went their separate ways, closing the door as he walked deeper into the house.

he heard the sound of the sink running when he found his mom cleaning the utensils. your mom is packing up the leftovers as the sound brings him towards the kitchen.

“hey, bambi.” his mom greets him as heeseung lets out a small smile. your mom opening her arm so he could come into the conversation that is now being talked about.

“i sure do hope that you and (y/n) like the apartment we picked. it’s a two-bedroom one, but it is big enough because i know you have your exercise equipment and that gaming pc of yours that you will have to reassemble,” his mom said from behind him as he stared at the leftover food on top of the kitchen island, standing beside your mom.

“that’s more than enough, mom. thank you.”

“you gotta have to say thank you to auntie as well. she helped to pick the location so that it is pretty close to your campus and your friends.” his mom told him as he took a peek to see your mom, catching onto the similarities both of you have.

“we have the rent up for a year so we can give you freedom if you wanna move away from it after it is done.” your mom continued to talk as heeseung nodded. his head turned downwards as he tried to pick out the right words to say. instead, he literally blurted out something that came out first from his mind.

“(y/n) and i don’t get along with each other.”

he stares at the two women who turn their heads to face each other. both of them sharing a look before your mom replied, “we know.”

“well… both of you used to get in trouble with each other a lot at school that it makes us realize that you both don’t get along with each other.” his mom added, making heeseung’s face return to the shocked face as he can’t help but laughs. why would he and you hide it if they already know? oh, young minds…

“i, i, okay…” his stammers died down as he couldn’t help but bite his lips, “then why i do seem to care for her so much?”

he’s able to hear his mom chuckle as she turns the water tap off before standing on the other side of his figure, seeing how he is taller than both moms who are looking at him so expectantly.

“the line between love and hate is so thin it’s actually near existence.” his mom said first, “and don’t worry about that, the rivalry doesn’t actually start with you.”

“what?” he retorted as he watched the two women communicating through a glance shared between them.

“your mom and i are actually rivals in our school basketball athlete days.” your mom said, “we used to trash talk so much at each other that our teacher had the smart plan for us to do something for detention together.”

“cleaning out that forsaken storage filing room.” his mom cuts in as she helps to collect the leftovers and grab the plates they were on so she could wash them.

“arranging them up and all. good thing during your time now you have online databases because, i swear, those teachers just blatantly putting the documents down so that they can make a student clean it up somehow as punishment.” your mom adds as his mom just laughs about it, thinking of said memory as heeseung could picture a large dim room full of shelves with stacks of papers on them—not arranged into a certain manner at all.

“but it works. after that, we became closer and we don’t see each other as rivals, but as equals.” the tap is turned off as his mom’s words go back to his ears, “and we become the best friends you now see us as.”

heeseung can’t hold back his laugh as he imagines his mom being in the same position as he is during school—cursing your mom’s ears off or even tugging the ball from each other to show who is the better player. but to know that they resolute it so fast makes him feel shame for actually allowing such rivalry to grow for more than a decade. it’s because you and him don’t see eye to eye, but sometimes you do. it’s because of the ambition you both have to also be like your parents. but growing up changed that. there are many ways to resolve such rivalry, yet he chooses the having-a-baby-together-route; the extreme challenge mode out of all.

“since you stayed at our house, (y/n) is now staying in your room for the night, heeseung.” your mom said as she gathered the leftovers, which were divided into two for each household. “also the apartment already has a bed complete with the frame and mattress and a wardrobe big enough for both of you. so you can move in if you want by tomorrow as you gather your items from your rooms at each of your apartments.”

“alright, thanks for telling me,” he said before your mom jumped with realization one last time, picking up the white envelope that he remembered yoonah brought.

“this is from the last doctor’s appointment (y/n) went to with yoonah. she knows you will ask her for your own copies.”

the word “third trimester” is spelled out on the front as heeseung pulls out the content. a few ultrasound pictures grace his vision as he gazes at the visual of his babies inside of you, the word markings at the top now assigned them as baby a and baby b grazing his touch as he sees one of them each in their own scan and both of them together by their heads. he felt someone standing behind him and a finger pointing something out in one picture of the individual baby.

“you can see baby a has a nub protruding. that’s the penis, so he’s the boy.” his mom has spoken, making him let out a small “wow” before seeing that baby b has no nub. she’s the girl.

“well, all the leftovers are split up, so i think we’re going to get going. we don’t want the husbands to smoke one more stick of cigarette.” your mom says as his mom laughs in reply.

heeseung adds after tucking the pictures in the envelop, “i also want to go to bed.”

“you absolutely should. you have to pack the baby shower gifts and bring it to your new apartment in the morning. or let it stay in your trunk until you move it in. you’ve done so well as a host,” his mom responded as he nodded, saying his last “good night” before retiring to his room.

his nightlight on the bedside table is on when he gently opens the door, he looks at the silhouette of you lying down on your side facing away from him. a duffle bag stands in front of his wardrobe which he presumes is filled with your clothes as he can identify you wearing a headset while the light of your phone shines your face. for him, it’s the correct time to freshen up as he had to come to terms that you will stay in the same bed as him—because he couldn’t bear himself to push you off his bed especially with you being in the third trimester, where he has learned from haseul is when your back pain is at its worst.

drying the droplets of water and tucking his sleeping outfit on, he walks back into the dim room to find your headset and phone on the bedside table. you have moved to sleep with your left side up; the only space for him is on the right of the bed beside his desk. though the weather outside is cold, the heater is still on as the heat exudes out to balance the temperature. he walks towards the empty bedside when he can’t help to make out the sound that is so much more noticeable in the quiet air’s white noise.

the sound of sobbing.

heeseung sits down on the bed, his back facing you while he looks one last time at his phone before putting it away when he hears you talk.

“do you know about beomgyu liking ryujin when we talked a month ago?”

his head turns to the side, taking a glimpse behind his shoulder. he can see the fragment of your expression in the darkness, making him want to make his eyes adapt to it faster.

“ever since high school, (y/n).” he acknowledged. of course, he knows. he had seen that lovey-dovey look every time he and beomgyu moved past you and ryujin in the hallway. he still has it—the subtle version of it—when his gang hangs out with yours. to be that naïve wasn’t heeseung’s forte, but he does realize just how naïve you could be.

“and is that why you commented on my crush on him? because you know that i’ll be hurting at the end?”

heeseung let out a small hum as he pushed himself off the floor and looked to the front, extending his legs as he sensed the similar, albeit lighter, pain from walking around and standing up too much as he let his legs stretch out to make him relax and let the blood flow clearly. you chuckled as he helped to pull the comforter on his childhood bed on top of him and your figure. if he could communicate with his younger self that he has you in his room and in his bed, he could see young heeseung strangling him, complaining to his older self about why he allowed that person to even be in his room.

he sees movement from your end when he lets himself lay down on the mattress. your hand brushing against your face as he turns his head towards you.

“well… you won, lee heeseung.”

your words caught his attention as he let his head be on the same level as you, shifting so he could finally see your face clearly with the nightlight still on. you have another pillow wedge between your legs, something he knows can make you feel more comfortable as he had also learned about pregnant woman’s sleeping positions. yet, your face tells him and the world that you aren’t 100% comfortable.

“i went to him, wanting to make what i felt come true because i truly, truly thought that he felt the same way. then bam! another gutter punch to me and that’s a freaking k.o,” you informed him, letting him experience the rest of the day from your view as, at that time, he was wallowing in disappointment and shame for using a wrong word to describe what you are doing with his friends.

“that fucking broke me. and i still remain in that belief even with the catharsis of watching a japanese movie about child abandonment makes me fracture and heal myself at the same time. now, with our parents renting us an apartment…” he could hear the pitch of your voice rising alongside how many words you had spoken. heeseung turned his whole body to face you, making you exhale and inhale, “i think it’s going so fast. too fast, i mean.”

your breathing makes you a bit hyperventilating as you want to turn some other way from him because you can’t bear to see his doe-like eyes staring at you with concern. you try your best to calm down, looking at the slam dunk poster on one of his walls while blinking your eyes to get rid of the glistening eyes. that’s when you sensed a hand on your cheek. heeseung’s hand reached out as you let his fingertip graze near your eyes, wiping away the single tear that came out after enough of them accumulated on the corner of your eye.

“you don’t think i’m not also scared? that my life is also going too fast?” he asked in such a warm tone. “you think that i’m not also broken? with how you and the world had shown me so much knowledge i have to expect to understand quickly, it also broke me. i can see what a positive influence you have over our friendship as a group and with you being idle for the past month, it has affected everyone. it affects beomgyu too, you know?”

you push your lips to one side, feeling your cheeks getting warm as you frown while taking in the words he had meant. that even if you confess just how much you have lost in this eternal battle with him; for the first time, he confesses he is the same.

that you are now equal to him.

“i don’t know. i retreated to being an egotistic antisocial while thinking about all of that. i’m glad you’re not like me then.” heeseung giggles as he overhears you uttering such a depressing sentence. but he continues to caress your face as he tugs himself closer to you, sensing his bent knees touching your own and the pillow that is wedged between the legs. he is the one to lean in first.

the kiss feels all too familiar now, the same as the one you had while conceiving your babies, the same as the one at the basketball court. but months have passed since those two moments, yet it only becomes richer as it goes. your hand lifts to grab his luscious locks and cradle it so you can bring him closer, tilting your head as you feel his breath right against your philtrum. yet, when you let go to take a breather, he leans in closer to connect your foreheads, lips right in front of each other’s—hovering so close that no one could able to steal each other away from the moment.

“you have me, (l/n)(y/n). we can heal together, if you want, of course. or else, i just take care of myself better an-“

you playfully roll your eyes as you meet his lips once again, feeling both of your pairs already knowing the right ways to satisfy both of your needs to sense each other. you nodded your head—hoping he felt it too—even with your lips on his. and he seemed so as he traced his hand down to your side.

“let’s heal together,” you answered, breaking the string of saliva that connected both of you as you grabbed heeseung’s hand on your body to let him touch your bump. sure, you are used to them kicking inside you now. but, heeseung never felt them when you discover them during your hermit days. to see just how the sparkles in his bambi eyes increased when you could feel one of them kicking to your uterus wall so hard, you let out a chuckle as he let you move his hand and press down to sense the movement inside you.

“i have to be angry at you because both of your babies are kickers. it triggers me to vomit just how much they kick me.”

“sorry for that!” he takes responsibility with a grin as you let his hand go, letting him have the free rein to press up against your womb where your babies are in.

“also, you’re going back with me to campus tomorrow. should i just bring you back to your apartment? the parents expect us to set up the place with the baby shower gifts.” heeseung asked as you let his hand roam to press against the bump. at the same time, it was your turn to caress his cheek, feeling how he wanted to stay in your touch when he unconsciously leaned in, but his head seemed to be too heavy to lift from the exhausting day that is today.

moving in with him is going to be hard. other than the knowledge that you learned about him which you can take advantage of, you don’t know who heeseung is as told by himself; only from his friends and parents. but with the more contact you both have with each other during this phase of both of your lives, you can tell that he is decent. you can already figure out how to rearrange the domestic chores you and him have to share. and to learn that the apartment is semi-furnished with the kitchen, bathroom, and main bedroom in place, you could actually go and live with him as fast as possible.

you’ve made up your mind.

“you know what? you don’t have to bring me back to my apartment.”

“hmm?” he questioned, lifting his eyebrows.

“i’ll help you unpack the baby shower gifts at our apartment.”

-

4. mended broken hearts

“thank you so much!” heeseung spoke with a sense of gladness as he took a last glimpse at the crane beside the balcony, watching it being retreated down to the truck that is part of the moving truck ensemble for his apartment. the officers there were so helpful as they didn’t mind being moved around between three different apartments since the morning. the machinery always fascinated heeseung as it’s not the same when it comes to houses. to use a crane to help move boxes easier at the same time is stunning heeseung; because he didn’t get the same luxury when he moved into the boys’ apartment. that’s when you told him that that kind of service actually exist too.

turning around inside his still blank living room, heeseung scans boxes upon boxes of his and your stuff, some are inside suitcases—which is mostly clothes—and boxes are filled with stationary and other items you both owned. the kitchen where the island counters are and a few sturdy boxes you both haven’t unpacked become your dining area as—other than the bed frame, mattress, and wardrobe both your parents have bought alongside the apartment rent—they want you two to decorate the apartment to your heart's content. that means buying pieces of furniture and assembling them yourselves.

heeseung still remembers how his dad arrived to tell him the different tools in the toolbox that he gave him as they both assembled a few pieces themselves. you stood on the side, sometimes helping with bolting something with a screwdriver in your overall get-up that he seemed to not get enough of. with your shelves done for the living area, you both focused on the babies’ room rather than your own room first. knowing how to assemble things now, you both choose the cribs, changing station, and cabinets for your both of your babies’ needs. viewing the room in the default look without more color is enough because you don’t know if the landlord allowed for any modifications of the apartment. so you both waited for customizations when you decided on a much more permanent residence after you graduated.

but, overall, the way you and him work together in creating a liveable place for yourselves for the next year is something to be proud of. how you and he bounce each other’s thoughts as you think of using the boxes of the new furniture bought to your advantage, making a makeshift cabinet you can put the unnecessary stuff you have while you allow heeseung to buy a desk for his gaming pc setup and some stools in making the kitchen island your permanent dining table. none of you are thinking about buying tvs or sofas, so a few beanbags and a futon is enough with a mini projector that can be useful for projecting the movies or shows you want to watch.

it’s admirable honestly, just with how open you are with each other after having such an emotionally charged seven months along with years upon years of bad blood to see you and heeseung actually working together and not complaining much about it. your friends even tease that maybe bodysnatchers caught both of you and you both are some alien species who don’t know the complex history of the humans they’ve abducted. yet, you both beat the allegations when you still have fits against each other in front of your friends. though in your domestic life, you try to dim it down by doing the relationship exercise haseul has taught you. twice a week, just you and heeseung sitting across from each other on your bed, holding hands, and looking at each other—building that connection.

heeseung placed the aptly label pc box on top of the desk he had assembled yesterday after he and the moving worker helped in organizing which boxes were yours and his. two beanbags are sitting by the front door as he will wait for you to discuss how to rearrange them for both of your liking. the boxes create some sort of half-wall maze he has to navigate to find your shared bedroom, the babies’ room, and the bathroom where some of your dirty laundries are piled he has to remember to bring it to the laundromat. he remembered that you have your own ironing kit so that you don’t have to pay more to iron out the creases of your clothes. he had already talked to the landlord about how to connect to the internet as he has his own router that he just needs to connect. and voila, a living place enough until the next year as you both awaited your graduation and your babies.

the sound of a muffled ringtone rings from another room as he walks towards his bedroom, seeing the tall box from the crib becoming your bedroom table as it rattles against the material. he looked at the screen to see the alarm reminding him of what you told him. picking the phone and some necessary items up, he left the apartment to go to his car in the basement, turning the engine on as he left the building.

the road is empty enough for him to arrive early to the daycare—even earlier than the guardians of the children who are finishing their day so they could pick their kids up. heeseung turns the car off as he stares at the entrance because you’ll probably be far from being done, yet something in his mind tells you to just wait inside rather than be left in the cold in the car; also to save the gas. locking the car with the remote key, he walked towards the daycare as he stared at the trees around that were shedding their leaves in the mid to end of december date it is currently in.

he hears a twinkling jingle when he steps inside the heated lobby area of the receptionist area, seeing it empty as he could observe the walls of the various playrooms that are there; all of them leading towards the outdoor playground that seemed to be closed out because of the snow falling a few days before. heeseung sees the children doing their various activities, some are playing around by drawing and some are playing with dolls and figures while an attendant takes care of each area. that’s when he saw you, sitting cross-legged in another overall outfit as he could see the large bump you’re sporting whilst sitting, reading what is supposed to be a children’s book for your audience of 4 to 6-year-olds—though you also have the experience of taking care of younger when you told him of your babysitting experience.

your eyes gaze between the writing of the book and your audience of children intrigued by what you are saying. your free hands move animately whilst describing what you are reading, making a few kids holding onto their plush or blankets so hard as they imagine what you’ve said. every time he sees you like this, he can’t help but be enamored like you. like you are a goddess of storytelling and your stories capture people’s attention in such the right way that it influences them too. why did he think about that? because he had seen it. he had seen his friends being influenced by it, and he had felt it himself.

your gaze breaks between the two planes of existence towards the window where heeseung is standing behind, making him chuckle as he sees you startled. eventually making some kids turn around to look at him. he can read the changes in your face as you realize the time, looking at the other areas, before pushing your hand as you point to where you at, mouthing,

“you want to come in?”

“right now?” he also expresses as you read his mouth and answer by nodding. he slowly tugged his shoes off and put them beside the shelf where the employee’s slippers were as he pushed the door open after turning the handle. softly—from the little pairs of eyes looking at him—he settles down beside you as some kids are looking at him with differing emotions, some with admiration, some with jealousy, some with timidness; especially because of how much of a giant his own body is compared to them. that is before one boy spoke up,

“miss (y/n), is that your king?” he says, making you puff out laughter as heeseung’s eyes widen before looking at you. with the way the other children seem to realize what the boy implies, he realizes you have told them something before about that.

“i think you’re right, woonhak oppa.” a girl said before she reached her hand out, “queen (y/n) is going to have her babies soon.”

“okay, kids. hyunseo…” you gaze at the kid who is giving you a cute eye smile. you know just how brutal it is for kids to tease you about your relationship; even kids are having a more dramatic love life than you are here. but with heeseung here, after they believe you don’t have your own king or queen, you understand just how confused they’ve become.

glancing toward him, you open your hand and whisper, “the floor is yours.”

he gazes at the kids before letting out his signature charismatic smirk, “well, you are correct, woonhak and hyunseo.” the two names mentioned now have sparkles in their eyes. “i’m queen (y/n)’s king. my name is heeseung.”

“heeddeung?” you listen to hyein trying to pronounce the name, making you chuckle.

“it’s heeseung, hyein. with a sssseu…” you tried to help her pronounce the s sound in heeseung’s name as the kids were now singing the chorus of heeseung’s name, making him giggle.

“you’re so cool, mister.” another boy spoke out as heeseung seemed to be taken aback, doing some theatrics with his expressions before bowing down and saying a “thank you”.

“then, you have been lying to us, miss (y/n)?” rami’s question makes your eyebrows crunch as you don’t know how to word out your complicated relationship in simple words.

“king heeseung has been here the whole time, actually.” you lean forward with your hand covering one side of your mouth so that heeseung can’t see, “but i hide him so that his awesomeness doesn’t compete with mine,” you said yet still with your normal volume, making heeseung snicker before he tried to remove your hand. the children nod their heads as they’ve been in on a little secret of yours.

“both miss (y/n) and mister heeseung are awesome.” you heard a girl said at the back, making you let out a thumbs up before you saw the boy beside her refute her answers; making them bicker about who was more awesome between the two of you. you exhale such a big breath as you shift your head to face him when he sees you with a look of horror—him realizing just how loud children do when bickering with each other. you stretch your arm upwards before slowly scooting yourself towards heeseung and place your head on his shoulder, making you pick up his giggle as he brought his hand behind you to stabilize your gravitational pull because of the weight.

“let’s hope that our babies are not gonna argue like that when they can talk.” heeseung mumbled, making you glance at him.

“arguing like us too, you mean?” you nudged his rib, finally knowing his opinion on the topic you voiced out months before. “i know you’ve felt tired of that like i am.”

heeseung hums before he sees a boy raising his hand toward you two, making you say a "yes" as yujin asked you an unexpected question.

“since queen (y/n) has king heeseung and they have the baby on the way…”

“oh no…” he caught your mumble.

“where does the baby come from between the two of you?”

if heeseung’s horror gaze doesn’t turn into dread, he must be sick or something because you even have a similar look showing on your face before it went away a few seconds later. that’s when you heard your own alarm from your phone ringing; making the kids let out such a chorus of disappointment because they have to go home.

“your family can definitely help you answer that, kids. let’s prepare your belongings so you can go home, okay?”

“okay!” they said in their various voices as heeseung sighed so large, avoiding such a lightning bolt because if you couldn’t answer it, then how could he do that? of course, he doesn’t want to imprint the idea of copulation on them at such a young age. and he is glad as the bell saved him.

heeseung helps to stand you up and you walk towards the lockers for the kids before glancing outside to see the familiar faces of their guardians picking them up. he even helped with a few of them before he felt a tug on his shoulders when crouching down. turning around, he sees the same girl that had pronounced his name wrong giving him a paper. he remembers the girl has a few sheets of paper and crayons when she is there with the crowd, hearing your stories.

“for you, mister heeseung…”

he sees the picture of a simple drawing of three figures: a smaller triangle with a circle and smile and hair, a larger one with the same as the little figure with a crown on her head, and beside it, a stickman with a black rectangle filled and the same circle as a head with face and another crown. the color of their triangles corresponds to the girl’s purple outfit and your own light blue denim.

the girl, you, and himself.

“thank you, uhh…”

“hyein.” she smiled.

“thank you, hyein.” he replied correctly before turning around as he saw her retreating body to you who was holding her purple backpack strap, giving him a knowing look before you focused on hyein as he stared at the drawing in his hand.

after you send the kids to their respective guardians with coats that appear so big on them as they have to traverse the cold weather, you say goodbye to yoonah and your other coworker; seeing her nodding her head at heeseung who is picking you up as she mentioned, “you almost forgot to send me the complete research so i can give it to sohee in marketing.”

“will do it right away,” you said as you tugged your puffer coat, said your goodbye to her, and entered the warmth and comfort of heeseung’s car.

after sending yoonah the file of your final research work that could help with helping in promoting the daycare, you lean back on the seat as you let heeseung’s r&b-based playlist flow through the speakers.

“what are we having for dinner?”

“what are you craving?” he asked before turning to you, who had a smile on your face. he already knows what it is.

“what’s with you and jjampong?”

“gochujang is my craving now and jjampong, being the soup food it is, helps with making my insides warm from this cold weather.” you hummed, thinking just how satisfying to consume jjampong again for the past three days. well, what gives. it is what you are craving.

“yet, you don’t want kimchi jjigae? they’re similar.”

“but jjampong has seafood, heeseung. plus jjigae is too thick and it’ll feel weird on my tongue.”

heeseung could only sigh as he smiled to himself, knowing that he had to call the chinese food delivery when you arrived at the basement of your apartment building.

a shower and the clean empty bowl of chinese foods you and him bought later, you and him are doing your nearly-regular routine of sitting and staring at each other. because it is nighttime, you let your lamp light the room in its own dim brightness as you see it being reflected in heeseung’s eyes.

when you smile, he follows. when he moves his lips a certain way, you follow as best as you can. but you can feel how both of your pulses are syncing up from you both holding your hands. thoughts are running in your mind about him, mostly the ones you have an obvious answer to. but there is one that is stuck that you just remember.

“why?”

“hmm?” he hummed, eyebrows lifted.

“why did beomgyu mention to me that he can’t be with me because of you?”

heeseung tries his best to not break eye contact even if he wants to, having the answer showing up clearly in his head because of the vulnerable stare he is in.

“did you tell him something, seung?”

but he just can’t say it, still holding it back even with the way you stare at him with such glistening eyes. your hormone seizing the wheel as you let go of your hand to wipe it before holding it again. he shakes his hand as you just let out a disappointment tight-lipped smile. but you didn’t expect heeseung to also ask,

“why didn’t you stop me that night?”

your eyebrows are lifted. that night has been a while and the last time you spoke of it is when you mentioned how you are pregnant with his child. sure, why didn’t you stop him? why didn’t you stop yourself? you are also wondering that.

and because of that, you lean forward as your lips meet heeseung’s. the kiss is so light yet loving. and even that, it’s enough to answer the question for your own self. well, it’s now his turn to think…

“why didn’t you stop me just now?” you questioned back.

near the end of the 5-minute-ritual, heeseung finally understands why he didn’t stop himself today and why didn’t he stop himself and you that night.

-

the end of the year is today and here you are, tucking yourself in one of your flowy maternity dresses as you pull the straps up so you can put your hands through the sleeve and tug the dress so it adjusts to your own liking. your makeup has been sitting on your face for five minutes now as heeseung is preparing himself in the bathroom. you tie the strap of the back of the dress as best as you can when you can feel yourself stretching your back, making you groan at how satisfying the feeling is. the sun has already set outside as you clasp your small black-colored chain necklace at the front before rotating it behind your nape. you glance at how cute you look as you can’t help but take your own photo in the mirror that you brought from your old room that is leaning against the wall corner.

the door of the bedroom opens and you find heeseung in a white shirt and black trousers ensemble, “you ready?”

“i guess, can you check if the ribbon of my dress is straight?”

heeseung steps closer to you as you puff out the sleeve of your dress so that the seam can be placed correctly. a slight tug comes from behind you as you glance at heeseung repairing the ribbon of your dress. after it’s done, he leaves the ribbon as he looks up at you, who is staring at him from the mirror, a sheepish smile on his face as he glances at your phone in your hand.

“you want to take a picture of the occasion?” he asked, gently tucking his head on your shoulder.

“if you want to,” you reply as you catch him nod his head. his hands that are on your back move forward and rest on your large pregnant belly. you took a few pictures of the two of you—something that past you couldn’t see yourself in—as you put it on your instagram story and typed the caption, “night out (+ 2)”.

“you want me to tag you too?” you peek at heeseung, who has moved one of his hands to be in front of your clavicle, seeing the black necklace adorning your skin next to the rolled-up sleeve of his white shirt and the veins protruding on his forearm.

“of course,” he said as you typed in heeseung’s username and pressed send.

“we haven’t updated much of our instagram and i surely know that our old friends will be shocked to see us together.”

heeseung’s muffled laugh comes from behind your head as you follow, wiggling yourself out of his hold as you pick up your bag and strap it on across your body. you glance at the living room that still has boxes left but with the beanbags and projector set for your usual game night set up—courtesy of heeseung’s nintendo switch—as you see his rgb light inside his pc crate lighting the dim living room by the balcony. walking to the fridge, you open its door and pull out a flask of your own lemon-infused carbonated water so you can pretend to at least be drunk for the new year’s night. you feel your coat being hanged on your shoulders by heeseung as you tuck the flask inside your bag; slipping on a pair of ballet-style shoes as you both walk down to the lobby.

“you sure we don’t have to use a car? don’t want to make you too tired…”

“yeah, i’m sure. i gotta have to stretch my body to exercise, hee.”

you were glad that it hasn’t snowed for the past few days as the pavement is all dry and safe for you to walk. the apartment complexes are close enough to each other and you want to use that as an advantage to move your body so that it doesn’t lock and make you too stiff. your fingers are interlocked with heeseung’s as he allows you to guide him through the shortcuts on your way to your old apartment; where the new year’s eve party is at.

“one last reminder: you’re allowed to drink tonight. you deserve to have a break time,” you said as heeseung glanced at you.

“then, who’ll be taking care of you tonight?”

“i can take care of myself, you doofus,” you replied to him, “and i’m most certainly could take care of you too.”

you glanced up at the apartment you moved from as you greeted the security guard, who is still greeting you even if you’re not the tenant here anymore. bringing yourself to the elevator as you press the familiar button, your eyes stare at the changing numbers on the way to your floor as it opens when you both arrive. you could hear the muffled loud voice that you’re hoping would be alright—"it’s okay! the neighbors are away for new year’s eve so we can party all we want" minjeong reassured you—as you approached the familiar door and put in the keypad: they still didn’t change it.

the door opens as you pick up the speaker playing in your small get-together with your people. you can hear the shout of yours or heeseung’s names as you slowly pull your shoes off by the door that has already littered with so many shoes of other people. the get-together is only for the seniors in hybe uni who are linked to your friend circle and, not going to lie, you didn’t expect for it to still be this many.

you see chaeryeong approaching you as she tugs your coat off before hugging you, already knowing that she is tipsy just by looking at her.

“you’ve come back, mama,” she teases you as you hug her too while you can pick up jeongin’s voice greeting heeseung with their usual bro hug. ryujin comes in as she brings a bucket of popcorn to be given to the crowd gathering by the tv that is playing a playlist of kpop songs. minjeong and sungchan come to hug you together as you find eunseok and chenle behind you.

“i’m so sad that you can’t drink.” sungchan said as he gently touched your bump. “she’s carrying my niece and nephew, of course, i don’t want her to drink,” minjeong cuts her boyfriend off as you playfully pull out your flask, making them widening their eyes before you say, “it’s just lemon soda water. i’ll be okay.”

you let them move away as you glance at yunjin, who is now using your room after you moved. she seemed to scream when she saw you as you instantly hugged her, “look at you, mommy.”

“thanks, jen.” you replied, “how’s it been living here?”

“fun as fuck. i don’t care that i only have 6 months of uni to live here but anything i would do to allow boys in my room-“ you playfully nudge her forehead as the laughs between the two of you combine with the sound of the people talking in the apartment. the boys greet you now as jimin and jeongin let heeseung talk with keeho, jiung, and theo.

“how have you been with heeseung?” jeongin asked genuinely as he got cut off by jimin, “hopefully his snore doesn’t turn you off much-“

“aish. YA! don’t cut me off.” jeongin nudges him away as jimin shows his own grin towards you as you ponder.

“he does snore, but i’m getting numb to it-“

“i don’t snore, (l/n)(y/n).” heeseung shouted from the other side of the room.

“you do!” you heard yourself, jeongin, jimin, and somebody—somewhere in the apartment—replying. knowing the strength in power, you and jeongin giggled as you continued to catch up.

“who’s having heeseung’s room?” you questioned, making jeongin pull someone out of the conversation as you see the familiar face that makes you giggle.

“yoon jaehyuk?”

“hey, (y/n)!” he hugs you as you pull back, confusion on your face.

“i thought you were still rooming with asahi…”

“ahh… yeah… so he decided to do an internship back in japan and he’s not coming here often unless so that’s why i room with the boys. gotta have to thank seung again for telling me the vacancy,” he said as you saw him smirk. you nod your head as you allow yourself to be taken by the flow of the conversation. conversing with the likes of hyeju, yerim, wonjin, and hyunsuk, before you can feel yourself getting tired as you walk towards the sofa, seeing beomgyu being left alone with one plastic cup in his hand and the other on the remote control—as if he is the music man of the night—as you can see him changing the playlist to play a sing-along playlist for songs of 2000s emo alt-rock.

“can i sit here?” beomgyu lifts his head from your question. you want to ruffle his hair for it being too messy, but knowing the aftermath of your last duo interaction, it feels totally different.

“of course,” he replied as you sat on the space beside him. he seemed to notice just how messy his hair was as he moved it so you could notice his flushed face from the drinking.

“oh yeah, apologies. you can’t drink-“

“nah, i can.” you pulled the flask out as beomgyu widens his eyes. “lemon in soda water. so that i can feel the festivity alongside all of you.”

beomgyu lets out a sheepish smile as he nudges his cup out, “cheers?”

“cheers.” you meet the cup with your flask as you both drink from it, feeling yourself sigh as you thank yourself for finding such a safe remedy so that people know you can still “drink”. but when you retreat your thoughts back to beomgyu, you can still see a familiar tinge of sadness on his face.

“what happened?” you decide to throw away any leftover feelings just so you know he is alright. beomgyu scoffed as he wanted to answer.

“i confess to ryujin and guess who got denied?” he points his thumb toward himself and you can’t help but let out a pout. you can think of so many reasons why she rejected him, but you know she might be doing that because of you and your unresolved feelings for him—especially since you’ve learned she is sexually attracted to him because they hooked up.

“you gotta have to be patient with that. she’s a demiromantic, so you have to coax her into that part of the relationship. make her trust you enough.” you decide to lecture him. many people have been trying to get with ryujin even when you both are in high school, but because of terrible experiences, you understand how she realized who she is now. you were with her through thick and thin at that time and you know that if beomgyu is the one asking her out first, it’s definitely a legit attraction from his side because ryujin remained romantically single for her nearly 4 years of college life.

“and i should tell her i gave the blessing. she might still be holding back because of me and my feelings towards you,” you say what you thought out loud, showing beomgyu just how effective his rejection is not only to you but also to himself.

“i’m sorry once again, (y/n). i shouldn’t have used you like that,” he said as you blinked your eyes, letting out a hum as your answer.

“but truly, i couldn’t reciprocate your feelings because-“

“because i’m your best friend’s baby mama. i remember.” you slice his sentence and put in your own. but you didn’t expect him to add to it more.

“yeah, that but also,” beomgyu lifted his head towards one point in the room as you followed, finally letting the sound of the fall out boy song in your hearing as you listened to heeseung singing along with it with a similar cup in his hand, taking a deserved break just for the night to let loose. that is when after he sang the high note that he caught your gaze and you see the corner of his lips tugging upwards.

“it’s heeseung too. he had never been this caring towards someone. even to his previous girlfriends where he only dated for like three months top.” he said as you can remember heeseung dating in high school and he had only had a girlfriend for like a month before they broke up. it’s a teasing material you and ryujin used and you can remember how fuming he became before beomgyu calmed him down. beomgyu’s word makes you realize something as it definitely is a fragment of the answer that he couldn’t answer when you asked him nights before.

“i have a guess that he has been having feelings towards you that he is willing to monetarily fund you throughout your pregnancy. it’s hard to find a guy like that unless he is honest and sincere.” beomgyu continued as you jumbled the words to find the answers hidden in them because—true to what the boy beside you said—if he is not sincere, he wouldn’t be leaving you alone to face this phase of your life. your mind suddenly thinks of a world when you say nothing to him about you being pregnant, letting it be a secret that he might only know after you give birth to the twins. but, you still won’t lie the sexual attraction is there to make them in the first place.

“thanks for answering the age-old question, beomgyu.”

“you’re welcome,” he said as he saw heeseung approaching the two of you. you can see with the way he has a little sway in his movement that he is definitely tipsy: nearly drunk. he pulls you up before sitting down on your previous space and tugging you down so you sit on his lap. his hand moves towards your bump and you can feel the babies reacting by kicking around the skin where he puts his palm.

“oh yeah, txt’s coming back with a gig. would love to see you both there cause we might spoil a new single for our next album.” beomgyu said as both you and heeseung stared at him.

“no shot. we’ll be there, right, hee?”

“uh huh,” he replied as you could see the cringe on beomgyu’s face, not used to seeing his best friend being disgustingly lovey-dovey towards his partner as he stood up from the couch.

“i’m gonna grab more snacks. hold the remote for me, won’t you?”

you picked the remote from his hand as you replied, “good luck on ryujin. be patient.”

“i will!” you heard beomgyu reply as heeseung’s nose seemed to distract you by tracing it against your cheek.

“what was that?”

“you know the love triangle i mentioned?” he hummed to your question.

“beomgyu got rejected by ryujin, so i was giving him tips to get into her heart romantically and i have to give a blessing to ryu if she wants to pursue him.”

“ah... that. well finally. beom’s brave enough to actually confess.”

“how is he like about her during high school?” you turn to examine heeseung as he sways your body on top of him.

heeseung chuckles before answering, “he is definitely whipped for her. he was so angry for being late to confess when ryujin suddenly got a boyfriend…”

“that guy was a bad boyfriend in the end.” you fill out heeseung’s story as he let out another hum.

“speaking of high school, i’m guessing i’m not the only that is having my phone setting off so much from the story i repost?” he squinted his eyes, making you let out a sheepish smirk.

“ooh, let’s actually see how they react!”

you and heeseung see the messages that are being exchanged of how you both are together and some congrats to the people who notice the baby bump. but still, the overwhelming census says “HOW ARE YOU TWO TOGETHER” exactly with the caps on. all you and he could do was laugh as you waited for the next year to start in just a few minutes.

the new year that you are ready to face with him.

-

you are rummaging through heeseung’s side of the wardrobe as you hopefully don’t want your expectation to be wrong. that he, AT LEAST, still has the uniform from the last season in his wardrobe.

heeseung left hours before to train some more for the championship finale tonight and as a former basketball player and his “partner”, you gotta have to show him support—"or i will actually kick you out" he jokingly said. you knew of his predicament so well, being the captain of the team but also as the versatile player who his teammates have to rely on. but you definitely can trust him for this because, of course, he wins against you when it comes to the basketball category.

you can feel the vibration of the notifications on your phone, telling you that your friends are here to pick you up at the arena as you let out the breath you were holding and tug your tank top lower to cover your bump. you have finally found last year’s decelis basketball uniform as you see the words “h.s. lee 01” so clearly on the back. it still smells so clean because he probably has not worn the top in a long time—but you have seen him wear the bottoms as some house clothes. you tug your head through the collar and put your hand through the sleeveless strap as you pull the top down, seeing the excess of his clothes covering the rest of your bump as it hangs on the end.

when you hear the sound of the doorbell ringing, you quickly walk to the door and open it, turning off the bell from the intercom before you are met with ryujin hugging you.

“you look sexy. i didn’t know you were that possessive, (y/n).”

“oh shush, the babies have to know that i’m also rooting for their daddy, of course. now, can you help me put on my shoes, please?”

after all of that is done and none of your things are left behind, you tuck your jacket as you enter charyeong’s large-ass van—probably from switching the car she brought from the previous semester back home during the break—as you are greeted by the whole gang when you enter with beomgyu driving and ryujin on the shotgun, noticing just how comfortable they are in conversing with each other now. you could see just how fast they’ve been getting it on as you don’t want to comment on it that much.

“tickets are with me.” jimin said in reply ryujin’s worrying scold when you let beomgyu drive the van towards the arena. you recognize the large arena from the many times you went by it, but also the distinct yellow neon color of hybe uni’s university color as it is the town’s signature arena. stepping out of the car, you felt the winter air hitting you as you and the rest are going inside the arena with jeongin holding some banners they made for heeseung that you don’t know shit about.

but the thing is: heeseung doesn’t know all seven of you will be here. because you didn’t tell him you don’t have work today when he thought you had.

well… that’ll be a major surprise for him.

you greeted a few of the juniors you recognize as the people who you worked with for in uni events or your junior in the business major. many of your peers’ juniors are also here as you discover some of them fangirling about beomgyu and how they are excited for his next album coming soon from the single they have released. even jeongin got recognized even if he is a small-time streamer. but he was raided by a bigger streamer during his subathon at the start of the year and has more collabs with the stray kids collective. safe to say he is set in his pursuit to be a streamer—"or a pro gamer if that doesn’t work," jeongin had said to you.

you recognized some of the cheerleaders as you have pretty good ties with them too when you helped one of them in bringing them to the hospital because of an injury during outdoor practice. though, you might not be as famous as your friends—you and minjeong actually—you are pleasant enough to recognize the satisfaction of your balanced socialization but also be at home watching movies with her for your 4 years of college.

“gosh, has it gone that fast?” you think to yourself. there’s a sense of melancholy towards it as you are here to do your last semester. to separate from the friends you made whilst being here as you open a new chapter, which you decided it will be with heeseung as you only have a month until your babies arrive.

the arena lights dim as you can hear the mc introducing the teams, both universities are cheering for each of their team until it’s decelis’ time.

“decelis number 1, playing in his last season before graduating, it’s lee heeseung.”

you actually let out a scream that shocked your friends as you watch heeseung coming out and stand in front of the opposite’s no. 1. then you pick up the recognizable names of heeseung’s teammates, mostly the juniors, sophomores, and freshmen, coming to take their place beside him. the names that you’ve heard so much is because of heeseung who was asking about on how to position his teammates in the right way with you—who will be ones in the court first and how can they do in facing the opponent. you actually had to use the basketball insight you haven’t used in a while to help him strategize, making you recognize just how well the players are in each category.

with his hands behind his back, heeseung’s gazes at the bleachers where the decelis supporters were. he was hoping he could see jeongin on the right side of the bleachers, but not going to lie, he wanted to see you in his game—answering the joking taunt he gave. the strategizing you help with is being taken seriously by coach min as he agrees to let the first people you helped him pick to be the one on the court first. the spotlight blinded him but he could see someone wearing darker clothing than the yellow and white colors of decelis is using this season.

as the light’s brightness increases, his eyes stay on that certain spot as he recognizes it is you. he can feel his heart pulsing swiftly when he recognizes the top you are wearing, scanning the number 1 on the front: his last season’s uniform. you stood right beside the aisle of the bleachers just three rows back from his own benches. he could definitely bring himself to you right after if he wants to.

after the players shake their hands and return to their benches, you finally notice how heeseung recognizes you as you catch his sight, but then he lets his eyes trail to the people beside you to see the gang fully completed when he actually does a face-palming motion. you turn to view the banners the boys are lifting, “DECELIS’ KAEDE! ALL OF US ARE HERE NOW!” the little inside joke that you and the girls also understand as none, and yes, none of the games heeseung played has all the gang there to watch. only this one: his final one.

heeseung steps out first alongside jaehyun, niki, jake, and sunghoon. niki is at the front as he waits for the referee to blow the whistle. he jumps and uses his long limbs to push the ball towards the decelis side as heeseung gets it and immediately passes it towards jaehyun. the screeching sounds from the shoes make the quick side stepping and pivoting be picked up as you listen to the sound of the supporters fighting against each other in how loud and united the support is. jake got the ball as he easily slips under the reach of the opponents and he halts and quickly shoots, an easy two-pointer at the start. but the opponents: they are not that easy to beat.

8 minutes in, the score is so tight at 17:15 to decelis. niki and sunghoon have such a good time as they successfully dunk an alley-oop together. jake is killing it with the lay-ups while heeseung has gotten one three-poin- wait no, make it two three-pointers as the score rises to 20:15. but you realize just how weak the defense is as you can actually hear coach min saying to focus on offense on one timeout still in the 1st quarter. and they still focusing on the offense, making the current score for the 1st quarter being 20:17.

heeseung rested out for the 2nd quarter as coach min let a few nimble ones play on the court such as jungwon and sunoo. lay-ups and shoots scored the most in this round but jay was the primary target of the opponent as he always got free throws. maybe because they just recognize how good jay is at scoring three-pointers but if he is inside near the ring, he could do a backboard bounce or even a dunk. you actually feel your body sweating as you understand just how worrisome the situation is. it makes you pull off your outer jacket as you can pick up gasps and surprises to your wearing heeseung’s uniform. you look at his side profile as you sit behind him, discussing with taesan on what to do about this as coach min seems to get taesan out after calling another time out. the score at the end of the 2nd quarter is 34:32.

“i swear to god, (y/n).” you heard minjeong said beside you, “why is this so high school musical 3 vibe?”

you actually let out a pout whilst holding your laughter, because what she’s saying is so true. during your winter break—because you and heeseung are “home”—you and him binge-watch the high school musical trilogy. the way, you remember, heeseung cackling as he watches how the bleachers sit down to show gabriella as troy was having this existential moment when they only have 16 minutes on the clock is ridiculously funny. but you can see him bopping his head to the basketball practice song that is “get’cha head in the game” that you might believe it’ll be his guilty pleasure practice song. “please, bet on it is so good though.” he also said as you watch the second movie, and how he is shocked to watch you remember the lyrics of “gotta go my own way” with how you karaoke the shit out of it. yes, both troy and gabriella’s parts.

to experience similar moments being imitated in life makes you rethink how it happens in the first place. like, no, you aren’t gabriella and heeseung isn’t troy and you both are not in high school when all of this is happening. but you’re thinking about what could’ve been. but, as many people have said, high school isn’t like high school musical.

the 3rd quarter started and you watch heeseung playing once again, focusing on his part as a forward but also helping in defending because of his tall body that can shield the hoop from the opponent. but, the morale seemed to have dimmed down as you see the way the opponent’s score now flips over decelis’ even by one point. but then the gap widens as both teams are doing well with defenses. however, decelis seemed to have some slip-ups. you can see the opponent’s player with number 2 on their back—seemingly the ace of the team—that is put in this round is turning the tides, focusing on quick motions, passes, and attacks. and just like that, the 3rd quarter ends with a score of 42:44. just one shot of difference.

and, unlike those 2000s rom-com movies you watched that have a couple with one of them being an athlete, you go down the bleachers as heeseung watches you when coach min is telling of the plan with the rest of the team. you grab his hand towel and help to dry the drops of sweat dripping down his head. a loving gesture that is hiding something as you lowly whisper to only him.

“target number 2. making him tired.”

heeseung nods his head—as if he is thinking of the same thing—when you let yourself lean in and give him a kiss on his forehead before letting the towel go so you can return to your seat. his eyes follow your retiring figure before turning towards his coach, who is tracing the board with a marker.

“i think we also have to target their number 2. if he plays.” heeseung said, making the others turn to him.

“we need someone with a wide reach and nimble enough to catch up to him. someone who hasn’t had a foul yet to stick right to him. he’s good with his lay-up but he has taken a few inside shots and misses, which means he might be weaker at free throws. so you need someone who doesn’t have any fouls who isn’t scared to bump into him when he starts doing lay-ups, then we can score through rebounds,” he stands beside coach min as he puts his forefinger on the board, tracing the path of one of the pins as he continued, “we do a two-time pass and maybe the forwards will be on standby as they can do a layup or dunk.”

the coach glances at him, rethinking of the new information the captain gave him as he nodded, “who doesn’t have any fouls?”

heeseung sees sunoo, riwoo, and leehan raising their hands as the coach continues, “i’ll be switching you up every four minutes, and remember what heeseung says: take the foul. as long as you don’t have five fouls, you are alright. we have to be brave enough to play dirty. i’ll be having taesan, sunghoon, and niki switching between each other for the center and power forward positions. jake, sungho, and jungwon will take over for point guard and heeseung, jay, and jaehyun for shooting guards, okay?”

“yes, sir!”

“team!” the coach pushes his hand in the center as the rest put their hands on top of his. coach min nods towards heeseung.

“decelis!”

“dece- dece- fighting.”

the supporters roar as he see the opponent doing the same thing to taunt them. heeseung has his eyes on their number 2 before looking back at you who is standing up as you give him a thumbs up.

10 more minutes.

1 time of 10 minutes and it is done. for heeseung, it will be the last time he played as a college basketball athlete as he will graduate later in the year. for him, it is now or never.

“heeseung,” coach min’s hand on his shoulders, “thanks for telling me about number 2.”

he lets out a smirk before answering, “you should thank my girlfriend for that.” and he walks to the court, seeing leehan placing himself right by number 2 with the ball at their side as taesan passes it to niki. niki dribbles forward as heeseung and sungho is at the front near the ring. leehan sticks by number 2 with taesan now by the ring, but niki notices how sungho is empty as two people are trying to defend taesan. he passes it towards sungho who immediately dribbles inside, not scared to move in as he finds the right path to the hoop and does a layup.

score!

heeseung pushes his hands out so he can high-five sungho as they retreat behind the center line. he notices the opponent’s forward passing to number 2 who is so fast and already in a way to do a layup where leehan pushes him, making him prematurely shoot and miss the backboard. a foul given by the referee.

heeseung stood near number 2 as he hoped his theory would come true. number 2 shoots his first free throw and misses. his eyes are on niki and taesan nearest the ring, telling them to pass the ball to him as they read his signals, nodding in return. number 2 shoots his second free throw and misses when taesan rebounds the ball and passes it to niki as heeseung runs backward to the outside of the half circle. the ball flies up as niki passes towards heeseung, who feels someone near him as he jumps and quickly pivots away from the opponent behind him. he sees the small sliver of empty space outside of the half circle and dribbles there before shooting his shot.

a three-point score!

with the opponent’s plan to use number 2 becoming a failure as there is a three-score gap in the scoreboard, the decelis team remains in the same strategy of guarding number 2 and fouling to fail their attempt to shoot. heeseung sees coach min tally up their scores when he calls for a timeout, changing all five of the players with their replacements in their assigned positions. heeseung sits down on the bench as he stretches his legs, wanting to look back to gaze at you before he feels a tap on his side to see jungwon smirking.

“girlfriend, huh?”

heeseung raises his eyebrows.

“you said to coach to thank my ‘girlfriend’, since when is (y/n) noona your girlfriend?"

“honestly, i don’t know.” he looks to find you before fully focusing on jungwon, “something just tells me that it’s correct to refer to her as that.”

“also, did she play basketball? how does she know that number 2 is their ace?”

“well…” heeseung smirks as he leans towards jungwon, basking in the way his team has found the right way of play as the gaps between the teams are getting longer and longer. jungwon also has an air of surprise when heeseung tells him that you were a former basketball player—a point guard like the boy he is talking to.

“but why did she stop?” jungwon genuinely asked, making him chuckle.

“let’s just say that she knew she wouldn’t beat me when it came to playing basketball.”

the opponent team did a timeout as heeseung said “good luck” to see jungwon now being called to play on the court. seeing jay, the three-point master playing on the court when there are 2.5 minutes of the match is done as if to terrorize them more. not only did they have riwoo who hadn’t had a foul yet, sunghoon and taesan are now playing as they have used their tall arms to defend and attack successfully, and jungwon who is ready to be the point guard. heeseung can feel the pride oozing out of him at how unstoppable his team is. coach min seems to contemplate whether to put him on or not, but heeseung shakes his head.

“let them be. it’s their chance.”

and it’s their chance indeed, as he sees the time counting down at rapid speed. when it is under the 30-second mark, the opponent successfully gives another score but they are too far from decelis as all they have to do is defend the hoop. one of them takes their last chance, watching the ball hitting the rim as sunghoon grabs it—10 seconds left—before passing it towards riwoo who is moving on the court, doing an ankle-breaking turn to his opponent before passing it to jay, who instantly shoots the ball as heeseung sees the perfect arch. he heard the siren calling the end of the game and the ball falling perfectly into the opponent’s basket.

they won.

all the decelis players approach jay on the court as they hug him, but heeseung is nowhere to be found.

instead, he jumped from the bench and climbed up the bleachers where he saw you cheering. your expression changes when you notice him approaching, a euphoric smile on his face as he grasps your cheeks and brings his lips to yours, making you instantly close your eyes as you move your hand to caress his sweaty-ass nape. you can hear the cheer of your friends beside you as you remember they were recording, making them record both of you as you felt heeseung’s hand drops to give a gentle grip on the bump.

you could see heeseung’s hooded gaze as he didn’t hesitate to crouch down and give two kisses to each side of your bump—for his two kids—before he stood up and gave you another peck on the lips.

“go down to the court!” you push him away from his celebration as he sees his team already gathering, waiting for him. he approaches the court with a sheepish smile as they seem to chuckle while seeing their captain so in love.

you wait as you eye heeseung’s figure that is being embraced by his teammates. minjeong showing you her point of view of the kiss as you can sense how passionate the two of you are; reminding her to send it to you as sit down and lean back, feeling a weight from you also falling down alongside heeseung’s.

the mc talks about who the player of this match is and the team was so excited to know that jay won for his numerous scores in the three-pointers—he deserves it after all. but he also had one more thing.

“at the end of every season, we also have the most valuable player of the season and for this year, for the third time in a row, mvp is decelis’s no. 1, lee heeseung!”

heeseung does a deep bow as he gets the mvp trophy and he sees some package for him that he could give to his teammates and bring the rest home to share alongside you. his vision looks at the mvp trophy, tracing the figure of a basketball player in action when he sees his reflections on its golden sheet surface. his smiles dropping as he can feel contempt.

“any words?” the mc asked as he was being offered the mic.

heeseung grabs the mic and rests it in front of his lips, finding the right things he will say as he utters, “i would like to thank my decelis family for being with me since i started my college basketball career, the hybe uni supporters for cheering us on, and to my friends who are here all complete with all 8 of us here.”

he sees how beomgyu seems to shrug as he wants to hide–cause beomgyu, especially, has only been to heeseung’s game once every season.

“to our opponents, you have done such a terrific job and i see you, number 2. you’re going to do so well.” said number 2 also bowed his head, knowing just how highly regarded heeseung is—one for the legends.

“this is also my last season with decelis as i’ll be graduating this year. thank you for having me and i’m sure the decelis will be in safe hands with them.” he turned towards his teammates as they looked at him with glimmers in their eyes and flatters in their hearts. heeseung gave one more deep bow before giving the mic to the mc as they waited for the medal ceremony.

heeseung could sense the festivity floating around in the locker room as he felt the hug of each of his teammates. he could see the enormous bags of snacks from the package beside him on the bench, as he knew he wouldn’t be eating them all anyway, giving it to the rest of the team as he packs a few of the little snacks in his duffle bag.

jake approaches him and asks, “so you really aren’t going pro?”

“hmm… nah… but i might be still seeing you if i got the right job to discuss college basketball.” heeseung answered as niki approached, “gosh, you are light years older than us, old man.”

“i’m only 4 years older than you, nishimura. you were supposed to be in high school if you didn’t have an accelerated class.” he nags as the others still basking in the euphoria of winning the medals. he, of course, wants to celebrate, but he has another thing to do in his mind that is much more important than celebrating with the guys.

“the victory party is tomorrow, right?” heeseung asks.

“yeah, it is hyung.” jaehyun answered, “all of us needed a rest after that shit.”

“i need a soak!” heeseung hears taesan complaining as all of them change from their shoes to their respective sandals.

“rest well then we can have fun tomorrow,” jay answers as he gently grabs his player of the match package and puts it in his duffle bag, making heeseung pat his shoulder. while preparing their bags as they left the arena to go home for the night, heeseung glanced at his phone to see the numerous notifications from social media of his victory and retirement speech before he landed on your simple notification.

(y/n) :P : i’m by your car.

he lets his feet bring him to where he parked his car hours prior, seeing you leaning against the front of it with the light of your phone shining on your face. you lifted your head as you heard the sound of his footsteps approaching. put the phone away, you brace for his hand holding onto yours, gripping you hard as he gives you a long, breath-taking kiss.

“congrats,” you say to him as his nose touches yours, bringing you in for another kiss as both of you are moving your lips around to adjust, earning a muffled moan from you as he felt your hands scouring around on his body.

“where’s your car key?” you whispered to him as you saw him shake his head, making you frown.

“if you genuinely want to take me tonight, you have to be strong. let me drive, heeseung,” you asked with your voice tone lower, making him flow into a dazed state as he zips open the front of his duffle bag and dropped the car key in your hold, making you push past him as you open the driver’s seat. heeseung instinctually walks to the backseat as he places the bag in the center. the sound of the car engine starts after you push the start button. heeseung closes the door and gets in the passenger door as you still adjust your seat. you knew you wouldn’t see your legs, but driving is a muscle memory thing so you hoped it would kick in you.

from your perspective—and because you have a smaller car—his car is massive. but as you adjust all the mirrors to your liking and with the new sensors on the side mirror to help detect blind spots, heeseung’s car is definitely more technologically advanced than yours.

moving the gear to drive, the car stumbles forward as it pulls out of the arena’s lot with headlights switched all the way on. heeseung has his seat leaning back, cannot wait on what he’ll get and be getting back at your home as he places his hand on your thigh.

-

why is the elevator ride so long?!

you stare at the rising number with both of your hands behind you, not even minding slipping on the coat that you were wearing because you can feel how hot heeseung’s touches are the whole time you’re driving back to your apartment.

speaking of heeseung, you took a peek from the corner of your eyes to see him staring at you, not breaking away as he trails behind you after parking the car in the basement and going to the elevator. both of you in your decelis’s lee heeseung basketball paraphernalia when you can feel the tension steadily building. because you know from the hooded eyes he gave you in that arena that he wants to celebrate his last victory with you.

the sound of the medal hanging on his chest creating thuds that harmonically tie with both of your footsteps. none of you said anything as heeseung lets you lead the way to your shared apartment. you can still imagine the distinct image of when you turn your head towards heeseung to see him biting his lip lower lip under the shining red traffic light, teasing you throughout the drive as he trails his hand up and down your thigh, closer and then farther to your core.

you can sense him leaning his figure on the wall beside the door, enclosing you with his body as you type in the keypad to unlock the door. the ringing chime tells both of you that the door is unlocked as you push open, already swiftly pulling your shoes off because you just know that it might slow you down with whatever you’ll be doing if you take your time. tugging your bag off of you as you walk and drop it with your coat on the nearest beanbag, the eerie silence makes you alert on every step you take.

“heeseung-“

you felt your body being turned around as heeseung pushed you to the wall. your breath being taken away by the small thud as he pushes his lips to yours, finally showing that passion he is holding back when he gives you his victory kiss. his hold on your cheek is gentle, but the way his lips mesh and move against yours is the opposite. you can feel the desperation and pent-up emotions flowing out, maybe because that’s one reason you never heard of him hooking up with someone as you can sense the frustrating grit of not getting off showing in his performance during his ball game.

your hands reach for his back as you playfully caress and tug the hair falling on his nape, making him gasp and let out such a hot low-toned chuckle before slipping his tongue into your gaping lips, exploring your mouth and trying your best to hold you close. to hold you and both of your babies close to him. he leans back and lets his forehead and nose caress against yours. both of your eyes close as you bask in his touch.

“you look so fucking good in my uniform.” he pecks your lips before giving kisses all over your face.

“your uniform is so comfortable to wear,” you reply as he groans, trailing his hand down your sides before resting by your waist with the bump, gripping it hard.

“all of my babies look so beautiful in wearing what’s mine.”

his words making you giggle as you grip his chin to make your lips connect, biting lightly on his pouting lip as you can sense his hands now underneath your top, feeling his touches on the skin that is two layers deep of tank top and bra you are wearing.

“sorry, kids. but i just have to thank your mom for sticking right by me,” he says a bit loudly as he caresses the bump before his hands move to your hips and thighs, lifting it up and making you gasp as you can feel how you are slightly lifted off of the floor.

“heeseung, aren’t we too heavy-“

instead, he lifts you higher against the wall and you can feel your top being dragged by it. cutting your words off as he connects his lips and grinds his crotch against yours.

“i can definitely lift heavier than you, woman. believe me and wrap yourself around me so i can ravage you.”

“shut the fuck up, you aren’t a literature student.” you giggle at his uncalled pretty words when you wrap your legs and arms around him, taking all three of you with him to your shared bedroom that is only being lit up by the orange-tinged lamp—making the entire atmosphere a bit more romantic. you try to move your weight to help him balance before he drops you down in front of your shared bed.

linking his lips with yours once again, his touches becoming more vulgar as he is not embarrassed to touch your breasts, making you gasp as you caress the exposed side of his uniform to feel the ridges of his ribs. his hands are raised as you tug his uniform off of him. the last time you looked at him this way was that night you two fucked and he look a bit more ripped than 8 months before—his muscles seemingly thicker from the workout he had to endure to maintain his body. his biceps and triceps are more pronounced from dribbling and shooting the ball to the basket as you can feel the cool traces of his skin because of his sweaty sheen meeting the cold weather. your lips trail from his to underneath his jaw, giving little suck as you trace them to his pronounced clavicle, remembering his sensitive nipples from the last time as you can hear his small moans from the combination of light pinching and sucking that blooms small but many amounts of your marks on him.

you turn both of your figures as you sit on the bed whilst heeseung peers down; him shaking his head at realizing what you're doing as you trace your fingertips on his abdomen.

“it’s your fucking victory, heeseung. you deserve it,” you mumbled as you give a kiss to his growing cock before tugging the band of his underwear down, seeing it bounce up in its semi-erect glory. you didn’t hesitate to spit on your palm and wrap your hand around it, stimulating his tip as he could feel the shivering spreading in his body.

“fuck-“ he spoke near a whisper as he leans his head back, showing the expanse of his neck from your position because you also can’t wait to ravage it with your marks. one hand stroking him and the other stimulating his own balls, he hisses as he felt your warm mouth taking him in, making him looking down to see you with your eyes close as you wet him, opening your eyes as you move your head back to examine his cock glistening with your saliva. his hand caressing softly of your hair as you continue to take him.

“ah hah…” heeseung moans as he has one hand on your head and another by your cheek, feeling it hallowing as you take him. the way you gag before pulling back as you cough makes him lean down to kiss your spit-covered lips before you push him away as you take his dick in your mouth once again. you can sense him getting longer and thicker as the blood flows into his dick when you push him deeper into your cavern once again, feeling the tip of your nose brushing his pelvis as you heard his groan getting louder, making you moan as it also stimulates him more.

the hand that was pushing your head suddenly pulled you away as heeseung went down on his knees to connect your lips, making him taste his own pre-cum that was ever-flowing as he felt the sliver of skin when both of your tank tops rested just above your belly. he lifts both his uniform and your tank top underneath off of your body as he is met with you in your black maternity bra and your bump where you have been incubating his kids for the last 8 months.

“ah…” you moan out as heeseung’s hand caress your sensitive nipple while he focuses on kissing your bump and the stretch marks it produces. he remembers clearly how you are always wearing the skin lotion that could help with your stretch mark after showering before going on your bed, making him stare at you who is in front of the mirror as he sees you gently spread the remedy on your skin. he also remembers how your face sometimes falls as you see the thick stretch marks, making him also pull out a little frown.

“you’re so fucking beautiful.” you heard his muffled words against where your stretch marks at as you reached behind you to unclasp your bra, letting your girls breathe as you try to rub them as you sensed how tender they are. dr. park said that it’s because you are on your way of producing milk and it is very normal to feel it so tender and full.

putting your hands behind you to support you upright while you push your upper body towards the bed, heeseung’s hand playfully snaps your underwear band before tugging it down along with your socks, taking in your naked self that he couldn’t help but think even in such situations as when he is practicing and even during the doctor's appointment as he sees you getting your ultrasound done.

“lay down for me,” you caught his voice as you turned your body and stretched to get a pillow so you could support your head. his touches and kisses litter your thighs as you feel his fan of breath on your moist core that dripping down your essence. you felt one of his fingers picking the dropping pre-cum before pushing into your opening.

you can’t see him from this angle—the baby bump not allowing you—as you can only feel and listen to what he is doing to you. the finger pushes past the opening and you can hear him let out an exhale from the way your walls engulf him.

“how are you still so fucking tight?” heeseung seemed to also wonder as he felt his finger being covered in your natural lubricant, hearing you say from the bed.

“it feels so wrong to fuck people when i’m pregnant with your child.”

“me as well.” your eyes widen as you hear his nonchalant confession before you can feel him pushing in and out his sole finger from your core. that is when you feel the wet muscle of his tongue flicking your clit before giving the nub its own suck. your legs curl as you put your legs on top of the mattress, making him groan as he pulls your hips so your legs don’t have anything to support on before he lets you wrap them around his shoulders.

your bump doesn’t allow you to tug on his hair as he deliciously devours you, making you grab onto your sheets until your knuckles turn white while one of the hands stimulates your lips to make it seem like he is kissing you. another moan is out of you as heeseung adds another finger and interchanges his fingers and tongue into your hole. you can feel yourself getting tight as the band of your stomach is so close to being snapped.

“i’m going to fucking cum-“ you said in such a raspy voice as heeseung doesn’t stop, teasingly adding a third finger as you feel the band snap and you cumming on three of his fingers, making it much easier for him to penetrate you when you heard him hum as he licks the spillage from your cum. the sound of his heels planting on the floor makes your breath hitch as he rises from the floor, wiping the corner of his mouth as you can’t help but giggle and roll your eyes.

“take me like this.” you moved the pillow from your head to your hips as heeseung stood in between your legs that he was holding in both of his hands before leaning it against his torso. you can finally feel the head of his cock as it nudges your entrance, making you roll your eyes back as he kisses the calves of your outstretched leg against his body. when you sense his head pushing to stretch your lower lips, you let out a huge exhale and feel your arousal slowly being satisfied. your natural lubricant easily takes him in as he moves his body forward. both of your jaws slack as you sense him inside you, making you feel full once again after a long time.

“you’re so tight, mama,” he spoke in such a pet name that you could feel your warm face getting warmer with the rush of blood. heeseung’s gentle touches contrast with the rough ones he gave during your one-night-stand as he is reminded of the babies now existing between the two of you. you nodded your head as you reached for his hand that was gripping your waist, making him move in and out of you at a faster pace.

“fuck, you make me full, daddy.” you see how heeseung grins as he continues to thrust into you. he has his lips move from fully open to biting as he looks at your face reacting to each movement, wanting to kiss your delectable lips but knowing that he can’t because he doesn’t want to press up his kids. so, he lets his body move that thought to how he thrust in you and feeling how you reacted to that. your legs curling from the sensation as he moves his hand to your boob, groping it as you grab the hand to lock it with yours. you let out similar doe-like eyes like what he usually shows as you let out a raspy sound every time he plunges deep inside.

with your mind slowly floating from your head, you can feel the dizziness associated with laying down on your back for too long as you let your fingers out from his and wrap them around his wrist, hard.

the tight grip alerts heeseung as he sees you trying to push yourself up to sit down. pulling himself out as you felt the air in your gaping hole from his thick dick, you sit on the bed and grab his cheeks to bring his lips to yours. finally tasting him once again as you both tease the heck out of each other when both of you bite your respective bottom lips to make you both counter with something else. heeseung doesn’t hesitate to let his teeth bite your bottom lips before you let your tongue slip in and push into his mouth so you can battle each other.

letting him go and with a push so he steps away, you turn your body around and fold your body as you rested both of your feet on the ground and your upper body on the bed. your belly hanging from the suspension as you present yourself to heeseung who is groaning behind you.

“look at you, nasty girl who is slutting yourself for me,” he words out as you feel his slap on your ass, making you wiggle your hips.

“i’m your fucking slut, hee,” you said with your head turning towards him, a smile growing on your face as you felt the familiar sensation of his head plunging through your lower lips. you lean your head down on the pillow as he drives into you, making you let out a muffled moan as heeseung traces his hand down your spine.

“my slut who allows me to breed her.” you moan out as you listen to how his breeding kink is coming back. your belly jiggles along with each thrust as you lay your head on the pillow, turning your head to the side to watch your hand forming a fist before a hand reaches down to open the curled up fingers and place it down flat on the mattress: his hand enveloping yours as he curls his fingers into you. you can feel breathing against your ear as heeseung bites into your shoulder, marking you down as his while his thrust doesn’t stop.

“i’ll gladly breed you again and again.”

“fuck, daddy.”

“yeah, you like what daddy tell you, mama?”

you hummed as heeseung had his other hand pressing down your upper back so you could feel his tip kissing your cervix that is protecting your babies. yet, it still stimulates you so much that heeseung sees tears falling down the corner of your eyes, licking it up with his tongue.

“don’t hold back, shit, breed me, hee.”

heeseung—excited—grasps underneath both of your elbows as he pulls your limp body back, making you arch towards him as he makes his pace faster. your head leans back as you can’t even close your jaw, silent screaming coming out of you as he takes you in its entirety. you feel his lips kissing your head before you limp forward to let your head hang as he rests his own just behind your nape.

“you’re taking me so fucking well, (y/n). body just for me.”

he spoke as you felt your walls clamping up against him when his kisses contrasted with his thrust. heeseung feels your body trembling as he reaches his hand around to rub your clit, making you squirm once again as you mumbled, “c-cum…”

“cum for me, baby.” that is followed by your exasperated, pornographic moan as you can see white flashes while you cum, feeling heeseung’s thrust slowing down as he wraps his hand across your body now. with his own moans entering your ear, you can feel his cum staining your walls. both of you have to slow down to breathe well when you felt him kiss your shoulder blades before he pulls out, making a few of both of your cum fall down to the floor and trail down your thighs.

yet, your libido is still ongoing as you tug on his hand that is wrapped around your body. you turned around between his arms, thighs closing in on each other as you kissed his swollen lips so none of your essences would fall out again—because of your kink.

“sit down against the headboard for me,” you whisper against his lips before lazily kissing him once again as you let go to see him climbing on top of your shared bed and resting right in the middle of it. sheets already crumpled as he rearranged the pillows for his head and back on the headboard. his legs are stretched out in front of him and his arms resting behind his head. his face tells you to take him like he takes you, especially with his cock that is getting erect once again after seeing your hungry eyes.

you slowly crawl up to him on your hands and knees and widen your legs to slot him in between you. in the kneeling position, you crawl to his lap as his hands shoot to grab your waist, helping you as you grip his thick cock in your hand and bringing him to your entrance, slowly sinking down as your hands move to grip his upper arms. with such a fast pace coming from the last round exhausting both of you, you wanted to make this one slow—reminiscent of the unspoken tiebreaker between you two when you can feel a different feeling you have of him from the familiar ones you always get when you argue the hell out of each other. that feeling has bloomed throughout this journey as labels changed in so many turns and iterations. and here you are, sitting with heeseung inside of you, just taking in your feelings for each other as your zen mindset comes back to the ones you usually have during your daily ritual.

your hands wrapped around his back as you slowly move against him, not breaking eye contact even with how good the feeling of him rearranging your walls again, feeling every ridge of him against you. this position finally allows him to caress your body more, allowing his hand to softly soothe your bump as he can’t imagine how shocking this might have been for the babies. it allows him to hold on to your growing breasts that are producing milk for them, making you hiss as you continue to let him message them so that they’re not too stiff. it allows him to lean forward and kiss your own swollen lips with his, seeing the excess of your eyeshadows being smeared by your tears from how hard and delicious he had fucked you. it allows him to make hickeys on you, indent from bite marks alongside the skin turning dark littering the neck and collarbone, showing people you are his. it also allows you to do the same, creating abstract art between the two planes of his skin from the promise you made to yourself.

when he leans back to rest his upper body against the headboard, you ask him the dreaded question—not even slowing down your pace as you still continue to move.

“what are we?”

heeseung stops you from moving, knowing the severity of the question as he seems to read your face. you could see his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed down, all of your senses seemed to become so hypersensitive that even you could feel the small pinprick of pain in your skin cells at the way heeseung broke it to create one hickey on your neck. you see his eyes darting to different points of your face, also trying to read what you’re thinking.

“from the rivals to future parents to fake dating, i, i can’t pinpoint one.” you tried to voice out your answer, making heeseung seem much more comfortable in doing his bid.

“i refer to you as my girlfriend multiple times since it’s easier for naïve people to understand. but, i agree with you 100% that defining us.” he points between the two of you, “it’s hard.”

“hmm…” you nodded your head before lolling to the side, moving your hips so slowly just so that you also don’t make limbs too numb. “well, do you actually like me?”

“like you?”

“romantically, do you?” you let out a pout that makes him poke his finger to your cheek before you return it by scowling. it takes long for him to reply. a few breaths are taken and leave as you also allow yourself to match his rhythm as you slowly chase both of your highs. the way your facial changes expresses what emotions you are feeling: wonder from the way your eyes seemed to sparkle, fear as he sees that light dimming down, anger at how long he replied as he sees you wanting to poke tongue to your cheek. it switches even in such a minuscule way. but heeseung got to be reminded as to why he didn’t stop you or himself from following on this path.

“i do like you like that. romantically.”

you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, feeling the weight transfer to yours as you think of the past months, the ever-changing label, and the ever-changing feelings you have for him.

“me too. i do like you like that too.” you start to move faster as your grip on his torso tightens, “but calling us boyfriend and girlfriend will be too inappropriate cause we don’t have dates.”

“what about when it’s just the two of us?”

“the appointments, really heeseung?” you can see his smile widening, “you call those dates?”

“i can call that a date because we usually eat after each appointment,” he answers with the right vigor as you change the way you see. that, hey, maybe they are dates.

that’s when you laugh right in front of him, “we’re really doing it backward. the have-a-baby to can-i-have-this-date route.”

heeseung also laughs at your new phrasing, trying to define what your relationship is as he helps move your hips faster with his hold. yet, not wanting to make you two seem so haggard to discuss something so vulnerable.

“maybe companionship is the right word,” he said, lifting his hand to brush away the hair that is sticking to your skin. he sees you gnawing your lips as you nod, bringing him to your embrace as you move faster, feeling his shortness of breath by your skin as you nip on his earlobe.

“companionship is a great phrase,” you sense heeseung’s head nodding beside your own head. yet, you continue, “but i’m also ready to fall in love with you.”

heeseung pulls your chest off of his as he looks into your eyes, your lips parted as you breathe out, not wanting to stop because you can feel just how tight your walls are sticking onto him. he leans his head close to you, rubbing his forehead on yours as he brushing his nose tip with yours, one of his hands moving from your hip to your belly that is carrying his children. your children.

our children, heeseung corrects himself.

“i’m also ready. if you let me,” he replied, making you nod your head as you leaned forward to connect your lips to his. he leaned back and brought you along so he could sit against the headboard, helping to hold your hips as he helped his hips move to chase down both of your climaxes. you stare at each other in proximity, a smile growing on your face as you kiss his temple, enveloping him in your arms.

“i’m close-“ your breath hitches as he doesn’t stop. you helped by rubbing your fingers to your clit as your mouth widen, a silent moan coming out of you as you kiss him while you heard his muffled groan, feeling your walls a tad bit relaxed as he rides your climax and chasing his own. his grip on you is so tight that you can sense the weight of gravity that seems to bring you and him down, feeling his release within your walls as it drips onto his lap. you lap his lips with your tongue like before when heeseung then connect it with his, pouring out the remaining unspoken emotion you felt for each other before you both retreated, feeling his breath combining with yours.

“whose gonna shower first?” he asked.

“of course you. you are so grimy it’s actually disgustin-“

he pushes you so you fall from his lap and land on the empty space on the bed, making it easier for you to push him out as he had tired you, body and soul. as you see his butt naked self walking towards the bathroom outside of your room, you still think that you can’t believe he calls you his and how he allows you to call him yours.

-

5. that's our lamp and that's where you love us

you know that you’ll not be getting the whole 40 weeks of pregnancy experience when you have twins. average twins are born in week 37 to 38. well… you are now in week 36 and you just want the babies to come out!

the braxton hicks contraction is driving you crazy as you can see heeseung panicking beside you whenever it comes. with the postponement of your internship—allowed by the uni—you just want the babies to come as fast as possible that you might want to come to the hospital so that dr. park can break your water. heeseung sits beside you, letting out his hee hee hoos as you follow along with the exercise before you change your sitting position to feel it disappear.

“another fucking braxton hicks, goddamnit.”

heeseung can only shake his head, seeing his companion wanting to let it end and actually getting crankier every day when it is getting closer to the due date. he has been helping with the living situation, especially when it comes to cooking based on the recipes ryujin gave to him when you just seemed to not be able to cook anymore because of the sudden contractions. but your appetite is getting lower because you don’t have the thought of it with the pain you are in. he has tried contacting the doula for questions but her answer is to try to calm you down and make you relax. or to distract your crankiness towards something else. for him, his answer is mario kart 8.

“can it get any faster?” you are practically screaming as you sit on the beanbag with heeseung sitting on his own. the projector between you projecting his pc’s desktop of mario kart 8 as you race through maple treeway track.

“babe, we’re already in 200cc. you’ll get a bullet bill and it’s going to be okay.”

“i fucking know,” you answered, but he didn’t reply as hard because he knows that it was just your hormone reaction. you can watch your wiggler racing through the position as the number rises. the box on the corner shows that you’ve gotten a star and you don’t hesitate to use it; making the likes of donkey kong, mario, and baby bowser bounce out of the way as you are approaching heeseung’s yoshi who is in 1st place. going up the half-pipe of the maple treeway track is when you get the three red shells by being in 3rd place, knocking princess peach out of 2nd place as this is the final and tiebreaker course for both of you.

you almost want to press to throw your red shell when you see a blue shell flying, aiming towards heeseung.

“blue shell!”

“oh fuck-“ heeseung can’t avoid it as the blue shell hits him while he is gliding to the last section of the course, making you fly past him as you have the red shell prepare to throw backward. you quickly drive above the tree roots and throw your red shell behind you, hitting heeseung one last time before crossing the finish line.

“YES!”

you cheer from your beanbag as you lean back, feeling it soften your impact as you close your eyes and rub your face with your hands. you can hear heeseung’s voice when he tells you “good game”.

“gg to you as well, babe,” you replied, feeling yourself much more relaxed than ever as you felt the fake contraction gone.

but that’s also when you feel your crotch is wet.

as you see the projector showing you the trophy of your win, you don’t hesitate to plunge your fingers in between your thighs inside your pants as you can feel the overwhelming wetness coming out of you.

“heeseung?!”

“what? you’ve won-“

his eyes gaze at your glistening fingers to your shocked yet measured face.

“it’s time.”

“it’s time?” heeseung asked, his mind’s wiring not right as he saw you standing up, wobbling from your weight. but he also sees the front of your crotch all wet and the beanbag being the collateral damage.

“oh fuck, it’s time- okay.”

he rapidly moves to the babies’ room where he already has the bags packed for your hospital trip as you turn off his nintendo switch. he helped you wear one of his sweatpants to cover the stain as he brought you out of your apartment and brought you to the elevator. you can feel one contraction coming as you hold on to the elevator wall, eyes on your phone as you count the seconds in your head.

“40 seconds…” you mumbled as you arrived in the basement, “remember it’s 40 seconds…”

“yeah yeah. stay here, i’ll bring the car to you.” heeseung ran towards the car as you stood there, eyeing the phone as you called dr. park to tell her you were on your way to the hospital. you can hear the ringing of the phone by your ear before the call is picked up.

“hi, (y/n). i was just going to go back home-“

“my water broke, and, and, we’re on our way to the hospital.”

“oh my- okay, we’re having the room prepared for you.”

“thank you.” you hang up the call as you then move to call haseul when you hear the wheel skid in front of you as heeseung helps you in the car before scurrying away to the hospital.

“how’s your contraction?” you hear her ask.

“it’s in 40 seconds and- ugh…” you can feel another contraction coming as heeseung takes one glance at you before going to the road. you see the minute from the clock on the center dashboard of the car console as you mentioned to haseul, “10 minutes.”

“you’re in early labor. i’ll meet you at the hospital, okay?”

“great, thank you.”

heeseung had his eyes on the road as he overheard you calling your parents and his parents, not stopping until he had parked in front of the ICU to call one of the staff.

“my girlfriend’s in labor.” he voices out in panic, seeing a few staff gathering around you as heeseung leaves you alone to park the car.

you were brought into the vicinity by a wheelchair as you mentioned your name to the receptionist. recognizing your name, one staff told you that your hospital room is currently in preparation as two nurses come to take care of you. the nurse brings you to the room as you are greeted with dr. park who is asking you for your contraction, which you have counted to make you sane as you can feel the expanding pain across your body now.

“last time, it was 40 seconds and 10 minutes. the last contraction is 35 seconds-“

“okay, okay. let me check your dilation okay? your bathtub is being prepared as well as the midwives,” the doctor said, making you nod your head as she helped undress you and put you in the hospital gown.

now you understand why people want a fast and safe labor. it fucking hurts as hell, like a tiger munching away through your hip joints kind of hurt—not that you have experienced it yourself, but any kind of hyperbolic phrase you could think of cannot compare to this amount of pain. you had no other choice but to exaggerate because this is the most pain you have ever felt in your life.

“3 cm in dilation…” dr. park mentioned as you see one nurse helping you with checking your pulse when you feel yourself getting another contraction, sensing your womb’s clenches so hard against itself.

“8 minutes…” you voiced after looking at your phone. the doctor nodded her head as she went out of the room to check on the other things for your active labor. the nurses helping in prepare the room as you asked one of them, “when is it the right time to move to the tub?”

“usually when you’re in active labor, it’s 10 cm in dilation. but we can put you in the tub by 7 cm,” she answered rapidly, preparing the machines near you for later as you are prepared to go to your waterbirth room soon. you hear the swift footsteps approaching your room from outside as you see haseul alongside heeseung there. he instantly drops the bags to the side as he grabs your face, giving you a few kisses to pacify you as you can actually see tears also running down his face.

“what’s the dilation?” haseul questioned, furrowed eyebrows showing as she sees your body curling up from the pain.

“3 cm,” you replied, holding onto heeseung as you could feel another contraction incoming.

“we have to make her dilate faster cause she’ll be going into active labor in minutes now. can you dance with her, heeseung? just slowly.”

“i’ll try,” he said as he held you by your waist, swaying you from side to side as you heard him hum a song.

ever since your revelations towards each other, most of your time has been spent with him. sometimes you even dance around in your living room just because you want to, letting him know the mitski songs you have inherited in your mind and heart. how you also cathartically sing to them as heeseung has to take in the lyrics, because of how complex it is with its layers of analogies and metaphors. though slower, you let him guide you into a state of lull as your face shows him just how in agony you are to him.

heeseung feels guilty as fuck seeing you like this, knowing that you are the only one who holds onto the pain to deliver his children. he had wished there is some technology out that could let him share the pain to help alleviate yours because seeing you only mumble out words as haseul help you sip on your sippy cup while trying to make you ready is hard to look at. heeseung holds you so close, feeling your body quivering as you let out another moan from another contraction. with haseul beside you, she helps in counting down the contraction while the nurse you asked for information is standing by as they will help in checking your dilation. he could help distract you by nipping your earlobe as you gaze at him, making him caress your face so softly when he can hear the vibrating phone coming from his and yours as your family and friends are on their way to the hospital.

“6 cm.” the nurse checked your dilation as haseul added, “50 to 60 seconds every 4 minutes. do you wanna go to the tub, (y/n)?”

“yes, please.” you take a sharp intake as the nurse helps to bring you to the waterbirth labor room. haseul walks beside you as she elaborates on a few more important things because she can’t be with you during it as it is only family, talking to both you and heeseung.

“since you’re going to have twins, they’re will be a 3 to 30-minute interval between your labor. i’m hoping that after baby 1 is born, you can push out baby 2 immediately if the midwife gives you the ready sign to know if the baby is positioned correctly. we will be more concerned with baby 2 and we can give you an option to do partial waterbirth so you can birth no. 2 outside the tub. luckily, the midwives here have numerous water birth experiences and have the skill to give birth to multiples with water birth. will that be okay for you?”

“most definitely okay,” heeseung replied for you as the nurse sped to the room first when he stopped haseul, “how can i help?”

“when it comes to water birth, the midwives usually allow the partner to step inside the tub to help them. an advantage for the partner that normal or caesarian birth doesn’t give. are you okay with being in the tub with her?”

“i’m okay with that.” heeseung doesn’t hesitate to reply, making haseul taps his shoulder as she tells him to call him when you’ve given birth before she is leaving. heeseung watches the woman who has helped both of you so much walking away before bringing himself to you once again.

inside the labor room, he could see the hecticness of the midwives and nurses as they helped to pull your gown off your body, leaving you in your bra as he saw dr. park giving you an injection in your lower back before turning towards him.

“this is anesthesia to help her feel less pain. are you here to be with her?”

he nodded before saying his complete answer, “please let me in the tub with her…”

“of course, you can. we can help bring you water and such for her.” dr. park said as the nurses seemed to pick up what she was saying—already on their way to prepare for the stuff that can help him and you. heeseung walks to where you are, seeing one midwife checking your dilation before nodding her head to the doctor. he takes off his top and lets his shorts on as you feel his touch from behind you, seeing him stepping inside as well after you.

“slowly…” he whispered to your ear as you tilt your head to him, seeing him guiding you to kneel into the bathtub.

“hi…”

“hey,” he replied to your weak greeting.

“i don’t think you want to join me in the tub. it could get bloody and it’ll be pretty disgusting.” you slur out your words as heeseung sees the midwives preparing on the other side of the tub. both of you kneel as you feel the water rising to your waist before he is the one laying down first, tapping his thighs so you can sit down on them.

“i’ve seen you bloody before when you got a nosebleed after i threw the basketball too hard at you and we have showered together before. this definitely will be the highlight of our relationship,” heeseung jokingly said before tugging you into his embrace, feeling your body shaking as another contraction is currently ongoing.

“remember your hee hee hoos, babe,” he whispered to your ear as you nodded, the midwives checking in on you as you are now in active labor.

“i will signal you to push when it is time, miss (l/n). do your breathing exercise,” the midwife says beside you as you see dr. park in her surgeon outfit, ready to help you as best as she can. your tired eyes are now wide open as you feel a surge of force within you from hearing what she said, enough force that turns into strength as you have one mission blaring in your mind.

to deliver your babies as safe as possible.

“okay, when you feel your muscles contracting, count down and push okay?” you nodded your head as you felt heeseung kissing your temple to soothe you. his eyes full of admiration as he can see your face being alive once again. you grunt as you feel the contraction—starting your breathing exercise.

“this one is a push. 1, 2, push.”

you let out a scream as you can feel the movement from underneath you, trying your best to push with your might as you can feel the weird sensation of pushing out like you were called by nature. but this, now this actually hurts.

“good job, two more pushes. ready when you are,” the midwife continues as two of them inspect from the side. heeseung has his lips near your ear. you can hear him whisper.

“they’re almost here, you can do it, (y/n).” his voice sounded so soft, rather low timbre as he helped you relax.

you’ve gone through the next two pushes, and are now on a pause as you awaited your next contraction before pushing again and again. right now, you feel both the most powerful and most helpless you have ever been. everything depends on you and the way your body’s primal instinct kicks in as you just want baby no. 1 to get out. blood has mixed with water as your mucous plug broke making you feel helpless once again because you are the only one being able to deliver the birth. all the others—including the midwives, dr. park, and heeseung—are there to support you in your painful moment. that’s when you feel it, the dreaded ring of fire that haseul has told you about.

you let out such a primal scream that you can feel your voice box getting sore as the ring of fire burns with your skin stretching from it, hearing the midwives and doctor talking about the crowning as heeseung focused on giving you water to drink from behind you. he could only be there as a hand to hold from you, feeling your nails breaking through his skin as he also bleeds. but he has all his focus on you.

the burning hurts so bad but when you feel the big part coming out from one final push, the rest feels like a slug as you see one of the midwives have their gloved hands inside the crimson water. your head leans back against heeseung’s shoulder as he sees the other midwife bringing the surgical scissor when he sees a blurry small silhouette of a grayish being. the other midwife immediately clamps the cord that is hanging out of your canal as you are reminded of how twins share a placenta.

heeseung’s eyes seemed too focused on the small figure being carried away when he felt your trembling body slow as the other midwife pressed her hands up against your belly, feeling if baby 2 was in the right position or not. the midwife gave him a nod as he looked down to see you nearly passed out; your eyes were blurry as you looked at the shining light from above you before it was covered by his face.

“you’re doing so well, baby. one more left,” he said as he eased to pivot your head, letting his lips placed against you as you could feel yourself waking up. that and the loud sound of a baby crying as you and heeseung look towards the source. seeing the crowd opens up as the midwife and dr. park helps examine the baby to see if they’re healthy. he can hear your exasperated laugh as you let out such a wide smile that makes his heart calm, making him rub your bump carefully as he also stares at the location of where his baby is.

the midwife responsible for them approaches you with a bundle in a towel, making your weak body sit up as you carefully position your hands so that she can put the baby into your hold. when you look at them, you can’t control your tears as the midwife helps to push the towel to let your skin touch the baby’s.

“it’s the boy…” the midwife says as the other ones are talking with the doctor about your second twin’s condition. his eyes are open and you can’t help but coo when you look at him, hearing his cry calming down when he senses your skin. the color coming to his skin as you heard heeseung gasp from behind you while you felt your heart beating faster as you watched his little face. heeseung’s head rested on your shoulder as both of you were speechless.

his head nudges to yours as you can feel the familiar contraction building up once again. your head already has one thing in your mind as you stare at baby no. 1. that you are going to deliver his sister as safe and clear as he is.

-

“she’s sleeping right now.” heeseung said as he turned around to see you sitting with your back leaning against the lifted upper half of the hospital bed, suspending you as you unconsciously hold on to both of your babies who are resting their cheeks against your skin.

your parents and his parents arrived on time when the nurses escorted your sleeping self to your room. heeseung beside the two incubators with a towel around his torso, gazing at the two newborn babies as they move around and wiggle their limbs, seeing their chubby cheeks as they gaze around the room with both confusion and wonder. to see the light outside of your womb for the first time while the nurses and midwives check their conditions and record them as part of society. he sensed his mom’s hand wrapped around his shoulder, hearing her sniffles as she cooed at the baby.

“be patient, dearest. you’ll be brought to your mama soon,” he recalls hearing his mom say while her son can only stare at them, a smile urging to come out as he can feel the tears of joy forming once again.

turning to face the people, he watches the faces of his friends gazing at their new niece and nephew with various versions of happiness—some including tears. he sees ryujin having both arms behind chaeryeong, who is looking giddy, and minjeong, who is snorting into the tissues she’s holding.

“what are their names?” he hears jimin say, seeing his rare pout as he eyes all three of the sleeping figures.

“we’ve decided on it and we named them siwoo and siah,” heeseung replied with the names you and he had chosen together nearly two weeks before their arrival.

“lee siwoo and lee siah…” minjeong mumbles out, hearing the pitch of her voice rising before she weeps once again to her tissue, making ryujin tug her head to the crook of her neck.

“how are you feeling, hee?” jeongin innocently asked before beomgyu cut him off.

“what do you mean ‘how is he feeling’? he’s freaking crying,” the boy pointed out as heeseung sensed the dried tear tracks on his cheeks before another set seem to threaten to fall. yet, it is still vague for them to actually read what they meant.

“aww, heeseung…” chaeryeong coos as heeseung walks to the extra bed beside yours and sits down, rubbing the areas near both of his eyes with his hands as he felt chaeryeong sits beside him and soothing him down with a hand on his back—he now understands why you seem to love chaeryeong’s hugs so much. he bites his bottom lip to hold himself to not let a tear fall again. yet he failed once again when he looks up to see you holding both of your babies in your arms.

“i’m so fucking proud of her and i just feel awful that she’s the only that could feel that immense amount of pain,” he said his truth, wiping the tears with the hand that has a bandage brandishing his lower arm from the scratch you gave him as you gave birth. the only physical evidence of your pain that he can fully feel. chaeryeong’s soothing hand continues to calm him down as he senses another weight sitting by his side when a hand comes to push him closer to that side, smelling the familiar fragrance of beomgyu as he tucks heeseung’s head to his crook while he lightly messaged his arm.

“you’re going to be the best dad, hee,” beomgyu said as he watched the rest of them nodding their head. yet his eyes are stuck to your sleeping form, feeling the spark now catching fire as he had found the light at the end of the tunnel of guilt, shame, and despair for not being there enough for you for the past months and especially today.

to be the same dad for them and the best boyfriend for you.

-

the same thing couldn’t be said to you as you can feel your mood swinging about when you come home with the babies.

haseul has been helping you within the apartment as she teaches you to use the milk pumper and prepare the breastmilk for them, teaching you various tips to get your pre-pregnancy body back as you felt the belly wrap bound tight around you when you sleep in your shared bed. that’s when the baby monitor turns on when you hear the sound of one of the babies waking you up from the room across yours.

you sit up on the bed, no wick of sleep clear on your face, as heeseung stirs in his sleep when the baby’s cry gets louder from the speaker.

“whose turn is it?” he mumbles, as you stare down at him beside you. you have done graveyard shifts of taking care of your babies numerous times as heeseung couldn’t keep schedule because of his internship. so it is supposed to be his turn now to care for them.

“it’s my turn,” you replied, letting him sleep once again as you heard him hum and slip away into the slumber. his hand reaching to grasp yours before letting out a “good luck” that he has always given to you when it’s your turn to take care of them on the latest of nights.

you step out of your shared bed as you make your way across to the babies’ room to see siah wriggling in her crib, making you walk quickly so that she doesn’t wake her brother up. slowly picking her up, you lift your oversized t-shirt as you brought her lips to one of your nipples.

“come on. latch,” you mumbled as you support siah’s head as best as you can when you felt her latch onto your boob, sucking on the nipples as you feel the milk coming out so she could consume it.

“you’re a hungry, hungry baby, are you?” you lightly nagged her as you stood still, looking at siwoo who was sleeping peacefully with his pacifier even though his sister was crying her heart out. you eyed the room that you and heeseung had decorated as best as you could with the budget you set and your unpredictable schedule of staying here longer or leaving within the year of the rent. in one corner of the room sits the baby gifts people brought to the baby shower. you see the silhouette of the baby car seats you can imagine them using when they’re older so you can take them out and the set pajamas that were bought by heeseung’s family member before you turn to look at the decoration hanging from both of the cribs of animals and stars. another gift from the pile of gifts.

you rested siah’s head on your shoulder and you lightly pat her back, helping her to digest the milk she was drinking—doing everything haseul, mama, heeseung’s mom, and jeongin’s mom have told you. hearing the small burp coming out from her, you wanted to put her down so she could sleep when you sensed her gripping onto your lifted shirt, not wanting to let you go just yet. you sigh as you step to one of their cabinets to find the baby wrap, placing her on the changing station as you wrap the soft, stretchy fabric around your upper body before placing her in her designated slot; securing her legs with the wrap holding onto you tight as taught by haseul who teaches you the right way to use it.

heeseung’s hand reaches for your side, expecting to meet your body or at least your hand in his touch when he feels... nothing.

nothing but your unkept side of the comforter and the creases of the bedsheets as they are the remaining of your being.

he remembered he was woken up by the sound of the baby crying from the monitor. but with it now gone, he was already expecting you to come back to him. yet when he taps more around the surroundings of your supposed side of the bed, his eyes instantly open to see the dark empty space where you should’ve been. he doesn’t care that he has such heavy lids and wobbling steps, he just wants you back in his arms as he sleeps through the night.

opening the door to the babies’s room, he didn’t find your apparatus by the crib soothing one of the babies. heeseung lets his body glide towards the cribs, rubbing the edge of his eyes to make him awake. he eyes siwoo’s crib to find him there, looking like a cute sleepy angel. but he can’t call the same about siah’s as he finds it empty.

“(y/n)?” he calls for you, voice so small with a raspy throat as he didn’t hear your answer, waking him up with a jolt as he realizes that both you and siah aren’t here in the room.

his feet—still wobbly as fuck—brought him to the hallway as his eyes adjust to the dark; seeing the nightlight and his rgb light turned on in the living area helps him to search easier. that’s when he picked up such a clear gush of wind when he turned towards the balcony to see its sheer curtain flowing inside. he then scanned the room to discover one beanbag missing from the other as he approached the window to see it being sat by someone. someone who is sobbing.

drifting the sheer curtain away to the side, heeseung finds the face of his daughter on top of the shaking shoulder wearing a familiar pajama set. head leaning down to the front as the figure adjusts its weight on the beanbag. your hands covering your face as heeseung figures out the sound of the muffled sob coming from you.

“(y/n)?”

you jumped and turned your head around to find heeseung’s alert figure, feeling the weight of siah on you as you wrapped the cloth so tight that it was secure for you to move safely before turning back to gaze at the 3 am sky on the balcony.

“go to sleep. you have work in the morning,” you mumbled out, rubbing your hands against each other.

“i will not sleep if you aren’t,” he answered, joining you as he stepped forward to lean against the railing. the cold wind woke him up as he heard your remaining sniffles, eyes gazing at you as the tranquility seemed to turn your tear’s faucet on once again. he hasn’t noticed just how deep your panda eyes have become, knowing that the babies have awoken you for feeding time at ungodly hours. but that’s when realize how jittery you also become, how you don’t eat as much as you focus on returning your body back to how it was before you’re pregnant; how you can’t seem to define yourself after giving birth.

“i don’t think i’ll be anything other than a mom.”

his ears perk up and he swallows his saliva, processing just how concise yet poignant your words are. reminding him that you have your own perspectives, too.

“i, i don’t know. how can i be anything other than a mom when i’m here, even with all the preparation we've done, still isn’t ready to face it…”

baby blues, he remembered the doula told him as he saw you taking care of the two babies while haseul helped in cleaning the baby bottles up for you.

“you have to be prepared if she got baby blues, heeseung. especially since she’s taking care of two now. she may be hiding some things for you, but you can see it when you see it.”

“how could i help her?” heeseung said, seeing you with siah wrapped with the stretchy cloth on your back as siwoo is currently feeding off of you. a slight glow on your skin as you seem to lightly rock your body to satisfy both of them at the same time.

“help her make time for herself. she is also human with her own mind, body, and soul. help her take care of herself first by taking charge to care for both siah and siwoo.” haseul replied, turning her head so he could see her smirk of acknowledgment—heeseung is one of her students that she is proud of alongside you.

“i know you can.”

“you are also everything including being a mom, (l/n)(y/n),” he spoke, kneeling down beside your figure on the beanbag as he watched your eyes swell.

“you are your parents’ daughter. you are getting a degree in business. you are part of the most chaotic group of friends in the existence of the world. you are a caretaker of so many children who would remember just how fun you are. you’re a guitarist who can keep up and jam out with musicians. you’re a mitski fan who likes to cathartically sing your heart out to her songs. you’re a film watcher and you love japanese movies so much.” heeseung gently grasps both of your chilly hands as he monologues, seeing your swollen eyes closer under the light from the balcony’s ceiling.

“and, you’re my girl. i’m your boy. and i do think you need to embrace that more. let me take care of you.”

you let out a big exhale as a smirk pulls out of you. “if you do, well, take care of me. who would take care of the babies?”

“i would, your parents and my parents would,” he answered, big doe-like eyes trying his best to convince you, “share your burden with me, especially when i’m under your arsenal. i can definitely ask my supervisor to allow me parental leave so i can have time to take care of you and the babies. you can even apply for work-from-home internships during that.”

“then our rivalry will just… stop?” you jokingly asked, but genuinely.

“make it more of like a friendly or romantic rivalry,” he says, leaning upwards as he pecks on siah’s sleeping head on your shoulder. “besides, how could i compete with you if we aren’t on equal terms?”

you hummed as you felt him moving towards your face, kissing your forehead before trailing down to your nose bridge, your eyelids, your cheeks, then your lips—feeling the flattery jump-starting inside you.

“you’re stuck with me now, lee,” you mumbled against his lips, feeling his hand helping you to stand up from the beanbag as he gently held you, foreheads connected as he stared into your eyes that are also sparkling like what the night sky has.

“i’ve been stuck by you for years now and i’ll gladly stick onto you until the fucking heat death of the universe.”

taglist: @raeyunshm @leilasmom @evidive @boba-beom @kwiwin @heesw1fe @aloverga @endzii23 @fluffyywoo @camipendragon @hiqhkey @wccycc @cha0thicpisces @y4wnjunz @yeehawnana @beansworldsstuff @kimipxl @blurryriki @amazzwon @reallysmolrenjun @stelanity @deobitifull @mheretoreadff @gandaengene @amaraeofsunshine @possibly-zoe0218 @enhypenilycometoaus @jaysupremacy @jungwoneez @iwuvjay @erenshawtybae @nctislifue @vixensss @smilefordongil @lhspeachie @b9chira

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[avelera]

Sometimes in genre fiction stories, you’ve got magical characters talking about their magical lives in public or wearing their superhero costumes out in the regular world.

Often times, the magical characters feel they need to hide or whisper about things like magic or immortality or fighting demons or like pretend they’re going to a convention to explain their superhero costume.

These are often lovely and charming scenes but let me be clear:

Nobody in a major city would give a fuck.

Just as one example of many, I was literally in line for a book signing in NYC and a man walked by stark ass naked wearing only body paint and basically after the initial surprise, no one did or said anything about it.

The amount of crazy you encounter on any given day walking around a major city makes you basically immune to surprise or taking any kind of action about weird shit happening around you.

If I heard someone talking about their magical powers next to me at a cafe back when I lived in NYC, I’d assume either 1) they’re rehearsing for a play, 2) playing/discussing D&D, and/or most importantly 3) it’s none of my fucking business.

I’m always curious what exactly people think would actually happen in the real world if a supernatural or magical character was overheard by someone who wasn’t actively hunting them or who wished them harm.

If you overheard a time traveler or an immortal or magical person in general candidly speaking about their life at the table next to you, what would you actually do about it?

Would you call the police?

Tell the whole world you just sat next to a real magical person and your evidence is that you overheard their conversation?

Report them to their nemesis? How would you even find them??

Seriously, besides telling your friends about the weird conversation you overheard at lunch or the strange looking person you saw, what exactly would a normal person do even if they really did overhear someone like a time traveler speaking candidly about their travels for anyone to hear?

I ask because I see so many stories set in a superhero or urban fantasy setting worrying about being NOTICED. Noticed by WHO? With what result?? What do you actually worry is going to happen? What would any average person actually do besides shrug and go back to whatever they were doing?

I’d accept that maybe in a smaller town you could become a topic of conversation and even widespread notice.

But let me assure you, friends, in any major city, no one would fucking notice much less say anything about any level of weird shit they saw. The whole point of a big city is that everyone basically ignores the weird shit happening around them at any given point.

So let the fairies and ghosts and time travelers of your fantasy story relax. If they’re in a big city, they could literally fly around downtown with rainbows shooting out their ass and the only comment they’d probably get is from people wondering what movie is being filmed nearby.

[tocomplainfriend]

I am mad

Yup!

Bro shut up, she is white - being Latina is not a race, is an not the same as color skin. And she is a second generation immigrant too. So like... this isn't like a Salvadorian person doing a cartoon, is a daughter of Salvadorians... That grew in the USA. Being Latino doesn't mean you aren't white, you can be any race and Latino. Still wouldn't make up for the lack of representation or the existing racism. In the piece of media that's "diverse".

Salvadorian is not a race, LMAO. That's crazy- you think someone from Argentina who is white, is not white cause of their nationality??? Being Latino and having that culture does not equal a race. It's in itself a racist thing. This Latino = Race is terrible, It also comes from the idea of the "You are not Latino because you are not brown", assuming all people from Latino America are brown by default. You know how much has that happen to me? -AND MANY OTHER PEOPLE.

(I'm Latino btw)

I already have an older post about it, but - you can really see the lack of diversity in the show a lot. (Will talk about it even more other day).

Again the main thing you get is MEN, hypersexual skinny queer men (cis). You won't get to see female characters being well written, thought all the season 1 and all the episodes we got rn of season 2. All characters are skinny and similar body types and repetitive design choices. Funny enough, shows that lack of human characters still have better race-coding that helluva. (and well in hazbin you'll get POC characters that are gray, lack all ethic features... even when they are humanoid. So that is great.)

Bro you could, you imagine a character being black and having different textured hair, and you go to hell... AND EVEN THO YOU ARE HUMANOID- your hair became straight and spiky, and you are now a light gray? If you build a world like that... it just seems like the perfect racist excuse to delete ethic features out a POC character because you don't want to draw them. "Not going to a single hint of their race/culture unless it revolves on their death"... If the character became a fucking coin with dot eyes, maybe (not really, shows with no human/humanoid characters still are capable to race-code their characters). But all of these characters are humanoid- why do none of them have their different characteristics? Also, this is about a real person in the real world choosing how to design a character.

This tweet also implies that a black character when they were a life they had ethic features, but lose them when they go to hell. Which is even more fucking stupid.

If a white person with straight hair goes to hell, and their hair remains straight (assuming it has nothing to do with their death), why wouldn't there be black people with textured hair? This is dumb. This goes back to the fucking thing of "No black people in fantasy media", In the same way, it's stupid for fantasy stories to revolve around white people characteristics in fictional species and people in that world- not including all the rest of diverse human characteristics POC people have it's crazy. The biggest problem here is why the fuck all Viv's sinners characters (main characters designed by her) that are supposed to black (or mixed like Alastor) have 0 characteristic. THEY ARE HUMANOID, THEY AREN'T EVEN ABSTRACT OR AN ANIMAL OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT. She didn't want to draw that nor change designs, and wanted to justify the whole concept of Alastor even using Voodou.

HOW ARE ALL THE ANGELS THAT VIV WANTS TO BE BLACK (black voice actors specified, or are race specified) HAVE NOTHING??? LIKE HELLO THE 'I'm such a nice angel character girl' HAS SPIKY STRAIGHT HAIR??? SHE IS AN ANGEL AND BLACK, WHY DIDN'T YOU DID HER HAIR TO BE CLOUDS- It's THE EASIEST SHIT YOU COULD’VE DONE.

BOOM! A FUCKING TROLL FROM A KIDS MOVIE WITH DIFFERENT HAIR. BOOM! THE FUNK TROLLS ARE SO EXPLICITLY BLACK CODED.

---

-

Bro, you know this whole thing of people with textured hair have to forcefully straighten their hair or wear wogs to a job... because people consider it ""Unprofessional"" cause racism? The erasure and discrimination of POC people and their features is a problem. That's why it is important to people represent all of those things:

(Marvel's Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur)

The only reason of why Alas tor is even mixed is purely cause Viv used the Voodou symbols because she thought they were creepy and edgy. It's sucks that all the angels and sinners that are supposed to be black have nothing.

[woodchoc-magnum]

idk. i'm annoyed.

i realise i am a fandom old at this point

and i have seen some shit in this fandom; witnessed the discourse.

and i don't post meta or spec or much of that stuff; i usually put all my ideas into fics.

but guys seriously. seriously.

eddie's current arc is not about buck.

buck and eddie are not currently dating.

buck is eddie's best friend and vice versa.

eddie is not cheating on buck.

eddie is lying to buck by omission, yes, but that is not a friendship ending offence.

eddie is on the very cusp of cheating right now. he went on a date with another woman, yes. he has not kissed her or slept with her. we are at a tipping point. we do not know what is going to happen next.

he only went on a date with another woman because she reminded him of shannon, who he is not over, who he has spent seasons trying to replace.

the point of this show is that none of the characters are perfect - and especially not buck and eddie. they all make mistakes. they have all made mistakes and will continue to do so because in real life, people don't always make the right decisions 100% of the time.

this black-and-white, morally righteous way of thinking, like eddie is suddenly evil now because he's on the cusp of cheating; that it's going to end his friendship, that buck is going to be angry at him for lying - do you have friends in real life? like, i am genuinely asking.

because if my best friend suddenly started cheating on her husband, i wouldn't be mad at her - i would be worried. am i alone in this? like i would be genuinely concerned and trying to help figure out what's going on.

all the shit i'm seeing in the fandom today, all of the spec posts and commentary about the episode and what might potentially happen, just feels like, once again, an attempt to paint eddie as the villain in the story to prop up buck. let's make eddie so terrible that buck has to have custody of christopher, right?

clearly none of you understand how a will works. it's for after you're dead. not for when you're alive.

but the main issue is this - now that buck has tommy, the people who tolerated eddie can stop pretending to like him. there's another option for buck now, so you guys don't need eddie anymore. right? am i fucking right??

i love drama as much as the next person, but in what world would buck turn on eddie because of this? in what world would the 118 shun him? he is their friend! they love him! they care about him! they are a family!

my god, nobody shunned hen when she cheated on karen. nobody shuns bobby and he indirectly killed 140 people!

eddie is a good person who makes mistakes, just like every single other character on the show.

that is the fucking point.

and the way ryan was talking in the interviews - isolation could mean any number of things. we know eddie has a tendency to isolate himself when he's feeling stressed out - does anyone remember season 3? season 5? buck literally broke down his door!

i'm just fucking tired of this bullshit.

eddie's not a bad guy because of this. he has done shitty things, yes. they all have. that's the fucking point of the show, and if you can't understand that or appreciate adult story-telling, then fuck off and watch riverdale.

[teamatsumu]

monopoly. (gojo satoru x reader)

summary: it seems this year is going to another lonely christmas for you. until your very intrusive coworker shows up at your door.

word count: 2777

warnings: fem!reader, canon compliant, smut, nsfw, dirty talk, whiny!gojo, desperate!gojo, swearing, unprotected sex.

There isn’t really anything interesting playing on the television. You merely turn it on to add noise to your surroundings. The apartment is way too quiet without it.

The characters on the screen are part of some overly cheesy Christmas movie, and you aren’t invested in them, but it serves as good background noise while you scroll through your phone and munch on some brownies you had bought. You make a mental note to thank Nanami for his recommendation. He really knew his bakeries. The brownies seem to melt in your mouth, still slightly warm and very fudgy.

You tap rapidly on the screen, not even properly focusing on the Instagram stories you were zipping through. It was all the same, people Christmas shopping, or pictures of sunsets, the snow, or coffee cups in people’s hands. Pretty boring stuff. But you don’t really have room to judge when you are sitting at home, alone on Christmas Eve, watching (but not really watching) some nonsensical Christmas movie. At least these people have something worth posting. What the fuck are you doing?

You sigh and switch apps. Instagram is not the place to go to when your life is the way it is. You shake your head and scowl. It isn’t that bad. You are alive, despite working in a field with a scarily high turnover. You have a job, you have good students who are fond of you. Good coworkers, who respect your skill set. You have killed more curses and you can feel yourself getting stronger as time passes. You’re making a real difference. Things are good. You’re good.

Then you glance around your empty apartment and deflate once more.

The sudden, loud banging on your door startles you, nearly making you jump out of your skin. You curse under your breath, annoyed at why anyone would knock like that. What happened to two gentle raps using your knuckles? Why do people have to use their whole fists now?

When you pull open the door, your anger is replaced by confusion, eyes falling on none other than Gojo Satoru.

“Wh-” Your eyebrows furrow. “Gojo-san?”

His resulting grin is huge, his black shades are splattered with droplets that likely started as snowflakes and melted along the way. His hair, white as the snow that coated it, is weighed down a bit as well, damp and unruly from the wind outside. His long, lanky arms are loaded with shopping bags, which he lifts up to bring into your field of vision.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, incredulous.

“I come bearing gifts!” Is his reply, answering and simultaneously not answering your question, in classic Gojo fashion. He rushes inside, pushing past you and into the house. You feel the cold radiating off him, making you shiver and hurriedly close the door after him. Your toes curl in your woolen socks as you watch him tip his own shoes off, arms still loaded with the various bags. The smell of baked goods and cinnamon hits your nose, and you can spot a box poking out from one of the bags, wrapped in gift paper.

You have known Gojo since you were teenagers at Jujutsu Tech. You were a year younger and very naive, while Gojo was already what could be classified as the don of the school. Between the many deaths and losses along the way, you and him were survivors, both now holding teaching positions at the school. Despite all that, you still felt withdrawn from him. He was your senior, and much, much stronger than you. While you two were on good talking terms, maybe even hesitant friends, you wouldn’t say you were particularly close to him.

“Why are you here?” You ask again. “It’s Christmas Eve. Go spend time with your family.”

You follow Gojo as he places everything on your kotatsu before shrugging off his huge black trenchcoat. His sweatshirt underneath is black as well, and you conclude that no one can pull off an all black look quite like him. It all sits so perfectly with his porcelain skin.

Gojo makes a face, sticking out his tongue and making a hurling motion. You suppress a laugh.

“I really don’t want to spend days listening to my father talk about the responsibility of being the Strongest.” He sounds disgusted. You roll your eyes in amusement.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

Gojo takes off his sunglasses, giving you a piercing look. “Trust me, it’s way worse than what you think.”

Your lips twitch and you shake your head, sighing.

“So you’re just going to stay here?” You ask.

Gojo pulls out a long, rectangular box from one of his bags, shaking it at you. It rattles, and your eyes catch the large letters written on it in colorful font. Monopoly.

“Game night.” He declares, placing the box on the kotatsu before sitting down, shoving his long legs under the blanket. You can’t help but grin back at him.

………………….

“This isn’t fair!” Gojo pouts, handing you the last of his paper money. You grin triumphantly at him, taking the money and brandishing it in front of him with flourish.

“It’s more than fair, actually.” You counter. “You owed me rent. It’s rent. Who told you to invest in the water company anyway? It’s rent is so low! Also, I have never seen someone end up in jail this often. You’re really breaking records here.”

Gojo groans, leaning forward and banging his forehead against the table. You giggle, tossing a bite-sized pastry into your mouth, watching as he whines and complains about how you are a merciless landlord and you shouldn’t have built so many hotels on one property.

“Well, there’s no point in playing anymore since you’ve gone bankrupt and all your properties are on mortgage with the bank.” Your words are so gleeful it makes Gojo look up and glare at you. “So I guess I….. win? Congratulations on playing the shortest game of Monopoly known to mankind.”

“I’m gonna flip this board over.” Gojo threatens, and you give him a challenging smile.

“Go ahead.” You goad, making him sigh dramatically and throw his hands up.

“Alright fine, you called my bluff.”

You continue to laugh as you pull your phone out, positioning it above the table and taking a picture of the board, littered with cards, tiny plastic houses, and two half empty cups of coffee on the sides.

Now you have something to post on Instagram story too.

A few hours later, you find yourself on the couch with Gojo, still trying to go through everything edible that he had brought to your house. The TV is on again, but this time Gojo is filling in the terrible movie with commentary of his own, making you giggle and laugh every few minutes. He had truly bought a huge amount of food, but as you see it disappearing little by little, you realize he has more than enough of an appetite to put it all away.

“What is this?” You hold up a small, light brown…. thing. You truly can’t place it. You have never seen anything like it before.

“A salted pastry. Dip it in this.” Gojo holds up a small plastic container with a white sauce of some sort in it. “It’s more of a savory treat than a dessert. But it’s real good.”

You do as he says, dipping the thing into sauce before popping it into your mouth. You mull over the flavor as Gojo watches, before shrugging.

“I don’t care for it.” You declare. “It’s okay. Not anything spectacular.”

“You don’t care for it?” He grins. “Okay, princess.”

You slap his arm, giggling as you chew. He laughs and continues to watch you, squinting.

“Hold on.” A hand comes in contact with your face, fingertip brushing over the corner of your lip and wiping off the sauce. You freeze.

You then watch as Gojo brazenly licks the sauce off his thumb, and you feel your face flame up.

“Gojo-san….”

“Satoru,” He corrects. “Gojo-san makes me feel so old. We’re basically the same age.”

You gulp, remaining silent. The TV fills in the quiet that suddenly falls on the room. You eye the kotatsu, the mess on the floor in front of the couch, Monopoly cards and money still scattered around everywhere. When you look back, you find brilliant blue eyes still staring directly at you.

You bite the inside of your cheek, Gojo reaches out to thumb at the dimple it creates on the skin outside. You let him touch you. Let him lean closer until your breaths are mingling, until his lips are making soft contact with yours.

He tastes like the cinnamon sticks he had been eating, along with something that’s very distinctly him. When his tongue slides into your mouth, you feel yourself stiffen, arching closer to him. Your eyes roll up when the hot muscle glides over your own, and you press closer to his warmth.

His body is lean and firm against you, his arms enveloping you and holding you flush against him. You detest the layers of clothing you are wearing, wanting nothing more than to feel every part of him in direct contact with you. When he tilts his head to slot his lips deeper into yours, deft fingers sliding into your hair and cupping your head from behind, you melt into his embrace.

It feels like hours when he pulls away with a loud, smooching sound, a thin trail of saliva extending between you. He breaks it with a swipe of his tongue, lips twitching up. The action makes your insides clench, your breath catch. And Gojo being Gojo, notices it immediately.

He wastes no time connecting his lips with yours again, and this time, it’s rushed, hasty, almost desperate, as he tilts your head to his liking. His hands wander now, from your waist to your hips, and back until large hands grab and squeeze your ass hard. You moan at the feeling, arching into him more, your own touch running all over his torso. You slide your hands under his sweater, finally making contact with his bare skin.

When your leg is thrown over his waist, you feel the outline of his bulge against your sweatpants, and you can’t stop the little whine from escaping your mouth. Gojo pushes your ass harder into his erection, helping you grind on him. His breath mixes with yours as you both groan at the feeling, and your tug at his hair, soft under your touch.

He is quick to pull back and tug your clothes off, both your sweater and pants removed from your body while you pull his own sweater over his head. His bare skin is a sight to behold, tight cords of muscles flexing under your touch. He is lean, but built, and with his disheveled hair falling over stormy blue eyes, he is a sight to behold. You can feel how wet you are at how incredibly sexy he looks, and you clench again, feeling so unbelievably empty that it makes you whine and your hips jerk up, desperate for contact.

Gojo seems to know exactly the effect he has on you, pushing off his pants until he is left in his boxers. His dick strains against the cloth as he pushes down hard against your panties, grinding on your clit in a way that has you gasping. He pulls back just enough to let his fingertips run over the damp crotch of your panties, before pulling the cloth aside to look at your bare pussy. He groans and bites his lip, running his tongue over the bottom one at the sight. You flush at the wanton look on his face.

“You have no idea how bad I want you.” His voice is much gruffer, breaking at the very end of his sentence. The pad of his thumb runs slowly over your clit, and your mouth drops open.

“You’re so wet already, princess.” He whispers, almost to himself. “Got such a perfect pussy, fuck.”

You whine at his words. “Satoru. Please.”

His eyes dart up, meeting yours. A grin spreads on his face.

“Please what?”

You groan. Now is not the time for him to become an insufferable prick again. You are dripping, walls tightening around nothing, and you want him inside you so bad it makes you ache. Despite the flush on your cheeks, you’re too horny to be embarrassed. So you speak your mind.

“Want your cock, please. Need it. Satoru, I-”

“Fuck, okay.” His thumbs hook in the waistband of his boxers and he tugs them off. His cock springs up, hard as a rock and flushed deep pink. The head is wet with precum, and the sight of it makes your mouth water.

Satoru grabs a hold of it, running the head through your slit, using your juices to slick himself up. You pant in anticipation, legs spread wide to allow him to sink into your tight heat, which he does.

Your mouth drops open as he bullies his way inside, walls separating to make way for him. His cock is long, and reasonably thick, and you struggle to accommodate the intrusion. It results in a delicious burn running through your core, and you revel in the broken groan that emits from Satoru’s lips. He lowers himself to his elbows on either side of your head, jerking forward to bury himself into you to the hilt. You sigh when he is all the way inside, walls spasming like crazy around him.

“Fuck.” He whines. “Fuck. You’re gonna kill me. Got the tightest little hole. You a virgin, baby? Been savin’ it for me?”

You doubt that Satoru is taking his own words seriously. His sentences are getting jumbled, more and more nonsensical as he pulls back and snaps forward again, setting a fast, sloppy pace. He is rutting into you hard and quick, as if he can’t bear to leave your warmth for too long. You let him ramble on in your ear, talking about how good you feel, or how you were made to take his cock, or how he is never gonna fuck another pussy again now that he knows what you feel like. You can’t help how his words turn you on, adding to the sensation of his cock plunging in and out of you with full force now, ramming into you until you are arching into him and cumming hard.

Your legs seize with the force of your orgasm, nails digging into Satoru’s undulating back. He doesn’t stop for even one second, and neither does his mouth. He coos and talks you through your high, praise leaking from his lips without a filter.

“There you go. That’s it, baby. Fuck yeah, cum on my cock. Getting my dick soaking wet, you’re such a good girl, aren’t you? So perfect. Makin’ the prettiest faces-”

Then he is speeding up again, breaths coming heavier and faster, cock fucking into your barely recovering hole until you are on the brink of orgasm again. You can see and feel how his movements grow irregular, beautiful blue eyes nearly crossing as he chases his end.

“Gonna fill you up. Gonna nut in your pussy, baby. Then I’m gonna lick it all out of you until you’re clean and ready to take another load. Ya want that? Want me to dump it all in you?”

And you’re nodding desperately, nearly shrieking when you cum again, pleading and begging for Satoru to fuck his cum into you, giving him the last push he needs until he is releasing inside you, painting your walls white with his load. He groans and whines as he ruts into you, hard and slow, not wanting the orgasm to ever end. His head spins, and he nearly chokes at the feeling of you squeezing every last drop of cum out of him. He can’t remember the last time he came so hard in his life.

You try to blink the tears away from your eyes, vision swimming. A whine escapes from your lips when Satoru pulls his softening dick out of you, pools of his cum leaking out right after. You try to close your legs, give them a little relief from the beating you just took. But two large hands are already on your knees, keeping you spread. Your eyes meet Satoru’s, and you catch the little twinkle in them as he lowers himself until he is eye level with your twitching hole. Your face flushes.

“What did I say, princess? I promised I would clean you up, didn’t I?”

[auteurdelabre]

Please, Mister Miller? SERIES FINALE

rating: 18+ GET OUTTA HERE YOUNGIN'S!

words: 13.5k

tags: none. Don't want any spoilers for this chapter!

a/n: Y'all this entire series started with me wanting to try my hand at writing pwp with a despicable lead character. It morphed into a story of finding love in the most unexpected places and the pain that comes with infidelity. It was a challenge for me to do a believable character arc for them, to get you to root for them, to make you feel for them. It was a delight to read your input, your suggestions and to see how invested y'all became. So this is my love letter to you, hopefully a fitting final chapter for these two horny idiots.

love, Emma

ppppsssssstttttt if you wanna be nice and send a broke writer some cash because you like her writing and her stories, the paypal addy is auteurdelabre@gmail.com because ko-fi is givin me a headache.

The End with Mister Miller

In September the leaves fall in Central Park, brown, lifeless and curled into themselves. You think you recognize that in them. That dead, emptiness, the need to pull into yourself and wither away.

Life doesn’t feel real anymore.

It hasn’t since August.

Without him (you won’t allow yourself to think of his name) life seems slow and hazy. Like walking through the world with a headache. Things blur and ripple and don’t seem particularly real.

School is the only thing that saves you. A chance to focus all your attention on something that isn’t him and his beautiful face, and soft curls and sweet mouth. Something that isn’t his muscled arms holding you as he slides between your legs to bring you pleasure. Something that isn’t his voice in your ear whispering how much he loves you.

You think you will mourn Joel for years. You will wear black and trudge from place to place, looking down in the mouth with red-rimmed eyes and a gaping hole where your heart used to be.

No, don’t even think his name.

School is papers and tests and online discussion groups. You throw yourself into the academic life, your essays are well received, your professors are impressed and your peers find you likeable during zoom classes. You enjoy being the one with the answers in this space because outside of it you have none.

How did it go so wrong? How are you not with him in his arms right now? How can you get Sarah to forgive you when she’s blocked you on everything? How can you survive another month without him? Without holding his hand in yours? Without feeling the rumble of his laugh along your back as he held you?

New York is a good place for the lonely hearts though. It’s a big, unforgiving city that doesn’t give a fuck if you live or die. The city doesn’t care if you struggle to pay your rent and go to school at the same time. The city devours as much as it gives. It’s cold and unforgiving to transient residents, to those looking for anonymity within its concrete jungle. And you relish that. You like that no one knows you, that you can disappear into a crowd, that no one cares.

You deserve that.

You helped break up a marriage. You broke your best friend’s heart. You broke broke broke. You stole what wasn’t yours and you relished in it. You fucked him in every inch of that house and you rejoiced in a love that was never yours to have.

Your apartment is cramped, shared with two other girls who work more hours than they spend inside. You don’t care, you don’t deserve friends. You want the only true friend you ever had to be back in your life.  But that won’t happen.

 Food is bland, the sporadic sunshine days meaningless, your existence a joke.  

And it doesn’t get better for a while. 

///

October is much of the same.

///

By November your savings are quickly being drained. The money from scholarships enough to keep you afloat at school but not enough to pay rent which has just been increased. You get a second overnight job at a convenience store to go along with your part time work at the coffee shop by your apartment. You work late into the night, early into the mornings, you write, you study, you collapse into a fitful sleep and then you repeat. 

You have enough for little luxuries, things like the shampoo you always favored. The one that he once told you smelled like Christmas as he trailed his hands through your tresses, watching you read on his lap with eyes so soft you sighed.

Food still tastes bland so you don’t bother with fancy things.  You keep things cheap so you don’t run out of money. You eat packaged pasta, noodles, soups. You’re bloated, your eyes swollen from the salt and your tears. You still cry.

You don’t know if you ever stopped.

You touch yourself to memories of Joel fleetingly. You rarely orgasm. Arousal seems to be missing from most of your days. As if without Joel all the sensations that once brought you joy have been drained from your body, replaced with a poison that turns everything shades of grey. 

You don’t let yourself think about him. But one day he makes himself known. A simple e-mail sent from an address you don’t recognize. The message is short, simple and devastating.

Before I die I want to hold Snowflake one last time.

You’ve deleted his phone number. Blocked his e-mail address from Miller Construction. But this wasn’t on your radar. You hadn’t thought of the ways he could circumvent your pathetically inadequate system. 

You don’t write back. You can’t. It won’t solve anything. Sarah is still there at his place. You know from stalking her public Instagram from a brand new account. She looks happy, does outfit of the day videos, makes lots of posts about missing Charlie. But the story videos you watch again and again are the ones she films at home. The ones of her sitting with a bowl of popcorn on her lap, a movie in the background. A large masculine hand- Joel’s- reaches for a handful. You read the hashtag. #mydadpickstheworstmovies

You remember those nights. That couch, that television. You remember evenings curled up against Joel laughing into his shoulder at something funny on the screen. You remember giggling with Sarah in that room about secretly dating Charlie.

You’re happy to see her wither her father, to know that things have been mended. There is no awkwardness, no strange energy. It’s like they’ve always been – best buddies. It warms you, it brings tears of joy to your cheeks. It’s what you’d wanted, what you’d dreamed of. It’s not quite like you and Joel never happened, but its close enough.

A story pops up when you’re falling asleep one evening, eyes heavy with fatigue. Sarah is walking in the kitchen, humming about what to make for dinner when the camera catches Joel walking into the kitchen, looking at his camera and giving a soft, subtle smile.

“What are you watchin’ old man?” Sarah croons off-screen, zooming in on his face. “More tile orders?”

Joel glances up from his phone, gaze glossy. He sees the camera and gives an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

“Get that damn camera outta my face,” Joel chides with an embarrassed smile. He flips his phone over and you let out a shocked gasp.

To anyone else it would look innocuous, but you can see in that flash of pixels that he was looking at a photo of you. The one from your date night where you posed in front of the I Love you So Much mural. 

You re-watch that one over and over until it expires.

But you don’t write to him.  You can’t. You know it would take just the sound of his voice to have you jumping a plane and meeting him in some dark hotel. Not just for the fucking, but for the way he felt wrapping his arms around you, how his mouth slotted gently, how he smelled and tasted and felt like safety. 

You never had that before.

You may never again.

Your parents haven’t reached out to you since graduation. You know they never will. Your parents are stubborn – especially your father. They will force you to make it on your own; there will be no financial bail outs or sporadic gifts in the mail. They don’t even know you’ve moved to New York.  No one does. You don’t upload to your socials anymore.

And a year ago that would have terrified you, but now? It buoys you. It makes you feel strong. It makes you feel independent. You’ve done this all on your own and you’re surviving. It’s hard but you’re doing it. You don’t need anyone.

In mid-November during a gloomy day a young man asks you out as you walk to the subway. He’s seen you in the coffee shop you work at and he thinks you’re pretty. He’s cute in a wide-eyed, sweet dimpled smile kind of way. Not the right kind of dimple, though. Not the right eyes, or height or hair. His hands aren’t calloused, his neck not long, his shoulders not broad.

He’s not him.

You turn him down kindly, watching curiously when the smile leaves his face and he calls you a dumb bitch. You just shrug, no longer caring what the opposite sex thinks of you. You don’t care what anyone else thinks of you, only the two people back on Rancher Street.

You walk home from work the following week, feet sore from your back to back shifts. It’s late, the sky drizzling and in your hand you carry the plastic bag from the closest bodega. It holds only a few loose packets of instant noodles.

You’re traipsing down one of the snooty streets as you call them. The ones with high end restaurants and lounges that your parents could easily afford. You gaze down at the approaching puddles, wondering how long it’ll be before the snow arrives. You almost bump into the figure that’s come to a sudden stop in front of you.

You raise your head, about to sneer up at the obvious tourist when a familiar set of light eyes gaze back down at you, an umbrella hoisted gently above her head.

“Tess?”

She looks amazing. Her hair is cut to just below her ears, her skin glowing. She’s dressed similarly to how she was when you knew her – professional, tailored.

You on the other hand have gained weight, your face swollen with tears and sodium, your clothing bland and dark. The drizzling rain has made your hair stick unflattering to your face and you wish you were anywhere else.

“Hello,” she says sharply, her smile a false one.

She’s alone, no one walks with her. She looks like she just left a meeting. Your cheeks burn in humiliation at the memory of your last encounter.

“What are you doing in New York?”

“Marketing symposium,” she answers, her eyes scanning you over obviously.

“Oh.”

You have nothing else to offer. Someone bumps into you as they pass, the sidewalks quickly filling up. It’s New York after work after all, you’re surprised a rat hasn’t skittered over your feet at this point.

“I never pictured Joel as a New York kinda guy,” she offers. “Seemed like a Texas boy through and through.”

Joel.

You haven’t heard his name in so long that the sound of it makes you wince.

“We uh. . . We aren’t… Sarah found out,” you blurt, surprising yourself.

Tess blinks in surprise before she nods slowly, her eyes scanning you as you squirm on the cement. People continue to mill around you, but all you feel is you and her locked in this moment, she shielded by her umbrella and you exposed.

“She took it badly then?”

“Yeah. Really bad.”

You wish she would just walk on by. That she would let you shuffle to your shitty apartment with its cracked walls and peeling paint so you can heat up your instant noodles and fall asleep to the soundtrack of your own sobs.

“It’s what you deserve,” she says tightly. “The pair of you.”

“I know.”

You wait for her to give a polite nod and shoulder by you, but instead she seems to scrutinize your face further. You feel it, even as your eyes drop to her expensive looking shoes.

“Let’s get a drink.”

Your eyes dart from her shoes up to her face, confused to see no guile there. There’s no kindness or softness either. It’s an offer, but not one from a friend.

You shift your plastic bag from one hand to the other awkwardly. You don’t know how to tell this woman that you’re broke. That after this bag of instant noodles you have nothing until your paycheck on Friday.

You don’t want her to know how pathetic your life is. Her light eyes dart from your face to the bag and the items inside. She tips her head towards the lounge across the street.

“I’m paying. Let’s go.”

///

“A Chardonnay for me.”

Tess tilts back in her red leather chair, crossing her long legs over one another after she orders. With her jacket off you can see she’s got a tight dress on and she’s obviously been working out. She’s always been a beautiful woman, but tonight she looks like a bombshell. She and the waiter look at you expectantly as the other patrons buzz around. 

“I’m good with water.”

“She’ll have a Chardonnay as well,” Tess smiles up at the server. “And a plate of gyoza bites.”

The man nods, leaving the two of you to sit across from one another awkwardly. You’re still wearing your jacket, your bag of noodles in a crumple at your feet.

You think you must stick out like a sore thumb in this high-end lounge with its soft jazz music and sleek tables. The place is dimly lit with opulent chandeliers hanging from the high roof, shiny black veined marble floors and collection of upper echelon clientele in suits and well-tailored dresses. You feel so out of place in your jeans and you wonder if that’s why Tess chose it.

You can’t say you’d blame her.

The waiter returns with your wine glasses and appetizer, telling Tess to let him know if she needs anything else. He doesn’t even spare a glance in your direction. Tess takes a sip of wine as you play with the stem of yours.

“Why him?”

Tess’s eyes are fixed sharply on yours when you finally lift your gaze to hers.

“Huh?”

“Why Joel?” Tess repeats and there’s genuine curiosity in her gaze.

You weigh what you want to say, aware that what you admit could hurt her further. But then again what could hurt her more than what you’ve already done?

“Because my boyfriend had just dumped me and I felt like shit,” you say with a croak. “And when I saw Joel… I dunno… He was so beautiful and kind and funny and a good dad. . . and it was this instantaneous thing. And I think in my own insecure way I wanted to prove I was worth something. That I was still desirable.”

You break off, feeling your cheeks heat. Its one things to admit these things to yourself, quite another to admit them to the woman whose husband you seduced.

“You need to know it wasn’t like Joel was trying to get me into bed. It was all me from the start.”

“I don’t think he was fighting too hard,” Tess rolls her eyes in a way that makes you feel small.

“I think it was that he liked feeling desired.”

“I thought he was desirable,” Tess interjects.

“I don’t know that he knew that,” you wince with a shrug. You shift in your seat, feeling her gaze heavily upon you. “He uh… He kinda made it seem like maybe you didn’t really express that to him.”

“Maybe I didn’t,” Tess offers softly as she glances out the window at the darkening street. You take a long sip from your wine before continuing.

“He said you wanted kids at first and then didn’t,” you offer. “Can I ask why?”

Tess moves her eyes from the window back to you. Her jaw clicks as she considers her next words.

“I thought that the whole motherhood thing was for me, I really did,” Tess says, popping another gyoza bite into her mouth and chewing thoughtfully. “And Joel is the perfect Dad… Really perfect. Like, he loved helping Sarah with homework and taking her to the park and even making her soup when she had the flu.”

You try not to smile in memory of that side to Joel. That sweetly nurturing part. Tess on the other hand looks perplexed, her shaking lightly.

“The longer I was with him, the more I could see that he was just made for parenthood. Made to take care and protect, like it’s in his DNA. He loves to love. And I think I realized I wasn’t like that. I like my job and I didn’t realize how much I like my own independence. And I thought that Sarah and our love was enough, but . . . " Tess sighs. "I don’t know that Joel ever really loved me.”

“Of course he did. I know he did.”

Tess smiles at your emphatic response.

“I wanted to get married, he wanted more kids and we were of a certain age. It wasn't that unending spark and flame, it was the kind of comfortable fire that keeps your feet warm, you know?”

You don’t, but you nod anyway.

“Anyway...” Tess shrugs, trailing off as she spears a gyoza with her fork. She munches thoughtfully before chasing it with another sip of her wine. Yours is still mostly full, sweating in the glass.

“Tess, what did Joel tell you that day? The day at the hotel?”

The day Tess caught you in his lap, writhing and begging for Joel to come in you. The beginning of the end.  Tess looks mollified for a moment and you immediately regret asking her to go back to that ugly memory.

“You don’t have to say-“

Tess leans back in her chair, mouth pursed as she looks into middle distance. You can tell that she’s replaying that moment, that time.

“Honestly we cried a lot, together. Joel never really cries so it surprised me. He apologized over and over for not ending things with me earlier. I think it would have been different if we’d hated one another, easier maybe,” Tess takes a deep steadying breath, looking not at your face but your ear.

“Then he told me that he was in love with you, never felt that way before, blah blah blah. I told him it was a midlife crisis, he told me it wasn’t. It went back and forth like that a few times. I was convinced it was the sex. That he was just wanting someone shiny and new. But. . . that’s never been Joel’s M.O. He’s never been that guy. I still don’t think he’s that guy, despite everything.” 

Tess shifts, taking a sip of her wine. This entire experience is surreal. From the way you’re talking to one another to the way you sit like old friends at the narrow table. She waves off the server who attempts to take the now empty dishes away.

“Then he told me the same things you did. That it would break Sarah’s heart if she found out that way. Then he told me he would give me whatever I wanted. The house. His truck. His shares in Miller Construction. Anything if it meant I wouldn’t say anything to Sarah.”

Your brows rise, you had no idea about that.

“I said that I would let him keep it all. The house, the shares, everything, and that I would never tell Sarah if he did just one thing for me.” Tess gives a weak smile. “If he just broke it off with you right then and there.”

You stomach sinks, your skin going clammy as if you’re right back there in that hotel room bathroom, cringing as you pray Tess doesn’t realize it’s you who’s just come on her husband’s lap.   

Why did Joel never tell you this?

“He said he couldn’t do it,” Tess says softly, and she shifts back in her chair, legs crossing the other way. She has an almost amused look on her beautiful face, as if she still doesn’t believe it months later.

“He said he’d give me anything else, but that. That he couldn’t give you up. That he was so in love with you that he would give me anything I wanted, except for that.”

You close your eyes, needing to ground yourself for a moment.  This is all new information, private information that was never meant for your ears. But it makes the ache for Joel grow stronger, the desire to see him, to hold him, just one more time.

Tears begin at your waterline and you force them back. You finally crack your eyes open and see Tess staring back at you.

 “You didn’t take any of those things.”

“No,” Tess shakes her head, looking into her now emptied wine glass. “I didn’t.”

“Why?”

Tess gives a sigh, stretching her back as she shrugs.

“I have money; I have rental property in Illinois. I didn’t need his stuff. And it wouldn’t have mattered anyway because the one thing I wanted he couldn’t give me.”

You’re quiet, waiting. The waiter comes over with the bill, discreetly slipping it onto the table and walking on.

“I wanted him devastated," Tess continues. "I wanted him to wake up every day cursing that he ever cheated on me, sobbing, tearing his hair out, regretting every moment,” Tess says with an almost sinister curl of her lips.

“But that could never happen because he had you. I knew that if he had you there was no chance of him ever being anything other than content.”

You swallow the tears that burn your eyes. “Why didn’t you tell Sarah then?”

For the first time since you’ve sat down Tess looks hurt, almost wounded.

“Because I know how she idolized her father. I couldn’t be the person to knock him off that pedestal for her. It would make me cruel and one thing you were right about is that I’m not a cruel person.” 

But you are.

You’re cruel.

You knocked her father from that pedestal without care. You took and took and while you have hints you don’t even know how their relationship is faring. Has Sarah truly forgiven him?

“Well at the end of the day you were dealt the best hand,” you muse, taking your wine glass and motioning towards her. “You’re beautiful, you have money, you’re-“

“-Consistently worried that any man I date will cheat on me,” Tess finishes for you. “You know how many second dates I’ve turned down because I’m sure that I’m terrified of being hurt again?”

And there it is; the realization that even after this apology, even after this talk, the damage you have caused with your actions will never truly go away. They will linger like a scar on flesh – faded but a forever reminder.  This breaks your heart and you push the tears from your eyes before they can fall.

“I don’t know how to properly explain how sorry I am, Tess. You never deserved anything like it. I wish … I wish you could punish me somehow,” you say, swallowing thickly. “Like punch me or. . . Something. I deserve it.”

“I think you’re being punished worse than anything I could ever dream up.”  Tess signs the receipt, her signature narrow and cramped. “Being apart from the person you love? That's a different kind of pain.”

This is the first time that Tess has really recognized that you and Joel love each other. That it isn’t a fucking and forgetting kind of relationship. That you love him as much as he loves you and that this is a devastation you can’t seem to move on from. This is what makes the tears slip down your nose, head lowered.

You see Tess push a napkin across the table to you. You take it gratefully, dabbing at your eyes and under your nose.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” you ask through sniffles. “I ruined your marriage. I was… I was horrible.”

“Yes, you were,” Tess nods, taking a long sip of her wine. “And I’ll never forgive you for it. What you did was completely fucked up and selfish. You helped to break up my marriage.”

You want to curl into your shell. You want to run and hide from her scorn and her judgement. But something keeps you there, almost like you want to be punished. You want her to lay into you with her sharp eyes and sharper words.

“But Joel was right in a lot of ways that night," Tess says lightly. "Our marriage didn’t work like we wanted. And while it will never make what you did okay, it does allow me a chance to go out and find someone who actually wants me, who wants the same things as me.”

“Joel wanted you,” you tell her even though it hurts.

“Not enough,” Tess says with her mouth a grim line. “Not as much as he wanted you.”

You don’t say anything to that; you just trace the stem of your wineglass slowly.

“You know, I thought this would be more satisfying,” Tess observes after a beat. “Seeing you broken, knowing that Joel is probably ten times worse. But it’s not. I just feel sad for you. You’re so young and you’ve gotten into such a mess.”

You watch her place her wallet back into her purse.

“And for what?” she scoffs. “A guy you can’t even sleep with anymore.”

“He was more than that to me,” you explain, finger twisting. “I… I’ve just never loved someone before. Not like that. Never felt love like that. Never felt seen by anyone before Joel, not since Heather.”

“Heather?”

You think about telling Tess about your sister. Explaining that aside from Heather love always came with strings back in your house. But you think it would be a disservice to this entire exchange. That she would think you were sourcing pity.

“It doesn’t matter. I just . . .  I just don’t think I’ll ever find love like that again.”

Tess sighs, sucking her teeth lightly.

“Maybe you should be with Joel, maybe you shouldn’t. Back at the hotel I thought it was insane but now? Now, I’m not so sure.”

“Doesn’t really matter does it?” you exhale with a soft laugh to cover the pain. “It’s over.”

“Because of Sarah.”

“Yeah.”

“So talk to Sarah.”

Tess stands next to the table now, purse over her shoulder. You glance up at her, brows furrowed.

“I can’t. She’s got me blocked on everything.”

You’re confused to see Tess smirking down at you.

“Back in my day if we wanted to contact someone we sent a letter.”

///

Dear Sarah,

I don’t even know how to start this. I mean, even as I’m sitting here I’m thinking of all the reasons why I don’t deserve you to give me the time of day. If you’d done the same with my father and helped to contribute to the end of a marriage I’d think the worst of you too.

I saw someone today who encouraged me to write to you. To let you know my side of things. I know that it doesn’t make what happened okay, I just need you to know what I was thinking.

I know you probably think that your dad and I were trying to keep this secret from you because we were ashamed of it. The truth is yes, there is a part of me that is deeply ashamed that I pursued your married father. The selfishness of that action is not lost on me. I will be paying that price the rest of my life. 

I know there is shame for Joel that I'm your college-aged best friend. I know he worries that you'll think less of him (please don't). I know he's ashamed that he didn't end his marriage sooner. 

But I think we are most ashamed of not telling you sooner. We were really scared at how you would react. We even promised each other that when you got back we were gonna have you over for dinner and explain everything. You just caught us off guard coming home early (not blaming you! It's your house!) I just needed you to know that it was our every intent to tell you everything. 

And I think I thought that if we told you together, that if you saw how much we loved each other that you'd give us your blessing or something. I think I deluded myself into thinking I could have it all: you as my best friend and your dad as my soulmate. Now I have neither. 

And I know you might be reading soulmate and rolling your eyes because you and I have never believed in bullshit like that. But Sarah, he is my soulmate, whatever that means. It's like we come alive together, life is even better than normal. Things I hated with Conrad make me so happy with Joel. 

I share everything with him, stuff I've never told anyone in the world. Stuff I thought made me worthless. But your dad never saw me like that. It's like he sees me as what I always dreamed I could be. 

Your dad gave me love that I've never known was possible. The kind of unconditional love that I look back upon with nothing but extreme gratitude. I regret that he was married; I regret that he is your father but I don't regret loving him. Loving Joel Miller was the most wonderful thing I've ever experience; it’s like being warmed by the sun. 

I know this is hard to accept. From the outside it looks really bad. I know. And yes we did a lot wrong in getting together. We'll have to pay for that the rest of our lives. 

We never meant to fall in love, Sarah. We really didn't. And I won't go on about how wonderful and special your dad is because I know you probably don't wanna hear it. I'm just asking that you try to remember our friendship. Was I ever the type of friend to mess around with some married guy for fun? Was I ever the type to purposefully hurt you? Ever? 

Hurting you is the number one thing we never wanted to do. You know how much your dad loves you. You're his entire world. And you see in his actions that you are the most important woman in his life and always will be. 

You are also the only true friend I've ever had in my entire life. I know I fucked things up and I know that I betrayed your trust. I don't know how to show you how sorry I am other than cutting all ties with your father (which I have) and giving you space.  

But I miss you Sarah. I miss the way we laughed together, the way we could depend on one another. I miss your loving friendship as well. I hope one day you and I can talk. I hope one day maybe you'll be comfortable with me seeing your father. But if that day never comes I need you to know how much I love you both.

If you’ve read this far thank you.  I love you and I miss you.

You sign your name, wiping away the tears that fell without you realizing. They smudge the ink on your words, blurring some. 

There was so much more you wanted to put in that letter. How staying away from Joel is breaking your heart being the main thing. How every day without Joel has been torture. 

You slide the letter into an envelope, addressing and stamping it before rushing out in the bitter cold to post it. You come back into the apartment, feeling strangely light.

For the first time in months you fall asleep without crying.

///

Its weeks later before you hear back from her. A short message on your Instagram from the account she previously had you blocked on.

[SMILLER44] Read your letter. 

Thank you. Do you want to talk about it?

She doesn’t answer. You can see she’s read your last message but she makes no attempt to respond.

You don’t push it. You just let it happen. She doesn’t have to come around on your schedule. You don’t know that she ever will. But she’s read your letter, you have that form of closure and maybe that’s enough.

You’re studying for finals the following week when a message comes through at two am.

[SMILLER44] Chsalrie is fgoan and iw miss himsso mhc!!

Sarah very rarely drinks to the point of drunkenness. In habit you respond the way you always have when she imbibes.

Make sure you drink some water.

[SMILLER44] Mnoegyt mom! Iknw@!

You don’t know what to say to that.

She attaches a photo of Charlie from what looks like a recent zoom call. He’s frowning, looking into the camera with a sorrowful expression. It’s clear that their time apart has been really hard for both of them and your heart aches.

I bet you miss him lots.

[SMILLER44] Yeh it hurttsd sobad

I know that feeling.

But it’s only a few more months right? Then he’s moving back to Austin?

Sarah doesn’t reply to you that night. Either she’s fallen asleep in a drunken stupor or she’s remembered that you’re not friends anymore. Either way you don’t hear back from her for the rest of the night.

The following afternoon you look down to see you have another notification from her.

[SMILLER44] Hey Hi! Feeling okay? [SMILLER44] Hungover. Headache. I bet. [SMILLER44] Sorry about the messages.

I didn’t mind at all. Brought back good memories.

Nothing else comes through that day, but your spirit is lighter. Even at the shitty convenience store job you find yourself stocking items and scanning lottery tickets with a smile on your face for what feels like the first time in ages.

For the rest of that week you get intermittent messages from her at all times of the day and night.

[SMILLER44] Where are you living? Address on the envelope said New York? Yeah. That’s me. [SMILLER44] WTF?? Since when did you wanna live in New York? Seemed like a good place to disappear for a bit. [SMILLER44] I guess. You see Pizza Rat yet? Not yet. His cousin tho for sure. [SMILLER44] You have roommates? Yeah two this time. And they suck. One smokes so much weed I think I have a contact high most days. The other one doesn’t clean up after herself. [SMILLER44] Ew And that one always leaves hair in the shower.

You remember that was always Sarah’s complaint during your time together at school. The girls who would leave hair on the dorm shower walls. Or the ones who would leave soap all over the sinks.

[SMILLER44] 🤮

///

A few days later another message comes through.

[SMILLER44] I still can't believe we're graduated Me either. How's the job? [SMILLER44] Management really sux, but I’m learning a lot. How about u? How's Masters? Good actually. I really love it. The apartment sucks tho. 

You attach a photo of the tiny apartment with yourself in the bottom corner frowning dramatically. 

[SMILLER44] Oh fuck that’s a shithole. Yeah.

///

You always let Sarah be the one to initiate every conversation, even if you’re dying to talk with her about your day. You don’t want to alter this delicate ecosystem of messages. And soon it becomes a daily occurrence.

Some days it a meme and an emoji. Other days it’s her in front of the mirror in a new shirt going “Yes or no?” (something that takes you right back to your college days together). Other days it’s like nothing between you has changed.

[SMILLER44] Charlie is impossible to shop for. Christmas is like two weeks ago and I got him cologne& socks. Oh. [SMILLER44] Shitty right? No. [SMILLER44] Be honest It’s not great. I have an idea! Tet him a painting from a photo of the two of you on your trip this summer? [SMILLER44] I like that idea. He loves sentimental shit like that. And you don’t? 🤨 [SMILLER44] Not like him. he wanted to get me a locket with his picture in it Yikes. [SMILLER44] Right????

Having messages from Sarah becomes the light in your increasingly dark days. You’re working, you’re studying, you’re exhausted. But every time you see that notification it makes you feel like you’re back with her giggling in the library, drinking coffee on campus, studying together. And through it all you never mention Joel once.

[SMILLER44] Remember when Conrad got drunk and bought pizza for the entire dorm?  Lol I forgot about that!  [SMILLER44] Did I tell you he tried to reach out to me? Who? Conrad? [SMILLER44] Yeah. WTF? WHEN? [SMILLER44] A couple weeks back. He saw that me and Charlie weren’t living together. Thought we broke up. Wanted to know how I was doing. Are you fucking serious? [SMILLER44] Yup. Told him I was okay. [SMILLER44] Turns out he’s with some girl in Switzerland.

Of course Conrad would rebound with someone his family would be so proud of. A blonde, willowy thing that doesn’t talk back or give him grief when he does shitty things. Who laughs when he treats the wait staff like shit or doesn’t mind when he parties late with his friends.

Of course he is. She’s probably a model with access to her daddy’s oil money. [SMILLER44] Looks like it.  U ever miss him? Conrad? Fuck no. [SMILLER44] U seeing anyone?

This is the first time in your exchange that things have tiptoed on the idea of you and romance. Her question makes you want to laugh. How could you be seeing anyone? Your heart has been ripped out of your chest.

For the first time since everything happened you are angry at Sarah. Furious that for some reason you had to get her approval to love her father. You want to say you know that I’m not! You know why! But instead you swallow and type out a short reply.

Nah. Not ready.

She doesn’t reply.

///

December in New York is rather beautiful. The people even seem a little nicer – sliding coins into the tip jar at the coffee shop. The snow that falls over the buildings takes away the sharpness of the architecture, makes it seem more magical.

But nothing compares to Austin with its warm days and sleepy charm. Nowhere could ever compare, not when Joel doesn’t exist in it.

To you, New York is the most beautiful in the winter. You take this time to enjoy what the city has to offer. You go to museums and you eat shitty street food and you actually go the Statue of Liberty even though it’s a fucking cliché. 

You feel you might be slowly coming back to yourself. The air fills your lungs and you walk down the street back to your apartment most days with a strange sense of hope. Like perhaps there is a life ahead of you again.

Like maybe you could be happy.

[SMILLER44] Hey Hi! How are you? [SMILLER44] Bored. [SMILLER44] Dad is making gingerbread cookies. Pretty sure he's burning them. 

You feel your heart hammer at the mere mention of Joel in passing. You’ve been very careful to avoid that topic, to skirt around anything that could be considered prying. But here she is dropping it into your lap.

[SMILLER44] Now he's complaining that the icing he made is too lumpy. 

Your heart skips a further beat when she attaches a photo.

His hands are held over a mixing bowl, mid motion. He's wearing his soft green t-shirt, one of your favorites. You can see the messy kitchen in the background and it makes you smile so wide your cheeks hurt. 

You wish she'd included his face if only so you could have something new to replace the scant images of Joel you have saved on your phone. The ones you can’t bring yourself to erase.

Nice to see some things never change. 

You hesitate before deleting it. 

I really miss both of--

No. Erase. 

In the end you don't reply. You can't. It hurts too much.

///

It’s Christmas in a few days and you have the week and a half off from your coffee shop gig and thanks to a Christmas bonus from your very kind manager who comments on your amazing work ethic. You think of spending it on a dinner out for yourself or perhaps a better pair of work shoes.

 School is finished for the semester and you think of the days ahead as you walk home from the local bodega eating the last of your chopped cheese. Snow falls lazily around you, flakes sticking to your cheeks as you stroll.  

Everywhere you look Christmas is in the air. Cheerful Santa's wave from department store windows. Ice skating is going on outside Rockefeller plaza, the insane light display at Dyker Heights, the couples snuggled together on horse drawn carriages in Central Park.

You cherish when Sarah sends you messages, but as the date creeps closer to Christmas there is a pang of longing you can’t overlook. This time last year you were entering into something with Joel that would change you. You were in his arms, you were falling for him. Now you're in a shitty apartment in New York trying to focus on studies and paying rent. 

It's possible that Sarah has forgiven you, but she's made no attempt to bring you and Joel back together. The truth is that she may never. 

You might get your friend back in some small capacity, but you likely are never going to feel Joel's strong arms holding you again. Never again going to sigh against his soft mouth as he enters you. Never going to hear those words murmured into your hair: I love you my perfect snowflake.

Paper snowflakes hang from a neon-sign laden window you're currently passing, causing you to still. You read the shop name, your mind on the extra money in your bank account. 

You step inside. 

///

Your phone beeps in your pocket. Sarah has moved to sending you texts now. You sent her a digital gift card for Christmas that morning to some clothing place in Austin and you assume she’s writing to thank you.

[SMILLER44] My dad is miserable. He just keeps moping around the house. 

Out of nowhere an anger begins to boil within you. You want to scream at Sarah that she’s the reason you’re both moping. That she’s the reason you can’t just be happy!

[SMILLER44] He's been like that since the summer.  [SMILLER44] I feel like it’s all my fault.

And just like that your anger for Sarah is quickly replaced with guilt that you could have ever been furious with her in the first place. She’s obviously been the one dealing with the fallout of a father and best friend who are miserable without each other.

Not your fault. You were totally valid in being hurt and furious. What we did was fucking shitty. I meant everything I said in my letter. I wish I had been up front from the start.

[SMILLER44] I think you made him really happy.  I think we made each other really happy.  I love him, Sarah. I’m sorry because I know that must be weird but I’m in love with him, I’ve never stopped. And I’ve never loved any man the way I love Joel. And I don’t think I ever will.

She doesn’t reply right away and you’re concerned that you’ve hurt her or scared her off in some way. You’re in bed, teeth brushed as the scent of your roommates weed filters in under your door when another beep sounds on your phone late that evening. You open the window to air it out, the night crisp before glancing at your phone.

[SMILLER44] It's gonna take a long time for me to really trust you again.  I want to earn that trust back if you'll let me. 

///

Joel Miller has never considered himself to be a good man. Never thought of himself as a bad one either, but in these last few months as he carves in the garage he’s been considering what it is to be good and bad.

Bad men keep secrets from the people they love. Bad men cheat on their wives. Bad men fuck the mouth of a girl half their age, aroused at the thought of being caught. Bad men stay married even as they call up said girl and make her come over the phone. Joel has been such a bad man in so many ways.

But he’s been a good man too. He’s never held your absence against his daughter. Never made her feel as if she isn’t his priority or that she was wrong to feel how she did. Sarah had no mother, Joel was damned if she'd live the rest of her life without a father as well. 

He’s a good man because despite that one mess up he’s given you space and not tried to contact you. He’s a bad man because he still watches that video the two of you made and it still make him come so hard he can only do it when Sarah is out of the house.

But he’s good because the love that he carries for you is beyond carnal and it makes him want to be a better man. Makes him want to be brave like you’re being, cutting those ties from your family. Makes him want to be patient like you and give you space. Makes him reach out to Tess at the end of November and apologize in earnest.

He’s confused by the cryptic little smile on her face over the Zoom call, but he says nothing about it. Just repeats over and over how wrong he was to disrespect their marriage like he did. That he was sorry he ever treated her with such lack of concern. He answers her questions with unflinching honesty, his knuckles turning white as he holds his coffee mug next to him on the desk.

“I’ll never forgive you for what you did, Joel. But I appreciate the apology.”

It’s enough. It’s more than he deserves.

At the end of the day Joel decides he’s just a man. A man who is in love with a woman he can’t have.  He doesn’t let himself look at your photo anymore – the one of you in front of the mural. He doesn’t let himself go on your social media.

He just goes to work early, works overtime and works harder than ever. He comes home and he makes dinner and he listens to his daughter talk about her day and he is content. He loves hearing Sarah talk about the challenges of the job, of seeing her grow into a capable young woman with her mom’s brains and a bit of his looks.

It was a few weeks of strained hello’s when you first left. When he walked back up into the house as your taxi pulled out, looking haunted as Sarah trailed in behind him. Of silent breakfasts and separate dinners. Until Joel bit the bullet and made her favorite dinner, until he insisted she come and watch a movie with him one night until things just started feeling normal again.

Sarah never brought you up. Ever. Not until this last week where her eyes have stayed on his face, sympathy and something else behind them.

"You miss her lots huh?"

"Sarah I don't wanna talk about her," Joel says gently. "You know that." 

Sarah gives him a strange little smile over dinner one night from his favorite BBQ place with the best cornbread this side of Texas. The day is calm and quiet and the house is decorated for the holidays.

“You called her since she left?”

Joel wants to tell Sarah to not ask about you. To never bring you up again. But his daughter deserves answers the most out of anyone. He lowers his fork, still chewing.

“No. She thought it was a bad idea.”

“Hmmm.”

“Sent her an e-mail a few months back. She never replied,” Joel says and he hates the pinch in his voice as he says it. He covers it up with a swig of his beer.

“Probably didn’t want to upset me,” Sarah rationalizes, fork poking at her pulled pork.

“Or she’s moved on,” Joel admits

He’d never say it out loud, but this is his biggest fear of all. That you have indeed found a new boyfriend. One closer to you in age with no baggage and endless love for you. The kind of man who fucks you tenderly, eyes on your face and whispers that he wants to marry you. The kind of man who would support you in school and the man that you’ll eventually carry children for.

The kind of man Joel would want for you if the thought didn’t make him want to punch a hole through a wall. 

///

“I hate this fuckin’ movie,” Joel grumbles as he and Sarah sit side by side on the couch. White Christmas is playing on the television and Joel has had just about enough. A bowl of half-eaten popcorn sits between them.

“It’s Christmas eve,” Sarah says with a cheerful laugh. “It’s tradition.”

Fuck tradition.

Fuck Christmas.

Fuck everything.

Snow and shortbread and every fucking thing that reminds him of you. Of your time with him last year. Your mouth, your body, your whispers in his ear. He sure as fuck doesn’t feel like celebrating.

“S’a dumb tradition.”

“Started because of you, old man.”

“Only because you were a kid and you would scream if I tried to watch anything else.”

“Yeah well you only have yourself to blame then.”

Joel gives her a sharp chuckle of amusement before swiping a handful of popcorn, munching softly. Despite you not being here, he’s so thankful his relationship with Sarah is good. He loves his daughter more than he could ever explain.  

Sarah checks her phone for what feels like the millionth time before relaxing back and watching the “Love, you didn’t do right by me” scene playing on the screen. The sultry intro begins as Sarah hums along.

Love, you didn't do right by me You planned a romance that just hadn't a chance And I'm through

Joel tries to hide his sigh.

What are you doing right now? Where are you? Are you safe? Enjoying Christmas? Did you go back to your parents after everything? Are they being kind to you?  These questions have plagued him since the day you left.

The doorbell rings, startling Joel from his thoughts. He glances over at Sarah, brows raised.

"You expectin' Charlie?”

"Naw, his flight just got in actually. But I think your gift is here," Sarah says with a gentle smile. "I'll need your help bringin’ it in though." 

Joel gives a sound of protestation, rising from the couch with a pop in his back before padding towards the front door after his daughter.

“What kinda gift comes on Christmas Eve?” He teases her, kissing the top of her head as she stands at the door. “And has to be brought in by two people?”

“See for yourself.”

Joel rolls his eyes playfully at her giggling face. His hand goes around the handle, pulling the door inwards and peeking around the corner. The teasing sweetness in his face is immediately washed away and he can only stare.

"Hi Joel," you say shyly on the porch, hand clutching your suitcase tightly. 

You’re dressed in a long skirt, tank top and light jean jacket. Your hair is done beautifully and your lips glossy. You look a little tired from your journey, but your eyes are bright as you gaze at him, your smile so wide your cheeks are pink.

You’re fucking perfect.

A moment passes between you and Sarah hides a smirk.

"I'm heading to pick up Charlie from the airport," Sarah tells you both as she pulls on her jacket. "We’re gonna stay at the hotel by the airport tonight. I'll be back for breakfast and presents tomorrow. I’m borrowing the truck, alright?"

Joel hasn’t stopped staring at you. He just gives a shallow nod to Sarah watching the way you give her a hopeful look as she walks out the door. His heart squeezes when you both reach for one another, hugging tightly. 

"I missed you," you whisper against her shoulder. 

"Same here," she whispers back before pulling away and smiling at you. "Glad you could make it. Hope you'll stay for a while."

"If your dad'll have me," you say shooting a nervous look Joel's way. 

"I wouldn't worry about that," Sarah says with a crooked smirk.

And then with a wave she's off, striding down the driveway with you watching after her. When she and the truck disappear around a corner you turn back to face Joel, looking strangely nervous.

"Hi," Joel finally croaks, still stuck in the doorway in a daze. "I-I can’t believe you're here. How’re you here?"

"Sarah called me. Said she wanted me to be your Christmas gift. I had air miles." 

"Best damn gift I've ever received," Joel says.

As if only now realizing that you are both exposed on the porch Joel urges you inside, taking your suitcase. He stops at the couch, suddenly not realizing where he should put you. He leaves it there by the couch, urging you to join him with a tilt of his head.

“You want a drink?”

“Nah, I’m okay thanks.”

He stands awkwardly for a moment, wanting to grab you, to kiss you, to touch you everywhere but he’s not sure if he should, if that's what you want. Instead he sits on the couch, his knee brushing yours. You both tense at the sensation, as if it's wrong to feel even the hint of one another. 

“So where you been all this time?”

“New York.”

“No shit? Why New York?”

“A good place to be anonymous.”

His eyes move to become fixed on your bare knee under your skirt, desperate to touch the warm flesh if only to prove to himself that you actually are real, that you're here. 

As if you're thinking the same you let a trembling hand go to his forehead, pushing back the curls there.

“Your hair is longer,” you murmur, smiling when Joel’s eyelids flutter shut and he leans into your touch. “I like it.”

“Thank you, baby."

Baby.

Now he takes his time staring back at you. Taking in the circles under your eyes, the soft curve of your cheek, the sensual pillow of your mouth. You're just as beautiful as he remembered, but even moreso because you're real. 

The tension is there, not just because of this surprise but because there is so much you want to say to one another. But neither wants to break this beautiful moment of reconciliation so instead Joel takes your hand in his and brings you to stand.

“Want some shortbread?”

“Sure.”

You follow him into the kitchen, marveling out loud how beautifully decorated the place is. Even more than when you were here last year. You take a moment to enjoy the sight of Joel’s biceps curling under his soft t-shirt as he brings out the plate from the fridge.

“No snowflakes though,” you tease as you take the cookie he offers you. You remember last year they were all over the garland and even in the windows. Now it seems they’ve been purposefully omitted.

“Ah, well, those are in the garage,” Joel says looking strangely shy. You’re curious at this, taking a nibble from the cookie. You don’t have to heart to tell him it’s awful. But he’s smiling dreamily at you and you find yourself sighing and smiling back.

“Show me?”

He nods, taking your hand in his even though you’re only going twenty steps. He takes you into the garage and you look around, expecting to see paper snowflakes hanging from the ceiling. Instead it looks deceptively normal.

Joel urges you towards the workbench where he pulls out a large box from underneath. He lays it on the table and takes off the top, his eyes sailing over to you as you peek inside.

Carvings, dozens and dozens of them. And all of them snowflakes.

Some are as small as your thumb, others as large as Joel's palm. Some are painted, others are wood grain. Some are intricately designed and must have taken weeks, others are smooth and buffed.

"Every time I was missing you too much I'd come out here and carve."

"Looks like you missed me a lot."

"I did."

There’s no hesitation from him and you gaze up at him with limpid eyes.

“You uh… I sent you that e-mail a couple months back,” Joel starts and you can see the insecurity in his dropped gaze. “You never wrote back.”

You raise a hand to his cheek, urging him to look back to your face.

“I couldn’t,” you explain with a tremor in your voice. “I wanted to so badly. But I had to respect Sarah’s wishes no matter how bad it hurt.”

Joel nods, knowing that your answer makes sense.

“I think I was worried that maybe you’d moved on,” Joel says with a wince.

You give him a sad smile before your hand drops from his face. You lift up the hem of your shirt, tugging your skirt down until your hip is showcased. Joel feels his heart pick up speed when he sees the tattoo there covered in second skin. A tiny black and white snowflake. The exact one Joel carved for you a year ago. 

"Got it when missing you hurt too much," you confess. “Still healing.”

Before he can stop himself he's knelt on the ground of the garage. He holds your hips gently, his full mouth going to press against your decorated flesh.  

"S' beautiful baby," Joel murmurs.

He feels goosebumps rise under his touch, and the sensation of your hand carding through his hair.

“How could you ever think I’d move on?” you ask, your voice soft. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you, Joel.”

Joel is still there at your feet as if kneeling before you is the most natural pose for him. Because with you he is reverential. His eyes search yours as he stares up at you, his dark eyes soulful.

“You’re so young and beautiful and wonderful and-“

“And you’re so handsome and kind and loving,” you finish for him.  “And I don't want anyone else.”

He gives a ghost of a smile up at you before he kisses your hip again, tenderly, lovingly and through the clear bandage you feel the warmth of his mouth. 

"Joel," you whisper above him.

He glances back up, seeing your eyes glossy and full of yearning. You don't have to say anything more. 

He slowly slides his hand under your skirt, fingertips tracing the curve of your inner thigh, edging your panties. You say nothing, just breathing heavily as you stare down at him while he drags your panties down your calves, over your ankles. You step out of them, watching him place them in the pocket of his sweatpants.

He lifts your skirt, holding it in his hands at the side of your hips. Your pussy is exposed to him and he groans at the sight of it there in front of him. He presses a sloppy kiss to your mound, shivering when you whimper. 

His fingers curl in the waistband of your skirt, pulling it down. He gazes at your sex as it is uncovered, groaning softly at the sight of it wet and waiting for him. The skirt is soon discarded and your lower back is urged against the work table.

His intent is clear as he gently urges your thigh over one of his shoulders. You breathe heavily staring down at him, his dark eyes fixed up at you as his mouth comes to press against your mound. 

"Please," he murmurs between kisses. "Just let m-"

He trails off as he kisses and licks between your legs, eyes rolling back when he hears your shuddered moan above him. You lean your spine heavily back against the work bench, one foot on the ground, the other leg hinged over Joel's shoulder. 

"Joel," you breathe softly if only to hear yourself saying that beautiful name again. The name you avoided thinking of for so long.

His large palms hold you in place, fingers dimpling the flesh as your moans increase. Joel feels tears starting at his eyes as he holds you, the warmth of your skin underneath his hands once more. His perfect fucking woman is here, and she's gonna come on his tongue. 

You came back to him. You came back. 

He slips two fingers into your dripping slot, curling gently so that he can take a moment to admire you. The way your fingers dig into the edge of the workbench. And now this sweet little snowflake, this forever mark dancing on your skin as your body moves for him. 

Overcome, his mouth goes back to your cunt, fingers still working in tandem as he begins to suck you clit in earnest. 

Your head is tilted back as your orgasm approaches. His eyes drift up to you even as his fingers and mouth work between your thighs. As if you can feel his gaze your neck bends forward, your eyes dropping to watch Joel between your legs gazing up at you. 

Your big, strong man is on his knees, laving your clit with his sinful touch while his big, dark puppy -dog eyes stare up at you with reverence. The sight of it has you whimpering, watching as his eyes darken, the black edging out the dark brown of his iris. 

"Uh huh," Joel growls against your pussy, sucking your clit with the perfect pressure as your thighs quake. "You come for me, pretty girl."

And you want to. You want nothing more than for Joel to fuck you with his tongue all night. But you find you need him deeper, need him closer. You need him with his body pressed against yours. 

"Take me to bed," you beg breathlessly.

Joel rises, wasting no time before his mouth is on yours. You melt into his arms, immediately slotting your lower between his. 

"I missed you so much," you whisper.

"I missed you more."

Joel can't contain himself. He's taken you into his arms, shifting you into a bridal carry. He takes you to the bedroom, laying you on the bed with a tenderness you can’t help but almost weep in the face of.

He undresses you slowly, kissing every piece of flesh he uncovers. Then he removes his own clothing, letting the items fall to the ground before you're in bed underneath his covers. 

"I missed you so fucking much," he tells you, peppering your face with kisses as he pulls you against him.  

"I thought about you every day," you say with tears in your eyes. 

For a moment the two of you slow the momentum down, kissing languidly as you card your hands through his hair and he holds your face between his palms. It feels like the most exquisite reunion of bodies and minds all at once and it warms you in way the sun never could.

Eventually his hands drift to your waist, sucking your tongue into his mouth as his hardness seeks your center. The two of you grind together, groaning and moaning into each other’s mouths before Joel pulls back to look at you.

"You want this?"

"You really have to ask?"

With a grin he urges your knees against your chest, opening you to him. In that folded position when he brackets you on either side he feels like he's holding all of you in his arms, like he's protecting you.

And he knows that when he slides into you in this position that the feeling is as incredible for you as it is for him because your eyes roll back and you whimper. 

"Tell me how it feels, baby," Joel groans, slowly drawing himself out and sliding back deeply, his ass and hips flexing. 

"So good," you murmur. "So full."

You inhale deeply, your mouth against his shoulder as the smell of his soap and wood shavings wash over you. The scent of safety and of home. Of love.

He kisses your neck, soft sloppy things as he sinks into you with a groan over and over, your eyes gazing down to watch his slick cock entering into you over and over, so slow and so deep it feels like you’re fucking for the first time in your life. You make a small whimpering sound, hips rolling against Joel’s and you feel him smile into your hairline.    

"There's my girl."

The sound of it, his girl, makes the tears sneak out the corner of your eyes. When you feel the light tap of wet on your cheeks you open your eyes to see Joel staring at you, tears dropping from his cheek onto yours and that sets you off, chin wobbling.

The two of you make love like this, whispered promises of unending love, of desire, of the torture it was to be without one another. And through it all Joel keeps up his slow and steady pace, more wanting to be inside you than anything. There is no rush, no time to keep. Just you and him and the future ahead of you.

When you finally orgasm it’s a powerful thing that has you sobbing loudly even as Joel empties himself into you. He holds you as you cry raggedly against him, your face buried in his neck as you mourn the months apart, about the pain you’ve both caused and ultimately at the knowledge that you are together again.

“I’m never letting you go again,” he promises as he rocks you in bed.

“Never,” you echo.

---TWO YEARS LATER---

It's one of your traditional Sunday walks, both of you with a coffee in your hand. You're finishing up your blueberry croissant and you're enjoying the mild weather as tourists mill around you. 

Normally you both stick closer to home for coffee Sundays. Especially since Joel's workload has been extra tough with his latest project. You only finished school a year ago and have been at your job less than six months. Despite his workload Joel has never been happier.

He loves coming home to hear all about your day. The two of you take turns cooking dinner. Sometimes Tommy and Maria join and those two always stay late to drink and play cards. Tommy likes to give you shit about how you first met, but Joel always reminds him with a severe look to drop it.

Sarah and Charlie are often invited and often attend, bringing over little baked desserts because as Sarah puts it “my dad can’t bake for shit”. 

Unlike before, Sarah doesn’t ask you intense details about your romantic life but every so often when the two of you watch Charlie and Joel laughing about something while they BBQ she’ll cast a soft look over at you and offer a gentle: “I don’t think my dad has ever been this happy.”

You always reply the same: “Neither have I.”

When you and Joel got married three months ago he claimed it was because he felt it was time to ‘make an honest woman out of you’. Which was a boldfaced lie. He was just really really excited to finally call you his wife and have you wear his ring.

You and Joel couldn’t stop beaming the entire time.

Of course your garter had a little snowflake charm on it. A private joke for Joel to uncover when he undressed you later that night. One that he enjoyed very much, especially when he found it was just the right length to bind your wrists together. . .

"Why'd you wanna come all this way for coffee, baby?" Joel asks you now, his free arm around your waist as he guides you through the throngs of tourists. 

"Remember the murals you showed me years ago? I wanted to see them again."

Joel is pleased with this, dark eyes disappearing as he grins broadly. You both wander around the familiar neighborhoods, stopping at your old favorite murals from the last time you were there several years ago: the bread and butter, the I love you so much where you take a selfie with you kissing Joel's cheek. 

"Ready to head back, beautiful?"

“One more?" 

Joel nods, his big hand swallowing yours. You find yourself standing taller when he does this, showing him off. You see many of the women taking second looks when he walks by, their eyes twinkling. Joel Miller is the kind of man that gets better with age and you are reaping the benefits. 

Sometimes he worries he's too old for you, but he still loves you more than you've ever been loved and fucks you like a twenty two year old on Viagra so you have nothing to complain about.  And while Joel does get insecure sometimes about his age, when he watches you bounce up and down on his cock begging for more he knows that you’re more than satisfied.

You turn the corner to find the familiar mural, still crowded with tourists and drawn all over. 

Before I die:________________

"You mind if I write something?"

Joel looks surprised by your question but immediately takes your coffee cup and his free hand. 

"Course not, baby. Take your time." 

You kiss him gently before going over to the mural. There are hundreds of white pieces of chalk all around the ground in front of it. You take a piece and go to one of the free spaces, your elegant swoops clacking against the backdrop of frenzied writing. You drop the chalk to the ground, brushing the dust from your fingertips and sailing over to a waiting Joel.

"Wanna see what I wrote?"

Joel nods, smirking as you grab his wrist and drag him over to the mural. He stands beside you, his dark eyes searching for your familiar looping script amongst the sea of writing. Then he sees it, complete with a little heart beside it. 

Before I die: I want to have Joel Miller's baby. 

Joel smiles sweetly at this, eyes glazing over with adoration as he looks at the mural and then back to you. 

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"One day, baby," he promises you with a sweet kiss. 

You know he's trying not to be too excited. He's expressed his concern of making you feel pressured before. "I'd love to have a baby with you honey. But only if it's somethin' you want. No pressure from me.' How can he not understand that you'd happily give him an entire football team? 

"One day might be sooner than you think, Joel," you say gently. 

It takes him a moment to realize that you're holding your palm over your abdomen. The coffee he holds that you'd insisted needed to be decaf. Then it's like it all comes crashing into focus and his eyes go owlish. 

"You're-"

"Yeah."

Joel is normally not that expressive a man outside the bedroom or even outside the house. So it takes you by surprise when he drops both half-full coffee cups and lets out a whoop before hoisting you into his arms. 

"We're havin' a baby!" Joel shouts, twirling you around. You throw your head back in laughter, arms around his neck as you spin.

The nearby tourists give cheers and claps, causing your cheeks to flush in embarrassment even as you laugh. 

But Joel is soaking it up, eyes crinkled in delight, and you realize that he never had this with Sarah. He was young and frightened. But now he shouts his excitement and you don't have it in your heart to tell him to keep quiet.

Eventually he lets you down only so he can grab your face in his hands and kiss you so soundly whistles begin nearby. 

"Okay that's enough," you tell him with a laugh. 

He takes your hand and starts to lead you back towards the truck, a goofy grin on his face. 

"I thought we were walking?"

"In this heat? I'm gettin' you home and outta the sun."

Not even five minutes have gone by since he learned of your pregnancy and already he's started to worry about how to take care of you. 

"Congratulations," an older couple says as you walk by. You both thank them enthusiastically, the older women grinning up at Joel. "Your wife is so beautiful."

"Ain't she?" Joel says, his smile broad against his tanned face. "Most beautiful woman inside and out." 

"You're a lucky woman," the older woman says with a wink to you. You look up at your husband and feel your heart swell. 

"Ma'am, you have no idea." 

///

"What's your guess?"

"I hope it's a girl," Sarah announces from her folding chair in the middle of the swelling group. 

"Nah, it's a boy," Tommy insists with a grin. "We need more male energy around here." 

Sarah raises a hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the sun, her engagement ring glinting in the sunlight. 

"The last thing this place needs is more male energy, Tommy."

The nearby group laughs as you run your hand over your swollen midsection. Joel's arm is around your shoulder and you feel his laughter rumble against your body. 

You're seven months pregnant and you're glowing. Everyone tells you that. You've never felt as beautiful as you do carrying Joel Miller's child. 

The backyard is decorated with tiny blue and pink baby silhouettes and it's ridiculously full with people from Joel's work, from your work and school friends, with Sarah's fiancé Charlie and his family, and your neighbors. The music plays in the background, the beers and wine are flowing and everyone seems to be having a great time. 

There's a pile of gifts for you and Joel to open later, and your parents mailed you out the largest package you've ever seen. You'd been unable to wait before opening that one with Joel this morning. 

Inside was an assortment of baby clothes, diapers, expensive looking cream, a bottle warming device and another small package wrapped in green ribbon. 

Inside this package was a rattle, a simple thing made of silver. Small and delicate with a pink bow faded over the years. Your eyes blur when you read the note. 

This rattle was once Heather's and then yours. It brought you both a great amount of joy and we thought it was only appropriate for it to be passed down to our grandchild. 

We apologize that we can't be there for the party, but we'd love to have you, Joel, and the baby up for Christmas this year if you would like to attend. If not we understand and perhaps could make plans for sometime in the New Year. 

Love, Mom and Dad

Joel is very excited to see what in his own words are "Where the uptight assholes live". He's still not their biggest fans and you're all trying to work through it. You're happy with how things are slowly progressing so far. 

"I'm voting girl," Maria tells you shrewdly, bouncing her own young son over her shoulder as she encourages him to burp. 

"I'll just be happy it's healthy," Joel insists, squeezing your shoulder gently. 

"Ten fingers and ten toes," you say after him. 

Joel kisses you sweetly. 

"When are we doing this damn reveal?" Comes a voice from the crowd. 

 Several others join in until a smiling Joel is helping you to your feet and guiding you towards the table by the patio that's covered in cupcakes. There's one small cake covered in white frosting and blue and pink question marks. 

Joel stands beside you, one hand on the small of your back. The music is lowered and the crowd comes to circle you and Joel. 

You give a wink to Sarah who returns it with a grin. You can see she's wearing the sash you bought her, the one that says "Big Sister". 

"Okay are y'all ready?" Joel raises the large cutting knife with one hand as the crowd cheers. 

Sarah raises her phone in front of her, hitting record. "Yep. Go for it!"

"How about you?" Joel asks gently, gazing down at your grinning expression. "You ready?"

"Uh huh."

His hand is gripping the handle of the knife and he encourages you to place your hand over his. You both slice down the middle, bringing the knife back out of the cake to reveal pale pink icing along the blade. 

"It's a girl!" 

Cheers sound out everywhere around you, poppers going off with baby rattle shaped confetti. The cupcakes are passed around and everyone gives their congratulations and hugs, citing that you and Joel are going to make the most beautiful baby. 

You feel like you can't stop smiling. Is life supposed to feel this perfect? 

The food is delivered shortly after, and the swarm of guests descend upon Austin's best BBQ. Paper plates and beer bottles soon line the folding tables Joel set up early this morning. 

"For a baby shower being put on for me I sure have to do a lot of fuckin' work for it," he murmured to you this morning before getting up to help Tommy set up. 

You watch the people milling around the tables, smiling to yourself as you watch them laugh and chat. The backyard buzzes with energy and mild chaos and you love every second of watching it.

"What do you think of the name Eleanor?" You muse as you and Joel sit next to one another at one of the tables. "Means shining light."

Joel makes a face as if he's not quite on board.

"Mmmm, s'a bit old fashioned."

You purse your mouth in disappointment. You'd come upon that name in a book you were reading and found yourself completely taken with it. You try to find some middle ground. 

"We could call her Ellie?"

Joel's smile grows at this, whispering it under his breath a few times in that sweet twang of his. Ellie Ellie. 

"I like it." 

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Joel's mouth finds your temple, pressing a lingering kiss there. His voice lowers an octave, quiet and husky in your ear. 

"You know what I else I like?"

"Mmm?"

"How you looked coming for me this mornin'." 

Your face goes scarlet and you let out a surprised giggle before schooling your features into an exaggerated look of seriousness. 

"We'll have to behave now, Mister Miller since we're both going to be parents," you tell him with mock solemnity. 

You don't miss the way his nostrils flare at the sound of Mister Miller passing through your lips. 

Nor do you miss when he follows you into the house moments later when you claim to need the bathroom. 

He follows you inside in silence, his gaze heated as he comes to cup your swollen breasts through the thin fabric of your dress. You whimper softly, not wanting any passing guests to hear you.

“You’re not wearing a bra today are you?”

“Uh uh,” you grin wickedly. “I know you love it when they bounce for you.”

“Fuckin’ tease,” he grins against your ear before he turns you away from him, hands coming to grip the meat of your ass through your dress.

"Will you fuck me?" You purr, hand coming to graze his already throbbing bulge through his trousers. You shoot him your best innocent gaze, lashes fluttering. 

"Please, Mister Miller?"

He fumbles with his belt buckle as you slide your panties down over the globe of your ass. Joel lets out a grunt before sinking into you, his broad chest bracketing you from behind. Your head tilts back, jaw hinged open. He feels so fucking good every single time.

He fucks you against the door; hand over your mouth as you grip his neck behind you for purchase. Your belly nestles against the door lightly and your hips flex as he drives himself deeper into your drenched pussy.  

"Made me a Daddy," Joel groans in your ear, hips snapping against yours in a fervor. "Let me fuck you full and now everyone knows you're mine."

There's a sound of loud laughter outside and it makes you whimper as his cock pistons in and out of you. His hand is still sealed over your mouth. 

"Take it all, pretty girl. Take it all." 

His hands hold you tightly, but secure. He's paranoid of hurting you and the baby but that doesn't stop him from fucking you until his thrusting hips start to stutter. 

You glance over your shoulder to watch him, eyes shut and teeth bared as he fucks into you over and over. He’s fucking gorgeous like this, neck strained and curls falling into his forehead. One of the buttons of his dress shirt has come undone in the frenzy, showing you a swath of his muscled chest.

Your man.

"Taking me so well," he groans in approval. He opens his eyes to see you staring up at him with hearts in your eyes and he grins down at you. His face lowers to your shoulder as he croons more filth into your ear ending with a sultry:

"Such a good girl."

"And good girls get your come Mister Miller," you remind him breathlessly, a smile lingering as he kisses you soundly. 

"Yes they fuckin' do." 

---------------------

a/n #2: Y'all I had to end it on a filthy note because of how these two started. Don't hate me for it heh heh

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