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xylatox · 1 day ago

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Laurel Hell || lhs

I am back to reading another lissie’s fics >< my first fic from her was ironically another hee fic (major motion picture [i hope i remembered the name correctly!]) which left me in shambles so im pretty excited to read another one (thank you quiz for sending me here). Anyways lol, unto my thoughts (❁´◡`❁)

Starting off strong by listening to the playlist too (i tried my best to ignore the songs to feel the full surprise for part 2)

Immediately i love that the first song is Valentine, Texas and the memory mc has with Heeseung has been on Valentines ugh. I loved the prologue it was so sweet, i love that this sets the tone for their relationship

your hands rested on top of your stomach, feeling a little bulge that was not there a month ago. his ice americano contrasts with your hot jasmine tea as you sit across from each other. years upon years of history went on pause for this moment. for a truce that you are proposing.

Oh we are getting right into the pregnancy trope oh my god i wasnt mentally prepared. Also seeing their rivalry throughout the years is p intense; they always do say love and hate are on opposite sides of the same coin, no? I know they dont like hate each other like that but you get what i mean~

“don’t lie to me, (y/n).” his head pulls back from your crook as you watch his bangs faltering from the hard pounding to his mattress. “god, you’re so fucking hot when you’re under me.”

Insane words for a rival to say Heeseung

Oh this is a visual. I also love how you incorporate the flashback in between their conversation, thats so cool

your palm is now against your forehead, brushing against your face as it trails down when you let out a groan, “you’re trying to make a rivalry on taking care of this baby…” you let out your guess as heeseung lets out his signature smirk and a voiceless ‘bingo’.

???? Heeseung sweetheart are you okay?

Why does Hee so casually say hes gonna be a dad wtf 😭

“i do you one better, seung.” jeongin said as heeseung lifted his eyebrows at him, tilting his head.

“my mom is an ob-gyn doctor.”

I cant lie this caught me off guard and I laughed

“or another queen. i have two queens at home.” yujin filled in as you gave off a smile with the implication. but then the kids started to bicker with each other as you looked around the room once again.

This is such a subtle but cute inclusion. Also when all the kids either hugged her or asked questions??? Im soft. I also love how accommodating her friends are for her new diet. Also Hee seinding veggies :(((( like ikhes thinking of it as a rivalry but its so cute

“you gotta have to let us meet this (y/n) noona. i bet she’s pret-“

“go back to your place, riki-kun. jake’s calling for you.”

I giggled

“congratulations to you both!” she replied as she continued to move the transducer around, making you and heeseung realize that there’s a fetus inside you, but not just one.

“TWINS?!”

Oh. my. God. I speculated from the way the mc referred to them but having it confirmed is insane.

I love that their families are just happy??😭thats comforting

“we did the ultrasound two weeks ago. so it’s week 12 now.” heeseung cuts you off as she gazes back at her son.

May be bare minimum but its so cute that hes attentive.

“we have also discussed that (y/n) will try the normal route with water birth and if she can’t handle it, she’ll be going with cesarean. we could also do an appointment every two weeks as both of you are students now, but it is best if you come so you can understand each process as she is entering the second trimester.”

Seeing cesarean scares me <//3

pushing one side of your upper body, you cup onto heeseung’s cheek as he leans up to connect your lips. your shoulder is pushing down against the ground as heeseung’s grip on your hand tightens, making it steady as you can hear his muffled hum from your kiss. your fingers curl to hold yourself up better before you feel his other hand reach for your waist and push you down so you both lay on the side.

SCREAMING LISSIE HELLO

Loved part one! It was a lovely setup for part 2 i think (which im nervous for). Excited to see what part 2 brings!

part 1

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: 24198 (24.2k) out of 60550 (60.5k)

warning(s): pregnancy (what did you expect?), so many curse words!, description of explicit sex (in a flashback sense), rough sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, manhandling, vomiting, mention of drugs (marijuana, alcohol), mention of blood, dark humor (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.

first fic of 2024! i've ideated this since like 2022 and it's here what the heck!! this is part 1 of 2 of a 57k-58k word count one-shot (yes, this is supposed to be a one-shot) but tumblr hates me so i have to divide it into two. thanks for the 200+ notes on the teaser/character intro and i hope you enjoy it!

soundtrack (spoilers for part 2!) | part 2 | epilogue

prologue: a town called valentine

it was valentine 2002 when you and heeseung first met. well, if you consider babies who can’t even talk to each other will know of each other. you have to thank both of your moms for that—getting pregnant around the same time and giving birth in the same year as well.

but the earliest—vivid—memory you have of him was on valentine 2005. you hid behind your mama’s leg as she talked with someone: another adult. you glance around the outside space you’re in, the plants and pathway unknown to you as mama can see your eyes wander with your tiny mouth agape when you look past the other adult to recognize the widening door right beside them. you heard your mother giggling with the other person as they converse about something your 4-year-old mind wouldn’t be able to understand.

“(y/n) sweetie! say hi to auntie.” your mama caresses your hair with her hand as she guides you to stand beside her, her hands moving behind your small set of shoulders before you. the small hands reached for one of hers, holding it tight as you stood beside her.

“hello…” you looked up to meet a beautiful woman. her eyes are wide as they remind you of the mother deer you last saw when you watched bambi with mama and papa. and you can feel a ticklish feeling inside you as you watch her eyes smiling softly at you. as she smiles at you softly.

“hello (y/n)! you’ve grown so much since i last met you.” her hands give a wave, making you raise your hand up as you mirror her while you pick up your mama’s chuckle. the lady moves back, extending her arm as you see a clean hallway full of photos on one side and a cabinet full of shoes on the other. some of them looking similar to your own shoe size.

“please come inside. i’ve set the toys so she can play with them if she wants.” the lady—well, auntie—said as your mama guided you inside with her trailing behind. sitting on the hidden seating area by the cabinet, she helps you take off your shoes before opening her hands to let you hold them. she lets you walk in front as both of you enter a big room with a sofa in front of a television. as per told by mama every time you enter someone’s home: sit down beside mama or papa as you waited for the homeowner to guide you next. the back of the sofa is too tall for your height now and you let your hand graze against the side of the soft sofa when you encounter a large mat laid in between the sofa and the screen.

your brain tingles when you find a few toys you can name—like the ones you own back home—while a few of them you don’t recognize at all. eyes on the toys, you throw away whatever your mama has told you and tug her hand to let her know the existence of them. looking up, she looks down at you, glance at the pile of toys left behind, and gives nods, making you grin as you both sit on the playmat. your eyes immediately look at blocks stacked shaping like a house; its triangle roof, square walls, four windows, and door makes you easily imagine it. you crawl towards it and the box beside it, finding the other blocks left behind as you pull some of them out to make your own little house. as you slowly stack up the blocks—hearing the sound of wood tapping against each other—you heard the sound of giggling coming from behind the sofa.

“sorry, he just finished taking a bath.” auntie said to your mom who was behind you, walking closer to the sofa as you turned your head to face her. that’s when you see another person walking into the room with a small pitter-patter heard behind them. the steps are getting louder and louder as you see a small figure enter the room, walking towards the person laughing. the person wipes his face with his small hand before pausing, turning his head to you.

“hi heeseung!” you heard your mama say as the boy’s laugh slows down and he looks at you and your mama. auntie, who now looks more like the bigger version of the boy, steps in to help him move and sit down beside you. you see him crouch down as you can see his face clearer. yet, his eyes wander on the house made of blocks—his house—and the house you’re making; wider by one block than his.

“that’s (y/n). you were too young to remember but auntie and i always bring you two to playdates since you’re not even one year old. she’s the same age as you.” you heard auntie say as you felt your mama help you to scoot closer. his hand reaches for the box of blocks as you place the final block on your house while he’s pulling out more blocks. you look at the boy’s action as you feel mama, with her larger hand, holding onto your smaller one. your palm is now open as you see heeseung was told to do the same by his mom, putting away the blocks on the mat. your hands meet each other as you say your name. mama helps in closing your fingers, wrapping your hand in his as he follows.

“my name is (y/n).” the boy’s hand also uses the same force when you shake it. both women let go of their children’s hands as both of your little hands are floating, connected, and shaking. your eyes meet his as he looks back at the two houses made of blocks.

“my name is heeseung.” he smiles.

1. stay soft, silly

the way the corner of his mouth twitches makes you think outside of the plan you are executing now, nearly done in telling him what he needs to know.

“and they’re mine?” heeseung sounded. your eyebrows folded, looking down at the swollen part beneath your stomach as you pouted your lips, holding back your giggling as you glanced back at him.

“i haven’t had sex with anyone this past month besides you. so, yeah. the baby is yours.”

it’s funny, you see. with the amount of carefulness you and your friends have taught you of the college hook-up culture you got roped into, you never expected to hook up with your rival. yet tension does what tension does, and it snaps as you both stumbled to kiss each other.

when it comes to your “relationship” with heeseung, the closest to a positive one was when you were in kindergarten, as you’ve known him before by the amount of playdates both of your mothers set up.

little did they know that one time at a playground during one of those playdates, you were left alone to play with your sandcastles as heeseung ventured to play with the other boys, running around the sandpit playing tag and how you see the familiar little jeans pants walks in front of you, knocking the castle down and flying the specks of sand to your face with your slower reaction speed—because of your younger age—not making you close your eyelids quicker. your eyes watering as you wail out, getting the attention of your mama but not the jean-wearing boy’s attention as you hear his mom telling him to stop. apologizing is simple for your younger self, just a plain “sorry” is okay. but when lee heeseung—who you consider your friend at that time—said “sorry” with a grin on his face, you caught onto the impression that he was not sorry at all.

at age 7, you came back from the cafeteria to your class to find heeseung and his gang of boys pulling on a girl’s hair, the familiar sadness showing on her face as you caught her eyes. you’ve known that they’ve played “dirty” and have been teasing other girls in your class before—just not you, which is strange in itself. with a tense set of hands, you push the boys away with your might and stand in between them, helping the girl who cowers behind you. you look down to watch heeseung on the floor, teeth showing and face crunched as he sees the scratch from when you pushed him near his elbow.

“what was that for?”

“to stop you. she doesn’t like it.”

one of his boys helps to pick him up on his feet as you can see him limping. your arms still wide as you protect the girl as best as you can. he pushes his sweaty bangs off his face as you can define the same gaze he had given you when you were 5 at the playground, now fiery. and you exude the same thing with your glare as you see the other boys helping carry him out to the nurse's office, his eyes staying on yours as you feel the girl’s hand holding you back from not walking after him again.

stickers become score markers as you and he tried to compete to get the most out of them, which comes with being nice and clever during classes. you were 10 when you had the same class as him once again, having to compete to be the quickest when raising your hands. but also the lowly giggles you give each other as you both realize just how wrong each other’s answers that comes with the teasing annoyance. it also comes in gym class as the teacher divided you up into different teams during team games—basketball being the most competitive as you are familiar with it. heeseung doesn’t hesitate to run towards you if you have a ball and try to dribble it across the court, pulling it as you try to pass it to your teammate, resulting in a tug-of-war where you both just don’t want to let it go. even with the whistling from the teacher as one teammate gets a hold of it to continue the game, you instead continue to have a screaming match with him.

it continues through middle school as you remember him not hesitating with his power to slam his dodgeball at your stomach during another gym class, making you curl up on the floor as your friends help you to the nurse's office, hearing him screaming “that’s what you get from stealing my lunch” as you remembered the taste of the chocolate bread you pick up from his tray yesterday. at high school as you and him argue in front of the vice principal about each of your club’s fundings, him with his basketball club who is already so successful with their winnings money that they can’t seem to let go to help other clubs who are staying afloat. even with your school having pride in the basketball team and other sports club achievements—making it a staple for the students to watch at least one game during their high school years. you never went to one as you rather babysit your neighbor’s kid for money than watch heeseung’s smug smile as he won another mvp trophy for that tournament.

when college came and you got into hybe uni as a business major, you didn’t expect to see heeseung on campus. you’ve known that since he focuses more on basketball in middle school, you are winning when it comes to academics. but when his smirking face tells you he got into hybe with a full scholarship because of basketball, your heart plummets into the fathoms. you were glad that he’s not in the same faculty as you, but the college environment is so small that your acquaintances recognize each other. you can’t seem to stay away from him who still has his smart for balancing his gpa and non-academic activities.

so when your lips met his own as you sobered up after having the party busted by the police, your mind is telling you to out-better him in lust and pleasure.

“who can make each other cum the most? never thought of you as that filthy, (l/n)”

the grip of his hair on your hand tightens as he trails his own to get a grip of yours. both of your heads now straight as you can’t look away from each other even if you want to.

“i take that you’re saying that because you don’t know how to make girls cum with your dick, lee.” you chuckled. heeseung’s gaze is still meeting yours as he pushes your head forward, making your forehead touch his as he mumbles something only you can hear.

“i know i can make you cum on my dick just by the way you’re clenching your thighs, baby. how do we tally the score?”

“start a kiss on the lips when you know you can’t hold back?”

“deal.”

“by the way, who won?” heeseung asked, leaning his body forward on the table as you peer down at his position from you, holding yourself as you stretch your back to help with the pain.

“how many times did you cum? and don’t fucking lie.”

heeseung’s bed is rocking beneath you as he folds you up in half, your knees on either side of you as he pounds into you. gasps fall out of your mouth as you pull on his hair, something you realize he likes after the amount of groan coming out of him from when you tug him. praises come out of your mouth as you try every method you can to turn him on first; to make him cum first. but the way he is pushing down on your abdomen makes you clench harder.

“look at how you’re clenching onto me. you’re close, aren’t you?” he whispered as you felt the breeze blowing onto your saliva-stained neck you are certain had hickeys on it. heeseung had to remind himself that he couldn’t kiss your lips, no matter how delectable they were, changing to kissing your neck.

“n-“ you moan as heeseung’s hand traces down to grip your ribcage, pulling you closer to him so he could find another angle to reach you deeper, pleasuring you both in return. “no.”

“don’t lie to me, (y/n).” his head pulls back from your crook as you watch his bangs faltering from the hard pounding to his mattress. “god, you’re so fucking hot when you’re under me.”

“fuck, just like that.” you retaliate with your own dirty talk, hands holding his waist so he could stay longer in your cavern as you grip him. but when you sense his breath against your skin, nose upon nose touching, the grip on his waist trails up as you cup his face. nodding your head as you feel him getting faster, you pull his head down and make his lips meet yours. you bit your bottom lip as your muffled moans vibrated between the two of you. your body giving up for a moment as he continued to thrust into you, making you let go as you let out a silent scream when you felt the moist gushing against him inside you. heeseung’s lips are unhesitant to kiss between your eyebrows as your body calms down from shaking, eyes rolling back to their original place as you continue to caress his cheekbone before a surge of energy comes back to you. you push him to the side, placing him down on the mattress as your hands grab both of his wrists to rest beside his head.

“i can feel you twitching inside me, hee. i know you’re close,” you said as you bounce on his lap, feeling the way your essence fell out and how much slick is on his penis because of you. as you have the upper hand, you decide to tease him by falling on him slower than the pace you have familiarized, making his wrists flinched under your hold as you click your tongue.

“you like how my walls are sucking you?”

“fuck, yes,” he mumbled under his breath.

“yeah..?” you replied as you leaned forward, making heeseung reach up to kiss your areola as best as he could.

“come on. you don’t wanna cum again?” heeseung asked in such a whiny voice that makes you snicker at how needy he has become. you decide to continue your teasing when you trail your nose along his face as you give a tiny kiss underneath his earlobe where you see the hickey you made on his clavicle. you move your hips so slowly as you feel how he becomes more erect even when he’s inside you.

“you’re the one who denies it yourself. i’m currently helping you here.” you poke your tongue and trace down his adam’s apple to his chest, reaching his nipple and giving it a suck. heeseung’s hip shoots up into you as he wants to take control. your hand moving closer to his palm with the grip that is getting loose as he pushes both his arms to let go of your hold. yet, you pull them back up as you reposition your fingers to interlock with his, withholding what he wants to make you move faster as he thrusts up into you.

you stare at how his doe-like eyes are begging for you after the number of times you have hated and feared the same eyes. how it glistens with tears because of how uncooperative you are even with your pace getting faster. with that, you lean forward as you stretch his hands and place them on your moving hips, letting them go so he can grip it hard as he tries to chase that feeling once again. you drape yourself above him as his blown-out eyes stare right at yours, his orange fiery flame meeting your own blue.

leaning forward more as you sensed one of his hands resting on your back, you brush away his hair that is sticking on his forehead as you whispered the death blow.

“you can cum in me-“

he leans up to connect your lips with his as you understand the signal, making your hips help to stimulate him more. his tongue flicking out and even wetting the skin around your lips as he moans out your name, letting out an exhale as your forehead is on his.

“want to breed you…” he whispered as you nodded, knowing just how much you like cum staining your walls as you give him a peck.

“breed me then.”

as he spoke to you about when he cums in your walls cowgirl style, you couldn’t help but snicker at the memories of his newly known breeding kink and your own creampie kink makes the resulting bun in your oven, making him flick your hand as you stare at him.

“that’s one for you and one for me- what are you thinking?” the way his voice pitches up at the end of the question makes you giggle even more.

“i swear-“ you lean forward as you realize the stage you are in, “the way our kinks create them,” you point down to your stomach.

“with the way your body shivers when i cum in you,” he said as he also leans forward. “i knew you like it. but i didn’t realize how feral you got because of that.”

“how feral we got, heeseung. fucking correct that.”

“oh fuck!” you moaned out into the mattress as heeseung held your hips up when he thrusts back into you from behind. you can sense how every time he pounds into you, his release is coming out alongside him as the wet clapping noises penetrate even the sound of both the cricketing bed frame and both of your moans. his hand goes up to your head and pulls your hair as the other pushes against your stomach, making you bend back towards him as the moans you let out of your mouth are clearer. his lips sucking another hickey onto your shoulder as you lean your head back on him to widen his access. your hands gripping onto both of the hands that are now resting on your abdomen and one on your breast, respectively.

“who can make you feel like this?” the question triggering you right away.

“y-you.”

“say my name, baby,” he said as he kissed your cheeks, making you turn your head towards the side as you opened your eyes to meet his, continuing to pleasure you into oblivion.

“heeseung…”

“go on.” he squeezed your flesh and you bit your bottom lip.

“heeseung!”

the hand on your abdomen leaves to crawl to your nub as your free hand reaches up to his nape, letting you connect your lips with his as best as you can. your body doing gymnastics before it is overcome by your second wave of cum when heeseung stops and twist your upper body to connect both of your lips fully. with his hands enveloping you, you push both of your body down as you let him spoon you.

grinding your hips against him, you reached down to gather both your cums as you give it a lick, making heeseung groan as he helps you push against him. “fuck, (y/n), how are you still so tight?”

“only for you-“ you reply as you shift away, just wanting to kiss heeseung, but then you remember the rules. with your shoulder, you push heeseung so he lays back on the bed as you lie on top of him. your knees folding so you can put your heels on the mattress as you lift yourself up and down on his shaft. you push your hands against is so you can sit and let you see the messiness yourself: both of your thighs are now covered in whiteness as you continue, realizing how sticky your skins are against each other. instead of letting you observe the messiness, heeseung pulls your upper body back to his as he also folds his knees and pushes his heels to the bed, thrusting upwards and making the pace quicker.

both of your moans combine with each other as he rests his arms around your midriff so you can’t move away from him. your head tilts to look behind you at the way heeseung is closing his eyes. as the point of your nose touches his skin, he doesn’t hesitate to turn to you and brought your lips onto his as he gives a few sputtering thrusts before you felt him cumming in you once again, making you fuller than ever.

“and that’s another two for each of us,” you replied as heeseung let out a snicker.

“still a tie, huh?”

“yeah, but we decided on a tiebreaker, right?” he responded with a hum.

with how sweaty, sticky, and tired you both are, you decide to do a tiebreaker with you sitting on his lap in a lotus position. your breath meeting his as both of you work in tandem (with a little burst exerted once in a while) to make any of you cum first and declare to be the winner of this messed-up game you made. heeseung licks the skin below your neck and plays with your breasts as you let your fingers experiment with his nipples and the way your nails scratch against his back muscles. you know that both of you are exhausted because the only sound that comes out is the small moans and whines left over. you looked down to see the messy environment you made between both of your crotches, making you scoop it up as you lift your cum-covered forefinger to your mouth, sucking it in, before pulling heeseung’s head so you can let him taste both of you.

his wide eyes glance up at you as he puts on a show to make you turn on more, swirling his tongue around your middle finger as the hand that was holding your shoulder blade reaches to your face, making his thumb pressing against your bottom lip so you can suck it. your hips grind on him faster, bouncing a few times, as both of your moans are muffled by both of your fingers. pulling your finger back, a string of saliva connected it and his lips as you cup his cheek. heeseung bites his lip as he pulls the thumb out to see your swollen lips. as you stare at each other—thinking back to the past few hours that have gotten you here in this position—you sense something strange within you. something so unfamiliar when you stare at him than the other moments you blatantly glare towards him. with the way he glances around your face as he connects your forehead with his, you recognize he might have sensed the same things too.

you don’t remember who is the first one to reach out, but as both of your lips connect, you let yourself envelop him as he did you. both of you not stopping and helping each other out as both of you cum in quick succession. not letting go of each other’s lips as you both pull away slowly; looking at the string of saliva connecting both of you as you stare at each other.

“we don’t need to discuss that.”

“no, we don’t,”

both of you replied right after the other as you see heeseung looking away from you to glance at the window beside the table. you glance at the condensation forming on the glass of his americano before glimpsing towards the booth where he sat. a duffle bag beside his backpack; you guess it will be for his basketball practice, it is near the college basketball season after all. but as you glance up at the man himself—you notice how different he has been since you were children. the way he muscled up and the baby fat on his face sheds away from the amount of sports he has to consume weekly. but, with all the invisible scars you both inflicted on each other from then until now, you weigh in just how ridiculously complex your relationship is that you don’t know if he wants to agree with it or not.

“well, now that you know…” you started, rubbing your hand against your sweater paws, “you don’t have to contribute to their life.”

heeseung hums, turning back to look towards you with confusion written on his face.

“it’s okay if you don’t want to get involved in taking care of them. it’s hard enough to be a senior-year college student, let alone raising a baby. it’s my choice to keep them, so i have to take responsibility for that.” you grabbed the now lukewarm cup of tea as you take a sip from it, placing it gently on the small plate as you continued with, “especially knowing how complicated we are.” you use your forefinger to point between him and you.

the man’s face is hard to read. he jutted his lips, biting the inside of his cheek as you see him blink whilst looking towards you, trying to get a read on you as well. being 8 weeks pregnant, you just wanted the meeting to end because you have all the other things you need to organize: telling the girls about your pregnancy diets and symptoms, telling the university about them and maybe they could give you leeway with the tests and studies, setting up appointments for with the ob-gyn and the doula of your choice, and telling your parents.

your parents who knew heeseung’s parents.

this will be awkward as fuck to experience.

“and i wish we could have a truce for the next 40 weeks.” you said, already with an exasperated voice that seemed to even surprise heeseung. “with this lifelong rivalry going on and how both of us doesn’t even want it to stop, please just… give me a slack to take care of them as best as i could.”

when you expected heeseung to reply with an okay—knowing your status as an expecting mother to at least give you some slack—you were met with a piercing gaze instead. how he looks between your face and your hidden stomach behind the table. he rests his hand on the table when you watch him considering something, and you didn’t even fucking guess he will do what he does.

“no.”

“what?”

“no. there’s no truce.” he leans forward, recognizing the gaze in his eyes as you just want to punch it out of his face for even thinking about what he’s thinking.

“no fucking way you’re thinking about this.”

“why not, (y/n)? think you can’t take care of yourself enough for the baby?”

“how? they’re in me, heeseung.”

“by giving them good nutritious food, interacting with them, i don’t know. but i know from knowing you for years that you can’t take care of yourself, knowing you have three other roommates-“

“you also have three other fucking roommates. sheesh.” you shake your head as you lean back. “anything for the baby has to go through me first, you know? i can deny it if i want.”

“then we can argue who’s right. they’re my baby too and i have the right to be involved even if you don’t want to.” your phone vibrates after heeseung’s brash reply as you see the silent alarm of your next schedule of the day. you tug the strap of your bag to your shoulder and gulp the rest of your tea.

“whatever, i have another thing to do.”

“does it involve the baby?”

“no. unless you wanna join my research class.”

you stood up from the booth as you straightened your sweater down, making heeseung glance at your abdomen before looking back at your face. “just so you remember: i’m doing this for the baby, not you.”

rolling your eyes, you flip him the bird as you walk away from him to your only class of the day, making heeseung let out a strangled smile.

“what the- what do you mean?”

the game continues as the other three guys look towards heeseung who is obliterating them with his king dedede, the sound of the fighting comes from the tv of their living room apartment as his fingers nimbly move on the switch controller, making the other three characters fly from the platforms as the familiar “game!” announcement calls.

the boys are sitting in various ways; beomgyu and jeongin are on the floor and jimin is beside him. the soundtrack of the super smash bros ultimate is playing in the background as heeseung smiles.

“i’m gonna be a dad.”

jeongin, the closest to the main port of the switch, quits the game as beomgyu lets out another loud shout—outside of the game—and jimin, who is sitting besides him, shakes his body with outstretched arms.

“BROOO!” beomgyu rubs his hand across his long hair as he faces heeseung fully, who is regretting not recording the reaction of his best buddies about this.

“how does heeseung, who doesn’t even like hooking up, get someone pregnant?” jimin asks to himself but also to the others as jeongin now stands in front of him, shielding the tv from his sight.

“forget that. who did you knock up, lee heeseung?” jeongin cuts through as heeseung leans back against the headrest of the couch. a mix of expressions showing on his face cause he doesn’t know if he has to laugh, be angry, be sad, or what else. he lets out a sigh as he picks the right voice tone to tell them.

“it’s fucking (y/n).”

“okay, now hold on!”

jeongin jumps, shedding the stern aura that he just created a few seconds ago. heeseung glances down at beomgyu who has his jaw dropped with jimin gripping on heeseung’s shoulder very hard.

“SINCE WHEN DID YOU TWO HOOK U-“

“shush!” jimin stands up and covers his hand on jeongin’s mouth, not wanting another complaint from the neighbors both horizontally and vertically.

“when?” beomgyu asked jeongin’s questions concisely as heeseung glanced towards the sofa and the kitchen right beside the front door of their apartment.

“you remember the party that got busted by the police?”

“yoon keeho’s party?”

“yeah, that one.” jimin acknowledges beomgyu’s answer as heeseung continues.

“long story short, (y/n) was alone and i went past her, teasing her for seeing that her friends left her behind when the police showed. she was tipsy which she shows by how easily stumbles. so i dragged her with me to our apartment when we escaped. i don’t know where you guys were, but she’s gotten a bit too annoying so i have to sober her up. we talked, and the tension was just too…” heeseung remembers as he was the one reaching for your face, to tell you to shut the fuck up, but the tension melted away before both of you proposes the game that you did. “so, we did it. and she asked me to meet up this morning and told me the news.”

“and what are your thoughts?” jimin asks, making the high-stakes emotions lower as he lets his friend talk about what he is feeling.

well, for heeseung, shock was an understatement. when he heard you utter the three words to him as he asked you what makes you want to meet up, never did he expect that to come out. surely, he has a breeding kink, and he had expected that to happen. but you told him you’re leaving early to get a plan b pill. maybe it didn’t work, but he doesn’t want to assume much about your body. then, he can sense the hidden sheer happiness blossoming within him. he wanted to smile and give you a hug, but then he remembered that it was you. that outside of his bed that night, you didn’t see him as a friend.

for someone who doesn’t hook up with people, heeseung knows how the hook-up culture works. he had heard multiple women fucking his three roommates from within his room and he could use his noise-canceling headphones against them. people might presume he is picky—a basketball jock who stays hidden and doesn’t want to hook up with anyone unlike his younger teammates—but the level of comfort is different when he has to do it with someone he doesn’t know and that’s why he rather stayed away. you? well, you are an anomaly.

though close because of your upbringing, he doesn’t know you outside of what he knows. that you were the kid who broke his truck even after he said sorry for ruining your sandcastle at that playground. that you were the kid who pushed him to the floor back when you were 7. that you’re the girl who he competes with to get the most stickers and not letting go of the basketball even though he stole it from you correctly. that he saw you stealing the bread from his tray as he came back from the vending machine. that you were the one telling the vice principal his basketball club doesn’t need as much money as they do because of their successful run, not knowing that their assistant coach stole the winning money.

so when you decide to create walls from your words, try to spin it so he doesn’t have to care about his baby, he had to say no. it’s as if you’re trying to keep the baby to yourself and not letting him in even though it takes two to tango. so, he found the most relevant way: competing for who takes care of that baby the right way—even if they’re in you. he doesn’t even think far from that thought no matter how ridiculous it is as now he realizes what a logistical nightmare it’s going to be.

“you’re making a game out of taking care of your own child but not your baby mama?” jeongin questioned after hearing heeseung’s rambling about this.

“yup…” heeseung paused, a pregnant pause. “and i need all of your help.”

jimin’s face changes as he hears the way heeseung described his face, rubbing his palm against the creases forming on his forehead as he can’t comprehend how beomgyu easily accepts his role. jimin’s head perks up at heeseung calling his name.

“yo!” jimin replied.

“since you’re the only one out of us who has a direct connection to (y/n) through chaeryeong, you’ll be my eyes, okay? asked about (y/n), how she’s doing, and all that stuff.” heeseung nodded as he expectantly looked at the boy who stood beside jeongin.

“gotcha,” he replied, his eyes wide as heeseung turned towards jeongin.

“innie, you’re my source. find any article about pregnancy and what my role is gonna be as a dad. yadda yadda yadda. all that stu-“

“i do you one better, seung.” jeongin said as heeseung lifted his eyebrows at him, tilting his head.

“my mom is an ob-gyn doctor.”

“miss (y/n)!”

“wear this!”

there is sounds of pitter-patters all around you as you sense the weight getting heavier on your figure. a small cape hanging off your shoulders and a crooked crown on your head, you sit down cross-legged against a round table full of toy food and kitchen utensils. girls and boys alike sit on the chairs by the table with their own capes and crowns, playing around with their cups as they all have a tea party—with the other side of the room playing with legos.

“here is your tea and cake.” you see the girl beside you giving the plate of rubber cake and an empty tea cup.

“thank you, princess rami.” picking up the teacup into your hand, you let out a loud slurping noise to drink it, before flinching away as you fan your tongue.

“i’m so sorry. is it too hot?” rami asked as you shook your head.

“i’m okay. thank you for asking,” you replied as best as you could.

“you must be careful, princess rami.” the boy across from her spoke as you tilt your head to him.

“i’m alright. prince yujin. i will be more careful with the tea.” he gave out a smile as one girl called out.

“if we are all princes and princesses, how should we call miss (y/n)?” hyunseo asked across from you.

“well, miss (y/n) should be a queen!” woonhak replied enthusiastically.

“but if miss (y/n) is a queen, should she have a king?” hyunseo continued.

as you entered high school, you were determined to beat heeseung in another way other than school-related activities. and what other way by being independent and richer than him at a young age? so you raked your head of a simple work that can help you gain more pocket money when one of your aunts asks you if you can babysit their daughter and how she will pay you. seizing the opportunity, you get to take care of your baby cousin as you go to your aunt’s home to help her with her food and stuff. hearing your enjoyment by the dining room table, your mom suggests more opportunities to babysit children of your family members from both sides—to your youngest uncle’s 4-year-old son and your oldest cousin’s 6-month-old baby—you have an array of skills gotten from doing childcare as your mom recommend you to babysit her juniors’ children at work, making you who wanted it for the money now wants it for the children.

it needs a certain level of charisma to charm a child so they can listen to you and with the array of children you had to babysit, you’ve met and adapted as best as you can to all of them. from being the calm tutor for a baby who is training his motor skills to help a child practice balancing on a bicycle, you understand what a child wants under their tantrums. that love you give and the love you accept makes you want to contribute more to childcare. so you started volunteering in non-formal schools and orphanages, helping to at least make their days a little better. and that’s why you worked part-time as a daycare attendant since you entered university as it is a more established institution where you can shuffle your study schedule alongside your work schedule, meeting kids who are being sent here that are still younger than school age. it reminded you of your own childhood and you’re hoping that your inner child could be happy and satisfied that you let her feel that feeling again.

“guys…” your spoken voice cuts their conversations, and they all turn to you. “a queen doesn’t have to have a king or another queen by their side. a queen can stand alone too.”

“but wouldn’t that make the queen lonely?” rami questioned, making you pout your lips as you still can’t comprehend just how blatantly honest children are that it pierces through each layer of your heart to find the right spot.

“yes, the queen will be lonely. but she also has her princes, princesses, knights, counselors, and more around her. love doesn’t always come from one person, it can also come from a group.” you replied, making the group rowdy up as they converse about love and being independent—well, ‘lonely’ as they called it—when you feel a light pat on your shoulder.

turning your head, you see a younger girl other than those around the table holding a paper, stretching it towards you.

“for you, miss (y/n)…”

you slowly pick the paper from her small hands as you observe the drawing. a simple figure made of circles and triangles with different colors. a pink filled-in shape on one side of the triangle with the circle-shaped and another taller one holding the figures hand, a yellow crown-shaped drawing on top of a circle with a smiling face inside.

she drew you.

“awww. this is so sweet and nice.” you return to look at the younger girl, a warm smile showing on your face, “thank you, hyein.” you rub your hand on her hair—something you remember she likes—as her smile widens before she runs away towards her table, where she has a few more papers scattered.

you glance at her before looking at your own stomach, unconsciously rubbing it as you can feel your own child inside you now growing along with time. then, it all came so suddenly when you felt yourself regurgitating, hand coming up to your mouth as you stood up as fast as you could towards the staff bathroom. knocking open the door of the open stall, you kneeled down as you puke out your lunch for today, feeling your gag reflexes kicking in. you sensed a hand soothing down your back as you reached for the flush to drain it down the toilet bowl.

“you okay, (y/n)?” you hear the familiar voice of your supervisor, yoonah, behind you. nodding your head, you reach for the toilet paper and tear it apart as you wipe the remains and saliva off your lips. reaching for the crown that fortunately doesn’t fall when you puke your inside, you hold on to it as you stand up and veer around to the sink to clean your mouth, gargling and spitting out as you wipe the droplets of water from your lips.

“how is it going with the pregnancy?” she asked as you watched her reflection behind yours in the mirror. you nodded your head and chuckled.

“didn’t vomit for the past three days and i thought that was enough, and well, here i am.” you stare at your face, seeing your eyes glistening with tears with the number of times you had to cough out until your phlegm came out. you turn your head to face your boss as she gives you a solemn smile.

“so, i have already talked to hr and we agree to have you reduce your work day to just one per week. you can enter anytime between the weekdays depending on your schedule because you have lots of things to juggle with your ob-gyn appointment. we don’t want to weigh you down more.”

you looked sideways when yoonah didn’t seem to see you being glad of it. though it helps with not exerting your body—as per doctor park’s request—it will definitely reduce your money because of the appointments and others. you haven’t told your parents yet and maybe you can ask them for more money after but with the way your friends have already helped ease your part of the rent so you have enough money for your own diet and consultations; you don’t want them to provide more for you.

“that’s great and all, but what about my pay? can it be adjusted? it doesn’t have to be 200%. like, do I only work one day for a pay of two like usual? or is it the regular one day pay? if it’s the latter, maybe a 25% increase will be great? for the consultations and others…” you said, not realizing that you had a few stray tears leaving out your eyes. nice fucking job, hormones.

yoonah picks up the crown from your head and she places it above your head, straightening it up as it rests right at the top of your head, “i will take about it to hr. you know that i’m on your side with this.” she pats your shoulder as you let out a faint “thank you” and see her walking away out of the bathroom. you brushed the tears away as you wet your hands to help unswollen them, even if it is for a bit. staring at yourself in the mirror, you pull your body up straight as you turn sideways, rubbing your abdomen as you can feel the life being put into you; piece by piece, cell by cell, forming into a human being.

as your feet enter the room one by one, tons of footsteps greet you as you look down to see the crown-wearing kids you are playing tea time with approaching you. their faces showing weariness so explicitly that you feel your heart tugging at them.

“are you ok, miss (y/n)?” hyein—the first one to be there—spoke as she was surrounded by kids taller and older than her. you notice someone holding onto your hand with their tiny one, seeing rami brushing the skin as you feel soothed.

“i am now. thank you, hyein,” you replied, letting your body fall as you kneeled before them, seeing the number of children you have taken care of for the years you had worked here. in your mind, it seemed ridiculous to think of your next move, but in a way that they have taught you so much about taking care of others, it’s proper to tell them yourself.

wiping the corner of your eyes as you feel your hormones acting up again, you speak, “what do you know about your moms?”

“mommy is very sweet to me,” hyunseo replies as she steps forward to stand next to hyein, their height difference looking so cute.

“mom is the one that picked me up from here.” woonhak also replied when you can see his mom’s smile on his own from the number of times she picked him up and showed that same smile.

“both of my mamas are the best in taking care of me and my brothers.” yujin added as there were more children rambling about their mothers, creating a wall of cacophony that seemed more like the background noise you heard each week as you worked. their voices dwindled as you looked expectantly at them one by one, a smile urging them to wait for something to come out of you.

“well, you see, i’m going to be just like your moms.”

yujin was the one that caught on first as he stepped closer and hugged you. while the others still looked confused, he turned around to looked at them and state it himself.

“MISS (Y/N) IS GOING TO BE A MOM!”

“miss (y/n)!”

“no wa-“

you heard the surge of children hugging you as you laughed out loud, seeing yoonah by the door as she also followed your laughter while you were surrounded by the children who were either hugging you or asking you questions.

“settle down, children. miss (y/n) needs a space to take a breather.” yoonah spoke up as she approached you who has a grin on your face.

“you said that you don’t have any king or queen?” yujin said as you felt your cheeks getting warmer, he now held onto the crown that slipped down your head from the number of kids that is surrounding you. while you could feel a hand on your stomach as you looked down to see hyein sitting down—remembering that she also has a pregnant mother with a little sibling on the way for her.

“it, it will be hard for me to explain it to you, but…” you felt yoonah’s hand on your shoulder as you glance at the closest clock in the room—finding the time for them to go home has come. “your moms are waiting for you to go home.”

you push yourself up to stand as yoonah guides the kids to pick their items up by the cabinets as you stand up straight, seeing the children walking around you when you see rami stepping beside you, arms wide open as you crouch down to give her a hug. you felt other sets of arms surrounding you as you giggled, pulling away your arms as the children noticed it.

“i’ll see you all next week!” you stated as yoonah brought all of them to the door of the daycare before opening them, seeing all of them going to their respective parents and guardians as a few of them acknowledged you. you turned around as you started your usual clean-up process, picking up the drawings that the children made and putting them in their own folders so you can give them to their guardians when they graduated, putting back the toys into the boxes, returning the costumes back to the wardrobe as you place the robe and crown you were also wearing, and you wanted to do one more thing, but you heard someone clearing their throat.

“i’ll clean the furniture and floor. you have done so much and you needed to eat and rest.” yoonah told you as you sighed, knowing that you seemed to be hungrier after you vomited out your food.

“thanks, boss.” you winked as she chuckled, bringing yourself to the staff room with the drawing that hyein gave to you—pinning in your mind to collect it with the drawings the kids you’ve taken care has made for you.

when collecting your things into your backpack, you glance at the paper that you printed out from your laptop as you scan the words, seeing your inked signature on the bottom as you see the blank space with the name right across from yours. heeseung’s name.

since he decided to be involved—you remembered while you talked to your faculty about your pregnancy and how they asked who the dad was, you decided to bring him up as a “student from another faculty.” it might make him think twice if he wants to be involved or not because he will get his name pin up on a note somewhere, which will be noted to his coach, lecturers, and more of his status. you are ready to be mentally burnt by the judgment your peers might give you, but is heeseung also ready?

you haven’t thought of the way you’re going to give heeseung the letter when you see minjeong’s name from your vibrating phone as you pick up the things you are bringing home and you hear yoonah talking as she sees you already leaving.

“carpool picking you up?”

“yeah, my roommate and her boyfriend.”

“okay, take care of yourself and i’ll follow up with your request.” you felt yoonah giving you a side hug as you gave a smile and wave when you pushed the door open. you breathed in the outside air to see the dark gray chevrolet camaro parked near the front of the building. walking to the back seats, you opened the door to be met with the music playing as minjeong greeted you.

“how’s work, (y/n)?” she instantly asked as sungchan lurched the car to a drive when you glanced at the bags of things beside you.

“freaking embarrassing. i vomited suddenly when i hadn’t vomited for the last 3 days but the kids reacted to it pretty okay. and i told them i’m gonna be a mom.”

“that’s so sweet!” she said, glancing back from her seat in front of you as she reached to touch you, making you sit in the middle with the console right in front of you as you see sungchan’s playing with the volume of bluetooth-connected car radio play the song that sounds so minjeong—which you can recognized right away.

“what did you guys do today?” you wiggled your eyebrows as you heard sungchan’s laugh from the way he looked at you from the rear-view mirror.

“you know what me and jeongie usually do, eat, shop, fuck, repeat-“

“no, we didn’t fuck today-“

“we did a quickie before we left to pick (y/n) up, winter.”

“okay! ughhh…” minjeong said, rubbing her face in embarrassment before replying, “i brought him to this cafe that has all these criterion collections that aren’t available on any of the streaming services we own. so i bought so many dvds for us to watch.”

“which are?”

“older movies, foreign movies. you did say that you enjoyed watching japanese movies, so i bought some of them for us to watch.”

“fuck, i love you so much for that, kim minjeong.” you replied as you heard sungchan’s little tsk, making you both giggle as his possessiveness is showing at the most ridiculous time.

“so, (y/n),” you hummed to sungchan’s starter words, “you haven’t told me who is your baby daddy.”

“guess!” you tugged yourself forward as your face was between their seats.

“how should i guess when i never see you hook up with people?” he replies as you glance at minjeong who is just watching him, an amused smile on her face.

“what if i say it’s song eunseok,” you mentioned his fellow frat bros.

“eunseok is dating that junior of his he has classes with. and he’s a loyal guy so i don’t think so.”

“what about park jisung? he’s hot in my eyes.”

“you don’t seem to be the kind to hook up with your junior,” he replied, making you squint your eyes.

“zhong chenle? he’s a fellow biz major like i do.”

“you’re definitely not his style.”

“now, that’s rude.” you hunch yourself back on the back seat as minjeong’s giggles compete with the music playing.

“you’re gonna be so shocked if we told you who he is.” she added as you nodded along, “two hints though: he’s our age and he’s a fellow jock-“

“that’s too much, jeong-ah.” you cover her mouth as her muffled nagging rings in the car. you can feel her lapping your palm, tickling your nerves and making you pull away as it’s now sungchan’s turn to have a giggling fit while watching his girlfriend and her roommate bickering. the trip was close between the daycare you work and the apartment tower you rented off-campus—but since you’ve mentioned to your roommates that you’ve been having back pain and vomiting sessions, they decided to help you out by being by your side as they drop you off or picking you up—just like what chaeryeong did as she drop you off to work before going to the dance studio.

so, when you stare out to see the small lobby of your apartment, you’re already with your backpack tucked to you as you open the door of the backseats. sungchan helped widen the door for you before going to the other side to help minjeong with the things she bought from their date. as you stood by the tiled floor of the lobby, minjeong gave sungchan one last kiss on the lips as you heard him say, “bye, babe! bye, (y/n) and hope you rest!”

“see you next week, baby.” the girl said as both you and her are waving your hands at the boy, who has entered the car driving off into the ending sunset of today. stepping inside the entrance of the apartment, you and she enter the empty elevator as you catch a glimpse at what other things minjeong had bought when you see a box from a chicken fast food brand, making your mouth water as you think about it, but you knew that you’ll be nag by dr. park for eating junk food.

pushing the handle after you put the pin on the keypad, you enter and instantly kick your shoes off as you are met with ryujin who is tying her hair up, walking towards you as she helps with minjeong’s bags. the apartment was left as you remembered this morning: a few scattered papers from either you or ryujin’s homework, the weighted blanket by the sofa now folded, and the smell of hot choco on the coffee table alongside ryujin’s laptop as you remembered that she only has online classes today.

“what did you bring?” ryujin wiggled her eyebrows as she rummaged open the bag that you’d seen when she instantly brought it to the kitchen counter when you saw her already cooking something. out of all four of you, you and ryujin are the ones talented in cooking so it’s not a surprise to see her cook for herself, but when you see the large plate that is places beside where the stove is, you know she has been making dinner for all four of you—as only chaeryeong’s the one who is not finished with her work today.

“why did you bring back fast food, minjeong? we promised to also have (y/n)’s diet.”

“that’s my leftover. chan said that the boys had too much stuff in their fridge so i brought it to us.” you then felt minjeong’s hand behind your lower back as she stood beside you, “hope you are okay with that.”

“of course, i’m okay.” you give minjeong a smile. “all of you aren’t obliged to follow my diet cause i know you love red meat, jinnie.”

“it feels wrong if i don’t follow you, though.” ryujin replied as you and minjeong go to your separate ways—she walked to her room while you stepped into the kitchen to see the food that minjeong brought. the chicken was a leftover but you also see her bringing back different meats and seafood.

“i almost forgot to ask you, but can you give me the list of the food that you can and can’t eat? just so i can help with the recipes and so we can pre-made food.” ryujin said as she put her arms behind your back, soothing you as you viewed her making japchae and beef on the pan.

“will do, ryu.” you give her a salute as she gives your cheek a squeeze before you let her be. taking your bag handle as you step towards the direction of your room, the bell of your apartment rings as ryujin turns towards you, making both of you tilt your head as you volunteer to get to the intercom.

when you press the button, the screen shows you someone you don’t expect to see as you can recognize the wolf cut hair you’ve seen while scrolling on your instagram. your footsteps immediately go to the door as you hear the ringing “hello”s from the intercom, opening it up to see the boy you’re trying your best to mask your feelings for with a box.

“heyya, (y/n)!” he replied as you widened the door to gaze at the box.

“h-hi beomgyu.” you give him a small smile as you try your best not to lock your eyes on him. to be having a crush on a boy like him is ridiculous, especially knowing that he is your RIVAL’s best friend. and the fact that you still have a crush on him since high school to then be found being in the same uni as him. if he doesn’t have heeseung by his side, you know you will brace yourself to approach him first. but now with his success as an indie musician, you know you are probably in a losing battle knowing just how spicy heeseung talks about you knowing that he has so many fans aiming at him and how you can’t compete with them—not as much as yeonjun though.

“wha, what’s this?”

“it’s for you.” he pushed the box towards you as you tried to peek inside when you felt a presence behind you.

“let me get that.” another pair of hands open by your side and you see the smirk on beomgyu’s face falter to see ryujin pulling the box against her.

“hi ryujin,” he said, a slight tremble in his voice as you finally be able to look at him with your heart eyes before back at ryujin.

“beomgyu,” she replied before leaving the door to put the box away. you eye the boy who is staring at the empty space for a few seconds too late before you are back in his attention, returning to the cheeky smile you adore.

“thank you for that!” you felt your palms getting sweatier than ever, rubbing one of them against the door to dry it.

“you gotta have to thank heeseung for that.”

the way beomgyu named he-who-shall-not-be-named shutters your fantasy as you were met with the reality. of course, it’s from heeseung, not from the boy you had a crush on—even if it means that the baby daddy trusts his best friend so much to tell him that he is having a baby with his rival. beomgyu seemed to be the nicer guy between the two. so, a girl can hope, right?

“oh yeah, wait for a minute!” you were so caught up in the way heeseung terrors you and slips back into your mind and how you wanted to slam the door when you heard his name when you remembered the paper that he had to sign. you pull the paper out of your folder as you pull one of your sticky notes and write a simple note to him. giving a smile to beomgyu, you handed him the paper as he stared at the words printed on it.

“give it to heeseung and send it back to me after that, or if he wants to submit it himself, then that’s fine. i have to give the contact person the info if he decides to send the paper to the administration himself.”

beomgyu nods as he chuckles at your note before giving a last “i will” before walking and waving away, making you close the door as you wonder how did he know where you lived. eh, that’s fine. you got to see what heeseung gave you as the box rested on top of the counter right beside ryujin who was pouring the japchae into the bowl.

slowly opening it—scared that he might have a jack-in-the-box mechanism inside it—you were met with plastics covering greens as you tugged a few of them out to be met with a bunch of fruits and vegetables still packed in their grocery’s packing. your shoulder meets ryujin’s as she took a glimpse at the new ingredient you picked out of the box.

“from beomgyu?”

shaking your head, you feel a piece of paper inside the box as you pinch it between your fingers. straighten the creases, you see the scribbles on the note as you read it in your mind.

eat them for the baby’s health and your own sanity - lhs

“heeseung,” you replied after you finish. ryujin gives a small hum as you catch the smirk on her face before you shove her with your shoulder. both of you open the plastics of the greens, vegetables, and fruits that heeseung bought for you, ryujin saying out loud the names of the greens as you and her bounce ideas of what kind of food she can make to cater to your diet.

“kale, cabbage, broccoli…” she picked another vegetable, carefully pulling away the plastics as the waft of the smell entered the kitchen. you knew of the vegetable, but being pregnant equals being sensitive to smells. and the way that you instantly wretch at the smell makes you scurry away from ryujin.

“hey, who rang the be-“

minjeong was pushed away as she saw you opening the door of their shared bathroom, making her turn around as she heard you wretch out the remaining food and saliva inside of you that is followed immediately by a flush from the toilet bowl. she walked to the kitchen to see ryujin holding stems of leaves on her hand.

“well, now we know she can’t eat arugula.”

the chime of the lock unlocked rings alongside the opening of the door of their apartment as ryujin and minjeong stare at it, seeing chaeryeong trying to breathe as she takes off her sneakers.

“WHY IS JIMIN PESTERING ME ABOUT (Y/N)?”

thumps and squeaks are what beomgyu heard as his eyes gazed at the lights coming out of the gymnasium. his feet working in tandem echoing through the night as he took another glance at the paper, another step away from the door as he pulled the handle to see a bunch of boys running around the wood-floored gym. beomgyu’s eyes searched for heeseung as he bit his lips, not wanting to be late for his own band practice with the boys.

turning towards the bleachers, he’s seen one of the boys that beomgyu remembered being on heeseung’s profile. his hands on top of his knees as he leans forward to see the 3 x 3 half court game beomgyu realized isn’t a part of training—but more of them having fun. he is taking a glimpse at heeseung who is muttering a curse word under his breath because the ball was stolen from his hold.

“hey, uh, sheep!”

the boy turns towards beomgyu with squinting feline-esque eyes before they widen, realizing who called him.

“your jersey has ‘yang’ on it. so i called you sheep.”

“nah, that’s okay. you’re beomgyu hyung, txt’s guitarist…” the boy stands up, their height almost the same as each other, but beomgyu knows that the kid can grow taller—from both basketball and his unfinished puberty phase, probably.

“i’m jungwon! i’m guessing you’re here for heeseung hyung?”

beomgyu glanced down at the paper as he nodded, “i couldn’t stay until he finished cause i have band practice. so, this document is for him to sign.” he told jungwon what you told him as his ghost patted himself on his shoulders for being right. beomgyu uses his thumbs to point behind him after jungwon picks up the paper that he pushed towards him and gives him a thumbs up before a loud "thank you" rings as the gymnasium door opens, leaving jungwon with a slight chuckle creeped out of his lips.

the boy couldn’t stop his curiosity as he turned the paper so he could read the writing, skimming it down as his eyebrows as he couldn’t stop his speech before it was too lat-

“HEESEUNG HYUNG IS A DAD?!”

jungwon’s shout makes movement screech to a halt as he looks up at his boys, also staring at heeseung, who is glaring at jungwon and the paper he is holding. but, his reaction speed was too slow to pull it off his grips as heeseung lost against the other five boys who had huddled towards jungwon.

“shut up!” sunoo exclaimed.

“it’s true, sun,” jongseong replied as he could hear jaeyun and riki screaming and laughing before they scurried to run around heeseung.

“who is this (y/n), hyung?” jaeyun speaks into his ear, making heeseung grimace as the three walk towards the crowd with sunghoon now holding onto the paper.

“isn’t (l/n)(y/n) your senior, jjong?” sunghoon calls out, making said boy read carefully the name with the signature on top.

“oh yeah! we had a marketing communication class together. didn’t know you knew her, hyung.”

heeseung steps in between them as he snatches the paper out of sunghoon’s grip in a quick frame. his eyes scan the paper that is written—the letter to the university administration about your status—and he can see his name printed on the side of the paper from yours. then, he finally read the note you have sticking onto the paper.

sign it and give it to the administration office. if you’re serious.

“won, it’s your turn to play,” he said as the boys stared at him. “i have things to do, plus i have a morning class tomorrow.”

“okay, hyung.” jungwon’s answer was followed by his offer to the older boys to continue the match as he felt another hand holding onto his forearm, turned to see the youngest boy with a small smile on his face.

“you gotta have to let us meet this (y/n) noona. i bet she’s pret-“

“go back to your place, riki-kun. jake’s calling for you.”

“hey, lanky. come on before i make you and jungwon switch.” jaeyun’s voice penetrates through the conversation at the correct moment as the smirk on heeseung’s face is growing. they’re leaving him alone as he walks towards his backpack and duffle bag—finally feeling the surging soreness from pushing himself hard while training and off-training. sure, it’s excessive. but the tournament is a month away from now, and he had to train for that, knowing that the matches would be back-to-back if he passed the quarter-finals.

the wood of the bleachers screeches beneath his body as he pulls out his pen, staring at the paper one last time—trembling breaths coming out from him. who knew that a single signature could hold so much power?

yet with how you are trying to deter him, to remind him that signing this will mean that the whole university will now know lee heeseung is a future father: that actually made him shake. he could feel the boiling anxiousness giving a few pumps of steam into his mind, clouding the plans he had already made in his mind from the information jeongin told him. he knows the future scenarios on both sides.

but fuck it, right? he’s not usually caring about what other people perceive. so what if he is known as a dad in nine months? but, he had to think about the parental leave you’re proposing—it might actually make him graduate late.

yet, the view is clear as he lets his pen glide on the paper.

the baby and your scowling face as you realize that his doing is the one that makes that baby so healthy.

tucking the paper in between his laptop and his wireless earbuds on his ears, he waves goodbye to the boys who are playing with sunoo giving a beautiful lay-up before he pushes the door to get out of the gym. the streetlights shining the pathways as he still can see students roaming around the campus at night—most are going to the library to maybe pull an all-nighter.

the screen illuminates his face as he scrolls down at the text jimin had sent him about you. but he had to do another victory lap first when he dialed the generic full name’s number.

“hello?”

“that will not work, (y/n).”

heeseung heard the grainy chuckle in his ear as he let his muscles’ memories take him home in the night's dark. eyes staring at the path that opens up onto the sidewalk where sparse vehicles are going about on the asphalt streets.

“so you sign it?” he caught the way you sigh against your phone while heeseung is focusing on both the conversation and what jimin texted about your condition.

“and i’ll be giving it to the office.”

“hmm, okay…” heeseung’s eyes scan through the words, letting his face contort and relax as he consumes it to his mind before it’s broken by a grainy sound of metal from your end.

“also, thanks, by the way. for the arugula. made me vomit my stomach out.” heeseung heard you reply as it slowly became more mumbled, hearing you eating your dinner’s food as the noises of the night came back into his cochlea, shaking his nerves as only white noises entertained him as he looked around—seeing his apartment building at the distance.

“and don’t make jimin ask chaeryeong about me again. she’s traumatized now and we have each other’s number saved.”

heeseung didn’t want to save your number at first. but when his mom brought him to her meeting with your mom, catching up after a long time and discussing that both of you have been accepted by the same university, they insisted that you both to have each other’s numbers saved. “for emergency sake, so you both have each other to rely on.” his mom explained, making him discreetly roll his eyes while you continue to listen to your music without giving a glance to him. yet, you’re the one that gave him your phone first so he can type his number, making a small “:p” the first thing you text to him.

“i’ll tell him.” he clicked his tongue as he caught the way you omit another information from him.

“but you’re not gonna tell me you have a doctor’s appointment next week?”

“how’d you kno-“

“jimin, from chaeryeong, and so, from you.” his smile gets bigger. “gotta have to thank jimin for that one.”

“so you want to join? what if you have a class?”

heeseung’s feet brought him to the lobby of his apartment building, his vision now on the elevator as he stated something so obvious to him.

“i have questions and i rather miss class than leave it unanswered.”

your hands are tugged inside your hoodie’s front pocket as you wait for your name to be called. the usual soreness is tamed as you let chaeryeong massage your back carefully, relaxing most of the tender muscles that are holding you up. you can see a little bump protruding out of your stomach that was not there when you discovered you were pregnant in week 8.

remembering the way you have to buy five pregnancy tests is ridiculous when your only symptoms are headaches and vomiting. but it quickly escalates to morning sickness and how you notice just how sensitive your senses have become—the way your fingers realize little grains of crayon as you pick up the kids’ drawing to how you’re triggered by little noises coming out off your room. it feels too strange for it to be food poisoning and with all five tests showing two blue stripes: all the problems you have faced for the past month—why your period is late, the morning sickness—all click inside your mind.

your girls were the first ones you spoke to, recalling how they waited in front of your shared bathroom as you flipped the tests around, hitting you one by one with the truth of your condition. then tears start to show as overwhelming emotions compete to show dominance and you hear chaeryeong’s voice from behind the knocks on the door. you open the door to feel them hugging you as you show them the tests, how they can’t wait to be your baby’s cool aunts from differing perspectives as they know of your history related to children, pregnancy, and motherhood from taking care of so many children, how your parents open up to you about why they couldn’t give you a younger sibling, and the responsibility you are willing to take care for them. at that moment they hugged, you’ve already fallen in love with your baby and you are determined to let them have a happy life.

the obstetrics and gynecology department’s walls were more pastel than the other parts of the hospital. maternity pack posters hanging as you read the words, planning your next steps as you waited by the door to your doctor. your fingers interlocked and thumbs twirling around each other as you attentively listen to the open door and your name being called. scouring your eyes around, you saw a little playground area for kids barren as you eyed the small set, mothers around you waiting also for their appointment—some with a sleeping baby in their hands, another with a large bump. the atmosphere is so serene that you can collect your thoughts and arrange them for the next seven months from your due date.

“hey, (y/n).”

your eyes blink as you turn around in your seat to face forward once again, looking up to find the familiar face you’ve been thinking about for the past few days.

heeseung wears a simple hoodie like you do, both of his hands tucked into the front pocket as the strap of his bag crosses his chest. a thin-lipped smile on his face as you didn’t see his usual resting bitch expression.

“heeseung…” you reply as you gnaw on the inside of cheek as he stands there, “i haven’t gotten the call from the doctor yet. so you can sit down.” your eyes glance quick at the vast space beside yours on the sofa you are also sitting down. he gave a quick nod before sitting on the space beside yours, a noticeable space between the two of you as you both lean more against each of the tables placed as the barriers between the sofas. even if you felt a piercing presence beside you, you tried your best not to look at him. the phone call when he called you was the last time you spoke with your voice to him—you having small talk with him as he found in the hospital doesn’t really count—yet he still gave you another box of ingredients for your unborn child this week, no arugula this time.

well, you are glad to see beomgyu more and you don’t mind seeing beomgyu every week if he’s the one that does heeseung’s errands for his child.

both of you stare forward at the doors and wall in front of you, nearing mirroring each other even by the slight twitch of both of you wanting to look at each other. but, also not really. the tension is stronger than when you told him you’re pregnant with his child. the fucking effects of the continued declaration of rivalry as you can calculate how far both of you are willing to push even for the past week and you can guess what you both will push more for the next 7 months.

“miss (l/n) (y/n)?” the door opened as the nurse spoke of your name making you jump up from your seat as heeseung followed behind you to enter the doctor’s room.

“(y/n)!” the young doctor said enthusiastically as you sat down on the chair in front of the desk.

“doctor park!” you answered, cadence matched hers.

“how have you- oh.” dr. park looks at the man entering behind you, looking between the three women in the room and the empty chair near the door before he hears her speak, “is this the dad?”

“yes, i’m the dad, lee heeseung,” he replied steadily as dr. park, who is standing up, shoots her hand out to him.

“i’m dr. park jihyo, (y/n)’s ob-gyn doctor. didn’t expect to meet you as (y/n) said that the dad might not be involved.”

heeseung’s eyebrows were raised, chortling as he realized what you implied, “after she told me, i decided to be involved.” his eyes peek from the side to see you giving a stare with no movements on your lips, sitting down on the chair beside of yours as you want to continue with your appointment.

“well, welcome to your tenth week of being pregnant. how are you feeling?” dr. park asks, looking at you with a warm smile as you see the nurse taking care of your document.

“the morning sickness kinda gets pretty worse and overflows out of the morning. definitely more sensitive towards scent, flavor, and texture. i also have already sensed growth on the bump since it is a bit more protruding than usual.” your hand unconsciously caresses the hoodie covered in your stomach, feeling the tenderness of the skin that is just muscles of your abdomen being pushed to cater to the baby.

“your stomach and intestines are being pushed by the uterus as the fetus grows and it’s very normal. since we already did the blood and urine test and went over your family history back in your first appointment, we can go to an ultrasound to check the growth of your baby.” dr. park replied as she nodded at the nurse who instantly walked to the bed and set things up for your scan.

“i’m sorry to bother you, doctor. but i have a question.”

your head shifts towards heeseung as he asks, the doctor just giving him a nod.

“(y/n) said to me she’ll get a plan b pill after our… time. yet, she still got pregnant, but isn’t that still supposed to work?” the way his voice pitches makes you hold on to a smile, recalling to when you asked the doctor the same question in your first appointment. you gave the doctor a big nod for her signal.

“well, (y/n) said to me she consumed a plan b pill less than 24 hours after your intercourse. but plan b pill, or levonorgestrel, works by delaying the release of the egg from the ovaries. she also said that her period, which started around a week or two weeks before she discovered she was positive, was late. so, we can assume that while you two have sex, (y/n) was already in her early stages of ovulation with the egg being released into the fallopian tube and the egg got fertilized.”

heeseung nods along with the doctor’s words as you remember the same explanation given to you in the previous meeting. you’ve tried using pills before but you know it will affect your hormone and physical health in the long run—you are not a serial fucker unlike a few people you recognize—so you rely on protection like condoms and morning-after pills right after that. heeseung not wearing one makes you want to laugh at how funny the scenario is and how you can just remain rivals for the rest of your life if you remind him to put on the rubber.

the nurse calls for as you follow her, stepping out of your shoes as you lay down on the bed. she gently brushes your hoodie up as your skin is exposed while she also pulls the band of your pants down below right above your underwear line. the chairs move as you glance at heeseung following dr. park as she takes the seat beside you to check on the machinery. the liquid is cold as it touches your skin as your eyes catch heeseung who is looking at the exposed stomach where his unborn child is.

as the transducer spread around the gel on the stomach when you feel it pressed down, you looked at the screen across from you hanging on the ceiling as the doctor moved around, marking the size of your uterus. you heard her gasp as you turned to look at her warm smile that widens into a grin.

“congratulations to you both!” she replied as she continued to move the transducer around, making you and heeseung realize that there’s a fetus inside you, but not just one.

“TWINS?!”

2. katana-like knife

heeseung gazes at the ultrasound he is holding with both hands, seeing the way the doctor has assigned twin 1 and twin 2 on the screen. the twins are in different sacs; he remembered what the doctor said, making them fraternal twins. she also says that not only you were ovulating when you two fuck, but you were releasing two different eggs around the same time and he got both of them pregnant.

he recalled both of you doing a hilarious staring contest as you couldn’t stop yourself from making funny faces as the doctor described the growth of your twins. fucking heck, he hadn’t told his friends that he was having twins. how his body trembles as the realization hits him while he’s looking at his babies—yes, plural—makes him even want to be more attentive, to now realize that he had two to take care of. and those two make him know you have to adjust your diet once again.

if it weren’t for him buying ingredients, he doesn’t think you would adapt easily to what the babies need. he’s won on this occasion. but what comes next?

his phone vibrates on the table as he takes a glimpse of the text message showing on the lit-up screen.

(l/n) (y/n): i’m heading home for the weekend. my parents will definitely see that i’ve been knocked up.

even he can see it as he had walked past you before on campus. you’re now wearing more oversized clothing pieces—t-shirts, hoodies, cardigans—as he realized the slight bump on the surface of them. it’s been over two weeks since that check-up appointment and the growth has been faster than he expected.

(l/n) (y/n): not asking you to join me.

(l/n) (y/n): if you aren’t brave enough to take the consequences, i’m fucking winning this :p

“that’s it” he shakes his head as he tugs the ultrasound picture into his wallet before putting it back in its place, hands opening the messages.

lee heeseung: threatening much. i’m in.

if you want to make this a competition, let’s make this a competition.

lee heeseung: hey mom. sorry for texting you randomly. but i’m going back home for the weekend.

all he had to do was wait, as he could hear the sound of his mom talking with your mom on the phone about how their children would be home together, asking to meet up.

and that moment goes exactly as he had expected as he drove the car with you in the passenger seat, leaning against the door as you both let the radio play boring-ass repeating pop songs from some random radio station. none of you seem to react, just to make each other annoyed enough to know who will concede and connect to bluetooth first—even not listening to good-ass music is a competition between you both.

you sighed extra loud as you listened to an old-ass pop song from the mid-2010s the radio seemed to have a lifetime contract for it to play for fucking ever. you wish you were the one driving now, but you didn’t bring your car for this semester because it needed maintenance and you were in a healthier mood for this year. you catch a look at your phone, seeing your mom asking where you are right now as auntie lee has arrived at your home—cooking up the food for all your family to enjoy.

“which one is your car’s bluetooth?” you gave up on hearing the radio station as you playfully checked every menu to find the bluetooth menu.

“the brand of the car, duh,” he answered, still focusing on the highway as you remembered that it’s nearly a few exits away from the side of the town you and he grew up in. he took a glance at the bluetooth speaker as he sees,

“‘mitski’s brainchild personified’? you liked her that much?” he actually snorted, making you see the name on your phone on the screen in the middle of the dashboard.

“shut the fuck up. she’s my comfort musician, just like kaede from slam dunk is your comfort character.” the way your fingers lightly tap against your phone, makes him chuckle as he can hear you holding onto your emotion from not spilling through your words, not commenting on how you mentioned his liking for slam dunk as if you remember it so well, even if it also stuns him.

you’re playing a playlist of yours that is just… instrumentals. a perfect playlist to hear whilst commuting as you let yourself take a breather from this world. eyes gazing to the window outside as you rested your phone on your lap. the scent of heeseung’s cologne accustomed your memories as you let the music speak while you both remained quiet. maybe, because it is an instrumental track that you both couldn’t comment on, that he can’t take a jab at your music taste unless you put on mitski or boygenius, that it gives a soundtrack so vague it resembles the way you perceived your relationship to each. sure, you still hate him for everything he has done to you in the name of winning. but, with two babies on the way, the concept of the rivalry between you both is there yet so blurry. which one is a concrete rivalry? which one is the softer one? why should you trust what he gave to you? why did he join in to take care of them?

the car zooms fast on the highway, yet you can see slower cars on the outside of the highway and faster cars zooming past you on the other lane. it’s like what your dad had said before—"you don’t feel how fast life is until you look at other people’s lives"—and to think that you will be home in overtly large clothing to hide your bump to know that he’s going to be a granddad just concretes the idea of that in your mind. you turn your head to glance at the backseat, seeing the shopping bag you had prepared besides what heeseung also has for his family, who he’ll meet at your house.

stepping out of the car, you stood at the carpool of your house filled with cars—other than yours and your parents inside the garage—when you watched your mom and heeseung’s mom walk out of the porch, barefooted, to greet you. the warmth of your mom’s hug felt so overwhelming that you had to sink your emotions as you blamed your hormones for making you too sensitive.

the interior of the house feels so lively from the last time you went home during the semester break. maybe it’s because of the way your mom has another guest in the form of the lee family and the smell of the delicious you know both of your moms had made together with their aprons still on as they guide you inside. even as they walked to the kitchen, you could hear them whisper.

“since when did (y/n) and heeseung arrive here together and in the same freaking car?” auntie lee asks.

“(y/n) didn’t bring her car this semester so i guess she doesn’t wanna waste any more money for transport.” mama answered.

both of your moms have always tried to make you close and you’ve always tried to tone down your rivalry in front of them, effortlessly acting in front of them as nice friends when you give him a snide look behind their backs any chance you can get. your bickering can escalate so much that you will have a shouting match in the arcade as heeseung doesn’t want to give up his time to play for you, making both of your moms force you to apologize to each other before that bickering returns at school’s classes where they’re not there for you two to mediate. maybe that’s why you don’t perceive heeseung as an enemy. merely a rival; because your mom never talked bad about heeseung no matter what happened between the two of you and it seems that heeseung’s mom has also done the same to him.

the two shopping bags sit on the coffee table as you watch both of your dads talking about dad stuff. heeseung’s attention is on his phone as he’s typing something on the screen while you unconsciously rub your stomach hidden beneath your top, waiting for all of them to settle down around the coffee table as they want to open the shopping bags together.

“what did you bring me?” mama asks in a sing-song manner as heeseung’s mom giggles beside her. you stood beside heeseung with your hands behind you as the husbands looked at the similar-looking gift boxes in each of their wives’ hands.

“don’t tell me. is it the jewelry i showed you those months ago, hee?”

“nah, it’s not. dad’s planning to buy that one for you.”

heeseung’s dad’s face turns into a scowl, seemingly angry as if his son has spoiled his plan while the boy just widens his smile before gazing back at his mom.

“well, together?” mama asked to his mom.

“yeah, 3, 2… 1!”

the box opens as you’re holding your breath, also holding back your smirk as you can view the way papa’s eyebrows crease as he can’t believe what he is saying. heeseung’s mom was the first one to openly express her shock by literally jumping from her seat and box thrown towards his dad’s as he took a good stare at it, making you glance at him you actually won the bidding on who would be shocked first between the two.

“NO, FUCK- WAIT?!” his mom stares between the two of you before your mom jumps from her space to also gaze at you, holding onto the paper. giving him a nudge with your elbow. you didn’t expect him to wrap his arm behind your shoulders.

“yeah… the babies are ours-“

“no fucking way!” your mom actually shouted as she hyperventilates while heeseung’s mom covers her mouth, contemplating on what to do when she felt her body being squished by her best friend, hugging her tight as they turn to hug each other while heeseung’s dad gives his box to your dad so he could see it clearly.

“since when are you two together?” papa asked as you tried to let heeseung’s grip from your shoulder.

“uncle, we aren’t together. we just hook up and-“

“WE’RE GOING TO BE IN-LAWS.” you can hear mama cheer as both of the women twirl around the small space, making you feel even more guilty for breaking the immersion as you stop budging away from heeseung’s hold. rolling your eyes, you stare at heeseung and lean in close to his ear, whispering.

“bad fucking idea…”

“at least they’re happy, right? well, i won because of that.”

mama interrupts both of you as she gives you both an enormous hug while heeseung’s mom comes from behind. you could see the tears coming out of mama’s eyes who rested her head against your shoulder.

“ughh, too tight.”

“stop it, honey! (y/n) looks so uncomfortable.” papa reminded.

“oops, sorry!” your mom lets go of her hold as heeseung’s mom slotted between the two of you as she pushes in on the excess fabric of your clothes, making you grip both sides of your top and pull it backward so she can see your bump already showing.

“hi, baby!”

“it’s babies.” heeseung’s dad cuts in as his wife follows with, “there’s two of them?”

“i swear to god.” heeseung’s old man brushes his face, unbelievable that his wife didn’t see the two sacs from the ultrasound as you give your mom a nod, her hands carefully holding onto your waist.

“fraternal twins,” you confirmed to her as you watched another batch of fresh tears coming out of her eyes.

“hello, you two. you’re going to have the best mom ever.”

“and dad too.” heeseung’s mom replied as she moved to stand in front of you two, seeing his grown son seemingly glowing as she spoke of him being the best dad to his two unborn children.

“okay. i gotta have to make the red meat well done then.” mama cuts out as she hastily moves to the kitchen to cook back her meat-based meal, letting auntie lee replace her place as she caresses the bump gently.

“how long has it been?” she asked as you opened your mouth to reply.

“we did the ultrasound two weeks ago. so it’s week 12 now.” heeseung cuts you off as she gazes back at her son.

“what have you two already prepared?”

“we gave a letter to the university for future parents and they agreed to let me take online classes entering 5 months because i only have three classes, one is that's doing a study case, and they let heeseung have parental leave if i give birth. i haven’t found the right doula yet but my supervisor at the daycare has a connection to one and i think it will be her. she has given me the number so i just have to text her,” you answered.

“is it near campus?” she replied.

“yeah, because i don’t want to graduate late. that’s why i decided to stay near campus during it.” you have thoughts on if you should just take a break this semester to focus on your pregnancy or not multiple times by now. but, of course, the rivalry comes back as you still want to keep pace with heeseung and your friends who will be graduating next semester.

“you should take a semester leave, (y/n).” heeseung cuts off your thought as you peek at him.

“i’ve already got what i wanted from the uni and it’s fine, heeseung. i can keep up.”

“well, you can, but what if you don’t take care of the babies?”

“of course, i can take care of the babies-“

“not by being stressed over college.”

“heeseung-“ you turn your body towards him as you grip both of his upper arms, firm hands holding him as you stare down at him. “i know what’s best for me. i know what my limits are. i’ve trusted you enough with the food but you should also trust me to know how to take care of myself outside of nutrition.”

your teeth are grinding against each other as your fiery gaze stays on him, even as you let go of the grip. it stays for a few more seconds as you turn back to head to the dads who seem to be forgotten by the sofa, seeing papa teary-eyed as he hugs and kisses your head before you let heeseung’s dad hug you.

his mom turns towards him, cupping his cheek. “she knows what she’s doing, heeseung.”

“but how should i know it’s right? cause that’s not right for me. my friend’s mom said that a pregnant woman should focus on preparing herself for her birth and doing college doesn’t seem to prepare her for that.” heeseung sighed as he looked at his mom, not expecting a slight hurt on her face.

“i was still doing my job when i was pregnant with you, heeseung. your dad trusted me for that cause he knows my limits, might be even more than i do. let her be and you might learn that she knows how to take care of herself, too.” her hand brushed away the fringe on his forehead, eyes glistening as she let out a small warm smile at him. the hurt falling away as heeseung sees her mom’s signature smile of knowing before she brought him in his arms, hugging him tight as he glances at you who is giving him a small look with a tight-lip smile before you turn away to the dining room.

heeseung stares at the glow-in-the-dark stars sticking on the ceiling. his back being stretched out on the floor as he laid on the comforter beside the single bed where you’re still playing with your phone. he remembered how he begged—trying to persuade—his parents to bring him home with them. but knowing that he’ll only be staying for one night and you two are “together”, they decide for him to stay with you instead. you can see how his fuming breath was held as you glanced at him with an unidentifiable look at the dining table, his parents believing you would let him stay in your bed.

but he insists on lying down on the floor, knowing the history between the two of you they don’t know, as you silently agree.

printed pictures still hang on one side of the room when he looks at them as long as the bedside lamp is still on. he remains silent, eyes tired from looking at his phone so much to distract him from his reality when he hears the rummaging movement on the mattress as you put the phone on the table.

“well, night, heeseung.” the click of the lamp is big in the white-noised room as darkness envelops the space, letting in the moon and streetlights outside beam their shine inside. your eyes easily adjust to the surroundings as you puff your one-less pillows on the bed to find the right position—knowing the ache of sleeping in the wrong position when you are carrying two fetuses inside you.

“since when did you work in a daycare?”

the man’s words overcome your action as you brush the cover of the pillow.

“why do you wanna know?” you put the pillows in the right position as you lay your head and back against it.

“since your mom proclaimed that you’ll be the mom ever.”

heeseung is reminded of the way you look when your mom says that, a look of pride coming out of your eyes as you unconsciously nod knowingly. even if you and him are close by proximity—by being your moms’ children, by being schoolmates, by having roommates who stay in proximity with each other—there’s still something that you don’t know about each other. because if the opposites know, they can use it as leverage to bring any of the two down.

“had a few babysitting gigs during high school days. i started to like it more and decided when i go to hybe, i’ve volunteered for a non-formal school for children and more. i decided to do a part-time job at a daycare and yeah…” you replied, laying down by your side as if you could see heeseung beside you when he is, in fact, below you.

“it doesn’t match with your major though.” heeseung gives a snide comment as you sigh loudly.

“so what if a business major can’t connect with my passion for childcare- fuck me.” you stopped to remind yourself to stop taking the bait from heeseung because you know he was making these comments to break your confidence within yourself. you could discuss how making and taking care of a business could resemble making and taking care of a child, but with the way he had pissed you off today in more ways than one, you rather stick that thought to yourself and instead, take offense towards him.

“why did you wrap your arm around my shoulders?”

heeseung glances towards the bed, seeing your silhouette on the top forming a dark shadow because of your comforter shielding it.

“i had to. so they know the babies are ours,” he replied with the thought that first came to mind after he already had his arm behind you—blaming his underlying consciousness for doing that.

“and it makes them believe we’re together when we’re not. look at us now.” both of your arms stretch out of the comforter to tell him just how big the situation you got yourself into cause how many white lies must you tell your parents to hide that this is because of a hookup, not because you are romantically linked?

your staggered giggles drop as you try to glance downwards at him, the arm nearest to the floor left hanging as heeseung didn’t comment on what you said. “well, this just got more complicated.”

“our situation is complicated since the start, (y/n).”

“well, i know who to blame for making our strings get more tangled with our parents cause fuck you, heeseung.”

he saw the lone middle finger standing tall from the silhouette of your figure before you picked yourself up and lay all your weight on the bed, turning the other side as heeseung followed; both of you staring at the opposites of the room, knowing that your bodies needed to rest so you can face each other again in the morning.

the time between that night and how you both lived after you went back to your own places near campus was a week when you texted him about the doula that you had told at your parent’s home. the car was left in neutral with the handbrake lifted as heeseung waited at the daycare where you work. his eyes gaze at the differing modes of transport each guardian is picking up the kids with before looking at the lobby as he sees you and another attendant saying goodbyes to the kids. he watches as a few of them hug you and even a few let their cheek rested against your growing bump before you take a glance forward at them who is going back to be with their parents, noticing his car for a few seconds before you return inside to take your items.

the backpack is hanging off your shoulders as you take another sliced fried potato from the container when you enter the passenger’s seat beside his driver’s one, resting your back against the seat with your bag there to support you. “hello! i’ve sent you the address, right?”

he stares at you with his squinting eyes, “you should not eat that.”

“it’s cravings, heeseung. it’s totally normal. the doula can count me on that.” you chew another fry as heeseung lets out a mumble under his breath as he moves the handbrake and puts the gear to drive, reeling the car forward as he drives you to the doula’s office. both of your moms have suggested several doulas for you to choose from, but you reminded them you’re having twins. so having a doula who specializes in taking care of moms birthing multiples will be helpful as it is also your first time.

playfully, you fly a french fry like an airplane towards heeseung as he drives, like the usual time you try to feed kids at the daycare. it nudges against his lips a few times before he bit it, pulling it off your fingers; making you let out a chuckle cause he can’t even resist it himself.

the parking lot was pretty barren as you only saw a few vehicles when you both walked out of the cars. you adjust the backpack once again on your back as the chime from the car tells you it is now locked as you enter the office building.

thanking the receptionist, you and he stood in front of the doula’s office as you knocked the door.

the door opens as a soft-spoken woman says from the inside, “miss (l/n)(y/n)?”

“yes, i am.”

“oh, come in. come in.” the door widened as heeseung could see the things inside the large office room. a desk in one corner and a cabinet stood behind it. accolades and certifications by the desk with a sofa on the corner beside the door. a box of what seems to be baby toys beside the sofa as posters are hanging on the wall. from the anatomical look of a baby inside their mom’s uterus to words of encouragement towards mothers.

“i’m haseul. nice to meet you.” the woman shook your hand as she then glanced at heeseung who was still wandering around.

“oh, uh, this is heeseung, the babies’ daddy.” you refer to his name as he looks at the lady, shaking her hand as she looks between the two of you.

“so, both of you aren’t married or dating-“

“no, we’re childhood friends and hooked up, and this happened.” heeseung blurts out as you raised your eyebrows, poking your tongue in the cheek. haseul nodded her head as she let both of you sit down in front of the desk.

“first, congratulations on the twins. you must be nervous to find that out.”

“of course, especially as a first-time mom. but, i’m feeling pretty okay.”

“that’s good, i’ve also sent you the questionnaire for you to fill on your plan for giving birth…” haseul’s voice traces out as heeseung glances at the portrait frame of her holding onto a baby with a mom, a glance at the book about post-partum, and a baby doll on top of the cabinet right in front of a corner window. he could only catch onto some words he recognized from jeongin telling him—birth, dilation, cramps, anesthesia, cesarean—as he sensed himself getting overwhelmed, especially when he had the second preliminary match in two days and his gig in being the documentation for a baseball match for hybe uni too.

his thumbs caressed his fingertips as he sensed the sweat forming on his palm, the same feeling he has every time he has to go to match. to then realize just how ready you seem by how eloquently you say the words for your requests to the doula like you’ve grown up much more than he is even though both of you are the same age. sure, he felt the leverage the first time when he sent you food and a few tips he makes beomgyu do; but his knowledge couldn’t compete with yours and it scares him to know he is losing his stance from above you. to know that you’re much more ready than him.

“heeseung…” he heard someone calling for him, before something wrapped around his wrist, taken aback to see you brought him back to the room he was in.

“sorry… what did you say?” heeseung replied as haseul gave him a warm smile.

“i’ve heard from (y/n) that you have known some knowledge of pregnancies but i could give you some sources to read because it is your first time as a dad as well.” the woman said to him calmly, looking at heeseung as if she can read his body language. your hold on his wrist stays as you rub the inside of his wrist with your thumb. “we have also discussed that (y/n) will try the normal route with water birth and if she can’t handle it, she’ll be going with cesarean. we could also do an appointment every two weeks as both of you are students now, but it is best if you come so you can understand each process as she is entering the second trimester.”

“i understand. i’ll try my best to set my schedule so i can join her.” heeseung glanced at you, who was giving a nod before you let go of your hold as he seemed to be anchored back in the room. the woman gives a small smile as she starts a lecture on the process of pregnancy, childhood, and parenthood. another class that heeseung doesn’t want to get in the first place, but knowing his determination to be the best dad ever—as what his mom believes him to be—he follows along with writing notes in his book as you have with your laptop. the class that he has to pass so he can take care of his children as best as he can.

even with the music booming from around his space, heeseung still felt like something was different. his eyes rested on the plastic-colored cup filled with a concoction of alcohol he didn’t know—he could taste the gin and what seemed to be fanta in it. the sigma mu’s frat house lits up in motion as he eyes the way the expensive big-ass speakers are scattered around the room, gazing at the familiar faces of his peers and juniors he has seen while walking around campus.

something stirs within him as he eyes his friends who are here—beomgyu who is by the speaker as he talks with the dj, jimin with his dance crew friends, jeongin with his class friend, while heeseung sits with sunoo and sunghoon on either side of him. that’s when he caught onto the silhouette of some familiar faces every time he comes across a certain person; every time he comes across you.

“excuse me, gang.” heeseung would like to thank himself for being able to stand up so stable even with the nearly empty cup, excusing himself from his basketball teammates to walk towards the frat boys of sigma mu to find the vp and his girlfriend by his side.

“winter…” he calls with the nickname he heard you and others call her before as said girl turns towards him with her boyfriend’s arm still behind the sofa.

“lee heeseung.” she spoke out with a grin on her face, “what makes you come in front of us?”

“i was wondering,” ‘fuck it’ heeseung drinks up the whole liquid that remains inside the cup, hoping that his alcohol tolerance still be able to support him to be stable, “has (y/n) ever talked to you about a doula check-up or some other thing?”

“she should’ve told me if there’s gonna be a checkup but i don’t think there is one nearest from now.” minjeong replies as she lets sungchan take care of her drink so she can comfortably talk to the boy in front of them.

“ah, really?”

“yeah!” minjeong replied before giving another smile. that’s when someone crashes to wrap their arms around minjeong and sungchan, making the two jump as they turn to see ryujin’s head between both of them before giving minjeong a peck on the temple.

“hey, (y/n)’s baby daddy. whatchu up to?”

heeseung chuckles as he looks between the two girls—”no wonder you have them as your friends, all of them are similar after all”—before he opens his mouth.

“just checking what’s (y/n) up to-“

“well, she’s not here. for your information.” ryujin lets out a smirk, “you must really wanna talk to her about something.”

“a doula appointment.” sungchan replied, “and you know how (y/n) is about…” the boy glances at, “him.”

heeseung’s teeth grit against each other as he senses they are hiding something from him. maybe because of your doing so you can prove to everyone that he isn’t as committed to his children as he spoke about.

“you and minjeong aren’t home, so i presume (y/n) is with chaer-“

“someone’s calling my name?”

heeseung sighs as he turns towards the voice of chaeryeong who is holding two cups of drinks as she gives one to ryujin.

“he’s asking about (y/n).” minjeong nods toward chaeryeong when she lets out a small ah before turning her head to stare at heeseung.

“since chan here invited all four of us at the frat party, she really wanted to be here but, of course, cause she’s preggo with YOUR children, she couldn’t. but all of us went out of the apartment together and she was holding a duffle bag of some sort.”

“where is she going?” heeseung doesn’t hesitate to ask, making your three friends look at each other and giggle.

“you seem desperate enough. she’s at the park near our apartment complex. she complained about needing a light workout because of how much her back is hurting.” ryujin said as heeseung could picture the park, knowing where you lived because he had picked you up for your trip back home for the weekend.

“okay, thanks all of you.” heeseung places the cup on the table beside the sofa where minjeong sits and turns away, letting the sense of fresh air flowing inside the frat house guide him to the nearest exit as he arrived on the pavement, feeling the stuffiness inside him getting lighter as he gave a text in his group chat he’ll be leaving early.

the walk there was pleasant, to say the least, because the suburban town the campus is in is pretty sparse compared to the city where heeseung and you live. there is enough place for it to be called a big town but not enough skyscrapers to be called a metropolis. and with the inconsiderable amount of apartment complexes available near campus, he already pinpointed the park where you might be.

crossing the black-and-white stripes, he arrived at one of the entrances of the park where he still could see a few people doing their activities inside—night jogging, playing chess under the streetlights, and a couple who was on a date. he was reminded of what ryujin said about how you might need exercise, but the duffle bag says to him you might stay in one place rather than walking around the park as the main event of your exercise time.

heeseung’s feet instantly brought him to the place that he had gone before in this park as it is the same park near where sunghoon, jay, and jake live—maybe they live in the same complex as you do—when he finds the silhouette lightly jog behind the trees from the path he is on. the sound of rubber meeting the concrete slaps across the night’s atmosphere as he sees you in the middle of the basketball court, wearing a sweatshirt where he could see the bump pushing against the fabric. the basketball bouncing between your palm and the ground creates the familiar sound as you jog toward the ring and shoot your shot. the ball hits the backboard enough that it bounces into the basket.

“fuck yes…” you exclaimed as you grabbed the bouncing ball into your hand, heaving as you brushed the sweat of your skin right underneath the spotlight shining on the court.

that’s when you pick up the scraping on the concrete and clap when you turn around to look at the last person you want to see tonight.

“you still got it,” heeseung commented, making you scoff as you took a few steps back so you stood adjacent to the free throw circle. holding up the basketball between your hands as you tried to remember the position before pushing towards the ring. the basketball curves as it hits the edge of the box instead.

“dammit!”

“you spun your ball,” heeseung replies as the ball flies into his arm, naturally guiding it into a dribble as he walks towards you.

“i didn’t.”

“your wrist was twisted and it makes your hand doesn’t flop straight towards the ring.” he walks towards your side as he shows you the way to hold it, making you glance at the arm muscles that form from holding the ball so much as he throws the ball, creating a perfect arch that it bounces on the back of the rim before it flies and the basket catches its fall. your body immediately reaches for it before heeseung can as you return to your spot whilst dribbling alternating between left and right.

“i know.” you lightly roll your eyes as you grab onto the basketball once again, wiping your sweat palm against your sweatshirt before you feel the right grip as you return to your position, reminding yourself to let the ball fly and not twist your ball before you threw it.

you heard a click of the tongue as you saw a pair of hands reaching to hold yours, making your hand move to the position as you picked up heeseung’s breath beside your ear. startled, your shoulder nudges against his chest as you hear a small “ack” before you throw the basketball, seeing it twirl in the air. you can hear heeseung saying “i told you so.” before it bounces against the backboard, but you are ready as you stride towards it to grab the ball before heeseung catches it and you quickly do a layup, gliding the ball as it bounces right at the small box above the rim as it bounces inside. you turn your body to face him, head tilted with a smug smile as the ball bounces before it rolls to heeseung’s feet.

but the smile falls as you see heeseung who is in his element, walking back to the three-point line and shooting his shot as the ball, once again, creates a perfect arc. the basket catches it into its net as heeseung walks towards the center of the court with a wide grin on his face. the ball bounces near you as you hold it and dribble once more, glancing at it, the court, and heeseung once again as you shake your head, scolding yourself to take things slow for your and your babies’ sake. the sudden epiphany makes your eyelids flutter as you dribble away at a steady walking pace around the court.

your footsteps are met with another as heeseung’s legs stride towards you, a smirk on his face showing as he replies, “that’s why you were put in the point guard position.”

“hmm…” your reply is small as you continue to dribble away the basketball, making you and he walk around the court together before he cuts through the silence.

“why did you stop playing basketball in high school?”

your body stood still as you let your muscle memory do your job of dribbling the ball, shifting your head towards his even if you look away.

“you were, well, it seems to be still are, good at it,” he added.

the memories of your first year in high school from the extracurricular showcase come back as you are already determined to stop playing basketball, focusing on doing something else that you were interested in.

“i got tired of it,” you replied, but heeseung seemed to notice that it was not all the truth.

“and…”

the ball stops bouncing as you hold it against you, wrapping your arm across your front along with the ball as you glare at him and reply, “you.”

“me?”

“yeah, you. i stopped playing because of you.” you turn around and set your eyes on the bench where your bag is. your water bottle calling for you so you can hydrate yourself as you give in.

“really, huh? wow, that was another victory i didn’t expect-“

“fucking hell, heeseung. that’s why- this-“ you gulped down your saliva, “what you become because of it is why i stop. i know our moms are outstanding basketball players at their time and we’ve gotten the signal to be like them but-“ you hold back as you throw the bottle inside the bag, holding yourself down as your hands form fists.

basketball has always been a large part of your life before you were even born. your mom and heeseung’s met because of their love of basketball as they became skilled players together. your mom and dad meet up because of basketball. you still remember the amount of pictures of your parents in their high school days in their basketball jerseys in the photo albums. even if they don’t pursue it professionally, it still becomes a large part of their life as it also spills onto you.

with the amount of time you have interacted with children—as it makes you see your own experience as a child in a different view—many of them like to mimic what their parents do before they form their own sense of self. you can see it with the way one child at the daycare is always playing doctor with dolls, figures, and plushies because one of their parents is a doctor. you were like that. you’ve heard and seen just how impactful basketball is to your mom that you want to be just like her, making you join the teams during your elementary and middle schools.

to see and feel the influence of your rival during practice and tournaments around you was overwhelming.

the tug-of-war between the basketball in between both of your hands is just the beginning of what kinds of rivalry you and him have during practice. even if your coaches assigned you to the same team, you or he, depending on who is first, will reach out to the coach to be put into the other team. even if you two had to practice together, hidden aggression is flying to the roof, which includes passing the ball so hard that it had even made your nose bleed. as time goes on and the many matches you and he have to compete in as you two have to watch each other to “encourage” each other’s team, you had notice the way you fell out of love of basketball because of how there are more bad memories associated with it even if you were being trusted as a captain for one season and scoring many buzzer beaters to let your team and school win the tournament.

“you’ve become so much better with it as i lost interest. i still remember when the coach brought me to the nurse’s office cause you passed the ball so hard that it hit my face. in the middle of practice for the last season in middle school, that’s when i knew…” you take steps closer as you now stand in front of him.

“i knew i’m in a losing battle against you.”

your muscles twitched as you wanted to let out a smirk when you noticed the hidden expression heeseung failed to hide, the little shock he had gotten to show. yet, the emotion that is enveloping you held it down, as you now had to tell him the truth. why your rivalry seemed to expand outside of the scope that both of you are in.

“that’s why i quit basketball. that’s why i decide to pursue my own path even with you tailing behind me to comment on my every move. because i am sick of you. yet, i held back. i had to retaliate, just like what i did on that fucking playground when we were 5. cause i’m not afraid of you even though i know i’ll lost in the end.” you chew the inside of your cheeks as heeseung seems to read your face while letting his brain figure out what you meant.

“that’s why i wanted a fucking truce.”

with the way your facial muscles contort, it hurts you more and more as you feel the tears of pain forming, harboring the feelings you have felt for nearly two decades now. with your hand raised, you wiped the small drop of tear as you let out a huge breath, feeling just a bit of the weight in your rivalry falls off—right along with you.

as you let your body sit on the concrete ground, you push yourself back slowly as you settle and lay on it. heeseung’s conflicted face peeking from your vision while you’re trying to blur it out by focusing on the night sky. though the light pollution is still around you, you can still see tiny specks of stars behind the shadow of clouds of the night. stretching your back on the ground as you let your backbone rest after trying to make you stand upright while carrying two growing fetuses.

eyelids close, you let nature take control in calming your emotions and let heeseung process the information himself. the first time you truly open up yourself behind the mask of your persona—maybe when he stays the night in your childhood room is one as you recall your feet resting against his sleeping figure, contemplating if you want to wake him up or not before gazing at the dusting basketball that you decide to bring back to your apartment after papa helps in blowing more air so it doesn’t sag too much.

the sound of rustling leaves seems to be louder as you rest still, hearing a muffled thump beside you as you open your eyes, looking at your feet to then find another pair lying down right beside yours.

“you’re the one that was throwing a fit and ruining my toy truck after i apologized.” you sighed as you took a peek to see heeseung’s head turning towards you, asserting dominance once again before looking back. you knew that if you replied with the same vibe to assert your own dominance, it would actually break you apart faster than the rate that you are now. however, you have one question that will be the right one to ask him about.

“did you mean that?”

“‘mean’ what?”

“the apology? did you mean that? cause i want you to look at it from my eyes, lee.”

heeseung traces back to that memory when he sees you teary-eyed face and his mom beside him, the boys he was playing with snickering on the side as they saw him getting in trouble with his then-friend. the “sorry” mumbled out of him with his eyes on you but mind on the boys, who seemed to not snicker at him, but at you for being a pissy fit. but, deep down, he knew…

“i meant it.” his reply makes you turn your head, mirroring his form as you let out a slight pout.

“with that smile you were giving? hell no-“ you rolled your eyes.

“i genuinely meant it. the boys that were there, they were behind you and they were laughing at us. i had to juggle facing you and them. i had to look fierce yet still can give you an apology. maybe that’s why you see the smirk that you see. i was a fucking child, (y/n). we’re not as good as we are not in hiding complicated emotions to only let out one.”

your chest rises and falls as you see the apology smirk in a different light. you don’t know if you should easily believe that or not, but after taking it into consideration, you could feel a small part of your inner child healing up before you realize the damage that you also have done to him.

“if it is genuine; i’m sorry, then. about the truck. you know how i felt now and why i did that.” you return to look at the sky once again as you hear the rustle beside you before peeking at heeseung who is also staring into the night, listening to him humming before you return to gaze back again.

“what would happen if i actually have the emotional intelligence to know that you were sincere that day?” your words cut off the silence as you felt the guilt pouring for it to be transformed into humor that was reciprocated well by heeseung’s chuckles.

“well, we wouldn’t have these two.” he playfully poked your belly, making you let out a small shriek before holding onto his wrist as you held his hand down between the two of you and you pivoted your head to see him.

“in all seriousness, i think we might have been the friends our moms see us to be because let me tell you, they see us differently than what we are having.” his words are replied with a hum as you added,

“i notice that too. glad we can be more civil in front of them.”

“we still could, you know.”

with the way you didn’t hold on to his wrist tightly, you felt the limb moving under your touch before his palm rested underneath your own. the wind blows against your sweaty top as it gives you shivers from the cold, hoping that your own temperature and a lifeline can help warm it up. and you can feel it warmer as you see heeseung pivot to mirror you. his fingers slid between yours as if he knew the little shivered breath you led out.

“have each other’s backs. emulate what they want.”

your eyes are galloping to the way the spotlight shines half of his as the other one is cast in shadows from facing the concrete. you could smell a faint scent of alcohol on him but with the life in his eyes, you knew he wasn’t drunk. the way his eyes are also peering with slight twitches as before connecting with your gaze.

both of you take turns to take a breath as you sense the tip of his nose brushing against yours. every time you let out a breath, the other’s lips linger before connecting once. your legs curled as you felt the ticklish sensation surging through your nerves before heeseung pushed your lower back so it could stay for one last long kiss before he pulled away. your noses touch each other as you feel his hand on your waist trails to your bump, pressing it down gently as you lean back to see him looking down at the body he is holding. then, his eyes flick back to you as he can sense you slip away, turning yourself away from him as you push yourself up with your arms.

grabbing the lone basketball and putting it in the duffle bag, you zip it up and shift to find heeseung now upright, yet still with his legs stretched out on the ground.

“baby steps, heeseung.” you pull away before giving a small salute.

“baby steps.”

your voice echoes as heeseung watches you walk away, biting his bottom lip before a chuckle falls out of him as he knows he had to text you back his question about the appointment, knowing that you will reply to him.

beomgyu breathed out as the elevator opened up to the now familiar hallway, holding onto the box that he had still had to bring even if heeseung already told him he’ll do the next one himself because of what he told him. the box held fresh ingredients that jeongin also pinpoint—courtesy of his doctor mom—on what you should eat, considering now that there are two of them inside you. beomgyu couldn’t help but feel melancholic knowing that this was the last time he’d probably visit your apartment complex as… well…

but, other than bringing you today’s box, beomgyu is here to pick you up for the doula appointment as heeseung will follow suit after practice. even his bandmates are weirded out as to why he has to do the errands, but knowing that they’re in the process of rest mode whilst preparing to create new music and focusing on academics, he allows it, especially with how long he has been best friends with the guy.

he huffs as he positions the box again against his upper body, sliding his pointer finger to the bell as he picks up the familiar bell sounding in the room. but it seems like there’s no one inside. he’s glad that he remembers the pin ryujin has given him as he pushes inside the door to see the clean empty living room of the apartment he has been in countless times when he had to put the box in himself. pushing off his shoes, he walks to the kitchen and places the box on the island counter before rushing towards the intercom to turn off the bell.

that’s when he heard the noise of something familiar.

a guitar strumming sound of chords and the changes he recognized.

beomgyu took tiny steps towards one of the ajar doors in the hallway as the realization of the familiar sound widened his eyes. of course it was familiar to him, it was his song.

the nearly acoustic rendition of “skipping stones” with a familiar voice he had heard makes him peek through the door to find you sitting cross-legged on your bed, holding a nearly all-white guitar as you strum while having headphones on your head, singing the daylights out as your window lets the stream of lights in through the window. he lets you sing as he can see you glow—jeongin had mentioned to him that pregnant women have this whole glow on them. maybe that’s what he was seeing in you. the way your fingers glide against the fretboard with your eyes on it or close as you sing the lyrics makes beomgyu mesmerized.

the last ring of strings strummed is heard from your rumble speaker when you notice clapping from outside of your headphones, making you look up to find beomgyu behind your slightly open door. his clapping turns to hollering as lets out a wide thin smile before looking away; you don’t want him to see you flustered. that is when you realize why you’re here.

“oh fuck, the doula appointment.”

“yeah!” beomgyu replies outside as you quickly tidy the guitar up into your case and you step into your wardrobe to grab some more clothes that are much more appropriate for your appointment.

“sorry, about that. beom.”

“nah, no worries. i can wait.”

“thanks!” you close the door as you quickly change your clothes, deciding for a flowy blouse with a rubber-banded culotte, needing to remind yourself to buy maternity clothes because you are slowly running out of clothes that fit you. you wore a bit of sunscreen as you got a message from mama telling you to embrace the pregnancy glow your friends seemed to notice is exuding out of you as you’re in the second trimester. wearing the eau du toilette that doesn’t make you as dizzy—unlike perfume—you open the door to see beomgyu leaning against the wall where it hangs a frame of you and your roommates in photo booths.

“you ready?” he held his hand out as you nodded, you put your hands out before beomgyu grabbed the strap of the bag from your hold, startling you before you returned to your usual state. if your face isn’t warm enough, it’s now warmer from the embarrassment.

the walk down to his car is silent as he helps with buckling the seatbelt to the side. seeing how much your stomach is rested underneath the strap makes him giggle as you recognize the smell of pot from beomgyu’s very appropriate old sedan car.

“hopefully you aren’t high while driving me.” you give a cheeky grin.

“of course not. heeseung will actually kill me if he finds that i dui with you.”

beomgyu twists the key of the ignition as the car turns on—yes, that’s how old his car is—as the sound of a loud rock song plays from the rock fm you recognized. his hand reaches for the button as you react,

“no need. i’m okay with it.”

he hums as he reaches for the volume to turn the sound down, not letting the rattling of the sound in the interior startle you as he pulls the car out of the parking space and into the road.

“can you check the quickest route to the office?” beomgyu said as he brushed his wolf-cut hair.

“of course.” you lean back against the leather seat as you open the map app on your phone, telling beomgyu the roads to the doula’s office. the song has changed to a familiar song by tom petty playing as you notice how beomgyu glances at you.

“what?” you called out with a few chuckles.

“i didn’t expect you to like my song, well txt’s song.” his reply is met with your own giggle as you lean back.

“even if i hate heeseung. that doesn’t mean i have to hate his friends, you know?”

your eyebrow is raised as he gives another quick look before focusing on the road, “if you don’t believe me, i’ve been a fan of band your band since, like, sophomore year when you formed.”

“why? i really wanna hear from a fan's perspective.”

your giggle warms his heart as you answered, “i just relate to it, ya hear? a band that talks about the hardships of finding oneself and the struggle of growing but in a more intelligible way other, especially ‘skipping stones’ from your newest album.”

both of beomgyu’s hands are on the steering wheel as you feel the brake of the car before turning to the curb of where the office is, parking nearest to the entrance as the car stops and he pulls the hand brake. both of you sitting inside as you waited for heeseung to arrive in a few minutes from the last time he texted you.

“why ‘skipping stones’ specifically?”

“hmm…” you suppressed the grin that is threatening to go out before replying with, “interpreting self-struggle with the idea of skipping stone is… in it of itself, very poignant. to correlate the body of water with your own and the stones you’re throwing as the struggle you’re facing.” you let out a huge sigh, “i don’t know- it’s something i understand, especially if someone else is doing the skipping stone to you, feeling that emotion sinking into you, replacing the water’s place…”

you glanced at beomgyu who was definitely staring at you, his hands on his lap as he let out a solemn smile, agreeing with what you said. you quietly nod and take a sharp intake, trying to find the right words to cut the rising awkwardness between the two of you, “other than that, the freaking dissonance on the harmony is so good. it gives a sense of unbalanced buoyancy as if you’re a leaf floating on the water and the skipping stone makes it unstable. great job on that.”

“thanks!”

“of course.” you nearly slapped yourself for leaning closer to the middle console, but beomgyu seemed to not react as much when you felt a bit of your finger touching his. “can’t wait for the next release. no pressure.”

the corner of beomgyu’s lips rose as he giggled, a boyish grin on his face before his expression changed, “don’t worry, me and the band won’t let the fans down.” he replied as you leaned back, head nodding. that’s when you hear the rumbling of the car right beside yours as you see the appearance of heeseung’s newer model car.

“gotta go. thank you so much for bringing me here,” you said as beomgyu helped pick your bag up from the backseat.

“of course, (y/n). gotta have to thank heeseung for letting me do so, but hey…” you felt his hand reaching and now touching your wrist, making you turn your body while nearly opening the door.

“i've known you since high school but we never hang out together cause of heeseung. maybe we could hang out, with your girls and my guys? if heeseung is already melting his ice down then i think that’s okay for us and our friends to hang out. it’s up to you, though.”

you suppress an amused smile as you think about it. thinking about how long have you been crushing on the boy in front of you and how you wanna shake heeseung a thank you for letting him do the errands, maybe even to your noise-canceling headphones that make him notice just how much you like him- no, his band. yeah.

“i’ll think about it. heeseung and i don’t have a formal truce yet but based on what we talked about last time, maybe it could work.”

“sweet-“

you heard a knocking on the door before you turned around to catch heeseung’s silhouette behind the glass window.

“i’ll talk to the girls so we can arrange a time.”

“me too with the guys.”

“okay, bye beomgyu.” the car door unlocks as you nuzzle the door open while hearing beomgyu’s own “bye” from the driver’s seat. heeseung helps to hold the door as you step out.

“thanks for her ride, gyu.”

“don’t mention it, hee. we might even have to ride with her often.” beomgyu said right as the door that heeseung held closed. the engine turns on as the car drives off the parking. you stand right beside heeseung as he looks at you, who still has a lingering smile on your face.

“why are you smiling, (y/n)?”

he lightly nudges your palm with his as you turn your head to him.

“you’ll see, hee.” as you took off towards the office, leaving heeseung once again alone as he then followed you.

part 2

taglist: @raeyunshm @leilasmom @evidive @boba-beom @kwiwin @endzii23 @fluffyywoo @camipendragon @hiqhkey @wccycc @cha0thicpisces @y4wnjunz @yeehawnana @beansworldsstuff @kimipxl @blurryriki @amazzwon @reallysmolrenjun @stelanity @possibly-zoe0218 @enhypenilycometoaus @jaysupremacy @jungwoneez

#xylatox fic recs #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #heeseung x reader #enhypen fanfiction

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sheabuttahwrites · 2 days ago

Text

Where There's Smoke, There's Fire

Modern!AU Smoke x Annie

- Shea Buttah Bakery Masterlist story masterlist - sounds // Stardust - Lester Young - warnings - Explicit Language - -

Annie admired the blue lacquer on her almond-shaped nails, recalling the sweet yet straightforward request she’d gotten to polish them that color. The text had popped up the day before. So last minute—their date was tonight. But, for him, she didn’t mind so much. She’d make something shake somehow. Lucky for the both of them, her nail tech was able to squeeze her in the same day. The striking cobalt complimented her warm brown skin beautifully. Surely it would look just as good against whatever parts of him he wanted her to touch.

He couldn't wait to see her; that was the other part of the text. She couldn't wait to see him either. It had been an entire week since they’d been able to let loose with each other. She took a bite of her sandwich, courtesy of her special someone. It was a slow Friday, though they’d just had a companywide meeting that wasn't the easiest to sit through. Sales were on a bit of a downward trend. And, though it wasn't necessarily anything abnormal, their boss, the owner, was always paranoid about any decline.

“Hiiii—ugh, what’s that?” Her coworker Pearline’s big smile turned sour once she’d entered her office. “I was coming to see if you had some jollof or something.”

Annie couldn't help but laugh. “Nah, not today.”

“Awww.”

“You didn't bring anything? I got extra. It’s not jollof, but it’s still pretty good.” She bit into the chicken club, pointing down to the other half still wrapped in front of her.

“Yeah, I ate already. I’m just being greedy.” They shared a laugh as Pearline sat. It always tickled Annie how much Pearline could eat in contrast to how tiny she was. “Thank you, though.”

“No worries. So, you ok? I know you don't usually fare too well when the meetings get a little strict.”

“No!” She’d leaned over onto Annie’s desk with the most intense whisper, wide-eyed and dead serious. Annie laughed again. “I was just about to ask if I could chill in here until I get my feet back together.”

“Yes, you can stay.”

Pearline may have succumbed to her emotions every single time things got tense, but her work never suffered. Annie was especially grateful since they worked on the same team.

“As a matter of fact, do you have dinner plans for tonight?”

“None that I know of. Why?”

“One second.” Annie picked up her phone and dialed her mom’s number. “Hey, Ma, what you doing?

“Hi, Annie. Are you calling to cancel?”

“Ma. No, I’m not calling to cancel. I was actually calling to ask if I could bring a colleague to dinner tonight.”

“Oh, yes, sure. That’s no problem.”

“Ok, good. This greedy girl at my job loves your food,” Annie joked, looking directly at Pearline. Drop-jawed, Pearline glared back while Annie’s mom giggled in her ear at the compliment.

“How sweet. Yes, bring her. There will be plenty to share.”

“Alright, Ma, Thank you. I gotta get back to work. I do have to leave dinner early tonight, but I will be there.”

“Aniola!”

“I know, I know. I’ll make it up to you and dad, I promise.”

“You're becoming like a stranger. I’m concer—”

Annie took the phone from her ear, not liking the direction their conversation was heading in. Especially not during what was left of her lunch break. “Ok, love you, Ma. See you in a little bit.” She ended the call with a sigh, knowing she would have to hear more of it later. “Now, you can have all the jollof your lil heart desires.”

Pearline lit up. “For real? I’m coming to dinner?”

“Yes. My mom loves feeding folks. And, whatever you do, please don’t turn down any food.”

“What? That will not be a problem.”

In the midst of Annie’s laughter and Pearline’s celebration, their boss passed by and stuck his head into the room.

“Am I interrupting?”

Pearline froze. His presence was like that. Quiet, but big. Heavy. Felt down to the bones. He was also quite stoic, but something about him felt warm. To Annie anyway.

“Uh, no,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ve just invited Pearline to dinner with my family tonight. Is everything ok?”

“Yeah. I just wanted to drop off your five year plaque.” He walked in and held it out to her. “Congratulations.”

“Oh. Yeah. Thanks.” Her anniversary hadn't even crossed her mind. She took the plaque from his hand, reading the short message thanking her for her many contributions over the years.

“Your bonus will be reflected in your next paycheck.” Ears pricked, Annie looked up from her award. “We appreciate you around here. The machine wouldn’t run half as smoothly without you.”

“Awww. Thank you, Elijah.”

He nodded. “Alright, I’ll leave you to it.”

He was almost out of the room when Annie stopped him. “Hey, um… do you like Nigerian food?”

“…I’ve only had it once, but I did enjoy it.”

“Then you should come tonight, too. My parents are lovely hosts.”

Pearline, whose usually boisterous self had remained as quiet as a church mouse, almost reacted, but she caught herself.

Elijah was a little skeptical. In a couple seconds, he’d already thought up a few reasons why he should decline. For one, he already had plans for the night. He’d also never accepted any invite to anything from any of his employees. But he knew he couldn't pass this up. “Ok… I will. Thank you.”

“No worries. Hopefully you can handle spice.”

“I handle it just fine.”

“Alright.”

Annie would bet her bonus that she’d caught the faintest grin on his face on his way out. She smiled to herself. As soon as he was out of earshot, Pearline turned to her with a very apparent frown.

“Why did you invite him? He’s the reason I need to decompress in the first place. Did you forget he just yelled at us because his sales are slightly lower?”

Annie laughed. “He did not yell.”

“He might as well have.” She looked back to make sure the coast was still clear. “He’s mean as a rattlesnake.”

“He’s stern, but he’s not mean. To be fair, this is a pretty substantial business he’s running here. That must come with some stress.”

“Mhm.” Annie laughed again as Pearline’s eyes rolled. “Have you ever seen him smile? You were just smiling at him and he didn't even give you one back. Not even after your invitation.”

“Fair, but he was still doing a kind gesture. He’s always helpful if someone’s having trouble. Our pay is amazing. And it’s pretty lax here, too. No one hangs over your shoulder, micromanaging you to death.”

Pearline had to agree, but she hated every second of it, hanging her head with an exaggerated sigh.

“Trust me, girl, I've had some awful bosses. He’s a man of few words and, no, he never smiles,” a little giggle slipped through, “but I think he cares.”

“Ugh… I guess you’re right. You always talk me off the ledge.”

“At this point, I’m about to board up the damn window.”

“Oop!”

A laugh buzzed past Pearline’s lips, and she threw her hand over her mouth way too late. It was so quiet in the building, which only made it funnier. In a pitiful attempt to hold it together, Annie put her head down on her desk as they silently died in tandem. She looked up just in time to see a tear fall onto Pearline’s cheek and she lost it. She sprang up and spun her chair around, slapping her hand against her knee. It was getting harder and harder for her to stay halfway civil. Pearline had to go.

“Get out.”

“My break is over anyway. Bye.”

“And close my door.”

She disappeared and Annie was wiping her eyes when she caught a notification on her phone just as her screen was going dark. She got the rest of her giggles out and went to check it, but decided to finish the last few bites of her lunch first, thinking it would be her mom.

It was her beau.

Wear your hair up darling. And I wanna see that ass in a skirt. Show off all that pretty shit for me

She smiled down at her phone. Before she could stop herself, she was biting her lip.

i can do that

You know what ima do?

i got an idea but tell me anyway

She sat with bated breath, knowing he was about to mess her up. She could feel her body warming already.

Ima fuck you so good mama. I gotta let you feel how much I miss you

Just like that, her heart was about to jump out of her chest.

i miss you too baby

I want that pussy so bad I can already feel you gripping me. I can hear those sweet sounds you make when I’m sucking on your clit

Yearning dropped into the pit of her stomach and she squeezed her thighs together, trying her best to quell it. Of course that wasn’t enough. She looked up to make sure no one could see her falling apart. Damn those walls for being made of glass.

Smoke you know i’m at work. got me throbbing under this desk ife mi (my love)

Don't worry ima see bout that tonight

She put her head back on her chair and closed her eyes, sighing frustratedly. He had her so wet. And she still had half a shift left to work. She was also due back on the clock soon.

fuck my break is almost over, but wait until i get my hands on you

I’m ready

good. i got a little request for you too

Yeah?

leave your suit on. i wanna undress you myself. then i’m swallowing. every. inch!

Mmmm I look forward to it

@blackerthings @judymfmoody @lyrarodriguez @fendionmyfeet @fadingbelieverexpert @chaneajoyyy @astoldbychae @hotgrlcece @daddiespamm @lovethecheri @xo-goldengirl @miyuhpapayuh @buttrflybby @jiminie-08 @queengodiva619 @soufcakmistress @shiania @motheroffae @savagemickey03 @infinity2 @uhhh-nunyabidniz-heaux @deepinmydaydream -taglist-

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demie90s · 3 days ago

Text

That’s My Point Guard

꒰ 🍒 ꒱ PAIGE BUECKERS X READER ꒱ 🍒 ꒱ MASTERLIST

⭑ pairing: Paige Bueckers x fem!reader

⭑ summary: You’re out on injury reserve, but that doesn’t stop you from showing up post-game in full team wife mode—flowers, smug energy, and a crowd full of cameras catching it all.

⭑ genre: Fluff, chaos, public affection, team teasing

⭑ warnings: Slight language, unserious behavior, light PDA

⭑ word count: ~ 0.7k

The post-game press conference room was buzzing. Reporters scrambled, flashbulbs clicked, and Paige was already seated front and center, still glowing—sweaty curls pinned back, legs crossed like she didn’t just drop 20 and 10. UConn had just taken a hard-fought win, and she was calm, collected, politely answering questions like a pro.

Until the door opened again.

A beat passed before everyone turned their heads.

You walked in slow—still in your tracksuit, knee brace visible but not slowing your stride. In your arms? A ridiculous bouquet of flowers—tulips, roses, something that looked expensive and loud. You wore your shades indoors like you had somewhere better to be, even though you knew damn well you cleared your whole schedule just for this.

The cameras clicked faster. Paige glanced up—and for the first time in twenty minutes, she cracked.

A half-smile pulled at her lips, subtle, but real.

One of the reporters whispered, “Is that…?”

“Yeah,” another muttered, lowering their mic. “That’s her.”

You didn’t bother asking for a mic. You just walked over and slid in next to Paige like the seat had been reserved. You dropped the flowers into her lap and leaned toward the mic like you were the one getting interviewed.

“Just wanted to say congrats to my girl,” you said, voice smooth, unmoved. “Twenty points, ten assists, four ankles snatched, one heart fully owned.”

The room howled.

Paige tilted her head and bit back a smile, looking down at the flowers like they were offensive. “You are so unserious.”

“And yet, I still showed up with gifts,” you grinned. “Unlike some of these people in here asking weak-ass questions.”

Coach Geno from the side, half in frame: “Seriously.”

The UConn media staff looked like they wanted to speak up, but didn’t. The reporters were losing it—some were laughing, others just recording silently like they’d struck gold.

One brave soul asked, “Y/N, how’s recovery going?”

You leaned into the mic again like it owed you rent. “God’s strongest soldier, baby. Still cute. Still loyal. Still watching from the bench like a jealous wife. Couldn’t let her slay on court and not show up.”

The crowd laughed again. Paige just sighed and shook her head. “Can someone please get her out of here?”

“No,” you answered, straight-faced. “I’m the morale coach now. I motivate. I hydrate. I show up pretty with flowers. That’s all that matters.”

Another reporter asked Paige, “How do you feel about having such strong sideline support?”

You didn’t let her answer.

“Let me handle this, baby.” You turned, still facing forward.

“She loves it. I keep her humble. Make her smoothies. Post her highlights with corny captions like ‘mine fr’ and ’anyone else breathing can stop now.’ I’m what they call crucial support.”

The UConn team Instagram immediately posted a story:

📸: Y/N crashes Paige’s post-game like a true sideline baddie.

💬: “Crucial support.”

Someone from the back mumbled, “This is why she shouldn’t be mic’d ever again.”

Meanwhile, your girl tried to hide her laugh behind her hand. You could see her biting the inside of her cheek to stay composed.

Another reporter—clearly one of the brave ones—asked, “So… is this official now?”

You tilted your head. “Was it not?”

Paige leaned into the mic, voice dry. “It’s always been official. She’s just loud about it.”

You smirked like you’d just won something. “And don’t you forget it.”

Across the gym, the rest of the team was already texting the group chat:

📱 Ice: “Mom and Dad are fighting again but like… cute fighting.”

📱 KK: “Can someone mute Y/N. She’s hijacking the whole media session.”

📱 Ayanna: “Paige better propose with a ring AND a press pass.”

📱 Jana: “I need what they have. Minus the sass. Maybe.”

Later that night, the clip of you sliding into that press seat would hit TikTok and rack up over 200k likes in less than two hours.

The top comments:

👤 @uconndynasty: “nah this is couple GOALS”

👤 @ballislove: “I want someone to crash my life with flowers like this.”

👤 @benchwarmbaddie: “Still watching from the bench like a jealous wife is the quote of the

#paige buckets #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #paige bueckers #paige x oc #uconn x reader #dallas wings x reader #wnba x oc #wnba x reader #wnba imagine #wnba fanfic #wbb x oc #wbb imagine #wbb x reader

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vividseoultales · 2 days ago

Text

Little Sister ( Sullyoon x Male Reader )

tags : angst smut

"Hey, Sully," I called out as I tossed my backpack onto the couch, the jingle of keys and the thud of textbooks echoing through the quiet house.

My sister looked up from the TV, a half-eaten bag of chips in her lap. "Oh, you're home," she said, her eyes lighting up. "Want to watch 'Friends' with me?"

I hovered in the doorway, my thoughts racing. The rumors at school had been persistent, and they painted a picture of her that was so starkly different from the little girl I remembered playing hide and seek with. But as she sat there, in her oversized sweatshirt and shorts that barely covered her thighs, I couldn't help but notice the way her legs curled under her, the way she chewed on her bottom lip when she was nervous.

"What's up?" she asked, sensing the shift in my tone. She sat up straighter, the bag of chips falling to the floor unnoticed.

I stepped into the room, my eyes never leaving hers. "I've been hearing some…stuff, about you at school," I began, my voice measured. "Things that are a bit, you know, personal."

Sullyoon's expression froze, and she swallowed hard. The TV laugh track played in the background, a bizarre contrast to the sudden tension that filled the room. She looked down at her hands, playing with the hem of her sweatshirt. "What stuff?" she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

I took a deep breath, my eyes traveling over her body, taking in the way she'd grown, the curves she'd developed. "They say you're really…good at something," I said, my voice thick with the effort of keeping it neutral. "Something that's got all the guys talking."

Sullyoon's cheeks flushed, and she bit her bottom lip harder. "What are they saying?" she asked, her eyes darting to the side.

I stepped closer, my heart racing. "They say you know how to make a guy feel…really good," I said, my voice dropping an octave. "That you're…exceptional at it."

Sullyoon's eyes widened, and she swiped a strand of hair from her face. "It's just…stupid rumors," she protested, but her voice wavered, and she couldn't hold my gaze.

I walked over to the TV and turned it off with a sharp click. The sudden silence was deafening. "Is it?" I asked, my eyes never leaving hers. "Because if it's true, then you're pretty popular."

Sullyoon's cheeks burned even redder, and she squirmed in her seat. "It's just…I don't know, it just sort of happened," she mumbled, looking away.

I stepped closer, unable to believe what I was hearing. "How?" I demanded, my voice a mix of anger and fascination. "How did you become the school's…expert?"

Sullyoon took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling beneath the fabric of her sweatshirt. "It was at a party," she began, her voice small and shaky. "A bunch of the senior guys dared me to suck off the school's jock. It was just a stupid bet."

Her words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of the revelation. I stared at her, trying to process the image of my baby sister doing something so…adult. "That's all it was?" I managed to ask, not quite believing the simplicity of her explanation.

Sullyoon nodded, her eyes still downcast. "Yeah," she murmured. "It was just that one time. But then, people talked, and it just…spiraled."

I stared at her, taking in her delicate features, the way her lashes fluttered against her flushed cheeks. Her plump, pink lips, the same ones that had apparently been wrapped around the jock's dick, now trembled slightly with apprehension. My mind reeled, trying to reconcile the innocent girl I knew with the brazen teenager she'd apparently become.

"You're not going to tell Mom and Dad, are you?" she asked, her voice a desperate whisper. She looked up at me, her eyes wide and pleading.

Without a word, I took a step closer and reached out my hand. Gently, I brushed my thumb along the bottom part of her lip, feeling the softness of her skin and the slight dampness from her nervousness. She didn't pull away, but she did look at me with annoyance

"Oppa," she said, her voice a warning.

Ignoring her, I leaned in closer, my hand still hovering near her face. "You know what, Sully?" I said, my voice low and serious. "I'll make you a deal. I won't tell Mom and Dad…if you do me a favor."

Her eyes narrowed, and she pulled away slightly. "I'm your little sister oppa" her voice filled with suspicion.

"I know," I said, my tone unyielding. "But you're also the one who's got all the guys at school whispering about you."

Sullyoon's eyes darted down to my hand, and she took a sharp intake of breath as I slowly pulled down my shorts. My cock sprang free, semi-erect from the tension of the moment. The room grew even quieter, the only sounds the steady beat of our hearts and the occasional rustle of fabric as one of us moved slightly. She stared at it.

"I'm your little sister" she repeated, her voice a mix of confusion and fear.

"I know," I said again, my hand resting on my cock. "But I want to see if you're as good as they say."

For a long moment, we just stared at each other, the weight of my proposition hanging between us. Then, with a heavy sigh, Sullyoon leaned back into the couch cushions, her eyes never leaving mine. Her chest rose and fell with each breath, and I could see the internal battle playing out on her face. The curiosity in her gaze grew stronger, and she licked her lips, unconsciously mimicking the action she knew was expected of her.

Slowly, she slid off the couch, her bare knees hitting the floor with a soft thud. She leaned in closer, her breath hot on my skin as she studied my cock with a newfound fascination. I watched as she reached out tentatively, her small hand wrapping around the base, her grip tightening slightly as she began to stroke it. My eyes fell closed, and a low groan escaped my lips.

Her movements grew bolder as she took me into her mouth, the warm wetness enveloping me. Her tongue swirled around the tip, teasing and probing, exploring the contours of my shaft as she took more and more of me in. I felt her throat constrict around me, and my hips bucked slightly in response.

Sullyoon's eyes remained locked with mine, watching for any sign of approval or rejection. Her cheeks hollowed with each suck, her mouth moving in a rhythm that was surprisingly skilled for someone so young. Her hand kept working the base of my cock, her fingers playing with my balls as she took me deeper into her mouth.

I could feel the tension in her throat as she took more of me, her eyes watering slightly. Yet she didn't gag or pull away, her mouth moving steadily, almost as if she enjoyed the feeling of having me fill her. My hand found its way into her hair, guiding her, setting the pace. Her cheeks flushed, and she made soft, muffled sounds of effort that only served to turn me on more.

The room grew warmer, the air thick with the scent of our shared arousal. My eyes fluttered shut, and I leaned my head back, lost in the sensation of her mouth on me. Her tongue danced around the head of my cock, teasing the sensitive spot just under the tip, and I couldn't hold back the groan that escaped my lips.

Her hand, which had been stroking me in tandem with her mouth, stopped moving, and she focused all her attention on deep-throating me. The feeling was exquisite, and I felt myself getting closer to the edge with each passing second. My grip on her hair tightened, and I gently rocked my hips, pushing deeper into her mouth.

Sullyoon's eyes watered more, but she didn't break our eye contact. Instead, she took it as a challenge, her eyes blazing with a mix of defiance and excitement. She started to bob her head faster, taking me in deeper with each bob. I could feel her throat contract around my cock, and the sensation was unlike anything I had ever experienced before.

With a sudden urgency, I pulled out of her mouth, my hand moving to grip the base of my cock. She looked up at me, slightly surprised, her mouth open and glistening with spit. "What are you doing?" she whispered, her voice hoarse.

"I'm going to cum," I told her, my voice tight with need.

Sullyoon's eyes widened slightly, but she didn't move away. Instead, she leaned in closer, watching with a mix of curiosity and anticipation as I began to stroke myself. Her breath came in quick, shallow gasps, her eyes never leaving the hand that moved up and down my shaft. She was so close that I could feel her breath against my skin, hot and eager.

As I stroked myself, I felt the pressure build, my balls tightening, the base of my cock swelling. I took a deep breath and let it out in a hiss, and with a final, powerful thrust of my hips, I painted her face with ropes of cum. She blinked as the first shot landed on her cheek, but she didn't flinch. Instead, she leaned in even closer, her tongue darting out to catch a drop that slid down from my cockhead to her lip.

Sullyoon's eyes remained fixed on mine, a strange mix of curiosity and desire swirling in their depths. She licked her lips clean, swiping up every last bit of my cum with a greedy flick of her tongue. Then she reached out and wiped a strand of cum that had landed on her cheek. She held it up to show me before slowly sucking it off her finger.

"Happy?" she asked, her voice laced with sarcasm as she wiped the last of my cum from her cheek with the back of her hand.

I nodded, still trying to catch my breath. "More than you know," I replied, my voice gruff with arousal.

I took a step back, my cock still in my hand, and grinned down at her. "I want you to come to my room tonight," I said, my voice low and demanding. "When everyone's asleep."

Sullyoon rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth twitched upwards slightly. "Fine," she said, her voice laced with resignation. "I don't want you to tell Mom and Dad."

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of tension. We avoided each other's gaze, the unspoken promise hanging between us. Dinner was a silent affair, our parents oblivious to the secret we now shared. Every time I looked at her, I couldn't help but think about the way she'd looked up at me from between my legs, her eyes filled with a mix of anger, fear, and something else that I couldn't quite pinpoint.

Later that night, after our parents had retreated to their room and the house had settled into darkness, I heard the soft click of my door opening. I lay on my bed, stroking my already hard cock as I waited for her to come in. The mattress dipped slightly as she sat down beside me, the quiet rustle of her pajamas the only sound in the stillness.

"You're really going to do this?" she whispered, her voice a mix of annoyance and resentment. I didn't bother to answer, instead choosing to guide her head down to my erection with a firm but gentle hand. She resisted slightly before letting out a huff and wrapping her lips around me once more.

Her mouth was a warm, wet heaven, and she applied just the right amount of pressure as she took me deep into her throat. It was clear she'd had practice, her technique smoother than any girl I'd been with before. The way she moaned around my cock, the vibrations sending shockwaves through my body, was something I never knew could be so erotic.

I could feel her hesitation, the slight tremble in her hand as she held the base of my cock, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she took me in deeper, her cheeks hollowing as she worked me over with a fervor that surprised me. The feeling was indescribable, and I found myself getting lost in the sensation, my grip on her hair tightening as I pushed her head down even further.

"Sully," I gasped, my voice tight with lust. "Want me to fuck you?"

Her eyes darted up to meet mine, an eyebrow arching in annoyance. But she didn't pull away from my cock, didn't stop the steady bob of her head. Instead, she just rolled her eyes and took me even deeper, her throat tightening around my shaft.

I paused, my hand in her hair. "I'm serious, Sully," I said, my voice low and intense. "Do you want me to fuck you?"

Sullyoon pulled back, her mouth slipping off my cock with a wet pop. She sat back on her heels, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "No, this is as far as we go oppa" she hissed.

I grabbed her by the arms, pulling her up onto the bed. She squealed in protest, but I ignored her, my desperation overruling any sense of propriety I might have had. I pushed her back onto the pillows, her legs dangling over the edge of the bed.

"Oppa, stop!" she protested, trying to wriggle away, but I held her firmly in place. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Her legs felt warm and smooth beneath my hands as I spread them apart, revealing the damp cotton of her pajamas. I leaned in, my breath hot against her skin, and whispered, "I don't think you're being honest with me"

Sullyoon's eyes flashed with anger, but she didn't resist as I slid my hand up her thigh, my thumb grazing the fabric of her pajamas. Her chest heaved with each ragged breath, her nipples pushing against the thin material of her top. I could feel the heat between her legs, and it only served to make me harder.

"You're wet," I murmured, a smirk playing on my lips. "Does sucking me off make you hot?"

Sullyoon's cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red, and she glared up at me. But she didn't deny it, her body betraying her true feelings. I slid my thumb under the waistband of her pajamas, feeling the slickness of her arousal. She bit her bottom lip, trying to hold back a whimper, but the sound still escaped, music to my ears.

I leaned down, my mouth inches from hers. "You like it, don't you?" I whispered, my breath warm against her skin.

I pushed her pajama pants down, revealing her bare, shaved pussy. It was pink and swollen with desire, and I couldn't help but groan at the sight. "So beautiful," I murmured, my voice thick with lust.

Sullyoon's eyes widened with a mix of shock and excitement as I leaned down to kiss her inner thigh, her legs trembling slightly. "Oppa," she protested weakly, but her body was already responding, arching towards me.

My mouth watered as I took in the sweet scent of her arousal, and I knew that she was lying. She liked this, she liked the power she had over me, and she liked the way I was making her feel. I kissed my way up her thigh, closer to her wetness, and she gasped when I finally reached the apex.

Her pussy was glistening with need, and I couldn't resist the urge to taste her. I licked her slit from bottom to top, savoring the tangy taste of her. She tasted like sin, and I was eager to devour every inch of her. Her protests had turned into whimpers, and she was now grabbing fistfuls of my hair, urging me closer.

I parted her folds with my tongue, finding her clit and flicking it rapidly. She squirmed and bucked her hips, trying to escape the intense pleasure, but I held her down, eager to hear the sweet sounds of her climax. Her breath came in short gasps, her chest rising and falling as I worked her closer to the edge.

"Oh, fuck," she whispered, her voice strained. "Oppa, please…I'm going to…"

Her words trailed off into a moan as I increased the pressure, my tongue circling her clit with a practiced skill that seemed to surprise even her. Her legs quivered around my head, her thighs tightening as she approached the peak of her pleasure.

"Don't hold back," I murmured against her wetness, feeling her body tense up. "Let it out."

And with that, she did. Her back arched off the bed, and she let out a keening cry as her orgasm washed over her. Her hips bucked, pushing her pussy into my mouth, and I greedily lapped up every drop of her juices, feeling her pulsate against my tongue. Her nails dug into the back of my head, and she shuddered, her legs finally going limp.

I sat back on my heels, watching her as she lay there, panting and trembling. Her chest heaved, and her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glazed over with pleasure. I couldn't believe it - she was so responsive, so eager for more. And the look on her face - it was a mix of anger and lust that only made me want to fuck her even harder.

Without a word, I stood up and kicked off my pants, my cock standing at full attention. Sullyoon watched me with a mix of trepidation and excitement, her legs still spread wide, her pussy glistening with arousal. She didn't protest as I climbed over her, settling my weight between her thighs, and she didn't fight as I lined up my cock with her entrance.

Her eyes searched mine for a moment, looking for any hint of doubt or regret, but all she found was a burning desire that mirrored her own. With a gentle push, I slid into her, feeling her tight, wet warmth envelop me. She gasped, her nails digging into my back as I pushed deeper, filling her completely.

Our movements were slow at first, both of us savoring the newness of this forbidden act. Her legs wrapped around my waist, and she pulled me closer, urging me to move faster. The friction was exquisite, and I couldn't help the low growl that rumbled in my chest as I began to pick up the pace.

"Show me your tits," I grunted, my voice gruff with need.

Sullyoon's eyes flashed with excitement as she reached for the hem of her pajama top. With a quick pull, she exposed her breasts to the cool air, and I couldn't help but groan at the sight. They were smaller than I had imagined, but the perkiness of her nipples and the way they bounced with each of my thrusts made them seem so much more tantalizing.

"Like this?" she asked, her voice filled with a coyness that was entirely new to me.

Sullyoon reached up and pinched her own nipples, rolling them between her thumb and forefinger. I could see the pleasure rippling through her body, her breath hitching as she tugged at the sensitive flesh. "No," I said, my voice thick with lust. "I want to see them in your mouth."

Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn't hesitate. She leaned back, her back arching beautifully, and took one of her nipples into her mouth. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked, her hand still playing with her other breast. The sight was intoxicating, and I couldn't hold back a groan. "More," I urged, my hips driving into her with more force.

Her teeth grazed her nipple, and she moaned around it. The feeling was unbelievable, and I found myself getting closer to the edge much faster than I'd anticipated. "You like that, don't you?" I whispered, my voice strained with effort. "You're such a little slut."

Sullyoon's eyes shot to mine, anger and arousal swirling in their depths. But she didn't deny it. Instead, she sucked harder, her cheeks hollowing even more as she played with herself. The sight of her doing something so taboo, so dirty, was almost too much to handle.

I picked up the pace, my cock sliding in and out of her slick pussy with ease. Each thrust brought a gasp from her, her body writhing beneath me in a delicious dance of pleasure and pain. Her eyes never left mine, challenging me to go deeper, to push her further.

"Harder," she murmured, her voice a needy whine. "Fuck me like you mean it, oppa."

Her words sent a bolt of lust through me, and I did as she asked, pounding into her with a ferocity that surprised even me. Her pussy clamped down around me, tightening with every thrust, and I could feel the beginnings of her next orgasm building.

"Yes," I hissed, my hips moving faster. "Take it, take it all."

Sullyoon's eyes fluttered shut as she focused on the sensations building inside her. Her breath was coming in short, sharp gasps that matched the rhythm of our fucking. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, echoing off the walls like a carnally charged metronome.

I could feel myself getting closer, my balls tightening with the promise of release. "I'm going to cum," I grunted, my voice a mix of warning and triumph.

Sullyoon's eyes snapped open, and she met my gaze, her own eyes dark with lust. "Cum for me, oppa," she breathed, her voice a seductive whisper that sent shivers down my spine.

Her pussy tightened around me, and I knew she was close too. My strokes grew more erratic, my breath coming in harsh pants as I felt my climax building. The sensation was overwhelming, and I threw my head back, letting out a roar of pleasure as I emptied myself inside her.

Sullyoon's nails dug into my back, her body taut with tension as she met my thrusts. And then she was there too, her orgasm crashing over her in waves that made her whole body shake. Her pussy spasmed around my cock, milking me dry, and I couldn't help but groan as she came apart beneath me.

We lay there for a moment, both of us panting and sweaty, our hearts hammering against each other. I pulled out slowly, watching as my cum leaked from her and pooled on the bed. It was a mess, but it was the most beautiful mess I'd ever seen.

Sullyoon rolled onto her side, her eyes closed, her chest heaving. "What now?" she murmured, her voice laced with a mix of satisfaction and trepidation.

I leaned over her, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. "Now, we keep this between us," I said, my voice gentle but firm. "Our little secret."

Her eyes fluttered open, and she stared at me for a long moment, processing my words. Then she nodded, her expression unreadable. "Okay," she murmured, her voice still laced with the aftermath of her climax.

With a smirk, I leaned back, letting her catch her breath. The smell of sex filled the room, a heady mix of sweat and arousal that only served to make me harder. "You're going to love this," I whispered, the promise in my voice unmistakable.

#kpop fanfic #smut #gg smut #kpop smut #nmixx smut #sullyoon smut #male reader smut

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wandasaura · 14 hours ago

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ALL BORN SUPERSTARS

summary — you don’t always have the luxury of choosing who you love in life, and your boys are leaning that through your prime example

warning(s)— established relationships, slight au themes, lesbians, dom-ish!wanda maximoff, discussions of homophobia, premature coming out, parenting moments, domestic fluff, typical third-grade boy behavior, kitchen sex, fingering, praise kink, sweet talk, pet names, nipple stimulation, orgasms, finger sucking, pride flags, school holiday cards, inner child healing moments, family dynamics, billy and tommy maximoff, men/minors dni

authors note— oh mom wanda, you have my entire heart. pride fic pride fic pride fic. enjoy !

“Billy! The bus is not going to wait for you again!” Your voice carries up the stairs of your two-story house that had once felt so lavish and grand beneath your fingertips, but with two growing boys slowly taking up more and more space that you don’t seem to have, the interior is beginning to feel suffocating even on the days where Wanda managed to keep the living room intact until after school.

Tommy swings his feet at the island, taking another bite of the waffle Wanda had lathered in with nutella as he listens to your call for his twin who hasn’t marched down the stairs yet despite you going in to wake them up an hour ago. You’d heard him get out of bed and pad across the hallway with his typical excitement and restless energy, you’d even heard the shower start without having to remind him that he’d opted out of one last night, but he’d never come back downstairs, and it never sounded like he padded back to his room either.

“What’s he doing up there?” Wanda asks Tommy, laughing softly beneath her breath as she watches you shake your head in exasperation, calling Billy’s name again with no answer.

Tommy shrugs his shoulders, ripping off another hunk of waffle with his teeth. Wanda had placed a fork and a knife right beside him, but he’d yet to pick either up, his fingers coated in this hazelnut spread and crumbs. “I dunno. He brought Mama’s nail polish in there with him.”

“Why did he need my nail polish?” Your eyebrows furrow, drawing inward as you catch your title falling off of Tommy’s lips, his mouth still full of waffles and making it challenging to piece together the broken English he mutters haphazardly.

“I dunno.” Tommy shrugs, rolling his eyes as he reaches for the glass of milk that you’d poured on request. It was always a gamble of whether they were going to want orange juice or milk, and if they both happened to want different things, it was the question of who wanted what. Very rarely could they do anything the same way to make yours and Wanda’s lives easier, and very rarely could they keep their individual interests separate from each other without eventually adopting the others preference. Tommy had once been your orange juice loving boy, always begging to make it himself with the ones he picks from Agatha’s tree, but in the last three weeks he’s consumed more milk than you can afford in this economy. Billy’s been your one on an orange juice kick, downing at least two glasses in the morning before he climbs on the bus. ”It’s pride today, right?” He perks up, suddenly remembering the date as his eyes glance at the calendar Wanda keeps on the back door.

You have a soccer game on Saturday and two baseball games on Sunday, and your following week is littered with practices for both sports and their yearly orthodontist appointment, but his eyes find something smaller, a little pink heart on the left hand side of the 28th both, a day the symbolizes the official start of yours and Wanda’s relationship ten years ago.

“Well, it’s pride for the whole month. It just starts today.” You mused, remembering the list of June’s activities that had been sent home with the boys last week. Rainbows had been splashed across the news letter, a bit on the nose, but it comforted you to know your boys were being raised in an inclusive environment when they weren’t just with you.

”Is Agatha going to have that big float at the parade again?” Tommy asks, recalling last years pride parade that ended with Agatha Vidal standing in the center of her own twelve-foot float. It was extravagant, out of budget, and entirely reflective of her own personal interests rather than the communities, but Tommy and Billy had both been talking about it nonstop since.

A burp bubbled up from his belly, and both you and Wanda sent him deadpanned stares, wondering how he’d adopted such boyish qualities being raised in a house with two lesbians. He laughed brightly, only shoveling another bite of waffle into his mouth instead of excusing himself like he knew you and Wanda wanted.

You didn’t have time to dwell on Tommy’s mannerisms because Billy came padding down the stairs finally, his hair wet and hanging over his eyes, his outfit no different than what he normally wears on a daily basis. You can’t figure out what had kept him up there for so long until you notice the splotches of multi-colored paint of his fingernails, each one a different shade taken directly from the rainbow.

“I’m bisexual.” He smiled proudly up at you, and Wanda froze behind the island, her eyes wide as she looked at him with shock making up her expression. Your open jaw slackened before you regain your composure, nodding slowly as you took in the serious gleam in Billy’s eyes.

“Do you know what that means?” You ask him simply, n leaning against the island as you smack Tommy’s thigh, warning him to get back to eating instead of staring at his brother like he’s an alien on earth.

“Yeah. It means I like boys and girls. Rio told me that.” He rolled his eyes like that was the obvious answer, and you licked your lips as it washed over you. Have kids, they said. It’ll be fun, they said. Nobody warned you about elementary schoolers coming out at seven in the morning before you had them though.

“I— Okay.” You nodded, because you knew for sure and well that his definition of ‘like’ meant that he’d be willing to play Fortnite with them if Wanda permitted the extra screen time. “And why did Rio tell you that?”

”Because he was listening to her conversation with Agatha yesterday!” Tommy blurted and Billy whined, throwing a death glare at his brother who shamelessly ratted him out. “Agatha was telling Rio that she’s bisexual because they were trying to pick shirts for the parade. Can we get shirts?”

“I…” You glanced back at Wanda, entirely speechless that you were having this conversation so early in the morning or at all. “Yes, we can have matching shirts this year. Billy, being bisexual means more than just wanting to be friends with boys and girls.”

“Oh.” Billy frowned, and Wanda laughed softly, shaking her head as she plated up another waffle spread with a layer of nutella, but Billy’s had peanut butter lathered on top too. “Okay.” He shrugged, and while it bothered you that he hadn’t even given you a chance to explain any further, you weren’t complaining about evading this conversation for another couple of years.

“Are you sure you want to go to school with your nails painted?” Wanda asked him softly when she lured him over to the table, setting a glass of orange juice down on the counter without asking if that’s even what he wanted. You’d run out of time for personal and preferences ten minutes ago.

“Yeah. It’s pride.” Billy nodded simply, taking the waffle between his fingers and biting into it the same messy way that Tommy did, ignoring the silverware that Wanda inevitably wasted time setting out.

She’s still in her pajamas, still sporting only the thin pink shorts and white t-shirt she’d been wearing last night. Her nipples harden though the thin fabric, a detail so minuscule you don’t even think she recognizes it as she moves through the kitchen, zipping lunch boxes, folding homework, getting water bottles in order, all while balancing a conversation with your nine-year-old who doesn’t look at all interested.

“I know it's pride, honey, but Mama can’t pick you up from school early today. So, if somebody says something mean about your nail polish, you’re going to have to deal with it.” It sounds harsh, and it hurts your heart to hear it, but neither one of you are prepared to send Billy into a battlefield blind even if Westviews the most accepting town you’d resided in. There are still horrors out on the street that hate the very existence of your boys just because they have two Moms. You’re not ready to hand them over to that evil yet. To let them find out fully how hated you are just because you were lucky enough to find genuine love in Wanda’s company.

“Why would they say something mean?” Tommy butts in, his eyes furrowed together in confusion you wish you had longer to protect fully.

“Well, people are mean about all kinds of things sometimes. Some point think only girls can paint their nails, and some people think only boys can wear blue or play fortnite. Not everything is going to think it’s cool that Billy painted his nails.”

“I don’t care.” Billy shrugged, ripping off another mouthful of waffle that he immediately chased with a gulp of orange juice. At nine-years-old, neither of the boys have learned how to eat breakfast at a normal enough pace to avoid backwash in their drinks, and nine years into parenting later it still unsettles you just as much as it did in the first year of their lives.

“I’ll protect him if anyone says anything mean! Aunt Yelena taught me how to make a really good fist!” Tommy bubbles, recalling the last time Yelena and Natasha had made a trip out from Manhattan to come and see the boys on Halloween.

“You don’t punch anyone unless they punch you first.” Wanda warns, and you laugh at her acceptance of violence if it’s warranted. You didn’t have to wonder how she’d gotten to be so hard hearted at times, you knew the sob story of her life and the blood that stains her hands even if none of the deaths that haunt her were her fault, but it still amazes you how somebody so gentle and soft can be an absolute reckoning.

“Oh! The bus is here!” Billy gasps when he hears the ties screech outside, jumping off of the stool after he shoved the last bit of waffle into his mouth. He didn’t even glance down at his nails in a moment of hesitation before he grabbed his prepped backpack off the table and booked it around to counter to hug Wanda’s waist and then yours.

Tommy was next, following Billy out of the house with an enthusiastic, “Bye Mommy! Bye Mama!’

The second they were gone, the front door closed, the bus pulling away and out of sight once the doors were closed and both boys were sitting down in a seat, you inched toward Wanda, wrapping your arms around her waist and squeezing tight as you sank into her.

“I hope he has a good day.” You voice your worry into the pit of her neck, your words vibrating her skin that’s still flush and warm from the hours of uninterrupted sleep she’d gotten beneath your head and body weight.

“We can’t shield them forever, detka.” Wanda reminds you painfully, her eyes filled with delicate conflation that fills your heart with the same emotional pause. These are your babies, your precious boys. It pains you to know that just loving them paints a target on their backs. A million steps forward in society and still not enough to recognize you and Wanda as equals anywhere you stepped.

“They’re still so little.” You whisper, wondering where your babies had gone, even though they were still just little boys in this big world. They still slept in beds with race car sheets, they still requested bedtime stories and new light bulbs in their respective nightlights. They were still yours to protect, not feed to the wolves and the cold blooded haters in the world on a silver platter. “I can call off my meeting. Get some chores done around here, make sure he doesn’t need someone to pick him up.”

“You’re not rescheduling again. The first time was because Tommy had the flu, and then Billy had pink eye, and then they both had bronchitis. This meeting will never get finished if you keep pushing it off. And if he really needs us, I can move my session with Mrs. Hart to tomorrow. Okay?” Wanda asked, but when you didn’t answer, your thoughts stuck on Billy getting cornered by someone bigger than him, Wanda grabbed at your chin, guiding your attention back to her. “Okay?”

“Okay.” You whispered, getting lost in her endless green eyes. She smiled wickedly, her pink lips curving upwards into a cunning grin as she analyzed your features that were slowly turning dark with lust as she pulled your thoughts away from the kids and onto her and only her.

“You’ve been undressing me all morning.” She notes, letting you know that your ogling hadn’t been as discreet as you’d initially thought. Your eyes flickered down to her nipples at the reminder of their pebbled state, your fingers latching onto them tantalizingly as you pinched and pulled. Wanda gasped, her head thrown back as the sensations of pleasure took her by surprise. “I thought that’s what got you going.” She hummed, drawing a finalized conclusion now that your touch was clawing at her through the fabric of her t-shirt. ”Was last night not enough for you? You were asleep before I even came out of the bathroom.”

“Because somebody pulled four orgasms out of me before they even took the strap out.” You rebutted, defending yourself against her even though it was futile. Wanda grinned at the memory of last night, keeping you quiet with only her fingers and her mouth when they weren’t ravishing your core. The boys were down the hall, both soundly asleep, unaware of how you chose to ring in pride with your wife, and the horror of waking them up kept you quiet in the moments that nothing filled your mouth.

“Are you complaining?” She sings, trailing her fingers down your arms, curling them into the hem of your top. She lets the fabric lift just slightly, her fingertips ghosting over your skin as she presses you against the island countertop.

”Never.” You grinned, looping your arms around her neck and pulling her into a passionate kiss that conveys all of the emotions you’ll never be able to name. Wanda groans when your teeth sink into her bottom lip, pulling it away before you let it pop with a grin. ”I have twenty minutes before I need to get in the shower.” You breathe against her lips, and Wanda needs no further invitation to feel you against her fingers before you have to comply with the day's set schedule.

“I only need ten.” She mutters cockily, tapping your thigh with three fingers until you widen your stance, spinning around until your belly is facing the brunt of the pressure from the edge of the counter digging into soft skin. You don’t have to ask how Wanda wants you, after so many years of spontaneous sex anywhere but your bedroom, you just know how she likes your body positioned for specific encounters. “Fuck, you’re so wet already.” She gasps when her fingers probe the hem of your panties and sleep shorts, the loose material allowing her fingers access without much hassle or maneuvering. The restriction of the fabric against your clit is intoxicating, but it gets even better when she shifts her fingers and lets two digits rub circles around your clit.

“Well when you look at me like that wearing that…” You trail off, your voice high and light as her fingers spark pleasure, wetness dripping from your hole as you clench around nothing, begging for something more that she’s not ready to give you yet.

Wanda bubbles with laughter, because if you were thinking clearly, you’d remember that Billy had gifted her these pajamas for Mother’s day, and the image of his excited face would ruin the mood instantly. “Okay, detka.” She concedes, pressing a kiss into the back of your neck before she eases a finger into your tight walls and then another. She doesn’t push three, doesn’t even seem like she wants to go that hard right now, she just wants to connect with you in a way she’s legally allowed to, something she still can’t do in Sokovia. “You take me so well.”

You groan, dropping your forehead to rest on your forearms on the counter as she works your walls open, her knuckles curling until she’s pressing into that spot inside of you that makes you head spin and your pulse quicken. “Fuck, Wands. Right there.”

“Good girl.” Wanda praises, and that only further does your head in, a pathetic whimper crawling up your throat as your fingers claw at the countertops, trying to find something to brace yourself on as pleasure comes crashing over you before you can warn her. The sensitivity of last night wrecks you in tandem with her gentle thrusts to ease you through the aftermath of your climax, and you scramble to push her hand away when it becomes too much, your chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. ”Clean them.” She demands softly, spinning you around and feeding you her fingers with a pleased smile on her lips.

When she’s satisfied, pulling her digits away, she grins, glancing at the clock on the wall. “Three minutes to spare. Sit down and have a waffle.” She demands and you can only oblige with the request, never dreaming of going against her simple wishes when complying gets you exactly where you are now.

There wasn’t any need to panic about Billy, because when he’d stumbled home from school, half of the nail polish already chipping off and clinging to his sweatshirt, he beamed brightly and told you that Jack thought his nails were cool, and that he was going to ask his sister to paint his red the next time she pulled all her bottle of varnish out. Wanda had grinned and embraced him tightly, glad to see that her warning had been for nothing rather than a necessary preparation.

“Oh! And we made you these at recess. There’s bees on the playground so we stayed inside.” Billy bubbled, pulling out of Wanda’s embrace to dig through his backpack. Tommy grinned with him, following his lead as he unzipped the Mario bag he’d insisted on getting and pulled out a folded piece of green construction paper. Billy’s was blue, and he handed it to Wanda with a proud smile while Tommy handed you his.

‘Happy Pride’ was written in the worst chicken starch handwritten you’d seen, but it warms your heart to see his little writing all scratched out in crayon in front of a picture of four stick figures and a purple heart. Wanda’s red head was colored with marker, twirling strands of red lines forming her wonky circle head. The detail to the green of her eyes stuck with you, and you turned a smile on Tommy as you wrestled him into your embrace, tickling his ribs and kissing all over his face until he huffed and shoved you away.

“Thank you, buddy.” Wanda smiled at Billy, holding a hand out for your card without a word. She put them on the fridge with two Mickey shaped magnets, and Billy and Tommy high-fived with pride as they analyzed their work. “Go get changed. We have time for grilled cheese before practice.” Wanda instructed, already falling into the standard after school routine.

You smiled at her from across the kitchen when the boys ran upstairs, their backpacks forgotten about on the floor. “How did we get so lucky?”

“A few thousand hundred thousand dollars and a good sperm donor?” Wanda teases, but you know she’s just as speechless as you when it comes to your boys and their lightness in your lives. “I love you.” You hum, still dressed in your work clothes, itching to be let out of your slacks and leather shoes.

“I love you.” Wanda hums back, pecking your lips before she taps your hip and points upstairs. “You too. Upstairs. Go get changed.” She commands and you laugh, stealing one last kiss before you turn on your heels.

“Yes ma’am.” You utter with a silly salute, wondering how you’d ever been lucky enough to find her and built this life from scratch at all.

#wanda maximoff #dom!wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #dom!wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff oneshot #billy maximoff #tommy maximoff #minors dni ৎ୭

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miiyas · 2 days ago

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“i’m alright, mom. i’m still unpacking, but things are comfortable … yes, i’m eating well.” suguru shifts his weight, leaning back as one arm props him up and the other holds the phone close to his ear. the honey smooth voice of his worried mother cracks a smile on his lips, eyes drifting to the stacked boxes in front of him.

his mother is rambling on and on about something suguru isn’t too sure about. his mind drifts to the moment he’s in now and with a gentle caress of his finger to the cardboard boxes, he hears his mother make a conclusion to her own worrisome mind.

then, there was a sudden mention of your name from her. sugurus eyes widen slightly as he turns his head towards his shoji doors, as if you were there waiting for him on the other side, waiting for him to open it.

his mother seems far more concerned with you then she is with him and it makes him chuckle. despite moving in far earlier than the average first year, you had followed him. you’re like a shadow, always beside him and always going along with his plan of things.

“.. she’s doing fine,” suguru sighs, his face wrinkling slightly as he tries to surpass the smile tugging further up his lips. “she’s getting comfortable, yes. yes, mom, she still has the hairpin you gave her, she’s wearing it now, don’t worry.” he sighs and lets out a soft chuckle, ears picking up the quiet slide of the shoji doors from next door. he can hear your silent footsteps making way in the halls, echoing against the wooden floors.

“suguru,” you sing out, footsteps getting closer and closer before you haphazardly slid open the thin doors, heading popping in. “i finished decorating ! you wanna see ?” your face spread with an infectious grin before noticing the phone pressed against his ear, making your eyes widen and your smile drop slightly, wincing slightly.

“bad timing ?”

suguru blinks and laughs, leaning against his arms more. “nah, my mother is just calling.” he can see the smile on your face regrow and if not wider. you rush in and sit beside him, creeping your face closer to his ear, cheeks tinting red at the excitement of things.

”geto san ! this place is amazing !” you laugh and suguru casually hands you his phone, expression softening impossibly more as you gush on about how big the school is and how excited you are to meet the other first years.

the hairpin tucked neatly behind your ear shines in the soft rays of the sun making its way into the room and gosh, you were glowing. maybe it’s because of the casual wear that both you and him are wearing and the fact that you were in his room talking with his mother on his phone, but everything seemed so … domestic.

“we’ll get you lots of omiyage. yes, for both of you,” you laugh and extend your legs, laying them atop of sugurus thighs with much thought. you lean back with one arm propping you up, head throwing back slightly as you let out another laugh, denying something suguru has no clue about.

“we’ll get situated just fine, geto san,” you hum, lips thinning into a soft smile before you hand the phone back to suguru, head tilting to the side gently.

suguru is silent for a moment, listening to what his mother has to say for him before he sighs. his eyes dart to you for a moment, smiling with his eyes before he looks up his window.

“… i’m not gonna be doing that. we’re still kids. it’s too early,” he chuckles out, only to be scolded slightly from the other side of the line. he only sighs and shakes his head, watching you lay on his floor, arms spread like a star and legs still on top of his.

“hmm … she wants to show me her room. i’ll call you back later.” from his peripheral vision, he could see your eyes shine and head tilt up to see him.

“mhm, take care. tell dad i said hi,” he watches you crunch your stomach and sit up, shoulders brushing his as you smile and say your goodbyes. the other line rings and it sounds like his mother is crying, but she hangs up soon after.

“hey, let’s go check out my room ! then, i can help you decorate yours.” you tug on the sleeve of sugurus t-shirt, a hand gripping onto his shoulders to pry you up and on your feet. a breathless chuckle escapes his lips as he gets up himself, sliding his phone and hands into his pockets, following sluggishly behind you as you patter to the room next to him. it reminds him of the time when you were his neighbor back at home, telling him to come over to play and hangout.

despite it all, new environment and new people, suguru thinks nothing much has changed. he can get used to this.

oh, suguru. i miss you so much

#jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #suguru geto #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #suguru x reader #suguru x you #geto x reader #geto x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #atlas writes !

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beardedhotchner · 13 hours ago

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Little Voice, Big Word

A/N: Hi, this is my first fic that I've posted. I hope you guys enjoy, Amia xx

Beta'd by: My Sister-Wife, @readbyreid <3 love ya

Summary: The first three times Jack calls Reader 'Mom'

T/W: Mention of Haley, fem!Reader, Reader refered to as Mom, David Rossi (papa pasta)

The first time Jack Hotchner calls you 'Mom' you think you've misheard him. You're not entirely sure he said it, so you don't bring it to attention. Standing in your kitchen with flour covering the pair of you and the counters (thanks to Jack's ingenuity to play with the sieve), the small boy was having the time of his life.

The attempt at baking cookies long forgotten, Jack more focused on making a mess now. He giggles loudly as his father and your new husband, Aaron, glared at you both playfully. He sighs to himself, stepping into the hall closet to grab the vacuum.

That's when Jack says it. Off the cuff, not even really focusing on his words, he just laughs as he says, "Dad is so tired of us, Mom." With his words broken by laughter and your back to him as you wash your hands, you're sure he didn't say it. So you don't mention it.

Even later on, in bed with Aaron, you don't say anything because you're adamant. No. Jack has a mom. She may not be here with him anymore. But Haley is his mom. Not you. Although you know this to be true, your heart does tingle with warmth at the thought of the small boy you care for as if your own, viewing you in the same way.

The second time he says it, you aren't even around. The way he tells his soccer team about the amazing amusant park his mom and dad took him too, has Aaron's heart soaring. He would never force you into that role if you didn't want it. But when he watches you with Jack, he can't help but feel as though he has a second chance.

"...and Dad said that Mom was a wuss and wouldn't go on the ride cause she was gonna throw up!" Jack tells his teammates animatedly, "And Mom said she was fine. So she did. And Dad was right! Mom threw up in a trash can the moment we got off the ride!" His teammates all 'Ew' aloud at Jack's story, before rushing off to play.

Aaron can feel David Rossi staring at him and choose to not interact. Unfortunately for him, Dave had other plans.

"So... she's Mom now?" Aaron doesn't reply, instead flicking through the papers on his clipboard, Rossi continues, "Big step. She must be touched."

Aaron sighs, "That's the first time he's called her that." He doesn't miss the bemused look Rossi gives him but the soccer game takes his focus for the rest of the day.

The third time, Jack is mumbling to his parents about his day at dinner, pushing the peas around his plate.

You smile softly at him as the small boy yawns and rubs his eyes, "Bed time, handsome." You coo, pinching his cheek as you stand to collect your plates.

Jack's voice is small and whiney as he asks, "Mom, can you put me to bed? I want you to sing..." he rubs his eyes, missing the way you freeze on the spot. Aaron smiles at you, nodding as if to say he's okay with it.

You can't help the huge grin that threatens to spilt your face as you reply softly, "Okay, baby. Go get ready for bed. I'll be up in a second."

Jack nods, jumping down from seat, "Thanks mom." He bolts for his room, leaving you and Aaron alone. Tears threaten to spill and his arms are around you the moment Jack is out of sight.

"Shh, love... it's okay." He rubs your back gently as you look up at him, tears streaking your cheeks.

"I'm his mom." You say quietly. Aaron nods, smiling at you.

"Yes you are."

#comfort fic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch imagine #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch x fem!reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #jack hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds comfort

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l0s3rd0wnt0wn · 2 days ago

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"WHOS YOUR FAVORITE HERO"

Bio: Wb!Reader x Mark Grayson. Just thought of this while eating chicken tenders and fries (and yes, I am five years old). Anywho, I'm sick and tired of the disposable black girlfriend trope, and I feel like a geeky reader would work great with Mark.

"Thirty dollars!" Mark yelped, looking at the Science Dog omnibus. He literally buckled to his knees in the comic book shop. He sadly pulled out his wallet, pulling out his credit card with a small tear in his eye. "Don't you own the whole catalog already?" you chuckled, holding a Power Rangers comic in your hand. You and Mark were planning this hangout for months, and finally, it happened. You traveled all the way from Yuck, Gotham, New Jersey, just to see your online buddy, who crumbles when looking at price tags. "Want me to pay for them?" you smirked, holding Bruce's unlimited black card that clattered when it fell to the floor. "You do that for me?" He fake-blushed with a pouty face, acting like an anime girl. "Anything for my babygirl," you chuckled.

Mark smiles, getting all his comics, figurines, and sweet prize of $0 thanks to you. "Is there anything your dad's card can't buy?" he questions, staring at the stuff in the bag like a kid peeking at presents on Christmas Eve. "It can't buy him a soul, but yeah, it can buy literally anything. That's why it says 'Ultimate'," you flash the card in his face, making him stare at the big, bolded "Ultimate" sign pressed neatly on the black card. "God, I feel like a sugar baby at this point." "So you admit I'm your alpha?" Mark freezes mid-step, giving you the meanest side-eye you blame yourself for teaching him. "Jeez, you just love to kill a girl's vibe," rolling your eyes, "you killing the vibe by calling yourself an alpha!" You stopped and posed, "Do I not look alpha?"

You wore the most obnoxious graphic T-shirt from the movie Superbad. It had the McLovin ID card, not to mention you were wearing jorts with Green Lantern knee socks and your locks tied up in a messy ponytail. It's hard to believe you were Bruce Wayne's daughter; you dressed like a kid whose mom let them dress up for school once. "Yes, very alpha-like..." They should have never let you allowed to have adult money. The two of you were laughing and making a ruckus in the town square. Yeah, they should have never allowed the two of you to have adult money.

Walking through downtown without a care in the world, a billboard showed the newest hero, Invincible, going against his latest villain. You stopped to stare, marking a stop in the process. He finds himself trying to contain a blush. "So... that invincible guy seems pretty cool, huh?" he said, leaning into you just a little. "Nah, not really," an arrow pierced his chest when you said that. "He's kind of lame." Okay, shoot him while he's down, I guess. "I mean, who names themselves Invincible but then gets beat down almost every fight? That's like naming myself Invisible, but only my arms disappear." Ok, beat him down with a baseball bat. You turn your head to face him, and he looks like a wounded puppy. You suppress a smile.

"Well, his suit is nice," you mention, halfheartedly, and his face lights up brighter than the streetlights. "Really?" You felt like those people on a sitcom who make awestruck sounds. "Yeah, it's pretty cool. The detail is noticeable, but it's not ostentatious like most superhero suits; I think it's cool." He's literally beaming when you say this. "Yeah?" You nod your head. "But it would be way cooler if he had a catchphrase—you know, like how Batman screams 'vengeance!' or how Superman represents 'hope.' The guy needs a slogan." "Slogan like what?" He raised an eyebrow at you. "I don't know, maybe he could scream, 'I'm vincing it!' at the top of his lungs while beating bad guys." His face changed to an expression of disgust, as if you had personally offended him.

"There is no way in hell I— I mean, invincible is yelling, 'I'm vincing it.'" His face was almost red trying to explain himself. "I'm vincing it, Mark," you say nonchalantly. He immediately gets grossed out. "Get away from me!" he shouts, speed walking away, just to walk faster and scream louder, "I'm vincing, Markus!" Now you're chasing him down, screaming that in the town square. How romantic!

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sweetstrawberryys · 3 days ago

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"Language, Soldier!"

Summary: Simon “Ghost” Riley finally has the perfect family—his loving wife and their little son, Ghostie. But old habits die hard, and Simon’s military swearing is legendary. His wife and son hatch a plan: a swear jar that’s filling up fast. When Simon’s team comes over for dinner, nobody is safe from the swear jar—and the family’s about to cash in big time.

Rating: Fluff overload. Found family. Ghost and his perfect family. Tf141 being big grumps. Ghostie gets rich rich.

Masterlist

---

The kitchen smelled like garlic and rosemary, warm and inviting. Simon “Ghost” Riley stood at the stove, expertly flipping chicken breasts with a practiced hand, though he kept glancing nervously at the small jar on the counter. It was an unassuming glass jar with a bright pink label slapped on it that read “SWEAR JAR” in glittery letters.

His wife, radiant and soft, leaned against the fridge, arms crossed, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. Their son, barely two but already suspiciously aware of the world, sat in his high chair, shaking a tiny piggy bank with a grin that could melt any hardened soldier’s heart.

“Simon,” she called, voice dripping with honey, “I’m telling you, this thing is making us filthy rich.”

Simon rolled his eyes but smiled, “Yeah, yeah. You and the little gremlin making money off my bad habits.”

Ghostie squealed and clapped his hands as his mom dropped a few coins into the jar. “More money! More money!”

Ghost glanced at the jar, then back at his son, and sighed. “At this rate, I’ll have to start talking like a nun. Or a bloody monk.”

She laughed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Or maybe just watch your language.”

Before he could answer, the doorbell rang. Simon wiped his hands on a towel and went to open it, revealing his entire team: Soap, Price, and Gaz, all carrying bottles and good spirits.

“Evening, Ghost,” Soap greeted, grinning wide. “What’s the occasion?”

“Just a quiet family dinner,” Simon’s wife said sweetly, eyes gleaming with a mischievous light.

Simon shot her a look but said nothing.

As the team filtered in, Ghostie’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Daddy’s friends!” he squealed, pointing at Soap, who crouched down to say hi.

Once everyone was settled at the table, the first plate of food passed around, and the wine poured, the real fun began.

Price was the first to slip. “Fuck,” he muttered as he missed the gravy boat and nearly spilled it on the floor.

Instantly, Ghost’s wife chimed in with a grin, “That’s five coins.”

Everyone’s eyes flicked to the jar, which suddenly seemed to glow ominously in the soft light.

Soap burst out laughing. “You’re shitting me. We’re actually paying for swearing?”

Simon shrugged. “Welcome to married life.”

---

As the evening rolled on, the team’s colorful language only got more creative. Gaz cursed under his breath about the cold draft near the window; Soap swore loud enough to make even a sailor blush; Price’s insults aimed at the dessert being “too bloody sweet” made everyone chuckle—and drop coins.

Ghostie, catching on, gleefully added to the jar each time his mom handed him a coin.

At one point, Simon himself cursed when a napkin flew into the salad bowl, earning a teasing smirk from his wife and a hefty contribution to the jar.

The room buzzed with warmth, laughter, and the occasional beep of a coin hitting glass.

---

As the night wound down and plates were cleared, Ghost’s wife counted the loot with a sparkle in her eyes.

“Well,” she announced, “we’ve got enough for a family day out… and maybe a new bike for Ghostie.”

Simon wrapped an arm around her, feeling more relaxed than he had in years. “Guess I’m gonna have to learn some new words.”

She smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Or just keep letting us cash in on your colorful language.”

Ghostie yawned, already half-asleep in his chair, clutching his piggy bank.

Simon scooped him up, feeling that perfect blend of exhaustion and joy. “Best damn family I’ve ever had,” he whispered.

And with that, the swear jar sat quietly on the counter, ready for its next round of “offenses.”

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xylatox · 2 days ago

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If you’re out there || cbg

Been thinking about this fic since the teaser >< I love love love raya’s work and its a quiet place au (easily one of my movie universes) so im looking forward to this world with beomgyu :)

“Because I can’t stand the thought of you being left behind. I’d rather stay just a little longer. To hold your hand through the end. To take care of you until your last breath. Until I know you don’t have to be alone.” His thumb brushes your cheek again, slower this time. “And when you can’t see me anymore… then I’ll go.”

Raya you already grabbed my heart from the very beginning ugh

Maybe because it was easier to say that than admit she was waiting for a man who rarely looked her in the eyes. Maybe she believed it, after enough nights of watching your father’s gaze follow women who weren’t her.

You’re simultaneously blessing and breaking my heart here

“I told you to study for it, Huening Kai. Am I right?” The full name. Shit. Even he knows that’s when it’s bad. “So we could present together. And now you’re standing here telling me you didn’t even look at your assigned parts?”

I wasnt sure what she was going to be upset over and honestly😭this made me giggle because its so me i cant lie, like wdym you didnt look at your assigned part

A year ago, you would’ve let the anger win. You would’ve said something that bite, just to feel like you still had control, but you now don't. Because now… now you’re learning to make space for the boy standing in front of you.

I dont know what it is with your work Raya, but i always relate to the mcs in one way or another; it mightn’t be in this big grand way but it just feels so cozy you know. This line in particular resonates even more with me as someone who was just always angry

He laughs softly. “I just think…” he starts, then trails off, scratching the back of his neck. “I just think you’re the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen. Maybe that’s why I did it.”

Oh my god Rayaaaaa :::::(((((((( i cant handle this.

“I, I mean — I’ve watched you since before. Not in a creepy way, I swear. But just… fuck, you could sell poison and I’d still line up for it.”

You will definitely convert me to a bamtori by the end of this year

While Beomgyu poured himself into his Biology degree, interning as a lab researcher with determination, you chased a harder dream.

I GIGGLED. Beomgyu in BIO????😭😭😭I wouldve loved to have him as a classmate (also him in my future dream job teehee ><)

"Shit, my heart is about to burst," he muttered, running a hand through his hair for the fifth time. His eyes kept darting toward the sink, where two pregnancy tests sat waiting. “Should we call your parents? My mom? What do we even need to buy, diapers? Vitamins? A crib? Wait, we don’t even know yet — ”

This has me so giggly. This is so Gyu coded, hes so cute :(((

“I’ll give everything to you,” he whispered, “To both of you.”

It felt like the rest of your life had just opened its doors, and welcomed you home.

Ill sob oh my god this is so sweet.

Everything had felt too perfect.

The subtle foreshadowing before my tears

It's on fire. Your building was on fire.

Girl. girl. Im speechless, things are just going to get worse from here

I gave a silly smile as we got introduced to Soobin and Yeonjun :))))

Also love how you make the written convos in bold.

“Don’t make a sound, unless you’re ready to die, sweetheart.”

????Raya give the poor girl a break

The man is on the floor now, thrashing. Yeonjun is on top of him. No hesitation. No mercy.

Oh my god woah

I love that we get Beomgyu’s perspective for this as well; you can literally feel all the love he has for mc and its so sweet

They always ask you that. They always wait for your answer, like they won’t take more unless you say no, as if your hunger matters more than theirs.

I love how they immediately love and care for her. It warms my heart that amidst this apocalyptic world she still has people looking out for her even if Beomgyu isnt here yet

Choi Beomgyu catches you mid-sprint, arms locking around your body like he’s afraid you’ll vanish. You clutch the fabric of his shirt, gripping it like a lifeline. His hands move over your back, your shoulders, your hair, as if he’s trying to memorize you all over again. His hands protectively settles on your stomach. His worry presses into your skin like a second heartbeat.

Oh the tears in my eyes i love them :((((

Yeonjun's gaze held yours a second too long. Then it drifted to Beomgyu, to the way you leaned into him, glowing like the sun had finally returned to your skin. Slowly, Yeonjun offered a faint smile —small, almost careful. When you directed your blinding smile to him, he looked away as if he was burned, hands tightening just slightly around the strap of his bag, with one thought in his mind. You were no longer his to worry about.

Raya. Raya please tell me im reading way too much into this😭Something about this moment just feels so sad

It doesn’t undo the nights you slept with a hand on your belly and silence as your only lullaby. It doesn’t erase the fear, the ache, the long quiet suffering of missing someone like breath.

But as your tears spill freely, soaking into the space where his heartbeat thuds against yours, you know those days have ended.

Raya you have a way of making me feel hopeful and scared every time for what is to come i swear.

His arms find you, pulling you close, wrapping around your body like he’s trying to shield you from the night itself. His voice is low, calm, pressed right against your ear. “Shh… baby, it’s okay,” he whispers, steady and warm, even as your heart races. “They won’t hear us. Not with the river this loud. I promise.”

NO BECAUSE MY HEART DROPPED. I was actually so scared like; i love the declaration and all and I know beomgyu wont do anything reckless but oh my god

If you had known what the morning would bring, if you had even caught a glimpse of it, you would’ve clawed your way out and screamed for him to stop. You would’ve gripped his face in your hands and told him no.

You would’ve begged him to stay.

RAYA. i literally laughed (NOT IN A HAPPY WAY) out loud. I am in disbelief, do not do this to me.

“You will,” Soobin spits, swaying. “Y/N is the one who matters. You know that. We’re dead weight. If you stay, she dies too. They will die too.”

I feel sick, i am going to throw up

Tears stream down your face, hot and constant, your hands white-knuckled on the controls. You’re not steering toward hope, you’re fleeing from loss. From the truth that’s clawing through your chest like something trying to escape, because you weren’t just leaving the lighthouse. You were leaving your heart behind.

You were leaving him.

Raya please I cannot handle this please dont do this to me

In your dream, you were cradling a baby to your chest, its tiny body safe in your arms. Beomgyu leaned down, smiling widely as you do.

Raya youre cruel, i literally feel sick from this, my chest is heavy and i feel like i could throw up

RAYA THE LETTER????? OH MY GOD NO.

then know this: i have no regrets. you gave me a reason to live, and if i can’t be there anymore, you living will be the only reason i can rest.

This line oh my god.

You don’t realize you’re shaking until you hold them in your arms. The baby is warm. Real. Alive. You’re sobbing, loud and wild and cracked open. It's a girl, just like he predicted. Just like what he wanted.

Nooo :(( baby did this on her own with no epidural oh my god im so proud for her and so devastated and I very realistic representation of postpartum oh my god

You press your cheek to her temple. She laughs at nothing, and for a moment, your chest feels light. “You look just like him,” you whisper. “But I think your soul is yours.”

You started waking up with the will to do so.

Please no despite all the pain your fics give me i will always love you

She used to haunt you.

Now, she anchors you — pulls you back to earth when you wake up gasping, when you reach across the bed and feel only emptiness. She pulls you through the dark.

I feel sick, the tears are tickling down :(

The sea glitters between you, endless and wide.

“You took your time, idiot.”

RAYA YOU ALWAYS HAVE ME IN TEARS AT THE END I SWEAR.

Sweetie, the way i gasped then giggled a bit as more tears fall writing this. I loved this soso much god. Anytime I read your work I always think damn; life really is worth living and all the suffering was worth it or else i wouldnt have been able to read this. I will always and I mean always find a way to read your work. Im so glad I finally got to read this and share my thoughts raya. Just know i always love and appreciate your work more than my words express.

₊ ˚ ⊹ ིྀ 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄

⠀˚⠀⠀♡⃕ㅤ pairing:ㅤㅤhusband choi beomgyu x wife reader

You haven’t spoken in days. You don’t even breathe loud anymore. Not since the night you saw what happens to those who do. The monsters don’t miss. The monsters come for sound like it’s blood in the water. One gasp. One sob. One accidental whisper and it’s over. Not just for you. It’s for the tiny life growing inside you. And if anything happens to you, you know. It’ll be the death of him, too.

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: a quiet place au, apocalypse!, established relationship, pregnancy, angst, romance, hurt/comfort, horror!, death!, descriptions of giving birth, subtle signs of postpartum!d. if any of the warnings above might be triggering for you, please step back. let me know if I missed anything. this is a work of fiction.

𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍-𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: MDNI, multiple-smut scenes, missionary, nipple-play, fingering, oral!fem receiving

𝗐𝖼: 22k — playlist.

𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾𝗌: thank you to my girl izzy, who made me watch a gameplay and unknowingly sparked the idea for this story. and a big thank you for my angel, cam — for sticking with me through everytime i got confused, scared, or just plain lost. i love you both.

“What?” you breathe out, with pretensing offense. You rest your head against his bicep, his arm curled around you, fingers gently combing through your hair. His other hand traces idle patterns on your skin, his thumb brushing your cheek, to the corner of your mouth, then down the column of your neck. “So you want me to die first?” you ask quietly.

He hums, nodding, a lopsided, boyish smile playing on his lips as you roll your eyes. He laughs under his breath, the sound warm, and shifts closer, his bare skin pressed to yours, “When we’re old,” he says, “so old everything’s white and wrinkled and slow…” He pauses to laugh again, eyes crinkling as they find yours, soft, because he’s seeing the softness on yours too. “If we die from just... being that old, I want you to go first.”

You blink, stunned for a second, and he continues, his voice gentler. “Because I can’t stand the thought of you being left behind. I’d rather stay just a little longer. To hold your hand through the end. To take care of you until your last breath. Until I know you don’t have to be alone.” His thumb brushes your cheek again, slower this time. “And when you can’t see me anymore… then I’ll go.”

They say marriage dulls love eventually. That over time, it settles into something quieter... less magic, more habit. Maybe that’s just how it goes. Maybe that’s what people mean when they call it normal. You see fewer families that are still whole. You meet more children who learned how to cope with absence before they ever learned how to tie their shoes.

You're lucky, they say, if your husband still comes home at night. Not even with flowers or apologies just... home. That’s what your mother always told you. Maybe because it was easier to say that than admit she was waiting for a man who rarely looked her in the eyes. Maybe she believed it, after enough nights of watching your father’s gaze follow women who weren’t her.

And as you got older, resentment took root. Maybe it wasn’t just men you started to hate. Maybe it was love itself or the idea of it. The way it demanded pieces of you and called it devotion. The way it asked you to wait, to bend, to stay small. You built walls. You spoke in sharp edges. You told yourself you were safer alone than ever being seen and still not chosen. You wanted nothing of it; none of that soft, foolish ache your mother carried in her eyes when she thought no one was looking.

No one really tells you that even the strongest walls don’t always hold. That storms, no matter how loud, eventually... settle. And that the sky doesn’t bloom with colour until the rain has had its say. You didn’t see it coming. How everything you once said you’d never need, never want, could begin to change. Almost without asking permission.

All because of one person.

You still remember the day you met your husband.

“Hey.”

You froze at the sound of Kai’s voice, jaw tightening as you continued folding flannels at the booth with your back still to him. Cold. Distant. And he knew exactly why.

He sighed, because yeah, he fucked up. And now you were icing him out, and rightfully so. He, along with Taehyun, had worked painstakingly to earn a place on your side. Now here he was, ruining it in one careless moment. “Y/N, I’m sorry, okay? I thought you already knew that — ”

“That what?” Your voice cut clean through the air, sharp. You finally turned to face him, and for a second, he almost wished you hadn’t. Your eyes weren’t tearful or hurt, they were hard. Disappointed.

You weren’t just anyone, you were the spine of this whole group. The one no one dared cross. The one everyone looked to when things got messy. Queen of the batch, they called you. And right now? He knew exactly how small he was beneath your gaze. Kai cleared his throat, suddenly unsure of where to put his hands, his guilt too loud in the silence between you. He glanced at Taehyun, desperate for backup, but Taehyun didn’t even look up. He kept shuffling papers like his life depended on it, like the tension in the room hadn’t tripled.

He wasn’t getting saved.

Not this time. “Uh—”

“I forgot, okay?” he stammers, eyes wide and guilty. “There was band practice, and then—there was—”

“Stop. Talking.”

He snaps his mouth shut instantly, lips pressed together in a dramatic pout. “Yes, ma’am,” he mumbles, like a kicked puppy trying to look cute.

You sigh, deep and tired. Not just at him but at yourself, for expecting better. For thinking this time he’d actually take it seriously. Your fingers press to your temples as you close your eyes briefly, grounding yourself before you say something worse. He’s looking at you like he’s one bad breath away from a full apology or running.

“Kai…” you start, softer now, “I didn’t ask for perfect. I just asked for effort. Fine, I'll do it.”

Kai’s about to open his mouth, probably to try another sorry excuse — when a loud laugh echoes across the auditorium, careless. You glance up instinctively. There they are; two seniors strolling in like the place was built for them. The taller one with deep dimples flashes a grin, saying something that makes the other throw his head back in a laugh that fills the space. He’s all hair and arrogance, long strands brushing the tops of his shoulders. Your eyes narrow, tracking him across the room.

Do they even realize this is an important event? Do they care? You roll your eyes, jaw clenched as irritation flares anew, like a match struck just a little too fast. Beside you, Kai quietly mutters another apology, but your attention has already shifted, redirected like a storm changing direction. You hate it, how easily they command the room. How everyone watches them. How they know they’re being watched. Just because they’re seniors.

Entitlement looks good on them, and that pisses you off even more.

“I hate that guy,” you mutter.

Taehyun follows your gaze. “Be specific,” he says, monotone. “There are two.”

“The loud one,” you snap. “One with the hair.”

Taehyun hums, unbothered. He knew why. “Of course.”

Kai leans in. “Be honest… is it hate, or is it hate-hate?”

You shoot him a glare so sharp he visibly leans back. “Okay. Hate it is,” he nods quickly.

Even as you turn away, your eyes flick once more to the boy with the laugh that somehow still echoes in your head.

You hate him.

You do.

The day moved in a blur. Fast at first, then agonizingly slow as your turn crept closer.

Most teams had two, sometimes three people standing up there together. You had no one. Alone behind the podium, trying to hold yourself upright on nothing but adrenaline and a little bit of pride. Still, you managed. You held your own. Answered every question crisply, clearly, almost like you’d rehearsed in your sleep. Everything was going fine. One of the panelists shifted in their seat, glanced down at their notes, then asked, “What do you think is the most important thing we should do for prospectives?”

It wasn’t a technical question. It wasn’t numbers or science or theory. It wasn’t anything you could calculate or memorize or recite.

You froze. Not because you didn’t care, but because that part of the project, that question was Kai’s. You stood there, blinking once, then twice. You could calculate a compound’s atomic behavior in a heartbeat, you could solve a formula blindfolded, but this? This felt like a punch to the gut in front of everyone. You focused on facts, ratio and numbers too much. It was so simple, so human, and you're giving silence.

You could feel it. eyes narrowing. Confusion settling. Their expectations hanging in the air like lead. Aren't you supposed to be the smart one? Is this all you are? Talk? No follow-through? You’re about to clear your throat, to say something, anything, to fill the itch clawing at your throat, when movement catches your eye.

In the very back, nearly hidden by rows of students, a hand lifts into the air. Not high. Not obvious. Almost like it wasn’t meant to be seen. No one else notices, except the boy next to him, who nudges him, brows raised. Your eyes stay locked on him.

Choi Beomgyu.

He doesn't speak, doesn't call out. He just forms a shape with his hands. Subtle, a quiet symbol drawn into the space between you.

A heart.

It feels louder than anything else in the room.

You look away. Swallow the lump rising in your throat. And when you turn back to the panelist, your voice finds itself. “Heart,” you say, “The most important thing is to reach the heart of your audience. Because if you don’t connect, nothing else will matter.”

A breath slips from your lungs the moment you catch the flicker of approval on the professor’s face.

Everything ended, hours pass and around you, the noise returns. Chairs scrape. Bags zip. Voices rise again like nothing happened. Kai and Taehyun are already across the table, heads down as they quietly gather the presentation materials.

You feel Kai’s eyes flick toward you, but not at you. Past you.

You turn. Choi Beomgyu stands just a few feet away, hands shoved in his pockets, watching you like he isn’t sure if you’ll stay or walk right past him.

You sigh, tugging your bag higher on your shoulder. “Alright,” you mutter, “It’s due, isn’t it? What do you want?”

Beomgyu blinks, caught off guard. His voice is quieter than you expect, almost like he wasn’t planning to speak at all. “…A thank you?”

“Thank you,” you mutter, barely meeting his eyes. Out of the corner of your vision, you catch Taehyun dragging a starry-eyed Kai away, literally pulling him by the elbow. A few students glance your way too, some whispering. You know why.

The two students, each known as the best in their own batch, now suddenly in the same frame.

“I know that’s probably not enough,” you sigh, folding your arms. “Men never really settle for just words, do they? What is it, food? A favor? Something for your class? Say it.”

He laughs softly. “I just think…” he starts, then trails off, scratching the back of his neck. “I just think you’re the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen. Maybe that’s why I did it.”

You blink. Of all the things you expected him to say, that wasn’t one of them. He’s flushed now, stammering through the rest. “I, I mean — I’ve watched you since before. Not in a creepy way, I swear. But just… fuck, you could sell poison and I’d still line up for it.”

A laugh breaks from your chest before you can stop it. He grins, almost in disbelief, like he can’t believe he got you to laugh.

What you didn’t know back then, what no one could’ve told you, was that the same boy standing here, flushed and awkward and a little reckless with his heart, would be the one to melt it all away, would be your exception, and would be the one to stand at the end of an aisle, eyes shining, waiting to marry you.

They say marriage dulls love eventually, but as your eyes blur with tears from the way he looks at you, so full of awe, as if you’re still something he can’t believe he gets to hold, and as your heart pulls tight at the gentleness in his voice, you know they were wrong. If anything, he loves you more. As if every day, his heart just finds a new way to fall for you.

“I love you,” you whisper, it's small but he hears it. He doesn’t speak — he can’t. His mouth moves around the words I love you too, but his voice catches before it can reach you. His eyes shine, his throat tight, and all he can do is look at you.

It’s been six years since you first met your husband, Beomgyu. He pursued you like you were gravity itself. He waited for you outside your lectures, rain or shine, just to walk you back to your dorm. He brought you coffee before exams, left sticky notes on your textbooks, made it his mission to learn the things you loved, just so he could love them too.

Within months, you said yes. Not just to being his girlfriend, but to the rhythm of a life slowly intertwining with his. Breaks became your sacred hour. Homework turned into nights side by side, papers spread out like puzzle pieces, his laughter softening the cruelty of long days. You studied. You dreamed. And you fell, so deeply, so fully, it terrified you. By the time Beomgyu graduated, it wasn’t just your hearts that had found home in each other. Your families met and clicked as if the universe had been planning it all along.

While Beomgyu poured himself into his Biology degree, interning as a lab researcher with determination, you chased a harder dream. You wanted to become a general surgeon — something that demanded long hours, relentless focus, and years more schooling. You feared the distance your ambition might create, the strain it could put on, but Beomgyu never flinched. He adjusted, he waited, he stayed.

He carved his own path slowly, carefully, becoming a research specialist step by step, all while holding space for you to grow. He never made you choose. Instead, he became the steady presence who picked you up on your worst days and celebrated even your smallest wins.

And when the time was right, when you were still tired from hospital rotations, hair a mess, hands aching from studying; he knelt on one knee, ring in hand, eyes full of the same certainty he had when he first saw you.

It’s been two years since you said your vows; two years of being married, of building a life not just in promises, but in the everyday. You’re both in your late twenties now, older, a little more tired maybe, but grounded in something stronger than youth. You’re still studying, pushing through the final stretch of your residency, while he’s found his name with respect in the field he loves.

Beomgyu wakes up early with you, even when he doesn’t have to. He packs your lunch on days you forget, leaves notes on your coffee cup when you’re too bleary-eyed to speak. Some nights, he waits up just to reheat your dinner, just to ask how your shift went, even if your words are half-slurred with exhaustion.

And still, somehow, he looks at you like it’s the first time.

Every hard day ends with him. Every version of your future still starts with him. In all the chaos, he remains your calm. In all the movement, he remains your constant. You used to wonder if love could last, if love was real. Now you know — it is. It just takes someone who chooses you every single day, even when the days are long and the words are few.

Beomgyu never stopped choosing you.

"You’re free today, right?" your husband asks as he flips a pancake, his tone light but full of meaning. “I was thinking... we could just stay in bed all day. Cuddle. Make love. Just… be.”

You choke on your orange juice, sputtering as the sweetness burns down the wrong pipe. Even after all these years, he still manages to catch you off guard. “Y-Yeah,” you cough out, cheeks warming. “I don’t have anything today. I remembered you were off.”

He flashes that boyish grin, throwing both fists in the air. “Yes!” he whispers dramatically, the spatula still in one hand. You giggle at the sight, he’s always a little ridiculous when it’s just the two of you, and your heart aches with how much you love him like this. He sets the pancakes down with exaggerated care, and you help him plate the rest, moving around each other in that familiar, wordless rhythm. Now seated across from him, he digs into his food with satisfaction, and you take your first bite too.

He looks up between chews. “Wanna watch a movie later?”

You were just about to speak when something twisted deep in your stomach, a pressure climbed your throat. You barely had time to register the panic flashing across Beomgyu’s face before instinct took over.

“What’s wrong?” he asked quickly, half-rising from his seat. His voice trembled with concern as he watched you press a shaky hand over your mouth.

You couldn’t answer. The chair scraped loudly against the floor as you bolted upright, your body moving before your brain could catch up. You heard him call your name behind you, but the sound was already drowned out by the thudding of your heartbeat and the desperate rush of your footsteps toward the bathroom.

Your knees hit the cold tile just in time.

Everything came up in a rush — sour, bitter. You gagged again, pain wracking your stomach as it emptied itself. The bile scorched your throat, your eyes watering from the force of it. You clutched the edge of the sink with one hand, the other trembling against your abdomen. Pancakes. It had to be the pancakes, right? But… you loved those. You always had.

Everything hurt. Your stomach cramped with each heave, your throat burned, and your head spun like the room had tilted sideways. Every wave of nausea pulled you further under, like drowning in your own body. Everything feels horrible, everything is —

“Hey… breathe, baby. I’ve got you.”

Warm hands on your back. Beomgyu’s touch moved up and down your spine in soft, reassuring strokes. After a second, you felt him gently gather your hair, pulling it away from your face. His free hand found your knee, cupping it softly, a barrier between your trembling body and the cold, unyielding floor. “More?” he said, voice thick with worry.

You didn’t answer, not yet. The nausea had finally passed, but you still felt wrung out, hollowed. You reached blindly for the flush, the mechanical whirl of water echoing louder than it should have in the small room. “Are you okay? Something wrong with the food?”

“I… I don’t know,” you whisper, your voice hoarse, fragile. Your legs feel unsteady as you slowly rise to your feet, and Beomgyu is there in an instant, arms steadying you, eyes never leaving your face.

He follows you to the sink in silence. You grip the cool edges of the porcelain and glance up at your reflection, pale and drawn, but it’s not just your face you’re looking at; it’s his eyes in the mirror, still locked on you.

He looks scared.

You rinse your mouth, trying to rid yourself of the sourness. You reach automatically for the mouthwash but pause when your eyes catch your sealed box of tampons, untouched. Something tugs at your chest. Your breath stills.

When… when was the last time?

“Gyu,” you say softly. He hums in response, giving you space to find your words. You turn just enough to look at him, really look at him. His brows are knit in concern, lips parted like he’s already halfway to asking what’s wrong again. You swallow hard, voice barely a breath.

“You should buy me some pregnancy tests.”

It was the longest three minutes of your life.

You sat on the closed toilet lid, elbows on your knees, hands clutched tightly together. Your heart pounded like a warning bell, loud in your chest, loud in your ears. Across the small bathroom, Beomgyu paced like he couldn’t decide whether to breathe or break down.

"Beomgyu." You said his name firmly, and he froze. His eyes snapped to yours, wild with thought, but something in your tone reeled him back in. “You’re more frantic than me,” you said softly.

He let out a shaky laugh, barely a breath, then crossed the room in two steps. He knelt in front of you, his hands warm as they cradled your face. His forehead met yours with the gentleness of a promise. "Whatever it is," he said, voice steady now. “Whatever the outcome… we’re okay. You and me.”

You nodded, pressing your eyes closed for a second, to hold the weight of this moment between your bodies. The fear, the hope, the fragile anticipation curling in your chest.

Your alarm goes off, Beomgyu grips your hand.

Two pink lines.

You didn’t know what happened in the next few seconds, it all blurred. You knew it wasn’t final, that a doctor’s confirmation still waited ahead, but none of that mattered, not when Beomgyu looked at you like you’d handed him the universe.

He lifted you with a laugh that cracked, arms wrapped around you like he never wanted to let go. His lips found yours again and again, messy, full of awe. You had to push him back just to breathe, only for him to chase after you, kissing you like his life depended on it. You started painting a picture behind your closed eyes.

A home. A life. Beomgyu. And your... child.

He carried you to the bed in a blur, laying you down, “You're carrying my baby,” he whispered, breath ragged, brushing your hair from your face. “God, I can’t believe, I love you, I love you so much—”

Then his mouth was on you again, trailing from your jaw to your collarbone, down to the curve of your breasts. He cupped them gently, thumbs brushing your nipples until they tightened beneath his fingers. He kissed every inch, like he was memorizing you anew, lips worshipping the swell of your chest, the softness of your stomach. When he slid your panties down, he did it slowly, eyes never leaving yours. His fingers parted you, tender at first, then more firm as you gasped beneath him, the heat of your body answering his touch instantly. “You feel so warm,” he murmured, voice almost breaking. “So perfect. Mine.”

His mouth followed, tongue tasting you slowly. Your back arched. His hands pressed your thighs open wider, and you cried out his name, your hands tangling in his hair. He climbed over you, his cock pressed hard and aching against your entrance, you reached for him. He moved slowly at first, savoring every inch of you, his forehead pressed to yours, both of you whispering between breaths. “I love you.”

His pace quickened as your moans filled the room, his hips snapping forward harder, deeper, one hand cupping your breast, the other finding your clit. But even then, his eyes never left yours, wide and glassy.

He came with your name on his lips, his body trembling above yours. He didn’t pull away. He just held you, panting against your skin, his hand sliding protectively over your stomach.

“I’ll give everything to you,” he whispered, “To both of you.”

It felt like the rest of your life had just opened its doors, and welcomed you home.

“Yeah, I’ll drive safely, I promise,” you say into the phone, balancing it between your shoulder and ear as you push the shopping cart forward. “The weather’s nice today, so I thought I’d swing by and visit Ryujin later too.”

“You should’ve waited for me to come home before going out,” Beomgyu grumbles on the other end, and even though it’s just a call, you can hear the pout in his voice.

You smile to yourself. “I couldn’t wait two more days, hun. Maybe it’s the hormones? I just really needed to get out of the house.”

You bow politely to an elderly couple who step aside for your cart. There’s a flutter in your chest, not just from the grocery run, but from the soft awareness that you’re not alone in your body anymore. He sighs, his voice softer now. “How’s the shopping? You still okay?”

“Yeah,” you reply, reaching for a box of cereal and dropping it into the cart. “I haven’t thrown up all morning, actually.”

“That’s good.” A pause. Then, “Work’s alright. Busy. The relocation is almost done, they’re giving me one more project before I get to be picky again.”

“Picky?”

“Yeah. I’ve got to be.” You hear a faint smile in his voice now. “My wife’s pregnant.”

“Beomgyu… you’ve been boasting about it to everyone, haven’t you?”

“Of course I have,” he says, without an ounce of shame. “I made it.”

You laugh, unable to help it. “Sir, it’s my body.”

“And I’m the co-founder. Are you trying to use science against me now?”

“Well,” you tease, biting back another grin, “if you only think that way…”

“Don’t.” He cuts you off with a playful groan, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “Stop right now or I swear, I’ll drive home just to kiss that pretty mouth of yours.”

Your laugh slips out before you can stop it, light and full of something so easy, so whole. You hear his own laughter follow. For a moment, the world feels small. His voice in your ear. Your hand on your stomach. A swell of joy on your chest.

Everything had felt too perfect.

You turned down another aisle, cart wheels squeaking softly against the floor as you absently listened to Beomgyu's voice through the phone. He was moving around on the other end, probably getting ready to head back to work after spending his whole break talking to you.

Your hand reached for a bottle of ketchup when the ground shifted beneath you. It was so subtle at first you thought you imagined it, but then, another jolt. Harder. A low rumble filled the air, then the shelves trembled.

Screams erupted down the aisle,. Someone dropped a basket. Another shouted. The floor seemed to tilt and shudder, the metallic clatter of falling cans and shattering glass erupting around you like a storm. Your phone slipped from your hand.

“Shit,” you breathed, backing away instinctively, heart lurching to your throat. You let go of the cart and crouched low, one arm bracing against the shaking shelf, the other instinctively cradling your stomach.

You dropped to your knees, trying to stay steady as the floor trembled. Panic rose like bile in your throat. You scanned the store, heart hammering, searching desperately for an exit, but you were deep in the back. Trapped between rows of falling items, far from the doors, far from safety. As soon as the tremors stopped, you scrambled for your phone, fingers fumbling to grab it from where it had fallen. The screen was cracked, but still lit and his voice came through immediately.

“Baby? Are you okay?” Beomgyu’s voice was tight. “There was an earthquake. You need to get out of that store, now. Find open space. Keep me on the phone. Just hurry, but be careful.”

You exhaled shakily, heart pounding in your ears. “Okay,” you whispered, voice trembling. “I’m okay. I’m — ”

Your words froze. A scream ripped through the air, guttural. You turned instinctively toward the sound, but the aisle was empty. Your feet stilled. The grocery store, which had just been chaos, fell into a thick, sudden silence.

Too quiet.

You stepped forward slowly, eyes darting around, and saw a man at the far end of the aisle. He looked confused, his brows furrowed as if he too had heard it but didn’t understand. He looked at you, seeking answers you didn’t have.

You pressed the phone closer to your ear. “Beomgyu…” your voice was barely above a whisper, “something’s wrong.”

There was a beat of silence, then the sharp shuffle of movement on the other end. “Get out of there. Now,” he ordered, voice low but firm. “Don’t wait. Go home. I’m already on my way.”

“HELP! PLEASE, HELP!”

The scream shattered whatever silence was left. It wasn’t fear, it was terror. Pure, bone-deep terror.

Your breath caught in your throat as people started running, shouting over one another, shopping carts abandoned and crashing into shelves. Panic took over like a wave, and you ran with it, feet moving before your mind could catch up, heart hammering so violently you could barely breathe.

“What?” you gasped out loud, the word foreign and unreal in your mouth. “Was it the earthquake? What’s happening?”

You were seconds from reaching the crowd gathering near the store’s front exit when everything stopped.

Because through the tall glass panels, beyond the automatic doors, you saw it.

It wasn’t human. Its body was long, towering, its legs grotesquely jointed and thin like twisted branches. Its skin looked slick and dark, somewhere between rotted brown and black, like it had grown from the earth itself. And its head was massive, lopsided, glistening under the sun.

It was sprinting.

Right toward the entrance. Right toward you.

Your body moved on instinct, run. You turned, bolting in the opposite direction, the air thick with screams and the thundering of feet. Your hands were shaking so hard, your phone slipped from your grasp, hitting the floor without a sound. You didn’t stop. Couldn’t.

You didn’t look back.

Thuds. Cracks. Wet. Tearing.

They're dying. You were moving too fast, too desperate. The screams behind you changed, twisting from fear to agony. It was killing them.

Run.

Your arms wrapped around your stomach like a shield, legs pushing you faster than they ever had before. You turned down an aisle blindly. More screaming. Another crash.

Your ears rang from the sounds. Your hands were shaking so hard you could barely keep yourself upright. The store, once so bright and dull and normal, was now a labyrinth of blood and chaos and shadows and you were running for your life through it. It wasn’t over.

Another one ripped through the grocery store’s left wall like paper, jagged limbs piercing through the broken frame, its massive head twitching unnaturally as it unfolded itself into the store. The sudden eruption sent you stumbling; you hit the floor hard, landing flat on your back, the breath knocked from your lungs. It was already inside. Long legs scraped against tile, too many joints bending in ways that made your stomach turn. It moved with intent, frenzied.

It was running towards a woman, five feet in front of you.

“Mommy!!” A child. No older than six. His tiny voice cut through, making the creature snapped its head around, twisting its body in a full.

You gasped. In less than a second, it lunged.

The boy didn’t even have time to move. One hideous limb lashed out, a blur of motion and then there was blood. His body hit the shelf behind him, crumpling like a doll, small hands twitching once before going still. The mother screamed. A scream that sounded like it broke something in her throat. She ran but not away. Toward him. Toward where her son used to be and the monster met her halfway.

You could only watch. Helpless. Paralyzed. The creature descended on her like a machine — limbs slashing, tearing. Her scream didn’t last long. The sound turned to wet gurgling, bones cracking beneath the weight of its strikes. Her blood painted the tiles in uneven splashes.

You pressed a hand to your mouth. You feel the burn in your eyes.

It should’ve gone for the woman. She was right in front of it —motionless, exposed. The obvious target. The child screamed. He was farther away, barely in its path. He just screamed for his mother, a sharp, panicked sound.

And that was all it took.

It turned. It moved. Not toward the closest body, but toward the sound. The child made a noise, and the monster struck. Then the mother screamed, and it went for her next. You glance at it. It’s not attacking you. Its head is smooth. Perfectly round. No eyes. No mouth. No face at all. It has no eyes. It hears. If your theory’s wrong, if it can see you — you’ll be dead.

You stay still, your body trembling against the cold floor. Every instinct screaming to run, to hide, to cry but you keep your mouth shut.

You don’t make a sound.

You could hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears. Your skin had turned ice-cold, and every hair on your body stood on end like a warning. It moved slowly at first, almost aimlessly, like it was feeling its way through the dark. Then, out of nowhere, a police siren shrieked past outside. The creature recoiled, let out a piercing, guttural scream, as if it had been set on fire. He went out, harsly running towards it's next target, leaving you alone.

Your legs are weak, but you forced yourself to stand. The store was dead silent now. Too silent. The smell hit you. Thick. Coppery. Blood.

Everyone's dead.

You didn’t dare speak. Not even a whisper, the sound might draw it back. Your feet moved on their own; slow, unsteady, barely touching the ground, every creak of the tile felt deafening. You were trying not to breathe too loudly.

You needed to get home. Home. Just get home.

You’d have to drive, but if you drove… they’d hear. They’d come. Just like they did when that police car screamed past, sirens blaring — the car was torn apart like it was nothing.

You swallowed hard. Your throat was dry. Your phone. Where was your phone?

Beomgyu.

His name hit you like a punch to the chest. Choi Beomgyu. He told you to go home. He said he was on his way. No. No no no no. He can’t come here. He can’t. Your breath caught. Panic bloomed sharp and fast, stealing the air from your lungs. You pressed a hand to your chest like it might hold you together.

You were supposed to scream. That’s how the body processes fear, but how do you let it out, when silence is the only thing keeping you alive?

You move through the store like a ghost, each step slow and deliberate as you make your way to the essentials section. Outside, the world is chaos. Screams slice through the air. The guttural shrieks of monsters rattle your bones. You flinch every time. Your hands tremble. But you don’t stop.

You can’t stop.

You have to do this. He’s waiting for you. You need to see your husband, just once more, even if it’s the last time.

You sling the backpack over your shoulder. You trade your shoes for boots — quieter, sturdier. Thank God you wore pants. Beomgyu’s sweatshirt still clings to your frame, carrying the faintest trace of him. You pull gloves over your hands, muffling every touch, every sound. The back door creaks when you open it. You freeze. Wait. Then move. It takes forever.

No matter how long it takes, no matter how many times your heart threatens to shatter, you're going home.

You’ve been walking for almost three hours.

You should’ve been home an hour ago, but your steps are slow, too slow. Every time a monster crosses your path, every time something horrific stares back at you from the shadows, your feet freeze. They root to the ground like they’d rather become stone than move forward.

You kept going. One more turn and you'd be home. You could already feel it. The warmth of your apartment, the way the hallway light flickers, the sound of his voice saying your name. You could almost see his face. You didn’t care what came next. Not the monsters. Not the sky falling. You just wanted to see him again.

You smelled it first. You saw it next.

It's on fire. Your building was on fire.

You almost stumble when you see them, multiple monsters gathered across the street, drawn like moths to the roaring flame consuming your home. The crackling fire must’ve called to them, like some kind of death song. You press yourself against the wall, heart pounding in your ears, eyes scanning the streets with desperate hope.

Is his car here? Is he? He drove. If he drove, he wouldn’t have made it back. Not through this hell. The realization sinks in like a knife twisting in your mind, cruel. You had hoped. Foolishly, stubbornly. Even without a phone, without power, without a single sign, your heart had held on to the idea of seeing him again.

Now you stand in front of a burning building and wonder what’s left to hold on to.

That morning flashes through your memory, so painfully clear now. The way he got up quietly, kissed your cheek, your forehead, your nose, over and over like he couldn’t bear to leave. You let sleep take you, too warm, too safe to stir. You didn’t even say goodbye.

If you had known…

If you had known, you would’ve woken up. You would’ve pulled him back into bed, wrapped yourself around him like it could stop time. You would’ve held him until the sun rose twice.

A piercing screech rips through the air, dragging you violently back to reality. Your breath hitches as your body flinches on instinct. You stagger back a step, your vision swimming, not from fear, but from the tears spilling freely down your cheeks.

You stare at the fire swallowing your building, and the truth finally settles, cold and merciless: He’s not here. He’s not coming back. The chance of finding him… it was impossible.

The fire devours everything you once called home, and in your mind’s eye, it scorches more than walls and furniture. Your college photos, where he smiled like the world was a little softer with you in it. Your wedding day, frozen in frames, dressed in love and laughter. The letters he wrote, the ones he hid in lunch boxes and slipped between pages of your books, always signed with too many hearts. All gone.

You're now a hollow shell with shaking legs and a heart left behind in a home that no longer exists. You start walking because there’s nothing else to do. You don’t know where you’re going. There’s nowhere left to go. No plan. No direction. You dreamed of years with him in that apartment — mornings, chaotic dinners, shared laughter in the kitchen. Your child one day, his eyes, your smile. You dreamed of life.

Everything that was his, everything that was yours, is now reduced to ash.

You’re curled up inside an abandoned house.

It’s not safe, but it’s hidden. You chose it because there’s less chance they’ll hear you here. You sit on the floor, knees pulled to your chest, trying to eat. Your hands move like they belong to someone else, raising food to your lips in slow, mechanical motions. Just two bites and your stomach twists violently, rejecting it. You press a hand to your mouth, fighting the urge to throw up.

And then it comes again, your tears. You don’t even try to stop them now. They slide down your face, soaking into your sleeves. Your throat tightens with a sob you can’t release because crying out loud would kill you.

You cry in silence, your body shaking, your chest heaving like you’re trying to breathe through water. Your heart hurts. Physically hurts. And for what?

What’s your purpose now?

You were supposed to be a doctor. You had plans, you spent years of studying, training, pushing your limits because you wanted to help. You lived with your hands busy, always reaching for someone else. You belonged in the noise, in the rush, in the healing. Now… there’s no one left to help. No one to save. Not even yourself.

The only peace you ever truly knew was in his arms, holding his hand, feeling his heartbeat next to yours. Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you wonder if it would be easier to just stop breathing. Should you give up?

Is this how it ends?

You run your hands over your head, fingers digging into your scalp like you’re trying to wake yourself from this nightmare. It made you feel your bracelet. Still there, wrapped around your wrist. His gift. His promise. A piece of him, holding on.

No. You can’t give up. What would he think if you did? Are you really going to leave him behind? Are you going to take your child with you into nothingness, before they even have a chance to live?

The thought slams into your chest like a hammer. You gasp, and your breath catches on guilt. Your hands fall to your stomach, shaking. Your eyes are dry, swollen, wide open; sleep hasn’t touched you since the last time he held you. The backpack presses into your spine like punishment. It’s heavy with food, with survival, but you refuse to take it off.

It's for you, for Beomgyu, and it’s for the tiny life growing inside you.

You’re going to find him. You have to.

Beomgyu is smart — brilliant in ways that always amazed you. Steady in a storm, the calm to your chaos. He thinks ahead, plans, protects. He wouldn't give up on you. He’s out there right now, searching, heart clenched just like yours, whispering your name.

You won’t let him search in vain. You press your hand over your stomach again, eyes burning with the fire that refused to die with your home. You’re going to find him.

In a world where sound means death, love — no matter what — will find a way to speak.

Your footsteps barely make a sound.

Stay quiet. Stay alive.

The earth bites at your bare feet, the pain is familiar now, it's almost a comfort. A week ago, you watched your home dissolve into flame and smoke, and it’s been a day since you last slept.

You remember those lectures, they taught you about ecosystems; how every life is woven into another, a perfect balance of give and take, but ever since that day, you are a creature of instinct, hiding from the eyes that stalk the dark. You are prey — breathing, moving, breaking beneath the weight of a world that no longer feels like it belongs to you.

Your stomach growls. It's been hours since your last bite, and now more than ever, you know you can't ignore it. You're not just feeding yourself anymore. You're eating for two.

A sharp sting shoots through your foot. You flinch, glancing down just long enough to spot a smear of red blooming beneath a piece of broken glass. You moved to remove it, slowly. You don't look back at it twice.

Up ahead, you see a grocery store, the sign hangs by a single hinge. You scan the street, abandoned cars, shattered windows, silence stretching thick around you. No movement. No monsters. Not yet.

You push the door open.

Inside, dust and decay hang in the air. Inside, two sets of eyes meet yours from across the aisle. Wide, startled. Human. Just like yours.

Just as afraid.

It’s hard; trying to learn names, to meet someone new, when none of you can speak. Everything will take effort, a will. A notebook and a pen.

The first one you came to know was Soobin. Tall, easily over six feet. His eyes are wide and searching, his hair tousled by the wind, and when he smiled, you noticed the dimples tucked into his cheeks, softening everything. Then there’s Yeonjun, the older one. Sharper features, eyes shaped like a fox, always watching. There’s a seriousness to him, still, he welcomed you the best he could, a nod, a shared look, a warmth that didn’t need sound. You learned they were roomates even before all of this happened, and they managed to stay together, something that made your chest ache.

Strangers were supposed to be dangerous, but something about these two…felt like you already knew them.

It’s your turn with the notebook.

You sit at the table, pen trembling slightly in your hand. Soobin and Yeonjun lean in just enough to read over your shoulder. They told you the store had already been picked clean — nothing left but dust and broken shelves.

So you write anyway. It’s all you can offer.

I'm Y/N. You pause, then press the pen harder. I'm looking for my husband, and I'm pregnant.

There it is, laid bare between the lines. You need them to understand that you're a risk. Your hand hesitates before writing the next part, the words scrape against something tender. If you think I'll be a problem, you can walk out that door, and I won't even look.

Your throat tightens, then you add, in a small, hurried scrawl — But… could you please help me get some food first?

You don’t look up. You’re too afraid of what you’ll see on their faces.

A gentle weight settles on your shoulder. You flinch before realizing it’s Soobin. His hand is steady, reassuring. When you look up, he meets your eyes and nods once, firm and certain.

Then he takes the pen. We'll help you find him, he writes.

You feel a solid in a world that’s been crumbling around you.

You turn to Yeonjun. He doesn't say anything but he jerks his chin toward the broken doorway, already slinging a pack over his shoulder. The look in his eyes is clear as daylight.

Come on, it says. We got you.

You’re not alone anymore.

You slipped easily into the space between Soobin and Yeonjun. It was reckless, you knew that. Three people moving together meant more noise, more danger, but being apart felt worse. As if, despite everything, people were meant to stay close.

Your thoughts snapped back to your husband. The ache didn’t just sit in your chest — it clawed at it, hollowing it out. You could still feel his fingers, ghostlike, curling around yours. His last touch. Your hand drifted to your stomach. A reflex. Yeonjun glanced over, catching the movement, but said nothing.

You searched. You searched everywhere. Every street, every shattered doorway, calling his name in your head even when your lips stayed shut. Was he ever here? Is he even alive? In a world this broken, how do two people ever find their way back?

A thought sparked, something like an idea, but it died just as fast. Your body had other priorities, hunger twisted through you like a threat. You needed food, you needed him, but you could only chase one at a time.

You glance over your shoulder, eyes catching the dull lettering of the grocery ahead, the next stop. Soobin raises two fingers, pointing left. A silent signal. He’ll cover that side. Yeonjun peels off toward the center aisles, moving like he’s done this a hundred times.

That leaves you with the right. Your steps are slow. Every possible creak of the old floor sounds too loud in your ears. You scan the shelves like it’s life or death, because it is. Empty. Empty. Crushed box. Broken glass. Then, cans.

Unopened. Untouched. Real food.

A breath nearly escapes your lips. Relief flutters in your chest, fragile and disbelieving. You move toward it, heart pounding. One hand reaches for the cans. The other tugs your backpack open, inch by inch, slow enough that the zipper barely whispers.

Then, a hand. Over your mouth.

It clamps down hard, cutting off your breath before the gasp can even rise. You freeze. Every muscle in your body locks.

“Don’t make a sound, unless you’re ready to die, sweetheart.”

His voice is so small, but it curls around your ear hot and foul. You flinch as his breath hits your skin, as the rough scrape of his beard grazes your neck. Your eyes sting. You could fight him, but deep down, you know what waits beyond the walls, things far worse than this man. You shift, just a fraction, and he feels it. Cold metal bites into your ribs. The blade doesn’t pierce, not yet. It just promises to.

You stop moving. You stop breathing. You surrender, not because you’re weak, but because survival, for now, means silence. If he hurt you, youu know the truth: there’s no hospital. No rescue. No safety coming. If this goes wrong, it ends here. His hand slips from your mouth only when he’s certain you won’t scream but it doesn't mean mercy. His grip just shifts, closing around your throat instead. Tighter. Controlling.

You can’t breathe. He drags you backward like you weigh nothing, your heels scraping the ground, until he throws you down hard. The floor is uneven and you catch yourself with shaking hands, terrified that even a whisper of sound might bring something worse.

Your mind is chaos. Screaming. Do you cry for help? Do you risk it? Do you die now or later?

Beomgyu.

You shut your eyes. Everything in you trembles. You feel him settle over you, heavy, disgusting, his breath rancid and far too close. It coats your skin like oil. You’d rather die than let this happen —

A sickening, wet gurgle cuts through the silence, and the weight on top of you vanishes. You gasp, chest heaving, and force your eyes open. The world swims for a second and then sharpens into something worse.

The man is on the floor now, thrashing. Yeonjun is on top of him. No hesitation. No mercy.

His right hand is clamped around the man’s throat, every tendon and vein in his arm straining with force, crushing down hard, precise, too precise to be chance. His other hand smothers the man’s mouth, muffling the sounds, denying him even the dignity of a scream. Yeonjun uses his entire body like a weapon, knees pinning limbs, muscles taut with pure intent.

You can’t move. You can’t breathe. You can’t stop watching. It's an execution, and he’s doing it for you, because of you.

Tears blur your vision as the man beneath Yeonjun convulses, still clinging to life. You don’t even know what’s happening anymore. Then you see Soobin, he’s moving toward the scene, eyes wide, taking it all in. His gaze lands on you.

He sees the disheveled mess of your hair, the way your pants are undone, your hand trembling where it’s pressed to your stomach. The tear tracks down your cheeks. The blood. And Yeonjun, Yeonjun is killing someone.

Soobin doesn’t hesitate. He rushes over, voice caught in his throat, and reaches for you slowly, carefully, like you might shatter. He pulls you into him, your sobs muffled against his shoulder, arms wrapping tight around you as if to hold the broken pieces together.

Choi Beomgyu gazed at the fading ink scattered across his atlas, a map once full of purpose, now a constellation of lost turns. His eyes wandered the streets around him, searching for a thread to lead him back to the place he used to call home.

He had barely lifted his foot when your face came back again. Your eyes, wide with something between wonder and warning. The way you tilted your head when you were about to say something you knew he’d carry for days. Not even an hour had gone by where you didn’t consume his thoughts, knocking the air from his lungs and paralyzing him for a moment. He missed you. Fuck he missed you terribly and it was enough to render him utterly immobile at points.

Slowly, he drew breath back into his lungs, as if your memory had knocked the wind from him again. Your smile lingered in his mind like a permanent mark, something carved so deeply it could never fade.

He didn’t regret much in his life. Not really. But there was one thing that still clung to him in the quiet: saying yes to this project. It had taken him so far away when everything began to fall apart, when the creatures first touched the earth and turned it into something unrecognizable.

He remembered the shape of you in his arms that morning. You were half-asleep, warm against him, head tucked beneath his chin. He had held you tightly, longer than usual, something in his gut whispering that he shouldn’t go. That he should stay.

You had been tender that week, more emotional than usual, your morning sickness growing worse by the day. You tried to wave it off, brushing his worry aside with a soft laugh, saying you could handle it. But he knew the truth without needing the words. He didn’t want to stay because you were fragile. He wanted to stay because he loved you. Because something in him already knew that those small moments beside you were more precious than anything the world could offer.

And now, as the world burned quietly behind him, all he could think about was how badly he wished he had listened to himself.

You were the one who gave his life direction. The one who turned his quiet ambitions into somewhere full of heart.

He still remembered the first time he really saw you, serious eyes behind the glasses you used to wear, walking across the college grounds like you belonged to another world. He noticed everything. The way you tucked your hair behind your ear. The soft shift in your lip gloss, from peach to plum.

You didn’t even know it, but you changed everything.

He started showing up in places he had no reason to be. Hallways, benches, classrooms that had nothing to do with his schedule. He didn’t care. If there was a chance of crossing your path, that was reason enough. He used to dream about doing big things, things that would make the world remember his name.

With you, he didn’t want to be remembered. He just wanted to matter.

Where is he now, without you by his side?

His chest tightens, another tear threatening to fall questions flash through his mind. Where are you? Are you safe? Are you eating well? How are you holding up? How could he have left you? Alone, pregnant, in the middle of all this ruin?

His body trembles, but he keeps his lips sealed. He wants to scream, to let the pain claw its way out, but he knows — if he does, if he lets himself fall apart, he may never find his way back to you.

He exhales shakily, eyes scanning his atlas again. He traces the route with his finger, committing it to memory, over and over, as if repetition alone might lead him back to you.

He opens his bag and spots the other notebook, the one he had been working on for days. On the nights he couldn’t sleep, he wrote. Plans. Escape routes out of the city. A way to get you out.

He dreamed of getting you onto a boat, finding an island. Somewhere the monsters wouldn’t follow, because he noticed they never touched the water. It became an obsession. He fell deep into it, mapping out every detail. He wrote about how to plant seeds, how to care for them, how to harvest and store food so it would last. He filled pages with water purification methods, survival skills, solar energy setups.

He wrote everything he could; every instruction, every method, every technical detail, even the tender, private things no one ever teaches you to write about. He couldn’t help it. When the nights stretched on too long and sleep wouldn't come, he found himself scribbling through the quiet, as if the act of planning could hold the world together.

He even wrote about how to deliver a child.

You’re going to be a doctor. He knows that. You’ve studied the science, memorized the steps, probably laughed at the outdated textbook he clung to like scripture. Still, he copied it all down, page after page. Not because you needed it. But because he needed it, needed to feel like he was doing something, anything, to be useful to you. To be ready for the moment he might never see.

He wanted so badly to be there. To hold your hand. To keep you steady through the pain. To see the first breath, the first cry. To help you bring life into a world that had done nothing but try to take it.

But he wasn’t sure life would give him that chance.

So he wrote as if he could carve a future into the pages. He planned for a life he might never live, for a child he might never hold, because loving you meant preparing for everything, even the parts he’d never get to share.

He did it because, without question, he would give his life for yours.

He starts walking with heavy heart.

He can't wait to see your face again.

You eat the cereal with your hands. It’s warm, soft on your palms.

"Did you check that spot too?" Soobin asks, his voice low as he takes another bite. "We should mark it before we forget."

"I did," Yeonjun answers, cradling his cup, "We could go further south if we push a little."

Soobin nods slowly, chewing the last of his food. Then he turns to you. "You want seconds?"

They always ask you that. They always wait for your answer, like they won’t take more unless you say no, as if your hunger matters more than theirs.

You shake your head. "No, I’m full. If I eat more, I’ll probably throw up again. Everything’s been... hitting harder lately."

Yeonjun watches you, something flickering in his eyes, he adjusts his backpack, but his attention doesn’t leave you. "You want me to bring you something? Anything?"

It’s been a month since you last saw them. Now, you’re almost three months along. Your belly is still small, but there’s a pressure growing beneath your skin. A heaviness that feels alive.

"I want to go," you say quietly. "I didn’t go yesterday."

Yeonjun lets out a breath and looks at Soobin. "Fine. You're sticking to Soobin."

Soobin reaches for your plate without a word and tosses it into the trash bag. The small gesture is gentle, almost second nature. You watch as the two of them move around the room, gathering what they need like it’s routine now; water, packs, weapons. You quietly sling your own bag over your shoulder, your eyes sweeping over the basement.

You’d only known them for a week when the three of you stumbled on this place. A half-flooded stairwell led you down into silence. Down here, everything is muffled. For a little while, it let you talk without fear. For a little while, it felt safe.

It was here you learned Yeonjun used to be in the military, an intelligence officer. The way he spoke about it was calm, detached, and it explained how he was able to kill the man who hurt you easily. It made sense now, how he moved, how he watched the world like he was still in a war.

Soobin was a journalist, once. You weren’t sure what kind of stories he used to tell, but something in his eyes said he’d seen more than he ever planned to write.

The three of you had your places in the old world. You belonged somewhere, back when society had a shape, but now you’re all pressed together in this dark, breathing basement. No roles, no titles. Three people trying to hold on, and somehow, even the ground feels like it could turn against you.

You tried to explore the city whenever you could. You wanted to believe you were helping, thay you were doing something for find your husband.

Yeonjun once told you, "If Beomgyu’s alive, he’ll come to you. To this city." And that was enough. Enough to keep you here. Enough to make you stay, even when everything in you wanted to run and search every corner of the world.

You still went with them most of the time — on supply runs, short recon trips, but the days were getting harder. Morning sickness hit you like a wave that never let up. Some mornings, you couldn’t even lift your head off the pillow. The room would spin, and your stomach would twist until you were dry heaving into whatever you could reach.

But when Yeonjun and Soobin left without you, and you're all alone, all you could think was; What if he’s out there right now? What if today was the day he came, and you weren’t there? What if he leaves again, thinking you’ve already gone?

It was unbearable.

You feel it rising in your throat again, the nausea curling sharp and bitter, but you force it down. You don’t have a photo of him. Nothing physical to hold onto. All you could offer Yeonjun was a description: long hair, brown eyes, a soft nose. His kind eyes.

You stand. Your body is begging you to rest, but you won’t.

You’re going to find him.

You walk slowly, every step careful. Soobin trails a step behind you, equally silent. Yeonjun moves ahead, eyes scanning the surroundings with his keen eyes. He’s always the first to enter, the first to clear the way. You’re nearing the place now, the one they thought might hold something useful.

You stop at the edge of the road, eyes sweeping the stretch ahead. There’s not a soul in sight. Just the skeletal remains of the world; empty cars rusting in place, glass glittering like ice on cracked pavement. A city caught mid-breath and never exhaled.

Yeonjun gives a signal. One hand raised, sharp and brief. Soobin nods and disappears inside with him. You stay outside.

You stand there alone, heart echoing against your ribs, eyes tracing the silence. You think of your mom. Wonder if she and her husband made it out. If they found shelter. If they’re warm. You think of Taehyun and Kai — how they promised to meet you, how you couldn’t wait to tell them the news. You wanted them to be godfathers. You pictured their stunned smiles, the way they’d tease each other about who the baby would love more.

Now you just hope they’re breathing.

Your throat tightens. Your eyes start to sting, and you blink too fast, hoping the tears will stay where they are. There’s a deep ache rising, slow and thick, like something caught in your chest that won’t move.

Are you giving up?

You turn your head.

To your right, there's a figure. It's still. Watching you.

Your breath snags in your chest. For a second, everything stops. Then your body moves before your mind can catch up, your feet carrying you forward, faster, harder. You feel a jagged stone bite into your heel, but you don’t care. You can’t stop.

You’re not even close yet, but he opens his arms.

That smile —so boyish, so heartbreakingly familiar — spreads across his face like sunlight cracking through storm clouds. His eyes full of disbelief and relief and something so painfully tender, it breaks you.

You feel him breath.

You’re home.

Two men inside the store stops to watch. In a world so cruel, so damned, there’s something hopeful in the way two lovers find each other again. In the ash of everything lost, something warm still flickers.

Beomgyu can’t stop touching you.

He hasn’t said a single word. None of you have. When Soobin and Yeonjun stepped out of the store and saw you still wrapped in his arms, it was like Beomgyu already knew everything.

He knew you’d been with them. He knew they kept you safe.

Now he walks beside you, never letting go of your hand. His fingers stay wrapped around yours, warm and steady, like he’s afraid you might disappear again if he loosens his grip. Every few steps, he squeezes your hand — three times. You remember what it means. His thumb keeps brushing over your palm. His eyes flick down often, scanning the ground ahead of you, making sure there’s nothing sharp or dangerous in your path. He’s guiding you, gently, without needing to say a thing.

As you neared the entrance to the basement, Yeonjun and Soobin wordlessly veered off toward another path. They didn’t need to say anything, it was clear they were giving you and Beomgyu a moment alone. Your heart swelled with gratitude.

You turned to look at them, eyes wide, a smile breaking across your face as if to say; I found him. It was written in every part of you, in the way your shoulders had softened, in the way your steps felt lighter, in the light blooming behind your eyes.

Soobin smiled back instantly, almost proudly, like he’d been waiting for this moment just as much.

You never really were.

“Be careful.” You freeze.

It’s the first time you’ve heard his voice again, echoing gently down the narrow stairwell. You’re halfway down, and Beomgyu is just below you, one step lower. His hand is wrapped around yours, steady, guiding, making sure you don’t rush the descent. He watches your footing, not because he doubts you, but because he can’t bear the thought of you falling — even now, even for a second.

When your feet finally reach the floor, your chest tightens and your breath breaks. Before he can say a word, you pull him into your arms, hard, your face burying into the space between his neck and shoulder. Your body clings like it remembers the shape of him better than your mind ever could.

He catches you with a quiet laugh, though you feel the way it shakes in his chest. “What is this?” he murmurs, arms wrapping tight around you. “I’m usually the clingy one.”

“Shut up,” you whisper, already crying. “I missed you so much. I can’t— I can’t believe you found me. I kept hoping but... I didn’t know if hoping was enough.”

You feel him breathe in, shakily, “I looked for you every day,” he says, his voice thick, barely keeping steady. “Every goddamn day. I didn’t care what was out there. I just… needed to find you.”

He pulls back only enough to see your face, to brush your tears away with trembling fingers. “I promised you, didn’t I?” he whispers.

His lips press to the crown of your head. His arms tighten around you like he’s trying to put you back together just by holding you. You close your eyes, and when he kisses you again — your hair, your temple, your cheek, something in you breaks open. The tears come fast and uncontrollable.

Every moment you had suffered alone fades under the warmth of him.

“I told you I’d find you,” his voice cracks. “I told you I’d get to you. I’d get you back.” His hands slide from your shoulders to cradle your face. His thumbs brush your tears.

“How’s my wife?” he continues, “Has it… has it all been too much? I’m so sorry. And the baby — ” his voice falters, eyes glistening. “How’s our baby?”

You guide one of his hands to your stomach. His eyes drop, and when his palm meets the curve of you, he stills. His breath catches like he’s forgotten how to breathe.

“We’re okay,” you whisper. “I’ve managed. Somehow.” You let out a soft laugh through your tears, and he smiles, completely undone.

“I’m here now,” he says, his hand never leaving yours. His eyes find yours and hold there, “I’m not going anywhere. I won’t leave you again. Not ever.”

You look into his eyes, and the world blurs around the edges.

In them, you see a thousand versions of the man you’ve loved. The boy with sleepy eyes and ink-stained fingers, laughing across a college hallway. The groom with trembling hands, choking back tears as he vowed to stay. And now, husband worn by distance, a father held together by hope. A man who found you through ruin because loving you never stopped being his compass.

You nod, and then your body moves on instinct, into his arms, into the only place that’s ever truly felt like home.

He catches you, like he always has.

It doesn’t undo the nights you slept with a hand on your belly and silence as your only lullaby. It doesn’t erase the fear, the ache, the long quiet suffering of missing someone like breath.

But as your tears spill freely, soaking into the space where his heartbeat thuds against yours, you know those days have ended.

You stir the pot with a soft smile, the warm scent of the soup rising around you. Beside you, Beomgyu quietly sets out the plates, his own smile lingering as he watches you in silence. Carefully, you begin to ladle the soup, dividing it evenly between four bowls.

“Perfect timing. I’m starving,” Soobin announces as he steps in from the basement entrance, Yeonjun close behind, dropping his bag with a thud.

Everyone started eating silently.

The fire had burned low, its soft embers glowing red in the center of the dark room. You sat close to Beomgyu, your knee brushing his. His hand hadn’t let go of yours since you all sat down. Beomgyu cleared his throat, making Yeonjun looked up from where he sat. Soobin turned his head slowly, his brows slightly raised.

Beomgyu didn’t look at them right away. His gaze was fixed on the floor, the firelight casting shadows across his face. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. What I’d say. How I’d say it. But I don’t think there’s a right way.”

He finally looked up, and when he did, there was something heavy behind his eyes. “Thank you,” he said, voice catching a little. “Yeonjun. Soobin. You didn’t have to take care of her. You didn’t owe me anything. But you did. You kept her safe. You made sure she had something to eat. A place to sleep. You looked out for her when I couldn’t.”

Yeonjun shook his head. “Of course we did.”

Beomgyu shook his head back, more firmly. “No. You don’t understand. You saved my family.” He swallowed hard. “That’s something I’ll never forget.”

Soobin’s jaw flexed, like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. Beomgyu took a breath. “But I didn’t come here just to say thank you. I found something and I think it’s our only chance.”

You looked at him, heart beginning to pound. His grip on your hand tightened slightly. “I watched the monster,” he said. “I got close enough to learn how it moves. What it wants. And I found out what it’s afraid of.”

Soobin leaned forward. “What?”

“Water,” Beomgyu said. “It won’t cross it. I tried. I led it toward the river. As soon as I stepped in, it stopped chasing me. Like it hit an invisible wall. I waited, and it never came closer.”

Yeonjun sat up straighter. “You’re sure?”

“I’d bet my life on it,” Beomgyu said. “Which is why I’m done hiding. I’m done letting it trap us in basements and shelters and holes in the ground.”

He turned to look at you, and for a second it was like you were the only two people in the room. “I want her to live. Really live. Not in fear. Not underground. I want her to breathe fresh air and feel sunlight without checking over her shoulder. I want a life with her. As my wife, with our child who can laugh freely. On our own terms.” You felt your throat tighten, his words sinking deep into your chest.

Beomgyu turned back to the others. “There’s an island. I found it a while ago in the map. It’s surrounded by water on all sides, and it’s untouched. It's safe, the monster won’t reach it. We could build something and start over.”

Soobin rubbed a hand over his face, thinking hard. “How far?”

“Two or three days’ travel, depending on how we move,” Beomgyu answered. “It’s not easy, but it’s not impossible either.”

“You really believe this’ll work?” It was Yeonjun.

“I have to,” Beomgyu said. “Because I’m not going to lock her in another basement and pretend it’s living. Not when I know there’s more out there.”

There was a silence. A deep, contemplative one. You could feel the shift in the air as the weight of his words landed. Soobin’s voice broke the quiet. “You’re right. We’ve been surviving for so long, I think we forgot what it means to hope for something better.”

Beomgyu looked between them, his chest rising with a shaky breath. “You’ll come?”

“We’re with you,” Soobin said.

“Let’s get out of here,” Yeonjun added, nodding his head.

Beomgyu turned to you again, eyes soft, voice barely above a whisper. “You ready?”

You nodded, your voice caught in your throat, but your hand in his said everything.

To live.

Your bare feet press into the cool earth as you quietly follow Beomgyu. His hands are warm, fingers gently wrapped around yours.

It’s late. When Beomgyu heard there was a river nearby, he didn’t hesitate, he brought you with him. A backpack rests against his back, packed with clothes you’re supposed to change into later. He stops at the riverbank, his hands giving yours a soft squeeze as he takes in the scene. You follow his gaze. The moonlight spills over everything, silver and soft, making the water shimmer.

All you can hear is the steady rush of the river and the beat of your own heart.

Beomgyu drops the bag with a quiet thud that still manages to startle you. You squeeze his hand to catch his attention. He turns to you, a tender, mischievous warmth flickering in his eyes.

I got you.

He helps you change, careful and quiet, his touch reverent like he’s handling something fragile. His eyes never leave you. They stay soft, full of something deeper than want. He watches you like he's trying to remember this forever, like every small shift of your body is something precious. You move, and he watches — not in hunger, but in awe. He leans in and kisses you, a small, delicate thing at first, like he couldn’t help himself. Then again. And again. Each kiss is a little longer, a little deeper, breaking the stillness of the night with something tender and aching.

Every time a piece of clothing falls away, his lips find a new place —your mouth, your jaw, the curve of your collarbone. His hands are slow but searching, both greedy and gentle, as though he’s trying to memorize you in the dark. The space around you is filled with breath, the whisper of fabric being pulled away, the quiet gasp of skin meeting night air. He takes his time — not because he has to, but because he wants to. The world has fallen away. There’s no fear.

You should feel exposed. Vulnerable. You should feel small out here, with nothing to hide behind but night and moonlight. Monsters do walk the earth. But right now, with his hands on your skin and his mouth pressed to your shoulder, none of that feels real.

All you feel is him. And all you feel is you're with him.

When you’re both down to your underwear, he laces his fingers with yours and gently pulls you toward the water. Your clothes lie scattered behind you, his backpack nearby, forgotten in the hush of it all.

You let out a quiet gasp the moment the water touches your skin. It’s colder than you expected, sharp enough to steal your breath. Beomgyu hears it and a boyish smile blooms on his face like it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

You both begin to move, letting the river cling to your bodies. You dip your hands into it, run it through your hair, over your arms. Beomgyu steps in closer and helps you, brushing wet strands from your face, smoothing water over your shoulders with slow, open palms. He never stops smiling.

He's painfully, achingly beautiful.

You can't stop looking at him. Even like this — drenched, flushed, eyes shining, you couldn't believe he's here. With you.

Then, in the hush, his voice cuts through the air. “Do you know how much I love you?”

You freeze. Your heart kicks up, your body reacting before your mind can catch up. You snap your hand over his mouth, eyes wide, panic flooding your chest. He’s not supposed to speak. You both know that. Your breath quickens. His eyes search yours, calm even as yours fill with fear. Then, with both hands, he gently pulls yours away from his mouth. And shouts.

“I FUCKING LOVE YOU.”

You gasp, the sound sharp, almost wounded. It slips out before you can catch it. The fear floods you so fast it feels like drowning — your chest tightens, your eyes flick to every corner of the dark, waiting for something awful to rise from it.

But Beomgyu is already there.

You try to believe him, but your body won’t let go of the panic. Your eyes keep searching, flicking past him to the trees, the edges, the places where darkness pools. He sees it — every trace of it. His hands slide up to your face, cradling you gently, and he turns your gaze back to him.

“Look at me,” he says, quiet but firm. “Baby, look at me.”

He holds your face like it’s something breakable. Like you’re something precious. His eyes are full of everything, “I’m here,” he says, and his voice wavers. “You can speak here. With me. It’s safe.”

You didn’t expect those words to undo you.

But they do.

Tears rise fast, burning at the edges of your eyes before you can blink them away. Your chest caves in, your breath catching on a sob that doesn’t quite make it out, because it’s not just the fear — but it's the feel of safety. His lips press to your temple, over and over, slow and steady, like he’s kissing every thought away. Every fear. Every shadow.

“Beomgyu.” Of all the things you could’ve said, it's the only thing that makes out of your lips and he hears it. He holds you tighter, arms locking around you like he can feel the way you’re coming apart. Like he’s the only thing keeping you from collapsing.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, barely audible. “I’ve always got you.”

And for the first time in a long time, you feel like the old you again.

Not the one shaped by fear. Not the one always looking over their shoulder, waiting for the world to crack open, but the version of you that could breathe without flinching. The one that could laugh without guilt. The one that still believed in softness, in safety, in being held without needing to run.

You think about his plan. You see him on that island. Sunlight in his hair. Laughter in his mouth. His hand still in yours. You see quiet mornings. Salt in the air. Your child running through the sand.

It surprises you — how quickly it comes back. How easily Beomgyu pulls it from wherever it’s been buried. Just by being here. Just by looking at you like you’re still whole. You rest your forehead against his, still trembling, still wet with tears, but lighter, like some part of you had been locked away and he just found the key without even trying.

His thumb brushes your cheek.

You rise onto your toes and kiss him lightly, a whisper against his mouth. He answers with a groan, his hands, already firm around your waist, tighten, drawing you closer. Your bodies press together, water running down your skin.

It all blurs after that.

You don’t remember how he led you out of the river, or when your feet touched dry earth again. All you know is the feeling of his mouth never straying far from yours, his hands guiding you with quiet urgency, his breath tangled with yours. You feel the soft fabric of your clothes beneath your back, a supposed anchor on the ground, but it’s him that keeps you from floating.

His kisses come fast, deep, like he’s afraid to stop. You try to pull back to catch your breath, your lips swollen and wet, but he finds you again instantly, like your mouth is the only place he knows how to go. You breathe through your nose, one hand on his shoulder, the other tangled in his hair, holding him close even as you try to steady yourself. It’s overwhelming — how much he wants you, how much he loves you, how much he means it.

“Beomgyu…” You moaned as you clenched your fist on his dark locks. His tongue was doing to your buds as his fingers part your wet folds. Your legs quivered as his tongue lapped at your entrance.

Beomgyu grunts as he hears your soft moans, sucking on your clit to hear more. Your taste in his mouth got him drunk as he shook his head from side to side, making your moans go higher as you moved your hips to grind your wetness on his tongue. "Hmm?"

He pulled back, replacing his tongue with his thumb, rubbing your wet clit as he kissed and sucked your inner thighs. Your eyes rolled back as your chest rose up and down, glistening with sweat.

You're fucking beautiful. Beomgyu thought as he looked up at you with hooded eyes. Your hooded eyes met his. The sight of your blushing cheeks, eyes asking for more with your lips between your teeth made Beomgyu slightly rut his hips on the bed.

“Out here?” You asked. He pumped a finger inside your pussy, curling it to hit your spot as he put his mouth back to work again, flattening his tongue over your swollen pearl before flicking it with the tip. You cried out in pleasure, throwing your head back. “Shit,”

“I’m so sorry, baby. I just couldn't help myself.” He begged as he doubled the finger inside your soaking cunt, making you cry out in pleasure as your hands gripped his steady shoulders. “I'll take care of you, okay?”

“I missed you.” He kissed your clit, making you whimper at the brief contact. He kissed your skin tracing everything. He kissed around your nipple before taking it into his mouth, moaning at the taste of you. He moved to your other nipple, lightly biting it while staring at your glossy eyes, making your breath hitch. He hummed as he sucked the pebbled flesh into his mouth, nibbling on it. Once satisfied, he pulls back, admiring your body as you panted. Your eyes are glistening, and so is your cunt. He groaned at the sight, pushing his hair back and palms his erected cock.

“Beomgyu, please…” You cried when Beomgyu started to rub his shaft on your slit. You're sensitive. Every time his head hits your bud, you let out a whimper, eyebrows furrowed and eyes wide as you look up at him.

Beomgyu took his time, grunting before pushing the tip inside. You gasped, feeling his length invade you. Your walls fluttered around his cock, making him let out low growls. His other hand began rubbing circles on your clit to ease the burn from the stretch.

Beomgyu kissed your bracelet when he was entirely in. You look gorgeous underneath him. Legs wide open,mouth slightly parted, and body glistening under the dim lights of the moon.

Beomgyu started moving slowly when you nod your head, careful to not give any pressure to your stomach, until your whimpers turned into moans. His name echoed in whispers, as you clawed on the skin of his back, leaving red marks. He was cradling your head, and his lips pressed on your ear. He was whispering the sweetest things to you.

“You’re made for me. You were made for me that I couldn't stop thinking about you everyday we were apart.” Beomgyu growled, kissing your ear lobes.

“Yes, yes, Beomgyu, please… I've missed you so much.” You begged as his hips started to thrust harder into you.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He groaned, feeling your walls clench around him. He could tell that you were both close. Your walls spasmed around him, and his thrust started to stutter.

“I love you. So fucking much.” He stared into your eyes, feeling your orgasm take over your body. His mouth reaches for your sweet lips, your toes curling as your legs wrap around his waist. Beomgyu spilled his load inside you.

The world feels soft.

Beomgyu laughs — just a breath of it, barely a sound. He’s looking at you, eyes warm and shining, hair a mess. There's a smile on your lips, one that you know wouldn't go away anytime soon. “I think we should probably wash again,”

You let out a shaky laugh of your own, nodding slowly. “Yeah… probably.”

He grins and leans over to kiss you again, quick and sweet this time, before pulling himself up and reaching for your hand. You take it, and he helps you stand. The grass sticks to your skin. You both look like a mess.

A beautiful, completely loved mess.

Beomgyu keeps close, brushing his hands over your back, your shoulders, helping you rinse off with the same kind of careful attention he always gives you. Even now, even after everything, he still wants to take care of you. You splash a bit of water at him, half on accident, half on purpose, and the way he laughs makes your chest ache. In the middle of a broken world, you found something that made you forget.

You would’ve begged him to stay.

You're jolted awake by a rough, urgent shake.

A gasp escapes your lips as your eyes fly open, meeting Beomgyu’s — wide and panicked. He doesn’t say a word, just presses a finger to his mouth. You hear shuffling somewhere nearby, feet scuffing the floor. The sound drags you fully upright as Beomgyu hauls you to your feet.

Yeonjun’s voice cuts through the dark, you don’t catch the words, but the tension in his tone curls around your chest. You feel your heart pounding at your back, thudding like footsteps too close behind.

You’re confused. You’re supposed to be asleep. Supposed to wake up with the sun, gather your things, and head for the island like you planned. So why are you being woken up now?

“Hey,” Beomgyu whispers, leaning in close. “We need to move. Now. Stay right next to me. Don’t let go.” You nod, too scared to speak.

You slip out of the room, makeshift curtains brushing against your arms like ghosts. Your breath catches as your eyes land on a man standing at the entrance to the basement, someone you've never seen before.

An intruder.

His eyes are wide. There's dirt on his clothes, blood maybe, and in his shaking hand, he holds a gun. In one swift movement, Beomgyu steps in front of you, shielding you completely from view. His body becomes a wall.

"Leave now," the man growls. His voice is rough, edged with fear. "Or I’ll fucking shoot."

Soobin’s voice rises from somewhere to your right, “And bring every monster straight to us?” He takes a careful step forward. “We’ll leave. You can have this place, just put the gun down.”

“Where are you going?” the man demands, pointing the gun. “Tell me.” His voice is unsteady, laced with paranoia. His eyes flick from face to face, wild and unfocused. “Do I have to kill you all?” he mutters, almost to himself. “You’ll know I’m here. You’ll all know. Food, food’s making everyone lose their minds. I have to kill you.”

His finger twitches. The click of the gun being cocked cuts through the room like a blade.

“No!” Soobin shouts. In a flash, Yeonjun lunges forward, slamming into the man. They hit the ground hard, bodies twisting, the gun scraping against the floor.

“Fuck — stop it!” someone yells. It might be Beomgyu. It might be you. You don’t know. You’re shaking. Your legs won’t hold steady, all you know is Beomgyu grabbed your hand, pulling you back, pulling you away.

The gun goes off. For a moment, everything stops. The sound still ringing in your ears, but the basement has fallen into a dead, ringing silence.

The door is wide open. You don’t have to be told — they’re coming. They heard it.

You stumble to the side, eyes scanning the room. The stranger lies crumpled on the floor, a pool of blood spreading beneath him. Yeonjun’s hands are still pressed to the man’s neck, trembling. “Fuck,” he breathes. “Soobin—”

You turn and see Soobin clutching his thigh, blood seeping through his fingers. His face is pale, jaw clenched tight as he leans into the wall for support.

“They heard that,” you say. “The monsters. We need to move. Now.”

Beomgyu pulls you forward, stumbling through the basement entrance as the first screech slices through the night. It's not far. It's too close. Your chest feels like it might cave in. Behind you, Soobin’s limping, dragging his leg. Blood streaks down his thigh, every step a raw, gritted miracle. Yeonjun is practically holding him up, jaw clenched.

You turn to Beomgyu. “Help them.” He pauses, eyes locking with yours, hesitation written all over his face. Fear.

"Go," you whisper again, voice cracking. “Please.”

Soobin sees Beomgyu step in to help, “Fuck No,” he growls. “Don’t even fucking think about it. Take her and go.”

“You’re bleeding out,” Beomgyu fires back. “I’m not leaving you like this.”

“You will,” Soobin spits, swaying. “Y/N is the one who matters. You know that. We’re dead weight. If you stay, she dies too. They will die too.”

You want to scream at him. To punch him. To beg him to shut up and run, instead, your voice comes out hollow. “Don’t do this.”

“We’ll find you,” Yeonjun looks at you. “Just—keep going. If we’re not at the docks in thirty minutes…” He doesn’t finish.

The next screech tears through the trees.

Soobin pushes Beomgyu with what strength he has left. “GO! We'll die here.”

You shake your head, barely able to breathe as your body trembles beneath the weight of what’s happening. Beomgyu’s hand wraps around yours, tugging —pulling you away but your feet refuse to move.

Your eyes stay locked on them.

On the two people who’ve saved you more times than you can count. Who shielded you when the world was falling apart. Soobin is barely standing now, blood soaking through his pants, the stain growing darker with every step. You know what that means. Without help, without first aid, without a blood transfusion — he won’t make it.

You know it like a law of nature.

Yeonjun catches your stare. He holds your gaze, and in his eyes, you see no plan but one truth. He’s not letting Soobin die alone.

The tears come faster now, hot and aching, slipping down your face like they’re trying to carve the grief into your skin. You want to hold it in — to bite your tongue, to stay composed, to be the version of yourself they would’ve needed but something in you breaks.

You remember Soobin’s soft, tired smile as he passed you his last piece of bread. The way Yeonjun would nudge you during tense nights just to remind you he was still there. You remember the warmth of their presence when everything else was cold and cruel. You remember laughing with them once.

Would you have been friends if the world hadn’t ended? If you met in some ordinary place with clean air and normal lives? Would Soobin still have been loud and protective, would Yeonjun still have had that steadiness that made you feel safe? Would they still have chosen you?

Would you have been friends?

Your chest crumples, folding inward under the weight of guilt and sorrow you weren’t ready to carry. You hate yourself for it — for moving, for breathing, for leaving when all you want is to run back and hold onto them until the monsters take you too. How do you live with this? How do you keep going when you know the last thing they saw was you, walking away?

Beomgyu’s hand is still in yours. Tight. It was as if he could read your mind. He pulls you forward. You take one last look at the place that held the only people who made you feel safe.

They don't look at you.

The boat rocks beneath you, a fragile cradle adrift in an endless stretch of black water. It creaks softly, as though mourning its own presence in this place. All around, the lake swallows light and sound alike, vast and terrible. The moon hangs overhead; distant, cold, and half-hidden behind slow-moving clouds, offering only the faintest glow, just enough to paint a silver line across the rippling surface.

Beomgyu crouches near the motor, his breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. His fingers tremble as they fumble with the ignition. You see the way his shoulders curl inward, how his body fights the cold and the fear. Each breath he draws fogs the air like a whisper of everything unsaid between you.

A violent jerk. The motor snarls to life. A metallic scream that shatters the silence, ripping through the night like a wound torn open too fast.

From across the water, something shrieks. It’s high-pitched, keening, filled with something ancient and wrong. The sound claws at your spine, drags your heart into your throat. Beomgyu swears, as he slams the switch off. The motor stutters, dies. Silence crashes back down, heavier than before, suffocating.

He turns to you. His face is pale, eyes wide, wild, but not breaking. There’s something in his expression: an apology, a promise, a plea.

He’s scared.

Your throat closes. You shake your head, violently, as if you can shake away the sound, the cold, the truth. Tears burn hot as they spill down your cheeks, turning everything to watercolor — his face, the sky, the glint of water around you. “No,” you whisper, then louder. “No. No. No.”

He cups your face in both hands. His touch is gentle but urgent, like he’s trying to memorize you through his fingertips. His thumbs brush away the tears even as more fall. He leans in until his forehead rests against yours, his breath shallow, his voice barely a whisper.

“Listen to me,” he says, as if you’re the only thing left in the world worth speaking to. “The lighthouse. If I set off the alarm, they’ll come to it. All of them. It’s the only way.” His voice cracks, but he doesn’t pull back. “I promise I’ll come back to you. As soon as I can. Okay?”

You can’t breathe.

You’re drowning on dry land, lungs stuttering in your chest. Your hand flies to your mouth, stifling a sob that wants to tear its way free. Your shoulders shake, and you’re shaking your head, hard, as if denial could somehow become magic, could rewrite this moment, this choice. Could unmake the dark.

He grabs your shoulders now, steadying you, grounding you. You feel the strength in his grip, but it’s the fear underneath it that nearly undoes you.

“I’ll come back,” he says again, softer now. Like a lullaby meant to soothe a child before the storm hits. “I swear it. I’ll just set the alarm. That’s all. I’ll be fast. It’s only a monster or two, right?” He tries to smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “It’s loud enough — they’ll follow it. They always do.”

You’re gasping, shoulders heaving, eyes wide with terror. You reach for him, mouthing please, please, like a prayer torn from your soul, like the word alone could hold him here with you.

“Turn on the motor,” he says, voice barely above the sound of the water lapping against the boat. “Wait until I set it off. Then you go.”

Your breath catches in your throat, the word scraping out of you like glass. “No.” It’s barely a sound, a whimper with nothing behind it but pain. He leans in again, presses a trembling hand to your chest, right over your heart. You can feel the heat of him, the pulse in his palm, how human he is and how fragile.

“I’ll always come back to you,” he whispers, like it’s a truth that can live beyond this night. “I’ll always be with you.”

Then his voice breaks. Just for a moment. A single crack that shatters everything. “Do it for me. Do it for our child.” he says, eyes glistening now. “Please. Can you promise me that?”

You want to scream. You want to grab him, hold him, drag him back into the boat and never let go. You want to tear the sky open, to rage at whatever gods let this happen, but all you can do is shake.

Tears stream down your face, silent and relentless. Panic floods your lungs, thick and sharp, suffocating you from the inside.

It’s small. Weak. A terrified, shaking nod that you gave him.

It’s enough for him.

Beomgyu leans in, pressing a trembling kiss to your forehead. His hands come to rest on your stomach, fingers splayed, clinging to the shape of a future he’s terrified of losing. His breath stutters as he closes his eyes, trying to hold himself together, trying to find the courage to do what he must.

He thinks of you, every night you held him when the world felt too heavy, every morning he woke to your warmth, your voice, your smile. He thinks of the moment he first saw you, how everything shifted. And now, he thinks of the tiny heartbeat beneath his palms. His baby. The life you made together. His throat burns. He doesn’t want to go.

He doesn’t want to leave.

He doesn’t want to leave you.

When he looks at you again, his eyes are glassy, his jaw clenched like he's fighting something inside himself. For a second, he looks like he might undo it all. Like he might fall to his knees, beg forgiveness for even thinking of leaving. You see it in the way his mouth opens, closes. The way his fingers twitch against your skin.

He exhales, as if he was surrendering.

He runs.

His feet hit the dock, loud and jarring against the soaked wood. You watch his silhouette stretch, then blur, then vanish into the fog, swallowed whole by the night. Your body wanted to run after him.

The motor is silent, the water uncaring. Your sobs fill the space he left behind. You cover your mouth with both hands, curling in on yourself, choking on everything you can’t say.

Grief doesn’t care about survival.

Out in the distance, the lighthouse looms — a black tower against a blacker sky. A smudge of shadow, barely visible through the fog.

The siren starts.

It erupts without warning, a scream of metal and wind, a shriek that splits the night down its spine. It wails — long, unrelenting, merciless. A sound made to summon death.

The monsters answer.

You hear them first — screeches rising from the treeline and the water’s edge, inhuman and furious. Then you see them. Dozens. Maybe more. Crawling from the dark, leaping like shadows pulled by strings, limbs too long. They move toward the sound, toward the light.

Toward him.

Drawn like moths to flame.

You’re frozen. Paralyzed in the center of the rocking boat, breath locked in your lungs. The siren still echoes in your ears, though it's fading now — its afterimage seared into your mind like lightning behind your eyelids.

It stops.

The alarm cuts out mid-wail, a guillotine of silence. The absence of sound is deafening, unnatural. And you know.

You know what it means.

Your body doesn’t move, can’t move. Only your eyes, wide and glassy, locked on the lighthouse in the distance. Come on. Come out now. You can't even speak his name.

Dark shapes twist and writhe around it — shadows crawling over stone, blotting out the structure in violent waves. The creatures consumed. You watch helplessly as they pour over every surface, spilling like oil, thick and writhing, until the tower looks like it's bleeding darkness. Your heart stops.

Do it for me. Do it for our child.

Please. Can you promise me that?

Can you promise me that?

You kick the motor. Hard.

It roars to life with a scream like tearing metal. The boat lurches forward violently, cutting through the water. The fog whips past you, moonlight slicing in thin ribbons across the surface. Your sobs vanish in the sound. Swallowed by the engine, the waves, the night.

Why did you let him go? You knew this wouldn’t save him. You knew. So why? You should’ve held on tighter. You should’ve clung to him like your life depended on it because it did. You should’ve buried your face in his chest. Why did you let him go?

You were leaving him.

“Where were you?” you asked, reaching over to grab the strawberry from the basket on the kitchen table. Beomgyu’s chuckle filled the room. “I went drinking with Taehyun and Kai. Just a light drink,” he said casually, his hand brushing your shoulder as he passed behind you to grab a plate.

“Why? Did you miss your husband?” he teased, carefully plating the food before setting it down in front of you.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “You wish.”

He chuckled, handing you a spoon and fork before moving around the kitchen. A tall glass appeared on the table next to your plate and he poured you water.

“Did she miss me too?” Beomgyu’s voice was soft, almost tentative, drawing your gaze upward. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, you were caught in the tenderness there. It made your heart ache in that way only he could.

“She?” You raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at your lips as you swallowed. “What makes you so sure it's a girl?” Your hand instinctively brushed over your stomach as a quiet smile softened your face. The thought of your little one—boy or girl—filled you with a warmth you couldn’t quite put into words.

“I just feel it,” A small smile flickered across his lips, “What if we get twins?”

You looked down, your thoughts wandering to tiny clothes, little shoes scattered across the floor, and pastel-painted walls filled with light and laughter. “That would be… amazing,” you murmured.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Beomgyu pulling out the chair beside you. He sat down at first, but then, almost as if drawn closer by some unseen force, he shifted. You felt his gaze before you saw him—soft, unwavering, and filled with a kind of awe that made your chest tighten.

“That sounds nice, two little you running around.” he breathed, his voice almost a whisper. His hand reached out slowly, brushing against your stomach. You set down your utensils, giving him a soft nod as you shifted slightly, allowing him more access.

Beomgyu lowered himself onto his knees in front of you, his large hands resting gently on either side of your growing belly. He glanced up at you, his eyes searching yours for a brief moment before he let out a long, steady breath. Then, with a tenderness that made your throat tighten, he leaned closer, pressing his forehead gently against your stomach.

“Daddy loves you,” he whispered, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it. He sounded so vulnerable, so small. His lips pressed softly against your stomach. And then, without a word, he wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face against you.

Your hand moved instinctively, threading through his soft hair with slow, soothing strokes. He pulled you closer, as though being near you could quiet the storm in his heart. Your fingers trailed down the back of his neck, over his shoulders, and down his back.

In your dream, you were cradling a baby to your chest, its tiny body safe in your arms. Beomgyu leaned down, smiling widely as you do.

You sat there, staring at nothing. Your face hollow, your eyes dry. You don’t know how long the boat’s been still, you only know it stopped. You must’ve reached the island, but you don’t care.

He's not here.

You don’t remember standing.

One minute you’re sitting there, still and silent, and the next your feet are moving — stiff, like they don’t belong to you. The dock creaks under you as you step off the boat, but even that sound feels distant, like it’s happening to someone else. Trees sway in the wind.

He’s not here.

The ground feels too solid, like it’s mocking you. You stare at your hands, like maybe they’ll stop shaking. You keep walking, because what else is there to do?

One foot in front of the other. The boat pulls away behind you.

He’s not here.

You spot a cabin ahead. A small, weathered thing nestled between the trees—and suddenly, you remember his hunches. He knew this place. He was right. He was always right.

You push the door open. It creaks under your hand. Inside, it’s cramped, barely furnished, but it’s enough. You exhale. For a moment, the silence almost feels like peace.

He’s not here.

“What am I supposed to do now?” The words escape you in a whisper before panic takes hold. Your breath catches, short and ragged, and soon you're gasping. Your chest convulses with sobs you can't control. A scream tears from your throat. You hurl your backpack to the ground. It thuds against the floor. Rage spills out in curses, flung at the walls, at the stillness, at the unbearable absence. You grip your hair, trembling, and begin to rock, trying to hold yourself together as everything else breaks apart.

“You told me…” The words tore from your throat, ragged and broken. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you screamed into the emptiness, hollowed out by the ache twisting through your chest. “You told me you’d come back.”

You cried, long after your voice gave out and your body folded in on itself. Arms wrapped tight around your ribs, as if holding yourself could keep you from falling apart entirely. Your face was hot and swollen, eyes raw from the endless wave of tears.

Again and again, you called his name.

The only sounds are your own ragged sobs and the shallow breaths you no longer want to take. Each inhale feels like a betrayal, each exhale a reminder that you’re the only one alive.

You curled into a fetal position, lost in the tide of your thoughts, barely noticing as the light fades. At some point, the sun slipped beneath the horizon. Now, darkness presses against the windows, and still, you haven’t stirred. The world outside continues on, but in here, time doesn’t move. You don’t move.

Your stomach growls, a hollow, aching sound that reminds you how long it’s been.

You shift to your right, slow and heavy, and your eyes land on your backpack — the one you threw in a fit of something you couldn’t name. It sits there, slouched and half-open, like it gave up, too.Things spill out from the top. Torn corners, bandages, small bottles rattling inside a plastic pouch.

Your chest tightens.

Beomgyu packed it. Every piece. He had gone over it with you more than once, made sure you understood; this is how you clean a wound, this is what you take when your fever spikes, this is what you plant when there’s nothing left. You swallow hard.

Something else is there. Tucked just beneath the flap, barely visible. Something you don’t remember. Something he never mentioned, and before you can even think about it, your body moves on its own. You’re already pushing yourself up, legs unsteady, heart in your throat. You open it, your hands trembling around the edges of a notebook you don’t remember packing.

The pages fall open easily, worn from use. Every single one is filled.

His handwriting. Small, uneven. Rushed, but careful in the way only Beomgyu could be when he was trying to pretend he wasn’t scared. Instructions. Notes. How to plant seeds. When to water them. How to tell when a crop’s gone bad. How to clean water when there’s nothing clean left. How to fish with a line or with nothing at all. How to start a fire even in the rain.

And then, childbirth.

You stare. The words blur. His cramped, chaotic scrawls turn into something wet and aching in your eyes. You let out a breath, shaky and cracked. “Idiot,” you whisper, choking on the sound. “As if you were waiting to die for me.”

The pages tremble as you turn them, one by one, until you reach the end.

The last page. The words there are scrambled, rushed, overlapping like he couldn’t write them fast enough. Your eyes scan them and then your breath catches.

hi, baby.

this might be stupid. really stupid but i couldn’t sleep and i kept thinking... what if? so i wrote this. not because i want you to read it. god, i hope you never do. but just in case. just in case

i’ve seen this kind of thing in movies. the husband leaves a letter, the wife reads it when he’s gone, and everyone cries. that’s not real, right? that’s just a story. …right? i hated it when the wife is alone and she cries alone.

it’s breaking my heart to even think about you reading this. to imagine you alone, holding this, looking for me and not finding me. but tonight, my hands wouldn’t stop shaking until i wrote it.

maybe you’ll need it. maybe something will happen. maybe i’m already gone.

and if i am, i’m so fucking sorry.

you have to know... it would have taken everything in me to walk away from you. if i left, it wasn’t because i wanted to. it was because i had no choice and even then, i wouldn’t have done it without thinking of you every single step. it's not because of you, it's because i wanted to do it for you. it's all me. it's all me okay?

you’ll cry. i know you will. and it kills me, it kills me to think of you hurting. i know how deeply you love. it’s one of the first things i ever adored about you. but please, don’t let it break you. don’t let it swallow you whole, because if i could see you now, if i could hold you one last time, i’d beg you to keep going.

i love you. i love you so much it hurts. i don’t know how to put it into words that feel big enough.

i hope you never need this letter. i hope this just ends up being some stupid, crumpled piece of paper you find years from now and laugh at. i hope i’m just being overdramatic, writing in the dark, because i miss you too much.

if not, if this is the last thing i ever give you.....

then know this: i have no regrets. you gave me a reason to live, and if i can’t be there anymore, you living will be the only reason i can rest.

i love you, wife. i will always, always love you.

and wherever i am, wherever you are — i’ll always be with you.

i swear it.

ps: don't cry too much, okay?

Your hands tremble as you finish reading the letter your husband left behind. Tears spill down your cheeks, stinging your swollen eyes. You clutch the letter to your chest like it’s the only thing keeping you upright, his words still echoing in your mind, sinking deeper with every breath you take. You can barely breathe. You whisper his name in broken sobs, your voice shaking.

“Beomgyu…” His name falls from your lips like a prayer. The words he wrote — those last, aching pieces of his heart — are now etched into yours, carved so deep they’ll never leave.

Choi Beomgyu had loved you until his very last breath.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, the words cracking in your throat. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, ‘Gyu…” You say it again and again, as if some god might hear. As if apologies might bend time and undo death.

As if loving him hard enough, hurting deeply enough, could bring him back to you.

You kneel in the dirt with hands blistered from days of digging. The morning sun is sharp, too bright, like it doesn’t know how much you’ve lost. But you let it burn your skin. It’s easier than thinking.

You unfold the notebook beside you, Beomgyu’s handwriting smudged from when your tears fell on it the first time. He had drawn a simple diagram, barely legible, labeled: Keep corn away from potatoes. A small, crooked heart was doodled at the corner. You stare at it a second too long.

Your hands move, almost automatically, scooping soil, pressing the seeds in just like he wrote. Cover. Water. Pray they grow. You do it again, and again. Row by row. Your knees ache. Your back screams. But you keep going, because he made sure you could.

Later, you find the animals.

Two pigs and a limping cow, left behind like forgotten ghosts. You lure them in with scraps, whisper soft apologies when they flinch. You build a pen from broken wood and wire, fingers bleeding, sweat mixing with dirt on your face. You name the cow Cloud. Beomgyu would’ve laughed at that.

The notebook stays tucked in your waistband now, always with you. You read the same page each morning like a prayer. You will make it. You will live.

So you do.

It’s always the same dream.

Beomgyu is humming. The soft kind he used to do when he didn’t know you were listening. His arms are around you. You feel him breathe against your neck, whispering words that don’t quite form.

Then you blink, and he’s not there.

You wake up choking on a sob. The world is pitch black around you, the fire long since burned out. Your chest rises and falls too fast. You curl into yourself, wrapping your arms around your belly, shaking.

“Beomgyu,” you whisper, barely a voice at all. “Please, just one more night.”

But only the wind answers. A bird calls from somewhere in the trees. You press your palm to where he was supposed sleep beside you, and the cold there is unbearable.

You cry until you forget why you started.

The pain starts at dawn.

You’re bent over the table sorting dried herbs when it hits — a sharp, deep wrenching that doubles you over. You gasp, grabbing the edge of the table, your breath coming fast.

You stagger to the bed. The mattress is lumpy, stuffed with straw and old cloth. You lie down, sweat slicking your forehead, trying to remember what Beomgyu wrote.

Breathe. Stay low to the ground. Keep clean towels nearby. Boil water.

You crawl to the pot. Heat the stove. Prepare, just like the notebook said. The hours stretch long and cruel. You scream once, twice. Bite down on cloth. You curse him for leaving you. You beg him to come back. The contractions come like waves, each one pulling you under.

Then, finally, a cry. So small. So soft.

You press your cheek to theirs, whispering over and over: We made it. We made it.

Outside, the sun begins to rise again.

The baby’s cries used to feel like thunder in your skull, loud and jarring, each sound a reminder that Beomgyu wasn’t here to hear them too.

Now, weeks later, you move before she even wakes fully. You don’t think. You just rise, gently lift her into your arms, press your nose into the wisps of hair that smell like earth and warmth and something clean. You hum to her, a tune you don’t remember learning.

You think Beomgyu might’ve hummed it first.

You still cry some nights, quietly. You talk to her, tell her about the day’s weather, the crops coming in slower than you hoped, the time the pig got loose and ran through the garden. Your voice cracks sometimes, but you speak anyway. You plant with her strapped to your chest. You sing while washing her clothes. You braid dried grass into little toys and pretend you're doing it just to pass time — though truthfully, you like watching her fingers wrap around them.

You’re not okay, but you’re not drowning anymore.

She’s almost a year now.

Not walking yet, but strong enough to push herself up and reach for things she shouldn’t. Her eyes are too familiar —s harp and round, framed by lashes that look exactly like Beomgyu’s. Her mouth even curves the same way when she cries.

You avoid looking at her for too long.

There’s a guilt that rises in your chest every time you hold her. Like you’re stealing a future Beomgyu never got to finish. Sometimes you hold her at a distance, like something fragile you don’t know how to care for. She doesn’t notice. Not yet. But you feel it. You feel it deeply.

That night, the dream returns. He’s there — Beomgyu. Sitting beside the old garden, barefoot, smiling like it never hurt. You fall into his arms and start sobbing without saying anything. He doesn’t say much either. Just rubs your back like he used to.

When you pull away, he points at something behind you.

You turn and there she is, your daughter. Looking right at you. Beomgyu kneels beside her and whispers something. You don’t hear the words, but when you look again, her name forms in your mouth.

Beomgyu loved sunlight.

You wake up gasping, cheeks soaked.

You stumble into the next room, where she’s sleeping curled in a blanket. You fall to your knees beside her, trembling. “Your name is… your name is Hayeon,” you whisper, like it’s the first truth you’ve spoken in months. “That’s what your father called you.”

And for the first time since she was born, you really see her. Your hands don’t shake this time when you touched her. You sob into her tiny shoulder, pressing your lips to her skin.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

The next morning, the sky is heavy with clouds, but no rain comes.

You sit on the step outside the cabin, Hayeon nestled in your lap. She babbles nonsense, pressing her palm to your chin and tugging at your collar like she owns you.

You let her.

“I didn’t know how to be your mom,” you say aloud, voice barely audible over the wind. “I didn’t know how to breathe without him. I didn’t know how to… look at you.” She doesn’t understand. Of course she doesn’t. But you say it anyway, because maybe you need to hear it.

“I’m sorry,” you say again, firmer this time. “For not being there. For looking away. You didn’t deserve that.”

You press your cheek to her temple. She laughs at nothing, and for a moment, your chest feels light. “You look just like him,” you whisper. “But I think your soul is yours.”

You started waking up with the will to do so.

“Hayeon, don’t go off too far,” you call, voice light but firm.

She doesn’t answer—at least not in words. Just a bright giggle, shrill and wild, carried on the wind. Her little boots slap against the dirt path as she chases a yellow butterfly between rows of sprouting greens. You see her leap over a patch of tomatoes, arms flailing, hair flying behind her like smoke in sunlight.

You watch her from the bench outside the cabin, your back resting against the worn wood. There’s a basin of laundry beside you, half-finished. The sun’s warm against your face. You let it linger.

You smile, quiet and soft, like it belongs to a version of you that’s finally starting to return.

He would’ve loved it here.

You think that more often these days. Not with the same ache. Not like a wound reopening. But like a truth. A gentle one. Beomgyu would’ve loved the garden coming to life, the way the wind combs through the trees, how the ocean hums just beyond the hills. He would’ve sat here beside you, probably building some dumb little scarecrow with Hayeon and naming it after something ridiculous.

He would’ve made her laugh until she hiccupped.

You imagine him crouched next to her, showing her how to water the seedlings without drowning them. Teaching her to whistle. Drawing shapes in the dirt just to see her copy them. You watch her fall onto her knees, gasping with laughter as the butterfly flutters out of reach. She claps her hands, delighted anyway. You feel your heart stretch with something like peace.

She’s safe. She’s growing. She’s happy.

You remember the first time she asked about him.

The stars are out tonight.

The sky’s painted in deep indigo, scattered with tiny, blinking lights. You’re sitting on the porch steps, your arms wrapped around Hayeon, who’s nestled against your side, thumb resting near her mouth the way she does when she’s tired but too curious to sleep. The wind is gentle, brushing through the trees, stirring the hem of your dress.

She’s quiet for a while. Just breathing, head resting on your shoulder, small chest rising and falling. You think she’s about to fall asleep.

Then softly, barely more than a murmur she says, “Mama… what was my dad like?”

The words land like a pebble in still water. Everything shifts. You don’t move at first. Your breath stills. It’s the question you’ve been waiting for. Slowly, you turn your head to look at her. Her eyes are open, wide and soft, glinting with the starlight.

You take a shaky breath.

“Your dad…” you begin, voice almost breaking. “He was kind. The kind of kind that made you feel safe just by being next to him.”

Hayeon listens silently, thumb dropping from her lips.

“He was funny, too. He used to make me laugh even when I didn’t want to. He’d do the dumbest impressions, or start dancing in the middle of nowhere, just to see me smile.” You close your eyes for a moment. You can see him again — arms flailing in the garden, lips pursed in mock seriousness, Hayeon’s laugh echoing over a memory that never got to exist.

“He was brave,” you whisper. “He stayed brave, even when the world was falling apart.”

A silence settles.

“Did he love me?” she asks.

You look at her fully now, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek.

“More than anything,” you say. “Even before you were born, he loved you. He wrote about you in his notebook. He dreamed about you. He… he wanted so badly to meet you.”

You feel tears rise, but you don’t let them fall. “He didn’t get to stay,” you say gently, “but he left everything he could so we could live. He gave me the strength to raise you. To keep going.”

Hayeon leans in closer, silent. Then, in the smallest voice, she whispers. “I miss him.”

You feel the bracelet around your wrist, worn smooth from time and touch. You don’t have a picture of him. No frame to hold against your chest, no smile captured in ink, but you have this.

And somehow, it’s enough.

You look at your daughter; her face lit by the amber dusk, eyes squinting as she plays in the tall grass, wind tugging at her hair. An image of him. The same jaw. The same shape of her hands. The same spark in her laugh when she runs.

She used to haunt you.

Now, she anchors you — pulls you back to earth when you wake up gasping, when you reach across the bed and feel only emptiness. She pulls you through the dark.

Someday, you’ll pass the bracelet on to her. So she’ll have a piece of him too. So she’ll know that he was real. That he loved so hard, it made life possible even after he was gone.

You're scared of forgetting him.

The sky looks softer now. The air is light. You close your eyes and breathe in deep.

Your voice shakes as you speak, “If you’re out there… are you out there?” You pause, tears catching on your lashes. “Just like you said you would be?”

Your fingers press gently to the bracelet, the metal warm against your skin. “I want you to know, we’re safe. Because of you.” You bite your lip. “Because you made it possible. It was all because of you.”

A long silence. A bird calls in the distance. Your daughter laughs again, far away. You smile, even as your voice breaks.

“I’ll see you again,” you whisper. “I can’t wait to see you again.”

The wind moves through the trees — soft, almost like a hand brushing your shoulder.

Almost like he heard you.

You'll be okay.

epilogue

The morning mist clings to the surface of the sea, curling around the shoreline like a secret not yet spoken. You wake to the sound of waves lapping against the dock but there’s something else, too. A low hum.

A boat.

Still half-asleep, you rise and step outside, the wood cool beneath your feet. The sky is pale, painted in hushed pastels. The sea stretches endlessly, but you spot it. Your breath catches.

There’s a figure on board.

He raises a hand, waving toward you with calm familiarity, as if he’s done it a thousand times before. There’s warmth in it.

Your lips curve into a wide smile. Your eyes burn.

The sea glitters between you, endless and wide.

“You took your time, idiot.”

taglist: @heesmiles , @lovingbeomgyudayone , @virtaideen , @hyukascampfire , @fancypeacepersona , @bamgeutori , @lilbrorufr , @beomieeeeeeeeeeees , @xylatox , @yunverie , @imlonelydontsendhelp , @moagyuu , @immelissaaa , @readinmidnight , @pagelets , @wonderstrucktae , @boba-beom , @seodami , @izzyy-stuff , @gyudollies , @i-am-not-dal , @page-isa , @tyunarisu , @s0urcherry , @lostgirlysstuff , @tinycatharsis , @randomheyl , @beomsdoll , @hanniehq , @run2gyuz , @prettypeachprincesz , @w0nderfulb1iss , @dedandelion , @demidelulu , @usuallyunlikelyfox , @raspberrii , @jellyyjn , @mrsjohnnysuh , @hyukaaa , @neobeomjii , @lumpynoofles , @taelerys , @haowonbins , @strawberryshoujosundae , @whoisgami , @sophiemoloney , @fatbixchwithanopinion , @fairfootedflekk

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seungcheorry · 12 hours ago

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happy burstday to you - cherry version 🍒⚡ | 02. yoon jeonghan - svt anniversary

yoon jeonghan as the boy who accidentally threw the basketball at you, broking your glasses in the process

"oh, shit-", jeonghan flinches, immediately running to you. "i'm so sorry, are you okay?!"

you still have your hands over your face. your friend next to you is half trying not to laugh, half worried about you.

"the ball just slipped out of my hand, it wasn't supposed to even come near you, i'm so sorry!", he apologizes again, and when you finally look up at him, jeonghan also tries not to laugh.

your face is a bit red - he's sure not only from the ball hitting you -, but your glasses is also parted in half, your hands holding the pieces together.

"you broke my glasses", you state, deadly staring at him.

"sorry, i…", what is there to say? why is jeonghan kinda scared of looking at you right now? "are you okay, though? did it hurt you?"

your nose stings a bit, but you're gonna survive… well, maybe not from the embarassment of being hit in the face by thee yoon jeonghan, everyone's crush on school and captain of the basketball team.

"i'm fine", you sigh, getting up from your place. "i just gotta wash my face."

"i'll go with you."

and you wanna say he doesn't need to, that he should go back to practice, that he should go back to his friends who are calling his name now; they need him. you wanna say your friend can go with you - even though she hasn't said anything so far -, but jeonghan grabs you by the arm, gently guiding you out of the court.

it's cute, but also a bit awkward, how he watches you washing your face so closely, broken glasses on the sink. his eyes don't leave your face, like he's waiting for something to happen, and he even looks worried when you groan while washing your nose.

"does it hurt?"

"a bit", you sigh again. "never thought you could miss a single throw, but here we are now."

"well, technically i didn't miss… it hit you perfectly on the face."

jeonghan bites back a chuckle, especially when you look at him with those deadly eyes again. he bows to you, silently apologizing once again, and takes a step back (just to be sure, you know?).

"are you… what are you gonna do about your glasses? do you have a spare one?"

"no, i'll have to buy new ones."

"shit", he rolls his eyes. "i'm gonna pay, don't worry."

"you don't have to-"

"yeah, my dad will never leave me alone if i don't step up to do the "right thing", you know?", he actually uses air quotes. "it's okay, it's only fair. let's go buy new ones tomorrow, is that okay? can you like… see in the meantime?"

you feel the itch to smack his arm, but something or someone holds you back, perhaps god.

"i'm not blind, yoon jeonghan."

"oh, so you know my name", jeonghan smirks at you, grabbing your broken glasses from the sink.

"everyone in this school does."

"yeah, and everyone in the whole world will know it too", jeonghan turns around. "taking your glasses with me so you won't try to mend them. see you tomorrow after class."

you roll your eyes, a deep sigh coming out of your lips, getting ready for the busy day you'll have tomorrow - because yoon jeonghan is always a handful, you know that much.

but the way he texts you later that night, just to know how you're doing (which you answer to after demanding to know how he got your number) is weird and also... nice. or how he says you should get your eyes checked up, just so you can make full new glasses, all on him - aka all on his parents.

or, i don't know, how you agree to his idea and your mom takes you to the "eye doctor", as jeonghan calls it; and how you're surprised to see him outside the building once you finish your appointment.

"still blind?", he asks, playful eyes turning serious the moment he sees your mom behind you. "oh, hello, miss! i didn't see you, i'm sorry."

"perhaps you should get checked too", you say, and jeonghan laughs out loud.

it's also nice how he sits beside you at the court the next day, helping you decide on which glasses you should buy. his friends are calling him, asking him to come play - but he just wave them off.

"shouldn't you be practicing?"

"i will, after school", jeonghan nods. "but not basketball."

"gave up on your career so soon? i was your only victim, you're good."

"no, that's not it. i just... i got into this company, kpop company. i will officially be a trainee soon, i guess. to be honest i wasn't thinking too much of it, just dreaming big, but i met the other boys last week and... they're really nice. i have a good feeling about this."

but jeonghan never mentions his new adventure again to you. he waves it off, focusing on you and finishing his mission with you. he tells you which glasses he liked from the site you're currently scrolling through on your simple phone, rolling his eyes when you say you didn't ask for his opinion.

it's also nice when, through his new busy schedule, jeonghan can finally accompany you to the store, carrying his mom's credit card in his pocket and acting like he owns it all - which he doesn't. he tries a few glasses too, mumbling about how good-looking he is and how a great idol he will be someday. you roll your eyes, pointing at the ones you chose so jeonghan can just pay and be done with it, both of you - but on your way out of the store, he sees this ice cream shop and pays you one too.

"for the whole glasses incident, you know", he shrugs. "my debt with you is paid."

"yeah, but your parent's debt with the bank is not."

jeonghan laughs, but you won't admit how nice that sound is too. you just thank him for your ice cream, turning around on your hills and going home.

he sees you at school the next morning, winking at you and mumbling a "it looks nice" for your new look. you just roll your eyes once again, ignoring the way your friend is trying not to freak out because you're suddenly close to yoon jeonghan. but, to be honest, that closeness doesn't last long...

he disappears for two days, everyone talking at the corridors about what could have happened. a third day goes by, and rumor has it that he's sick; but you know it's not that. on the fifth day, the teachers let everyone know that jeonghan moved out of the city, and will be attending a new school there.

you don't think too much of it, just silently wish the stars that he can succeed on his new adventure - and that's all you do, forgetting him and just moving on with your life.

but years after, as the big kpop group seventeen gives an interview and yoon jeonghan tells everyone about this time at school when he accidentally shot a basketball straight to someone's face, you roll your eyes again, but suddenly remembers that you still have the glasses he - his parents - paid for you, just like he still has the ones he broke.

have you considered tipping me? | ko-fi 🍒

taglist: @babycaratdeul @goodbyetwenty @seungcheolsblackcard @xxr0ck-stxrxx @hazeljisulatte @worldpeaceforyoongi @lixisoul99 @elieanana @supi-wupi @4shypotato @reiofsuns2001 @gohyemi @edwinawrites @dinossaurz @dy-kyeom @cristy-101 @karynnoona @sarabencze @princessjazzyjazz @matchawoozii

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isabelckl · 8 hours ago

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whiskey & honey 2

ranch girl ellie williams x city girl fem!reader

every summer since you were fourteen was spent in Ellie’s family ranch. your mothers are best friends, which only made it harder to understand why you and Ellie were never even friends. or maybe the question isn’t about friendship at all.

Part 1

You hated how much space she took up in your mind last night, you barely got any sleep. It was early, judging by the soft light creeping through the blinds, but the house was already humming faintly with the scent of coffee and the quiet murmur of life.

Dragging yourself out of bed and down the stairs after a few morning routines, you barely registered the kitchen until you heard it.

“Morning.”

You froze mid-step.

Ellie. Her voice was low and rough, yet somehow still steady. She stood near the sink, already dressed in her usual ranch gear — boots, denim, the sleeves of her button-up rolled up to her elbows, sun catching the red in her hair.

And just like that, your sleepiness evaporated.

“Morning,” you replied, a bit too fast, trying to sound casual as you slid into the seat across from her at the table.

Celine, Ellie’s mother, stood by the stove flipping something in a pan, smiling over her shoulder. “You’re just in time. Pancakes today. You still like blueberry, right?”

You nodded, mumbling a soft, “Thank you,” as she placed a plate in front of you.

“You know,” she said as she poured coffee into a chipped mug, “your mother told me she’ll be coming by the end of the week. I told her I’d keep you alive until then.”

You snorted lightly, cutting into your pancake. “She hasn’t replied to any of my messages.”

“She’s not worried. She knows you’re in good hands here.”

You smiled at that, grateful for the warmth in Celine’s voice — and for how easy she made it feel, like coming back didn’t have to be awkward.

Still, you kept stealing glances across the table. Ellie was quiet, chewing slowly, staring at her plate. She didn’t seem to notice your glances, or if she did, she didn’t show it.

“So,” Celine said suddenly, pulling your attention back, “do you have a boyfriend now?”

You almost choked on your orange juice.

“What? No. No, I’m… I’m focusing on school right now.”

You kept your gaze on your plate, but your heart had other ideas. It skipped, flipped, maybe even died a little — because when you glanced up, Ellie’s eyes were on you.

Not for long. Just a second. But it was enough.

Celine grinned, clearly entertained. “Ah, to be young again. Don’t worry, Ellie’s the same. My little lesbian daughter — too busy pretending she doesn’t care to actually flirt with anyone.”

“Mom,” Ellie muttered, but there was no real heat in it. She rolled her eyes and took another bite.

You tried not to smile.

Celine raised an eyebrow, her teasing now a full sport. “I just hope she finally makes a move on that girl she likes.”

Your fork paused mid-air. You blinked.

“She likes someone?” you asked, trying to keep it light — casual. Totally-not-curious casual.

Ellie stood up, brushing crumbs from her jeans, shaking her head with a faint laugh that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Don’t listen to her,” she said, placing her plate in the sink. “I’m heading to the town center. Gotta grab a few tools for the fence.”

And just like that, she was gone.

You watched the screen door close softly behind her, the tension she left behind still lingering in the room like morning mist.

Celine just hummed and took a sip of her coffee. “She’ll come around.”

You weren’t sure if she was talking about Ellie in general, or Ellie and you.

Either way, you weren’t ready to ask.

“Ellie!” you called out, hurrying down the front steps, your voice rising just as she stepped into the truck.

She turned, squinting against the morning sun. Her brows lifted slightly as she caught sight of you jogging toward her, your white tank top clinging to your frame, denim jorts hugging your hips. Your hair was still a little damp from your shower, curling at the ends.

“I wanna come with you,” you said, breathless, slowing to a stop near the open passenger door.

Ellie stared at you for a beat, her eyes flicking down — from your top to your waist and then back up to your eyes.

“It’ll be boring,” she said, tone flat but not unfriendly.

You smiled anyway, shifting your weight on your bare legs. “No, it won’t be.”

She leaned slightly out of the truck, resting one arm on the open window, the other on the steering wheel. “You know what, Mom’s home today. You should spend time with her.”

“Well,” you said, not missing a beat, “your mom was actually the one who suggested I go with you.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly catching the lie.

Ellie just looked at you for a long second, quiet, unreadable. Then she shifted slightly, the corner of her mouth twitching.

You stepped closer, voice softening. “Please?”

Her expression faltered. She bit the inside of her cheek, looking away for a moment like she was trying to hide something. You almost squealed when she gave the smallest nod.

“Fine. Get in.”

You grinned, climbing into the passenger seat before she could change her mind. The door creaked as it shut behind you, the worn leather seat warm from the sun. As Ellie turned the key, the truck rumbled to life, and you buckled your seatbelt, trying not to look too thrilled.

The ride started in silence.

Ellie kept her eyes on the road, one hand loose on the wheel, the other resting against the open window. Wind rushed through the truck, pushing your hair back as you stared out at the coastal road — hills rolling off into the distance, flashes of seafoam blue sparkling in between tree lines.

You tucked your knees up a bit, turning your face toward the breeze. It smelled like salt and pine.

“I missed this,” you murmured, eyes scanning the blurred scenery.

Ellie flicked her gaze toward you, just for a second. “Missed what?”

“The town,” you replied. “Just… the air, the view. Everything.”

She was quiet for a moment.

“That the only thing you missed?”

Your heart stuttered. You glanced sideways, catching the faintest smirk pulling at her lips. Her eyes stayed on the road, but you could tell she was listening.

You bit your bottom lip, stalling.

“Well, uh… the tourist spots,” you began, fumbling a little. “The food. And the locals here are just so kind.”

Ellie made a small sound in her throat — something between a chuckle and a scoff.

You didn’t ask what she meant by it.

She didn’t say anything else.

But her fingers tapped idly on the steering wheel, and the sun kept catching in her hair just right, and for the first time in a while, the silence between you didn’t feel like a wall.

The rest of the ride passed in silence. Comfortable in a strange way. You kept your gaze out the window, watching as the landscape shifted from wide open fields to scattered homes and small-town life. A small smile tugged at your lips as the breeze played with your hair. You didn’t know why exactly — maybe it was the view.

The truck turned into the town center, slowing near the only hardware store in miles. It was a squat building with red paint and an old wooden sign that read “Miller’s Supply & Feed.” The sun was high, beating down on the cracked pavement. A pair of kids rode by on bikes, their laughter echoing off the storefronts. A woman passed by walking her golden retriever, waving at Ellie as she parked.

Ellie lifted a hand in return before killing the engine. “Let’s make it quick.”

You nodded, hopping out and following her as she pushed open the store door. A small bell jingled above, announcing your arrival.

Inside, the store smelled of cedar and old leather. The walls were lined with tools, ropes, seeds, paint cans, and forgotten calendars. Fans rotated lazily from the ceiling.

“Ellie Williams,” came a warm, raspy voice from behind the counter.

You looked over to see an older woman, hair in a frizzy bun. She leaned on the counter, a newspaper folded under her arm.

“Hey, Miss Della,” Ellie said, walking up towards the counter. “Just need a few things for the fence repair.”

“Your grandpa’s old list or one you made yourself?” Della asked with a wink.

“Bit of both,” Ellie replied.

You took that as your cue to wander, eyes scanning the cluttered aisles. There were dusty jars of nails, old crates of hammers, and signs with fading price tags. The sun streamed through the windows, casting lazy golden light across the shelves.

You stepped back without really thinking, tilting your chin up to look at a row of post-hole diggers that looked like medieval torture tools.

And when a warm hand touched your waist gently, steadying you before you could knock over a box of bolts.

You startled slightly, turning your head.

Ellie was there, close behind you.

“Hey…” you breathed out, blinking up at her.

“Uh—” Her voice caught a little. Her hands hovered on your back, not moving away yet, but not holding either. “Sorry. You almost backed into me.”

You straightened, heat blooming in your cheeks, brushing it off like nothing happened. “You got a list, or are we just winging it?”

Ellie blinked, then nodded. “Yeah. I got a list.”

She pulled a crumpled paper from her pocket and handed it to you. You took it without thinking, skimming the scribbled words.

“…Half of these I don’t even know how to pronounce,” you muttered, furrowing your brow. “What’s a cross-brace tensioner?”

Ellie let out a low chuckle behind you, the sound soft and raspy. “You don’t need to know. Just need to find it.”

You handed the paper back, feeling a little stupid, but she didn’t tease you further. She just walked toward the next aisle, boots thudding softly on the worn linoleum.

You followed, watching as she picked through items with practiced ease — checking nails for rust, comparing screw sizes, running a hand over a pack of wire mesh.

At one point, she bent down to inspect a row of fencing staples, and your eyes, traitorous and disloyal, lingered a little too long on the line of the back of her hands.

She stood again, holding something. “You ever built a fence?”

You snorted. “Do IKEA shelves count?”

She smiled — a real one, wide and faintly amused. “Barely.”

A couple walked in behind you, probably tourists, judging by the way they whispered and pointed at some rustic-looking tools like they were rare artifacts. You stepped out of the way, moving closer to Ellie without thinking.

Miss Della reappeared at the end of the aisle. “Got everything you need?”

“Almost,” Ellie said, picking up a few more items.

“I’ll ring you girls up in a minute. Take your time.”

You felt your chest thrum at the word girls, the way Della said it like you were a pair. You glanced at Ellie, but she was crouched again, grabbing one last pack of screws.

By the time you reached the counter, arms half-full of supplies, Ellie moved behind you to carry the heavier items. Her hand brushed yours briefly, and again, it lingered just a second too long.

You tried not to look at her.

But you could feel it — the quiet electricity threading between your steps, her presence heavy and warm at your back.

“Got a pretty little helper today, huh?” Della teased, sliding the items across the scanner.

“Yeah but she’s more of a tourist,” Ellie replied dryly, but she wasn’t smiling this time. She looked at you instead — something unreadable flickering in her eyes.

Did she just agree that I'm pretty? You thought for a minute.

You gave her a smirk anyway. “Tourist with great taste in company.”

That earned a small snort from Ellie.

Outside, the sun was brighter now, bouncing off the windshield as you both loaded the truck. Ellie took the driver’s seat again, resting her elbow out the window. You leaned back in your seat, letting the breeze hit your face.

And for a moment, with the ocean in the distance and Ellie beside you, everything felt soft.

Almost like summer had waited just for this.

They were halfway back when you spotted it — the little roadside food stand near the edge of town, right before the curve that led back to the countryside. It was painted a fading peach color, with a handwritten chalkboard that read: Fresh Fruit Pops • Lemonade • Corn in a Cup.

“Wait, wait!” you blurted, sitting up straighter. “Can we stop there?”

Ellie glanced at you, then at the stand. “Seriously?”

You nodded, already unbuckling. “I haven’t had their mango ice pop in forever.”

She sighed, but pulled off anyway.

You hopped down from the truck, walking toward the stand as your flip-flops crunched over gravel. A teen girl behind the stand smiled, waiting for your order. But as you reached for your pocket, your stomach dropped.

“Oh, crap,” you muttered, patting your shorts. “I… didn’t bring any money.”

You looked over your shoulder, suddenly flustered. “Wait, I think—let’s not. It’s fine. I’ll get one next time.”

But before you could fully turn, Ellie was already walking up beside you.

“Which one?” she asked, reaching for her wallet.

You blinked. “What?”

She glanced down. “You said mango?”

You hesitated, teeth tugging at your lip. “Yeah. But you don’t have to—”

Ellie handed over a few bills and nodded to the girl. “One mango for her. Coconut for me.”

You watched her with wide eyes as she took the pops and handed you one without a word.

“…Thanks,” you mumbled, your fingers brushing hers as you took it.

She shrugged, already unwrapping hers. “You can Venmo me in twenty years.”

You laughed under your breath as you walked back toward the truck, biting into the cold pop. “This is better than I remembered.”

Back on the road, you rolled the window halfway down, elbow resting on the sill, sweet mango dripping slowly over your fingers.

“…Hey,” you said, licking a drop off your thumb. “Are you doing anything after this?”

Ellie glanced at you, sunglasses slipping down her nose. “Not really. Why?”

You turned your body slightly toward her. “Wanna go to the shore? Just for a bit?”

She raised an eyebrow. “You want to?”

You nodded. “I’ve been dying for sea water and sand on my feet. That’s, like, a vacation essential.”

She let out a soft breath, then smiled faintly. “Alright. You’re lucky I keep towels in the truck.”

You grinned at her, then turned your gaze back to the road, giddy.

The shoreline was almost empty when you got there — just a few parked cars, a couple lying on a towel far off, and a kid playing fetch with his dog down the other end. The sun was still high, casting everything in gold, and the waves were gentle today, barely brushing the shore.

You kicked off your sandals the moment your feet hit the sand.

Ellie leaned against the truck, arms crossed, one boot propped against the bumper as she watched you step closer to the waves. She didn’t follow, just stood there — like she always did, a quiet observer. Her sunglasses shaded her expression, but you could feel her gaze tracking you.

You giggled as the water came close and leapt back, holding your popsicle above your head dramatically like it might melt if touched by sea.

You ran back toward her, sand clinging to your ankles.

“I’m changing,” you announced, tugging off your tank top in one motion, revealing the bikini you had on underneath.

Ellie straightened up immediately, eyes darting away so fast it was almost comical. Her jaw tightened slightly, but she said nothing.

You were oblivious to all of it.

“You look so out of place right now,” you teased, gesturing at her boots and denim. “You’re, like, allergic to summer.”

Ellie glanced at you — just once, briefly — then looked back at the water.

You took that as your cue to run, laughing as you dashed back into the tide, the bikini sticking to your skin now, the wind dancing across your shoulders.

“Don’t go too deep!” Ellie called out, voice a bit louder now. “You don’t even know how to swim!”

You turned, already knee-deep in the water, giggling. “I’m fine!”

She sighed loudly but didn’t move from her post.

You laughed again, twirling a little as the water splashed against your legs. This — the salt, the sand, the sun on your skin — this felt like home. Not just the town, not just the sea.

But the feeling.

And for a second, the thought of turning back — running toward her again — felt impossible to resist.

But not yet.

tag lists:

@wwefan2002 @sulliefimmie @the-sick-habit @c1sne @darkdanixoxo @elliewillamsgf @momoloverr @piastorys @jester-loverre @adoreasellie

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v6quewrlds · 5 hours ago

Note

Blurb of wifey making Joe do the tend of telling his friends goodnight please?? 😂😂

author's note⠀⁎⠀feat. zacciah & justin because i wanted to try something new.

read more⠀⁎⠀joe burrow masterlist / series masterlist.

"Why would I call my friends just to say goodnight?" Joe questioned her, his forehead wrinkling in confusion as his eyes focused on the TV mounted on the center wall of the living room. His hands were busy, full of her calves as he massaged the tightness from her muscles after a long day standing and walking around the clinic. It had been a heels day; full business professional attire instead of her sneakers and scrubs, and it showed in the knots that had formed.

She, relaxing with a half-smile on her face, sat up from her lounging position, her head tipping to the side as she studied Joe expression. "So you don't watch the TikToks I send you?" she questioned, her eyes squinting in mock disbelief.

"Only the funny ones," Joe defended himself instinctively, a hint of a grin playing at the corner of his mouth. "This is a TikTok prank?" He asked in an effort to clarify, his thumbs still working their magic on her legs.

"It is," she confirmed. "It'll be funny, I promise," she assured him.

With a sigh, Joe set her legs down and reached for his phone. "Alright, let's get this over with," he muttered with a playful edge in his tone. He scrolled through his contacts, searching for the most unsuspecting victim to play along.

"Zacciah?" Joe asked, glancing over at her to see if she approved of his choice. She nodded eagerly, and he tapped the call button. Zacciah, one of Joe's closest friends, answered with a simple 'Hey'. "Hey, man," Joe began, trying to keep a straight face as she giggled quietly beside him. "What are you up to?"

"Just about to crash," Zacciah replied, his voice hinting at the end of a long day. "Why? You need something?"

Joe took a deep breath, mentally preparing for the absurdity that was about to unfold. "No, just wanted to call and say goodnight," he said, his tone unusually gentle, almost comically so.

"Goodnight?" Zacciah echoed after a few brief moments of silence, clearly taken aback. "Is… everything okay?"

She stifled a laugh with her hand, watching Joe's internal struggle as he maintained the facade. "Yeah, just thought it'd be nice," Joe replied lightly.

There was a pause on the line. "Okay, goodnight then," Zacciah said, sounding a mix of confused and concerned.

"Sleep tight, buddy," Joe said, trying to match the tone of a heartfelt bedtime story. "Sweet dreams and all that. Love you."

On the other end of the line, Zac's confusion grew palpable. "Joe, what…?" he began, but Joe hung up before he could finish his question. She burst out laughing, the sound echoing through their living room, as Joe gave into the amusement and chuckled along with her.

"Alright, who's next?" he asked, his eyes scanning his contact list.

"Oh, we're excited now are we?" She teased, watching Joe with twinkling eyes as he found his next target. "Try Justin."

Joe raised an eyebrow at her suggestion, but tapped the contact without further comment. The call connected and Joe waited for his friend's greeting. "Aye, what's up, man?" Justin's voice came through the speaker.

"Nothing right now. Just checking in, seeing how your night's going," Joe replied, his voice filled with feigned innocence. He watched her, whose lips were pressed together in an attempt to stifle her laughter. She nodded encouragingly.

"It's cool, you know. My moms was just askin' about you actually. What's up with you?" Justin said.

Joe paused for a beat before responding. "Just had a thought that it's been a while since we talked," Joe began. "So, I figured I'd call and say goodnight."

"Goodnight?" Justin's tone was disbelieving, almost as if he was offended. "Where's your girl? She would make you do some shit like this."

She couldn't hold it in anymore and her laughter spilled out, full and unrestrained. Joe rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the smile spreading across his face. "Yeah, she's right here," he admitted, holding the phone out for her to speak. "And she says goodnight, too."

"Oh, you think you funny, huh?" Justin's voice held a note of amusement. "Goodnight to you too," he called out.

"Night, Justin. Tell your mom I said hello," she responded. The laughter in her voice was infectious, and Joe could hear Justin chuckling on the other line.

"This is lowkey nice as hell," Justin said. "We could do this every night. Say goodnight and shit, I like it."

"Fuck no. Goodnight J," Joe said quickly, cutting off Justin's proposal for a goodnight ritual. He ended the call before the wide receiver could protest.

#&. joe x doctor!reader: asks.#&. joey b.#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow x black reader #joe burrow x black!reader

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xylatox · 1 day ago

Text

Laurel Hell || lhs

And ive made it to the epilogue :( what a journey this has been oh my god.

taking a huge breath, you answered, "i feel… useless… i don't know- i, i just feel like i should do something else other than taking care of the twins. like, preparing for graduation, internships, or something?"

I want to protect her so badly :( my poor girl and ugh just hee being supportive is everything; they have grown so much together

Im so giddy over the kids’ first words oh my god 😭

Also hurray that gyu and ryu finally got together

"(y/n)! are you okay if we move to video call? siwoo seems to his mom so much, he couldn't fall asleep." your mom calls for you from the end of the line, making you quickly pull your back against the wall of the bed and tucking your t-shirt.

The timing of this 💀

including a little cockwarming action as you help strategise his next moves in league of legends.

I have to laugh, my only question is what role is he playing😭hee seems like a top or jg kind of guy and probs adc if hes feeling spicy

"i'm not proposing to you- fuck- okay, hi, um…" you peer down at the box before letting out a huge exhale. "when we were in the market, i found these cute rings. it's thin but it is shaped like a mobius strip, which i think looks cool as fuck."

Oh my god shes so cute what and the fact that its promise rings oh my god

THE ACTUAL PROPOSAL OH MY GOD

"one step at the time, love." you lean your head close to him as you show him the post and the comment section that earns laughter for you both, satisfying enough for you two to end the day with.

This was the cutest epilogue ever :( im so glad they got the happy ending they deserve. I would burn the world for them. Again Lissie im so glad I read this, it was so comforting. Cant believe i read another fic from you and its a heeseung one again; what are the odds lol. Anyways such a lovely read and thank you for having me on your little corner of tumblr (❁´◡`❁)

one year later...

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

synopsis: as the day nears midnight on your twins' first birthday, you and heeseung reflect on the past year of your lives as parents, partners, and eternal life rivals...

genre: romantic comedy, slice of life, coming-of-age, rivals since childhood to lovers, college/university-to-fresh graduates au, parents/family au, established relationship au, fluff, angst, mature content (explicit smut)

word count: 17755 (17.7k) + 12 social media-related pics!

warning(s): dark humor, hardships of being a parent (baby blues, insomnia, etc), hardships of being young adults and fresh graduates in today's economy, mention of human excrements (pee, poop, blood, breast milk), nudity (outside of sex), multiple explicit smut scenes (rough sex and love making), they are freaky ahh, unprotected sex, hand job (m & f receive), oral job (m & f receive), deep throating, dirty talk with pet names (daddy & mama), marking, multiple orgasms, creampies, lactation kink (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.

happy one year to this fic my gosh! i genuinely still can't believe that people love this fic so much. i just have to write this in return ('cause i have also been thinking about them too) :D thank you so much for giving laurel hell a chance and for loving them so much. hope you enjoy this continuation because we started laurel hell with a prologue. why not an epilogue too? + this post is this blog's 1000th post so cheers for that as well

soundtrack (updated playlist) | read part 1 first!

epilogue: my chest is about to burst

from your point of view, you are looking at your whole world.

your body leans against the doorframe as you twiddle with your fingers, eyeing the little fingers clenched into fists out stretched from beneath her little blanket from the gaps of the crib. on the other side, your sight meets the figure with broad shoulders that carefully sets down the baby boy inside his own crib. he leans down, tugging the baby’s blanket on top of the snoring chest just like he did with the sister and carefully leans down as the sound of a kiss flutters in the room. your cheeks warm as he turns around, a wide smile on his face.

heeseung pulls away from siwoo’s crib as the sound of your babies’ snores ring in tandem. his wide smile stops before receding into his signature smirk alongside a scrunched nose and a subtle wink—rolling your eyes as a result. yet, his approaching presence makes you step back outside to the hallway as he carefully clutches onto the door handle and closes it as quietly as possible. your eyes are staring at each other as you both let out a such a long sigh, signalling your tiredness of today from cleaning the house of the tables you pull out for the guests from the very important event of the day.

your twins’ first birthday.

reaching your hand out, you held heeseung’s wrist before bringing him in front of you. your hands fondling his shoulders, pressing down to give them messages as you both walked towards your bedroom. both of you passing by the glass door to the backyard of your new house as you eyed the hanging decorations from the birthday party. wrapped gifts resting on top of the coffee table in the living room, waiting to be opened after the sunrise of tomorrow. for now, your mind is focusing on the comfort of your bed.

the warm light from the bedside lamp creates a relaxing atmosphere as heeseung’s yawn makes you do it as well. he hums, stretching his neck from the soothing message you voluntarily give. heeseung turns his body around before sitting on the edge of the bed. his legs widen up before he tugs you by your hips into his embrace. his head rested on your loose t-shirt-covered stomach, giving it a peck before he tilts back to rest his chin on you, looking up to your face.

“can’t believe they’re one now,” heeseung mumbles. your hands automatically brushing his black bangs that are longer with his new hairstyle, pressing down on the little freckle on his forehead that you love to kiss.

“yeah. gosh, i still remember the pain when i gave birth to them,” you answered, pulling his hand from your hip as you find the crescent marks on the forearm. his blood mixing with yours in that tub, breaking skin to feel a sliver of your enormous pain. his eyes stare at how you caress the marks left by your nails, lifting the arm up so that you can kiss them.

“i’m still so proud of you for that.” his smirk shows once again, the hand you held moved out of your grip before resting on your waist.

“you should also be proud of yourself, hee, for actually committing to what you said that night on the balcony.”

“of course, baby.” his warm gaze pierces your vision as he leans into your left hand that is still cupping his face. leaning down, you rest your lips on his as he puckers up, both pairs melting into each other, signalled by the sigh coming from both you and him. heeseung moves his body backwards, making you gasp and let go from the kiss as you landed on top of him. playfully hitting his chest, heeseung lets out a small shriek and an offended look that made you gave one more peck to the corner of his lips before you rests your back on your side of the mattress.

your head sinks into the silky smooth fabric on the bed, staring at the ceiling as heeseung’s hand moves to connect with yours—interlocking your fingers. peeking from the corner of your eyes, he also stares at the ceiling with his eyelids threatening to droop from exhaustion. that is before he turns his head to meet yours and a smile spreads across both of your features.

“we fucking graduated. we have one-year-old children now together, and i’m living with you now. teen heeseung must have a fucking field day to rest or else his head will explode knowing the situation he is now.”

“heck, i think us in freshmen year of college won’t even expect this shit,” you uttered back. his eyes flutter as he studies your face and how your chest rises and falls in the same rhythm as his.

“i should probably be glad that yoon keeho’s party got raided two years ago. or else, we wouldn’t have fuck and be living this life now.” his statement raises chuckles from you as you shake your head, still couldn’t believe how everything happens and how you are actually enjoying reaping what you both sow now.

“many life-changing events happen even within the year since siah and siwoo are in our lives.” you curl your body now and turn to face it against his. his grip on your hand is still as tight as ever.

“summarize them for me, baby.” heeseung follows suit, the sultry voice that he uses making you roll your eyes once again from his out-of-left-field replies.

“shitting hell, lee.” you used your locked hands to nudge his collar as heeseung held his head against his other arm now resting upright on the mattress.

“well, where do we start?”

heeseung's eyes gaze at your shaking body, quiet sobs filter throughout the living area as he couldn't even focus on the movement from the game he is playing at the screen in front of him. days have passed since your confession. he is one month into parenthood and has an internship in a media agency as a copywriter for the sports column. your smile was always masking the session of crying you let out every time you put the baby to sleep.

he continues to peer at you who are standing by the dining table, letting the milk pumper pull out the breast milk so that he or anyone can also help feed the twin. putting his headset on the desk, the chair skids as heeseung stands up to go to you. your hand is gripping the dining table, trembling as heeseung steps closer and peeks his face beside yours. you don't jump anymore—unlike the many times you had before—and your eyelashes flutter as the evident sniffles don't magically make the presence of your crying self disappear instantly.

your tense body relaxes as a warm hand rested on your waist, the hand that was holding onto the table starts to relax as the other is holding onto the pumper. his hand moves and gently pushes your head to face him—dried trails of liquid glisten your cheeks from the light as he brushed them with his thumb.

"i'm listening…" his short reply earns him a small smile from your swollen face. the humming of the machine fills in the space as he holds onto your waist, one of the hand brushing against your breast full of milk.

"our graduation isn't until february 2025. you still have a paper to do for that as well… and other than that," he turns your head to face him, mind scrambling as the highlighted words in relation to postpartum blues shows up in mind.

"you're adjusting to a new normal. everything that you, we, are experiencing will be normalcy. you have me to take care of them. you know that, right, baby?"

the pet name that slips out of his lips makes him nibble on them as you let out a small chuckle, your eyes looking another way as he kisses your temple. "yeah, plus you have that paternal leave notice as well," heeseung hums as a reply before he pulls back.

"i was thinking. maybe you could take a weekend trip with the girls. you deserved rest."

"and you deserved more time with your children too, lee heeseung," you retort, feeling how the tips of his fingers are brushing against the part beneath your swollen chest, holding you close against him.

"yeah, that could work." heeseung speaks like he is talking with himself before he rests his head on your shoulder as he opens the group chat with all eight of the gang. his fingers pressing onto the virtual keyboard as he chats away the plan he had been going for you. your sight following each written word as you nuzzle against him.

what could go wrong by leaving heeseung alone with the twins, huh?

"WAAHHHHHH"

"RRAHHHH"

two wailing cries come from two different sides of the room as the twins move on the bean bags of the living area. in the kitchen, heeseung is struggling to pour your now-warm breast milk into the bottles while looking at the instructions you give in the chatbox. siah wake him up early today, brushing on the other side of the bed to feel your dissapearance from the night before as chaeryeong picks you up for the girls' trip—a granola bar in replace with a small note of "good luck, lee :P." he didn't realized just how much of a foodie his babies are until siah even nearly finishes her bottle before the daylight graces his side of the earth.

the rest of the day is filled with burping the babies and see them sleep on the bean bag from most of the daylight. as he played co-op with jeongin on the other side of the screen, he had think "it's not as bad as i thought to be with them the whole day." that is before he rested his head against the backrest of his gaming seat that he looks at the instagram story of your matching picture.

pressing it, he finds the video of the rushing spring wave pushing onto the beach. his memory catches onto your apperance, straightening your body as you walk from the sea when he notices how you are wearing one of his basketball shorts—the 01 is evident as it contrasts the black decelis color—but it matches with your bikini top that shows your cleavage but also the rest of your torso that is returning back to your pre-pregnancy body from the wrapping you have done.

heeseung feels the seething flame inside his eyes as he presses to reply to your story, typing into the box as he watches how you're getting closer to the screen before brushing against the camera right as he hits send.

right as he sees your last message, siwoo's wail rings throughout the room that he even is startled by that. too late to quiet him down as his sister follows along. eyes on the empty bottles on the dining table from the morning that he has to refill.

his hands hold onto the two bottles as he gently picks up siah to join her with her brother on the same bean bag before heeseung picks up one bottle and holds the end onto siwoo's lips, which he latches onto. his free hand caresses siah's head before grabbing onto her bottle and doing the same thing to her. instead, she doesn't seem enthusiastic to drink as her cries slowly fizzle out whilst looking at her brother who is drinking the milk with her big doe-like eyes. heeseung chuckles, thanking the universe that it isn't as cruel as he thought.

however, his chuckles are also being followed, looking down to see the corner of siah's mouth lifting up and she lets out a giggle of her own. heeseung's smile gets wider, the first time he sees his daughter genuinely smile. his hand is still squeezing the bottle. siwoo is drinking from it as he can feel the way his eyes getting blurry to hear the chuckles coming from the baby's lips. he knows that he will brag about this to you when you come back tomorrow. "you want to know what happened? siah smiled. genuinely. her smile is so beautiful-"

the chuckles turn into blurbs as siah's innocent eyes look up to her dad's, finding how he grimaces as the smell floating around is a familiar smell—eyes returning to the culprit who was a blabbering mess full of laughter. heeseung sighs as he squeezes the last droplet of the milk before he replaces it with siwoo's pacifier and then taking care of the bomb that siah just dropped. his hands slowly familiarizing the muscle memory he had trained from the many classes with haseul. siah's legs flailing as he peels off the diaper before quickly replacing it.

he can't help but to want to get better with this. the motivation of his rivalry with you coming once again. and he will still definitely flaunt that he had been the receiving end of his daughter's first smile.

you didn't cry as much as the month before. instead, it is replaced with the sound of guitar strumming that has decorated your home's atmosphere for the past few days.

with siwoo at the back and siah at the front, heeseung finishes bringing the two on a stroll through campus and on the park—earning a few nods of respect from the people he had met before as he balances his final classes with taking care of the babies. their giggles decorate more of the day as he lets them reach out their hands on the soft grass while resting onto each of their dad's thighs. the door of the apartment closes gently as the sound of your guitar makes the twins react.

ever since that trip—and the many mentions of siah and also siwoo's smiles towards him—you are motivated than ever to reclaim your old life and assimilate it with the one now. reaching out to yoonah, she is able to put your name in for your old position with the additional apprenticeship with the human resources division. hearing much of mitski's latest album on the trip, you played air guitar chords as you listened to the song and looked at the tab deciphered online, implementing on your guitar that you now bring to work.

hearing the sound of the children singing along to your strumming warms and flutters your heart more and more, resulting in yoonah assigning you to play a large part for the annual showcase: playing your guitar as the background for the children to sing, even making you sing a few lyrics to also help them.

"aahhh!" siah reacted to the guitar as heeseung slowly lifted her up from her place and gently carried her whilst walking towards your shared bedroom where you are practicing. a nudge from his elbow is enough for the door to widen as he can hear siwoo also flailing behind his back.

"my babies!" you exclaimed whilst looking upwards from your position sitting on the floor. heeseung slowly kneels down as he places siah on the floor before opening the belt that holds siwoo's carrier by his chest. siah leans her body against heeseung's folded legs as her hands clap against each other. siwoo following afterwards as he had the widest smile on his face. your boyfriend's hand holding onto their chests to not let them lean too forward. their eyes flitting between your strumming hands and the one on the tab of your acoustic guitar. the chords you're playing are simple ones that heeseung asked for you to teach him, but that, combined with the familiar lyrics of the little mermaid staple, 'part of your world' creates a combination of how nonchalant you are between playing the guitar and singing.

heeseung had heard you sing before—from the mumble singing as you tried to separate yourself from him in your joint road trip between two families during the last year of middle school to the karaoke hangs out as you sing a high school musical song with minjeong—yet it still doesn't make him tired. sometimes he joins in even with a small volume. but with the way you had to practice for the performance whilst also helping the children you take care of to also sing, he had caught you singing numerous of times. when you start to play the guitar once again, he enters the room and hears how your sound dwindles from full one lyrical to just melodical hums. but, whilst waiting for the end of the night as you and he tuck in the twins into their cribs, you let him listen to you play mitski's song on the guitar whilst resting his head against your shoulder; sitting on the floor by the foot of the bed after a long day of wrecking his mind for proofreading his articles. his favourite is 'first love/late spring'—your all-time favorite and the very song your instagram handle referred to.

siwoo pushed his hand forward, fingers moving as his big eyes look at your hand on the fingerboard as he mimics them like he holds a small guitar of his own. siah, on the other hand, focuses more on the sound of your voice and on the guitar. her face agape with her eyes moving around to capture as much of the sound as possible. that is before she shrieks in excitement, her body bouncing around it makes heeseung panic as siah claps her hand.

"amma!"

the chord lingers as you stop strumming, jaw dropped as you look at your daughter who didn't know what she has done, but your eyes lock with heeseung who is also left stunned. and as you drop your guitar on the mattress, it begins.

"YES!!!"

"NO!"

your exclaims clash with heeseung's as you quickly grab siah out of his grip and lift her up in your arms. practically running around the bedroom as your whoops and siah's giggles filter into the room. heeseung pulls siwoo up onto his lap, looking at his mom and sister walking around in amazement and confusion before turning his head to look at his dad, who stares down with a look of determination.

"come on, my son! make me proud. say appa." heeseung speaks the last word as slow as ever, replaying it for siwoo to follow as you picked up your phone to record the interaction. siah's excitement spreads as she taps against your torso while calling for you in her baby speak. the viewfinder from the phone screen focuses on siwoo, heeseung's hand resting on the baby's knees as you can see how their eyes start to resemble each other. siwoo follows the way heeseung's lips move, a little chuckle coming out of his little body as heeseung finally lets out the word, slower and now with found.

"appa?" heeseung says once more.

"appa." siwoo follows, and the grin you were sporting gets wider as your body shakes. heeseung giggles as he tucks siwoo into more of his laps before spreading kisses from his head to his chubby cheeks. "appa!" siwoo shrieks as you slowly walk toward heeseung before leaning down and kissing the crown of his head.

"gosh, they're growing up so fast," you sighed as the twins seemed to be encouraged more to speak. heeseung stares up at your standing self, a smirk on his face as he looks at the two. his mind already be thinking of how warm his home can be.

with the numerous practice that you have done in the comfort, a few weeks has passed in a blink of an eye as heeseung looked at his twins tucked in their formal outfits and a small headset that covers their ears so they won't get hurt from the loud sounds, holding onto beomgyu's and ryujin's shoulders respectively.

heeseung tucked his suit jacket and smoothed down the creases as he eyed the numerous parents coming to the recital to celebrate the graduation of the older kids who will be going to elementary school this year; no need for daycares anymore. you have mentioned some of them—mainly woonhak, hyunseo, yujin, and rami—as you both converse about your day at work, as he reminded you many times of your conflicting feelings from the overwhelming sense of emotions and your still unstable postpartum hormones.

"those children will grow up and remember you taking part in their lives."

you left the apartment for the rehearsals, borrowing his car as he has to then drive beomgyu's sedan with the two people holding onto his babies like their designated car seats. a bouquet of pink flowers and another collection of sunflowers sitting beside ryujin, who is playing around with siwoo in the back seat.

the parents there had their eyes on the twins—their eyes full of reminiscence of when their own kids were that young as heeseung told them of their age: nearly three months old. ryujin holds onto the ticket for the recital to go to their seats, their eyes set on the poster for the disney-themed performance as they look at the credits to find your name: narrated and accompanied by (l/n)(y/n).

the twins couldn't contain their excitement as beomgyu sat on his seat and jumped siah around on his thighs. the boy's eyes looking at his best friend with furrowed eyebrows and bouquets tucked in front of him to hide.

"didn't know she is also narrating the recital," heeseung uttered, confiding with his best friend to whom he can pour his hearts out.

"yeah, but you should've known because she is practicing many disney songs to play." beomgyu shook his head, can't believing even your boyfriend can see the nuance of it.

"that is because you are a fully-fledged musician, beom. and it feels to me like she kept it a secret for me." he rolled his eyes before ryujin cut in.

"she does that. i know little spoilers but you'll see why she only practices songs outside of work," your best friend said as she hold onto siwoo. their eyes were looking at heeseung, who only gave a sigh before the lights dimmed in the rest of the room, shining a spotlight on the lone stool in the middle of the stage.

claps and cheers are heard as heeseung looks to the stage to find you in a dress he had never seen you before. a white sundress that is a perfect embodiment of a cozy summer look. the little scratchiness of the acoustic guitar strap on your back also filled in with your footsteps as you bowed down in front of the parents you recognized and guests that also come along, tucking on the headset microphone closer to your lips.

sitting down and adjusting the guitar to rest on your lap, heeseung looks as you played the song he never heard you play at home, but he recognized it from his childhood. your fingers picking on the strings as your voice rings as he held onto his breath, mesmerize by everything that is you. a intimate and warm rendition of 'you'll be in my heart' from the tarzan movie he had watched when he was also a kid.

"i will be here, don't you cry~" you sing and smile, knowing what happens next as you sing the chorus and the curtains lift up behind you, showing the kids dressing up in their costumes and the backdrop of a beautiful landscape behind you. the sound of the pitter-patters from the stage combines with the children's laughter as you continue to sing, and it made heeseung's eyes sting before looking at his twins, who are also looking at the stage, mesmerized.

as he watches the performance, he now understands your role as the audience surrogate—maybe even parental surrogate. a bridge between the children and their fantasy world and the people watching as you seem to be like an all-seeing and knowing deity, asking questions the audience may also thinking in their head as the children answers, playing the music diegetically and non-diegetically as heeseung can't help but to utilizes the lessons he learned in media analysis class. the children perform with the music as you continue to accompany them until the end.

with the last song—indicated by the appearance of a small orchestra group—ended, the audience stands for the standing ovation. you lead the kids to the front of the stage as you all take a bow alongside the daycare staff who appeared on stage as the team leaders of every group on the stage. heeseung quickly steps out from his seat, and giddiness flows through his body when he sees the other parents allowed to be on stage to give their bouquets to their children.

your eyes were greeting woonhak's parents, who were beaming with joy at their child's performance, saying words about the boy who is hugging onto his dad's legs before you heard someone call for you. turning your body to the voice, your eyes enlarged as you watched heeseung standing up on stage with a bouquet of sunflowers in his hand.

"for me?" you asked as you stopped in front of heeseung, who had a sheepish smile.

"this one? no, this is for the kids," he answered as the disappointed look he expected didn't come. it was replaced with disbelief.

"wow, you even thought of them, huh? genuinely impressed." you slowly hold onto the bouquet as you see the sunflowers are separated. in an instant, you left heeseung behind to approach woonhak as you squatted down and gave him one of the sunflowers. heeseung actually followed you around, giving the flowers to children that you had taken care of as he watches some of them wrapping their arms around your neck.

the paper that encases the stems is all left as you fold it when your eyes see ryujin and beomgyu standing at the front of the stage as they looked up at the crowd there. your legs stride you there as you see your babies realizing the look of their mom there with the exclamations of "ma" ringing between them.

"hello! how are you two doing with uncle gyu and auntie ryu?" you questioned as you sat down in the position where your legs dangled off the stage as the twins reached their arms up to caress your dress.

"they're surprisingly calm during the car ride. siah was actually bopping to the rock songs on the radio," beomgyu replied as he held onto siah gently while still letting her reach out to touch your hand. the boy's eyes moved to your right as ryujin rolls her eyes whilst giggling. you turn to see a bouquet of pink flowers in your eyes as you lift up and find heeseung's heavy breathing face with a sweating forehead staring right at you.

"i was chasing you around. you were so quick," your boyfriend complained as you echoed your question.

"so, this one is for me?"

"of course, baby," he replied as you looked down at the bouquet and pulled it to your hold. your hand brush up his forehead to wipe the sweat before he wraps his arm around your waist and kisses your temple. earning a look of disgust at beomgyu and ryujin as heeseung gives a quick bird flip to the both of them before he reaches down to get siah and siwoo from their hands to your laps to get some photos.

"has it been that long since we ate out?" you eyed the hotpot broths that were slowly boiling on the table between the two of you.

"only the two of us? probably before you gave birth," heeseung replied, his forehead framed with his bangs as you both wearing some comfy outfits whilst going out after leaving the twins with your parents.

"in technicality, all four of us were there." you held onto the chopsticks and put the things you ordered into the broth. "so, i can assume that we never go out only the two of us."

"why would we back then? we're rivals, and we can't stand each other."

you hummed as heeseung put the noodles in the mala broth, "yet, here we are. sitting across from each other, dating, and also having kids with each other." he continues.

"you just have to know how much of a relief i will be having today without the twins. i love them, but i also want rest," you said it so playfully exasperated, watching the food being boiled as heeseung tasted the broth on the tip of his chopsticks.

"well, they will be with your parents today and then my parents tomorrow. we'll have the whole weekend to ourselves until we pick them up on sunday. that should probably be enough, yeah?"

"yeah," you echoed. your eyes gleaming as you stare at the boy across from you, not as a baby daddy, but as someone you are interested in.

"i think you promised me to do a tell-all on that girls' trip with you five," heeseung continues the conversation as you sighed.

"unless you also tell me that day you brought the twins to work."

"deal."

both of you blabber as you keep up with each other's lives whilst filling your stomachs up with the delicious hotpot. maybe it is because of your shared struggle that you are very comfortable talking with each other about something deeper. you both actually resolve much of the conflict you had when you were younger, from the time when you stopped him from teasing a friend of yours to him genuinely apologizing for the nosebleed you get. you talked about your friends' relationships too, mainly beomgyu and ryujin that still pisses you off because of beomgyu's "chance" by using you. but you didn't expect that heeseung has some hot takes about it, too.

"it is very shitty of him when i knew of the big picture. i actually had a talk with him about that the first time we met after i moved into the apartment with you. he shouldn't use you like that." heeseung sipped his drink before continuing, "maybe that's why he still isn't as open to you like he used to."

"yeah, i feel it too. but i am glad that he manned up and actually courted ryujin. like, that time that i said to him that because she is demiromantic might be stuck to him because he had to actually get close to her to make her interested in him." you stretch your arms up after licking the broth that was sticking to your lips.

as you put your card down to pay—"for all the numerous times you paid me for my food" you retorted to him—you walk hand in hand with heeseung on the shopping street as you eyed the numerous stores before his eyes landed on the arcade. shaking your head, you let heeseung drag you into the building with numerous neon-colored machines as he leads you both to the air hockey table. a recognisable flame in his eyes as he inserts the credits into the machine.

"come on. don't tell me you're giving up on our rivalry?" heeseung taunts you as he grabs the mallet on his side.

"it never died down ever since you brought up the twins' firsts and who saw it. bring it on!" the puck is released from its dock as you hit it with your mallet hard to the other side, eyes on the goal.

it didn't stop with air hockey; it continued to racing games both on car and motorcycle to even the game where you both have to use teamwork to fight the enemies. in the end, the giddiness of your youths comes back as you walk side by side with fingers interlocked, your other hand holding onto the bag containing your favorite joint fried chicken franchise as a takeaway. the wind of the night blowing the cool air that combats the summer's stinging heat.

pressing the number in the keypad, the familiar chime tells you to push the door handle and the door open. your feet immediatly moves to push your shoes off as you step onto the wooden floor, heading towards the kitchen island that is your dining table. you put down the bag of chicken on it, moving it around on the island until it stands near the edge on the shorter side. that is when you also noticed the sound of loud breaths and hands pressing down on your hips.

"you look so fucking sexy." the familiar voice calls as he brushes his point nose against the crook of your neck, inhaling a little bit before pressing a searing kiss on the skin. "from that dress in the recital to your freaking outfits on that girls trip" he reminded. one of his hands move to the front of you, pressing down onto the tummy where your babies were—nearing the top of your lower lips. the searing kiss trails down until the edge of the collar from your neck before he gave the skin a hard suck.

"i wanna put another baby in you." heeseung's deep tone sends goosebumps up your arms. one of your hands meets the one pressing down your tummy. you expand your neck for him, leaning back against his muscular shoulders as his hold on you moves around your body, one of them squeezing your tense breasts that lets you feel both the pain and pleasure.

"hee, we might get an irish twin, then."

"irish triplet with our current situation. besides..." one of his hands guides your head to face his—even only a glimmer of it felt hot against your cheeks, "i haven't properly thank you for giving birth to our children and the past three months."

your quick movement makes his grip on you loosen and you wrapped your hands around his neck before slamming your lips against his that he replies hungrily. your baggy clothes fold into the form of your current body as he pushes his tongue into your cavern, sensing the saliva polling around the edge of your lips. a gasp come out from your lungs as he lifted you up to sit on the kitchen island. legs already curling up as he stands in between your spreading knees. heeseung's digits continue to trail down against your front as you lean back and find yourself breathing hard the oxygen around you. you help him lift your t-shirt off of yours, letting him see the nursery bra you bought yourself because of your enlarging breasts.

"fuck…" you hiss, letting him touch the much more sensitive nipples because of the arousal as he chuckles as you lift his t-shirt off. the plane of his muscles still looks sexy even without the strain of sports training them when you move your hands across his torso before you cup his jaw and meet his lips with yours once again. kisses that felt more like devouring every inch of your mouth to each other.

"i'm gonna worship you so much," he whispers against your lips, forehead meeting yours as you let your breath intermingle when his two hands reach behind to unhook your bra. your breasts fell from the hold as they landed on your chest. heeseung's hands pushed your shoulder blades so that you sat upright before moving to your perk nipples, all sensitive to touch even with his caresses.

"you have to know…" he cups one of your boobs gently, "when i was heating up the milk for the twins when you were away for your trip." his hands now move to hold you by your ribcage right underneath your armpit, making him able to play to around with them easier.

"i tried a sip." your eyes meet where heeseung's eyes supposedly are looking, yet his focus lingers a little longer on your breasts before he lifts it up to know your reaction. lips agape, you meet his hot stare as he steps closer, brushing his clothed bulge against your covered core. the tips of your nose touching as his eyes pierced into yours.

"i bet it tastes better from the source. please, let me?" you lightly gnaw at your bottom lip, looking between his thick lips to your sensitive boobs as you decipher the hint of desperation in his tone. one of your hands moved to caress the prominent lines on his abdomen.

"i want to see you do it." your words added to your nodding as he gives you a peck on the lips before trailing them down your chin to your neck and your chest. one hand holding yourself upright on the island, his hand cup one of your boobs before squeezing it, making you let out a small moan only for him to hear combined with both of your ragged breaths.

his lips trailed down the curve before flicking the nipple with his tongue. you peer down, focusing on the nipple that heeseung wants to try.

"a little suck first, until you taste it." you guide him as his big eyes open to meet yours while his lips wrapped around the nipple. the little tug from heeseung's force startles you because it feels the same as your babies when you breastfeed. "add a bit more force." his eyebrows furrowed a little to your additional guideline, the hand holding onto your other boob give a light squeeze when he sucked with a bit more force. and when he felt the sweet and warm liquid envading his taste buds, he couldn't help but groan and close his eyes to take it in.

your moans increase in frequency as your eyes continue to focus on your boyfriend's blissful expression from breastfeeding from you. his grip on the other breast squeezes more as you feel his tongue lapping your milk. he pulls off with an evident pop, vision still on the nipples as it squirts a bit more of the milk before landing on your areola, where he trails the tip of his tongue to not let them go to waste. he meets your eyes with a grin on his face before he presses his tongue back into your cavern, letting you taste the milk your body produced.

"it is better. now i know why the twins love the milk so much. i might get addicted to this." heeseung mumbles as he is already on his way to your other boobs. fighting the coolness with his warm mouth as you chuckle from his statement.

"don't hoard the milk for yourself, baby." your hand that was on his abs moved down to his clothed bulge. his eyebrows raised as you communicate with your eyes before you felt his hand following your actions.

"i'll buy you so many food so that you can make more for the twins and me…" your boyfriend utter against your skin before sucking with the same force on your other nipple, feeling the milk getting pulled out as your fingers unbutton his jeans and zip it down. you can't help but lean your head back and whimper, enjoying heeseung's warmth from his mouth lapping up your milk to his fingers already unbuttoning your own baggy jean pants and caressing your moist core.

pulling back as he licks up the rest of the droplets of milk, your touch on his hardened covered cock is gone as he slowly kneels down. he peels away both your pants and underwear to gaze at every expanse of your skin. heeseung kisses every scar around your waist, tummy, and hips areathe past three months about most are the result of how your skin stretcch to accomodate your twins during your pregnancy. he gives special treatment on the stretch marks on your tummy, the ones he also helps with when you were too busy breastfeeding the twins to give the lotion. and then, he continues to trail down, kissing along the slit of your outer labia before finding your clit and the wet core before he licks the pre-cum up.

"i miss this pussy." he groaned then quickly followed with a shriek from you as he laps up your slit, satiating his starvation. your hand locking into the strand of his hair as the gentle heeseung begging to breastfeed is now gone in an instant. your clit slowly becomes more and more sensitive with his licks, combine that with his finger pushing into your walls makes the whole of your body shudder.

"heeseung, heeseung, baby-" you exclaimed, thighs trembling as you held it open to not crush him. he thrusts into your hole with his tongue and presses down on your nub. your toefingers cringing in pleasure as you let the moans come out of you and into the darkness of the night and comfort of your apartment. his hums create more vibration as you brush the bangs covering his forehead, finding his hooded eyes looking at yours and your blissful expression. every thrust and lick is slowly building you up to the release you haven't felt in a while. your hand movement becomes more frantic from the caress of his hair to the hold on his shoulder.

pulling away, heeseung looks at the line of spit connecting his lips to your labia, brushing them with your thumb as he stands up to peel his underwear off, dragging you off the island as you take a quick look at his erect cock, before he brought you to your bedroom. being in the front, heeseung eyes the mirror in the corner of the room beside the window as he brings you both in front of it. the corner of the bed behind you when you eyed your reflection as you hear taps on skin before turning to see heeseung manspreading on the bed, his cock twitches as it becomes harder and straighter.

you bit your bottom lip as you stepped towards him. he turned your body around and pulled you into his embrace. his cock resting in between your cheeks as you can't help but gaze at your body on his. heeseung pulls you a bit upwards as he adjust his sitting, the dick that rested behind you now folding forward as you can feel it grazing your swollen nub. his head appears on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your front as he whispers, "look in the mirror."

from the reflection, you find two naked bodies in a passionate embrace; the warmth from the orange lamp on the bedside table enforces the intimacy as you gaze down to look at your nether region touching. but when you trail upwards, you feel shivers as you meet heeseung's eyes, who has been observing just how good your body is on his. his hand doesn't stop trailing to the stretch marks when you turn your head to find his. your hand holding onto his nape as his kisses are messy, trailing his saliva down the expanse of your neck before your collarbone and shoulder.

"i want you to see just how much you enjoy getting fuck by my cock," his hands slowly moved down to your thighs respectively, "spread them for me."

you folded your knees as you rested the heels beside each side of his thighs, jaw dropping as you can see your hole spreading open in the mirror. one of heeseung's hands caresses the lower lips, spreading it open using two of his fingers against the skin. his kisses along your shoulder continue with his eyes looking at you looking downwards. a hand reaches for his hard member so close to slip inside. you spit onto the palm as you wet his tip up. his sighs is chill on your wet shoulder as he presses down on your clit and your tummy—where your womb is.

"whenever you ready, because i'm going hard," he seductively tells you, biting the lobe of your ear lightly as he sits up and holds himself steady for you to move. when you nudge his tip against your clit, both of you let out a shared moan as heeseung's grip on you tighten. you slide his tip up and down your slit before pushing it into your hole, looking at it spread as you move your hips forward to push him deeper.

both yours and his eyes focused on how your walls spread to take him in—nearly closing your eyes as heeseung whispers, "eyes stay open." the sensation is something that you missed—and something that you don't want to tell him that he is the only one that could fulfill it—as both his and your hips move in tandem to see find the tip of his cock almost slipping out before you both push together, a gasp coming out as he stole your breath when you felt him touching the entrance of your cervix.

"look at you, mama. splitting into two with my dick inside of you." you moaned at his words as the sensation stuns you to brace yourself while heeseung continues to move, making you stabilize yourself by digging your heels on the mattress and one of your hands digging into your open lower lips with a v shaped from your pointer and middle fingers, pressing it close near heeseung's cock for added touch as he groans behind you, still rubbing onto your clit.

heeseung's head rested on your shoulder, pushing down so that it won't let go as his hips move his member into and hands holding you in place. he gazes at your bouncing breasts with each thrust, your moans combining with his as he eyes the nipples where the familiar white droplets are leaking out from the nipples.

"you're so fucking- i can't believe you're mine." he babbles, the hold on your waist moves up to your breast as he felt the stickiness of his saliva and your milk, not stopping the pace of his dick drilling into you. blood rushes into your cheeks when you realise that your breast milk is leaking out. but your boyfriend doesn't even have the comprehension to stop.

"harder, daddy-" you let out a long moan as every sense in your body overwhelms you. your eyes moving between his cock pushing and pulling inside of you, his hands holding onto one of your boobs, and heeseung's face full of grit as he chases his and your highs. leaning forward, you feel the way your back is sticking to his chest from the sweat as you brace your hands on his knees, lifting your hips to meet his as you feel every deep thrust he pushes inside of you. not even a minute later, you can feel your body trembling and your hands waver as heeseung pulls you back again to him. his arm wrapped around your collar before a hand grabs onto your neck and presses down on the side.

"i'm cum-" you announced, tears in your eyes as you see the blurriness of your face and the ruined make up on your face. shaking, you let out a loud moan as you collapse back onto heeseung, who is close because of his pattern of groans.

"cum inside me, daddy," you mumbled out, egging him on as your orgasm makes you open your eyes wide and clear. the wetness from your cum spilling out with his thrust as he holds onto your body tighter and tighter, his lips founding your neck as he gives a long suck while moaning against your skin. his warm semen coats your walls as he continues to groan; gravity does its thing as he fills you up so full that it starts to leak out.

you watch as heeseung's flushed face holds open your thighs wide, eyes on your nether region as you follow him to find his white semen leaking from around his cock as your lips continue to grip on him. your hands is the one that reaches down, picking up a trail of it from a prominent vein on his dick, and places it by your perky nipple, let his cum meets your breastmilk as he reaches up to caress the mixture, your boob, and your hand in the same squeeze—making you tilt your head as he slams his swollen lips on yours. his hums making hum as well as you felt his other hand touching the area where you and he meet, the stickiness of both of your releases on his palm

pulling away from the hot kiss, you mumbled, "one more."

"one more?"

"one more load from you, daddy, please." your hooded eyes meets his, clamping onto his cock as your lips brushes against his. then, a blur of movement pulls out another puff of breath from you.

your back landed on the matress, whimpers came out of you as he pulled out when his body now before you, kneeling on the beds as you spread your legs open for him. both of your cum squeezes out from your moving walls. heeseung doesn't hesitate, pluging deep inside of you as your eyes enlarges and lips widen into a smile.

"YES- ah!" you shouted, his legs grabbing onto your respectively as he pushes down, folding your body as it still shakes with every thrust he pushes in. your hands reaching on the forearms that holding onto your legs, locking you both into the position. heeseung continues to drill into you, your pussy's wetness from your natural lubricants and his semen becoming music into his ears along with the skin slapping and your moans.

"fuck- you can take it, yeah mama? one more load?"

"yes, yes, yes, yes- daddy!" you replied as he let go of his hold on your legs and leaned forward, pushing him deeper as your legs wrapped themselves behind his back. his hands sit beside your head, every movement from him drags you up the bed as he finally leans down and swallow your moans all to himself. his hand grabs onto the breast where you spread his cum on, leaning down so he trail of his off before to your nipple and he suck hard to get the milk out.

"fuck yes!" you exclaimed, hands moving down to his ass where you hold him there to push him more, "breed me, breed me, breed me- i'm cum-"

your body trembles underneath heeseung's as you hold onto his back to press him down against you, riding your high as he chases his own. his hold on your throat continues as he leans so close to make your lips involuntarily kiss each other's with every push. a thumb from the hold on your neck presses down onto your bottom lips to make you suck on them as he hides his head in your neck—holding himself as deep as he can inside of you for last time tonight as he groans for you, adding more load of his release for your walls to hold on.

hands reaching for his head as you slowly brought them in front of you, ragged breathes bouncing on each other as you adjust your breathing to his. a chuckle coming out from both of you as you pulled him down and kiss the freckle on his forehead before trailing down to his fluttering eyelids to his swollen lips. the only sound is from your breath before the familiar ringtone comes from outside of the room.

"get it for me, daddy? i feel wobbly as fuck."

"for sure, mama." he kissed your cheek as he stands up, seeing that he is also stumbling while a few of your releases flung from his dick that whips around everytime he moves—making you giggle more as you heard him say "fuck you" from outside the bedroom. his footsteps get closer as he throws your t-shirt for you before putting the phone on speaker as he tugs onto his own tee. the familiar cry coming from the end of the call.

"sure-" you're startled by your hoarse voice before clearing them with a cough, "sure, sorry for picking up late. just preparing to get to sleep."

the call quickly changes to a video call as you regard heeseung, who is back from the bathroom, your makeup remover on one hand and a small towel on the other. on the screen of your phone, you are faced with the appearance of your crying son as you clear your throat again.

"siwoo-yah. mama's here," you called out as heeseung sat beside you, hands holding open your thighs as he lightly pats your core and cleans your releases from your lower lips.

hearing your voice, siwoo's cry seems to die down as he looks into your screen to see his mom's face while his grandma seems to bounce him when you notice just how sleepy he is.

"was he asleep before he cried, mom?" you questioned. the screen flips upwards to see siwoo on your mom's lap.

"yeah, i just think he missed his parents. that's all."

"we missed you too, buddy," heeseung calls from off-screen as the look in siwoo's face changes in recognition. pushing your hand forward, you slowly gave your phone to heeseung's other hand and tried your best to not show your mom what you both were doing while she was taking care of her grandchildren to sleep.

siwoo exclaims as he sees his dad on the screen, making you able to his with every caress of the towel against you core from how sore you are as heeseung comes to help soothe him before singing the lullaby he sings to get the babies to sleep—you following him in a whispers.

you settle all morning in heeseung's embrace when you wake from the warm shower you both have last night. all the plans for day two without your twins go away as you both are just there in each other's hands, and your social battery recharges as you spend quality time with each other- including a little cockwarming action as you help strategise his next moves in league of legends.

as the last day ends, siwoo and siah are tucked in their car seats as you sit in between them. the groceries and other things you got today sitting in the front seat with heeseung as he drives all of you home. heeseung's parents' words about how polite these two are give a sense of pride for yourself and their son as you pick them up, holding onto two more bags of goodies his parents and yours also give to the twins and their parents.

after taking a warm shower, you lean yourself back on the bean bag as you hold onto the controller, staring at the projection of the colorful gameplay of it takes two on the wall. a hiss comes out from heeseung who fails another jump on the platforming as you waited on the other end, following with a hiss of your own as you look down on your bare chest to see both the twins breastfeeding on each boob at the same time.

"i'm getting second-hand embarrassment from seeing you struggling so much." you tilt your head to face him on his own bean bag.

"i'm trying here, baby."

"yeah, you are. that's your fault for boasting a bit too much." your voice pitch goes a little high in the word 'bit' as he lets out a full sigh when he finally sees your character on his side of the screen. you recall his words as he bought the game off of the steam marketplace—"cool premise for a game about a married couple and their struggles but played by a young couple whose relationship is blooming from a place of competition," his words echo—yet, he is the one that is mad with himself.

peering down when you hear the sound, siah leans back and coughs as heeseung steps from his bean bag, bringing it beside yours as he picks up siah from your chest and into his arms, patting her back so she can swallow the food against his bare torso. the light refracted from the wall also lighting up your skin; specifically much more comfortable in being topless around each other the blinds are sealed shut.

you held onto siwoo, who is still enthusiastically drinking milk when you heard the burp from siah as heeseung turns his head to face you with a smirk. "one down and one more to go."

"i don't think they will rest soon." you point at your daughter, who is already mesmerised by the moving scenery of the game on the wall.

"that's okay. family bonding time, besides…" heeseung gently holds onto siah as he leans down towards your side, "i can take a sip of your milk again anyway, right? so that one is not lopsided."

rolling your eyes, you caress siwoo's hair before saying, "sure, baby."

heeseung leans down and laps the leftover from siah's feeding time before sucking lightly on the nipple and let him sip little by little, can't help but brushing the hairs of your boys that were clinging onto you as your girl speaks in her baby speak whilst looking at how the projection moves around with your movement on the thumb stick, fascinating her with the world of game and even the real world more and more.

"a-wa-wahh?"

"agooo!"

"yeah, i know," heeseung replied as he held onto the twins wearing their matching onesies of the zootopia characters. the bunny ears on siah pushed back so she can look at you who is still finishing your halloween look: adding onto the drawing on your skin so that it could look more "ripped up".

you looked one last time at your halloween outfit, a modern, last-minute outfit based on frankie stein from monster high as the girls finally settled on the outfit theme they wanted to wear. pulling a little bit of your shirt down, you clean up your look as you turn around to find heeseung and your children already waiting for you.

"done- oop, my bag." heeseung rolls your eyes as you approaches the bedside table to pick up the bag that you had prepared.

heeseung stands up as he brings the two babies into their car seats before you both lift them up respectively to the car's back seat—settling them down with the instructions you are familiar with by now. you give a long sigh and sit at the front seat as the car heats up the machine.

"we're probably going to arrive there late," he said, hands holding onto the sterring wheel.

"i mean, your outfit is really easy. your minecraft skin?"

"we could do a family halloween costume, but you already promised to coordinate with your girls. hence, i'm doing the same with my boys."

"i would love to do that next halloween."

a hand reaches for your thigh as you follow it to see heeseung's smirk already appearing. "there'll be a next time, huh?"

"you're stuck with me 'until the heat death of the universe', right?" you reminded him of his own words as you both chuckle. his hand grabbing onto the stick and move it to drive as the car moves forward. "you've send the link to the group chat?"

"yeah, when we were waiting for you. it is mostly your doing so i'll be the one doing the talking," heeseung answered as the car drove out of the parking lot onto the street.

"you don't need to be that serious. it's just a friendly presentation night with the others, but we're doing it together." you lean back against the seat as heeseung continues to give a squeeze on your thigh. a small click coming from his lips.

"you do remember that we are competitive as fuck, (y/n)? even if i go easier on you, it doesn't mean i will do the same with the others." you sighed with his answers, finding the familiar fiery eyes he has on even with a small glance. your hand reaches for his on your thigh, giving him your answer without words as you check on the twins in the back seat.

the car arrives at heeseung's former apartment complex before he moved in with you. jimin was already standing by the parking lot as he approached the parked car when heeseung went out and gave him a huge hug, guiding him to you as he helps carry siah's car seat alongside heeseung with siwoo's.

for this year's halloween, the gang—with the addition of yunjin and jaehyuk as the ones filling in in both of your old rooms and many of your closest friends—wanted it more to be a small get together like the new year's party you both were also invited to: filled with the same faces that you won't probably see during the winter break and eventually, the graduation.

squeels come as you opened the door to the apartment you haven't step in a while to be greeted with yunjin and minjeong who approaches you, arms wide in giving you a tight hug as you look as minjeong's clawdeen and yunjin's draculaura's outfits.

"where are my nephew and niece?" you heard the sound of your long-time best friend who comes in with her ghoulia outfit including her glasses. ryujin arrives as she crouches in front of the car seats where siwoo and siah are seated, leaving them behind to her and you as heeseung greets his boys as jeongin gave him a diamond sword to add to his costume property.

with the main agenda of the whole get-together being the presentation night, the wheel of names calls the name of beomgyu and ryujin before being followed by chaeryeong and jimin to then you and heeseung. the twins settled down on minjeong and jeongin's laps as they played around with them. your eyes focusing on the screen-shared tv as you let out a chuckle on the title of their presentation.

"the desperation of choi beomgyu vs the nonchalantness of shin ryujin," said the girl, speaking in a gradiose tone as you can't help but let out a chuckle because of your involvement in this. however, not the sweetest one, as you can already feel a little tug on your heartstrings at what will be mentioned. your eyes move around to find heeseung's on yours, a look of worry recognisable on his face before he picks himself up and asks chaeryeong in her cleo de nile outfit if he can sit beside you. his hands instantly hold yours, relaxing your shaking hands in his warm hold as you brace for what is to come in the presentation.

"the thing is, (y/n) had a crush on beomgyu for a while, and i genuinely didn't know that the reason he was visiting our place was because he was looking for me. i might have a feeling that it was because beomgyu reciprocate her feelings that he came every week, other than following heeseung's want." ryujin candidly speaks—something that you love about her as she just can't seem to hide something that could resolves somenone's conflict, inside and out.

"and when (y/n) and heeseung had a big fight, she came to me and confessed her feelings. and, i have to say no. other than my focus in pining for ryujin, i just knew that by that time, my best buddy here," beomgyu points to heeseung with an open palm, "was already catching feelings for (y/n)."

"you did?" you turned to face heeseung, his eyes looking at beomgyu before you, and he nods.

"when we opened up to each other, i realized how bad it feels to be treated like that for a long time. then with the whole pregnancey too."

"yet you don't plan on telling me that?" you pushed back to his words, creating a few whoops before giggles as you also let out a smile, knowing how funny this all is. the pout formed on your lips added more to the faux sadness you want the others to see as heeseung pulls you to him.

"hey, hey," he kisses your temple, "in the end, i'm here, right? i'm your boy, baby." you hummed to his answer as you could see ryujin and beomgyu grimacing from your affectionate display.

"you two do it too." you glare at them teasingly while the other couple in the room—minjeong and sungchan—remain unscathed in this whole ordeal.

after chaeryeong and jimin's enlightening presentation about the hardest dance style they have to dance inside and outside of their current studio, you opened the slides you have edited to be met with oohs and ahhs, then chuckles as they see the familiar faces of the presenters as children.

"how we (former basketball players) will assign your positions in a basketball team," heeseung says the title as he is even startled by the picture you put at the start: your pictures in middle school when you both still play basketball. your nose bridge has a bandage right across it as heeseung is holding a basketball by his right arm. you both looked so done with each other as you remembered the smiles your mom had behind his mom who is taking the picture.

"god, you both look so disgusted standing beside each other," chaeryeong mumbles as she continues to laugh as the presentation continues. some of the thoughts written here are from little conversations you have with heeseung from walking across each other, finishing another level of it takes two, or some spoken when you both are so close to sleep. heeseung knew that sungchan would be a good center because of his tall stature, and you chimed in with minjeong being small forward. the funny thing is that you argue a lot with him about where jeongin is supposed to be.

"he's a good shooter. i played with him before."

"but he is also great with his reflexes. he is a practically pro gamer at his point because of streaming."

heeseung can only chuckle as he sees little inclusions of photos from when you were children to his photo from the decelis team. in the last slide as you present, his gaze at the picture of when you were both in elementary school standing side-by-side in your basketball jerseys with the same design. he can't help but look at his twins, seeing a glimpse of the faces in the picture in their still chubby faces.

"any questions?" you call out as you see eunseok lift his hand up.

"i didn't know you were a basketball player before, (y/n). why'd you stop?"

you let out a thin smile to his question, eyes already moving to heeseung who stands before you with his head turned back to observe. "it's because of heeseung, actually. at some point in our life-long rivalry, i got tired of keeping up with him and decided to stop basketball in high school to go on my own path."

"because i'm the better one between us with basketball." said boy responds as you roll your eyes, "but (y/n) here still has some chops on the court. i've seen it myself and her advice actually made us won the last basketball season."

jimin also raises his hand as you point at him, "do you want to teach your kids basketball someday?"

both of you look towards the twins, who are now sitting on auntie minjeong and uncle sungchan's laps, respectively. their wide eyes are looking expectantly at you both as you could see siah looking at the screen behind you, a glimpse to seeing her parents when they are closer to her age.

heeseung caress on your lower back captures your attention as he gives a small tilt on his head. "i think it would be good to teach them basketball as soon as possible, right, baby? especially since our lease ended next march."

"but you'll be the one paying for the rings and balls and stuff. and…" you peck his cheek, "that's a confirmation that you will help me teach them how to walk."

your comment creates more laughter as you teasingly show your tongue to him and evade his kiss as you end your presentation and sit down, letting minjeong give you both siwoo and siah as they lean their heads against your torso. heesseung's arm rests behind you on the couch as he scoots closer.

"wakey-wakey, baby."

heeseung groan as he felt kisses on his puffy face, hands wrapping around his chest as he slowly opened his eyes to see a blurry view of a figure before him. all he could do was give a small smile as he felt a peck on his lips.

"we get around an hour and a half to check out from the hotel. come on," the voice calls to him as he is being pulled up to sit upright. heeseung blows some raspberries before he blinks away the blurriness to find you with your fluffy bed hair, trying to not let your heavy eyelids win against your consciousness. after all, it is your last day in osaka before moving to another city.

genuinely, heeseung felt bad to be outside of the country only with you. but his parents and yours are so happy to have their grandchildren stay with them more. the twins also seem to enjoy it—though you always remind them to not treat them too much. a japan trip is something you and heeseung decided on at the last minute, but it is more in a way that you have also choke him with japanese movies akin to nobody knows, such as drive my car and all about lily chou-chou. you do have to sacrifice much of your schedule to heeseung, who is already noting osaka as his main destination because of mainly universal studios with the harry potter and nintendo area.

you both spend the whole day there, utilizing the expensive tickets for the rides in both harry potter and nintendo areas. he takes a picture of you in the recreation of the hogwarts castle with your house robe alongside the slytherin robe that he is wearing. he was the one who bought the hats from nintendo world with you and your luigi hat, and he with his mario's: completing the look. even for a trip around a week, you've learned more about him because of your situation outside of your comfort zone. he is surprised by your basic knowledge of the japanese language—courtesy of the media you consumed. but he also surprised you by how gentle he is throughout the trip, not interjecting as much as he usually does.

the train ride to kyoto was filled with clear blue skies as you lean against his shoulder with his own rubbing against your arm. the autumn weather added more to the scenery as the colors of the leaves changed and fell, yet some greenery stayed in few specks on the earth. your eyes settled on the moving buildings outside of the wall as you could feel heeseung's steady breaths from the nap he is taking.

during the trip, you both don't really talk as much and enjoy each other's company. with every glance shared between the two of you, you could communicate what you want. you both walked around the neighborhood where the accommodation is: a small cabin by the river overlooking the much more fuller side of kyoto along with a glimpse of its castles and temples. your phone is held in your hand as you can't help but to take a picture of the street you are in—the last lush greenery before autumn brushs it away along with the little glimmer of lights from the wet streets of rain. as you bowed your head at the caretaker who gave you the key, you opened the door to find a quaint house complete with a kitchen and a patio at the back where you can take a look at the beuatiful scenery—something that you will enjoy later in the day.

heeseung's attention is always on you as you both walk around the castle at the center of kyoto, taking picture of you in his mind as you gracefully sightsee and take pictures of what you take interests in. the cold weather brushes against his warm cheeks as he follows you around like you do him back in universal studios—reacting to the mundane things you like about the city itself. much different than what a city like osaka has to offer.

he always has his eyes on you as you look around a small market selling homemade items from pottery to arts that he can't help but to take pictures of candidly, adding to a gallery full of pictures of you he had in his phone. something that heeseung from one year ago would not even comprehend to even make.

you both carried a few groceries back home after eating dinner at a delicious ramen restaurant for your breakfast for the next three days. the sun rays pushing through the branches as you take in the orange of the sunset sky. heeseung keeping up beside you as you two walk slowly—letting you take in the atmosphere.

"i think it's nice if we can find a neighborhood like this for a place to stay. just," you paused before turning your head. "somewhere quaint. it doesn't have to be exactly like this."

"a place where the twins can walk around and we can just live slowly," heeseung added as you hummed.

"you want that? living slowly?" you furrowed your eyebrows at his statement, eyes looking at how even adulting and being a dad has affected him with the dark circles under his eyes from uncertain time of sleep.

"someday. we have to grind to get that though. we barely finish uni and we're thinking about so much. maybe, we can invest in something too. i don't know…" you felt a nudge on your hand from him, "you're the business student out of the two of us. what do you think?"

"i think," you cleared your throat, "investing in something could be good. it doesn't have to be stock because it fluctuates so much. i think gold will be good because it increases every time because of rarity. it's just," shaking your head, you eyed heeseung as you are approaching your accomodation—the light rain landing on your skin. "we now have to think about the future. not just for us now, but for the twins too in their next 18 years of life, and maybe even our legacy that will be with them after we die."

heeseung had a small smile on his face after you mentioned the twins before it quickly turned into something comical, "this is actually the most mature you have ever sounded."

"shush!" you nudge his shoulders as he giggles behind you, jogging towards your cabin as you open the front door to let your hands finally rest.

drinking the warm broth, you both sit on the back patio decorated by the sound of rain pitter-pattering against the roof and the land. the gloomy color gives you more comfort as the green colors pop more from the scenery. heeseung gazes at the heavy raindrops as the tension he carries seems to dissipate along with the flowing water. his ears waiting for your follow up on your conversation.

"so, in conclusion: is the 2024 olympics good?"

"that," heeseung points out, even with his hand showing towards you, "has so many subjective answers that i still even try to figure out."

"hey, you're the one that is saying to me that your company tasks you to create content about the olympics, even for youtube. i supposed you have your opinion about it." you put down your bowl on the small table, tucking your knees to your chest.

"well, if you want an honest opinion of mine…"

"yeah?" your tone showing curiosity.

"i actually like the paralympics better. so many categories within one category that you can talk about. it has much more camaraderie, even between the athletes. plus, i do really like watching wheelchair basketball and goalball. like, the limitations don't stop them." heeseung took a small peek at you before focusing on the scenery before him; the words you've spoken stuck in his mind.

yes, heeseung can see himself living his life in a place like this. maybe he could be a local radio dj and curate local and independent artists like beomgyu and his band. maybe he could be a coach for a small group of kids that fell in love with sports—he doesn't mind learning more about sports other than basketball. maybe he could be a local reporter, journaling every news, both good and bad, for everyone to know. maybe-

"heeseung?"

his inner tangent stopped itself as he turned his body around, looking at how you are holding onto a small box in hand as he furrowed his eyebrows instantly. "(y/n) what-"

he holds back on his chuckles as you continue, eyes looking between the box and your face, "i, uh, buy them. for us." you open the box, showing him two thin bands of ring that is like what you described. you scoot closer to him, letting his eyes observe the rings before peering back at you.

"think of it as a promise ring of sorts because…" you flick your eyes away from him, letting him observe your side profile. "as much as i don't want to acknowledge it, you've been there my whole life. as a rival, borderline enemies, a friend, and now a romantic partner. and i just can't see myself living my life without you in it, even if you are freaking annoying. um…"

the big smile on your face as you talked about you two's relationship slowly faded as you cleared your throat, "well, i think this is a promise from me about what you talked months ago. until the heat death of the fucking universe."

he slowly picks up the ring as he gently twist it between his fingers. an amused look on his face as he looks back at you, smiling with an awkward grin and panic eyes. but, he melts it away as he kisses the corner of your mouth.

"here, let me help you." he gently holds your hand as he pushes the ring by your middle finger until it rests by the edge. you placed the box on your lap as you picked up the other ring and slipped it onto heeseung's middle finger, him folding the other fingers and making you giggle.

"it's us against the world, baby." he shows the middle finger up into the grey sky. laughter flying between the two of you as you show your middle finger as well, high up to become the center point of your vision.

heeseung turns his head to face you as he leans forward and catches your attention with a little peck, making you turn your head around as you gaze at him.

"i love you, (l/n)(y/n)."

your eyebrows raised when hearing his words. "i…" his word trails before he lets out a huge smile. a sincere look in his eyes that seems to washed away your doubt as you could feel your eyes starting to water.

"it's true what beomgyu said ever since the start of your pregnancy. but it… grows to us being tolerable with each other, then becoming comfortable, and then becoming open with each other. and," he looks down at the ring adorning his finger, "i always thought i never outwardly call it love. but it is, and your promise ring solidified that-"

his words got cut out as you leaned in to kiss him, a huge smooch before you pulled back and placed your hand on top of his. then, you pushed yourself to stand up, pulling him with you as the rain continued, adding the calmness of the background to your moment with each other.

you brought him to your shared bedroom. the futons the caretaker has said to you both lay down for you to sleep on. but it became a background to your response to heeseung. his eyes still looking at the comfy futon as you turn his head to face yours. he breathes in, letting the scent of you enter him as he puts his hands on your waist like you are on his nape.

"i love you, lee heeseung," you whispered against his lips, letting him feel every movement of the words that you said before giving him a short yet huge kiss.

"let me show it to you." your hands already reaching inside his top, feeling the planes of muscles formed even with some fat in them.

"we only have futons-"

"futons are enough," you answered by his ear. his arms reach up as you pull the top upwards to the ends of his head and hands. a hand reaches to the middle of his chest—feeling how he breathes—before you move to your right. his heartbeat sensed and connects with your pulse.

heeseung's breath is taken away as you push him down on the futon. his arms are pushing against it, holding himself upright. his eyes peering up to you as you peel away your top slowly, making him gulping down his saliva. then, you kneeled down, hand reaching for his nape to bring him back to your kisses—softly caressing his jaw as he can feel how you furrowed your eyebrows to send the sincerity of the love you have for him.

he leans his head back, showing the expanse of his neck that you let your kisses trail down. his groans are covered by the heavy rain, letting him be more open and loud about it. your hand also trails down his torso, rubbing against his nipples before trailing in between his muscles. heeseung looks down at your moving head, feeling the warmth with every touch as you peer your head up to look at him, kissing his evident bulge beneath his jeans.

button and zipper opened up as heeseung lets you pull away his jean pants and boxers, his hardening cock springing up as you spit your palm before stroking him. his hand reached for your hair, brushing it away as he felt how your mouth enraptured the head of his cock. saliva gathering as you brush them along the tip as you then give a suck, heeseung's hand reaches for your cheek and then the jaw.

"love-" he called out. he called out to you as he could feel the hand holding him upright weaken. eyes peering at the way his cock sinks into your cavern along with the slurping sound that added to the sensation of your tounge on the underside. his groans follow along with your own, observing how one of your hands is slipping into your open pants and brushes yourself against the fingers. his eyes widened as he looked at how you pushed yourself downward more, taking him deeper as he could hear you gag, pulling away from him as strings of saliva connected your lips to his member.

you lick them up against your swollen lips, letting him focus his sight on your voice as you stand up, pushing your pants and underwear down in an instant before joining his pants into the pile of clothes by the door of the bedroom. the rain still continues pouring as you can't help but feel just how wet you are and how eager heeseung is by grabbing onto your calves to pull you down.

pushing him back to lay completely down on the futon, his hands move to your waist as you sit on his lap, brushing yourself against his shaft as he heard your whimpers. his heart feels so full and intoxicated for you as the grazes of his hand with the promise ring runs against your warm skin from the lust. then, you reach for his cock as you brace yourself upwards, sliding it around your slit until you find your lower lips, spreading it open with his tip.

"i love you," you say in such a gentle voice, eyes looking at his face before upwards at the ceiling as you sink down onto his cock slowly, letting him feeling every ridge of your walls as they suck on him. both of you let out a moan, your body stretched all out from the sensation as you finally unclasp your bra and letting them fall onto his abdomen. you move them away as you lean your arm against his chest, lifting yourself up and then down to sink him deeper into you until he felt your cervix.

"baby, i love you." he echoes your words with his own sincerity, hands moving up and down your upper body as he lets you take control of the pace, enticing you with his caress against your sensitive nipples. heeseung gazed at how you try to hold yourself by biting your bottom lip, both hands that were on his pectorals now only left one as the other moves to hold onto his knees. your hips now moving in an upward motion, his tip nearing from slipping out until it did from the wetness, making you both groan by the sudden emptiness before you push the shaft back as the head gently moves along your slit and nudge into the hole as you let it pierce into you once again.

your moans started to get louder as heeseung's hands become more frantic. that is when he pushes himself to sit up and embrace you fully in his hold, making your hand move to his shoulders as he gives a suck on the nipple, tasting the sweetness from your breast milk that spills out from how you ride him.

"heeseung…" you gasped, making him lift his head up from the other nipple as you rested your forehead against his, eyes drooping down because of the pleasure as you stayed in contact no matter how close. his hands move to your bottom, helping you by pushing you upwards as you melt away on his cock.

"i'm gonna cum-" your voice whispers against him, making him more determined to chase his high for you as he fold his legs and grind his heels on the ground before he pushes his hips upward, making you both fall on the momentum as you now lay on top of him skin to skin.

his hand reaches to your cheek, rubbing slightly against your butthole before he presses the rim of your lower lip, feeling every movement both you and he are doing as your kisses press against his cheek. heeseung felt how his eyes are rolling backwards into his skull from your orgasm making your lips and walls grip so tight on him, his groans a telling sign for you of his climax as you feel his cum flowing inside of you.

but he doesn't stop and he pushes so that you now laying on the futon. your grip loose yet on his shoulders as you let go for him to take control. legs wrapped on his back as he sets the pace for one more for the both of you. loud moans and groans are replaced with softer whimpers and whines as heeseung deliciously moves into you, as slow as possible as he etched your walls into his mind. your wide eyes gaze at him, your lips mouthing numerous "i love you"s that he can feel when his lips brush yours, connecting them for you to know he will also flaunt that to you. both of your lips brushing against each other whilst saying "i love you" as he increases his pace.

his hand reaches for yours, connecting the rings with each other as he interlocks the fingers between yours. your face is writhing in pleasure, eyes don't want to close to focus back on heeseung. hips moved to different angles so he could reach it all as the rain continues to pour into the raven night—becoming the background of the show of your love to each other until it finally stops.

your eyes stayed on the promise finger hanging on your middle finger before a tap on your shoulders startle you, making you turn around to face your best friend. her eyes seems to gleam with tears of joy as she looks down at your outfit and the graduation gown.

"no, no, don't cry again, ryu-"

she wrapped her arms around your shoulder before flinging you around. her hands holding onto her hat as you are with yours. you pat your hand on the back, the sentimentality of it all coming back to you because of how it will become rare to even see ryujin again after being with her for around seven years since high school.

"we haven't even done the ceremony yet," you stated a fact.

"yeah, but i'm going to miss you so much, (y/n). i genuinely miss you after you moved out like a year ago. even with heeseung and his icks." she also stated her fact as you giggled.

"you'll do great like, you graduated uni and already become a creative director for txt? i can't wait to see what you'll do to them in the future. don't cut beom's hair though."

she rolled her eyes at your comment before replying, "he is the one that's going to force to make him cut his hair. but i think he does look good in any haircut."

"don't be all whipped for beomgyu in front of me." you playfully hit her as she wraps her arm around your shoulder.

"don't be like that with heeseung too, lovely." she nudges your cheek with her nose as you gaze at the auditorium where the graduation ceremony will be done. the shadows of the afternoon clear sky pools the ground as ryujin has taken a photo of it with you for her instagram. you both approach your girls, chaeryeong and minjeong, who also wear their own graduation gowns. yunjin is away as she is picking up kazuha so she can give the flower to both her and you.

"wow, we graduating, huh?" minjeong says, her wispy hair touching her cheeks from the wind.

"i'm really, really going to miss you guys so much," chaeryeong says as her hand is placed on the lower part of your back before she continues, "we still are going to do that project, right? the la la land-esque movie?"

you giggled at her questions as minjeong raised her eyebrows as you recalled the scene. a drunken conversation with two bottles of wine in your apartment resulting in a brainstorming idea of making a movie musical similar to la la land. minjeong is handling the movie production and directing, chaeryeong is creating the choreography of it all, ryujin, with her design and creativity, is going for the marketing tactics for posters and such where she works alongside you, who is producing all of it. remembering that project you discussed in your second year reminds you of how these girls are going to be your ride or die even after graduation and you all go your separate ways in life.

"we need to make that happened. our two-year-old dream project. we can even have txt fill in the soundtrack and the rest of the boys help with the script. fully independent." you echoed chaeryeong who is already tugging you in her embrace.

"your business-minded thoughts are flowing, (y/n). gonna have to note that in my phone, wait a sec." ryujin chuckles as minjeong pulls out her phone to actually jot down your sayings, making you pout at her familiar action.

"i'll be missing you, guys." you open your arms wide as they step in. your head on minjeong's shoulder with left arm around chaeryeong and right arm with ryujin. a very tight and warm hug with so many emotions as you also heard the sobs coming from them.

"okay, distraction: where's your babies?" chaeryeong says as she pulls away, staring at you as she wiped her tears away from the corner of her eyes.

"they're with my parents probably this way." you pointed towards the graduate parents supposed to gather at, focusing on searching for the bow you put in siah's hair that is similar in color to the outfit you are wearing. your eyes enlarged as you see what you're looking for, held by heeseung's dad as you arrived there with your girl squad.

"there's mama." uncle lee said as siah's squeal caught your attention before looking to the side to see siwoo in your dad's hold. your mom and heeseung's mom are locking arms as they seemed to walk around the crowd.

"siah!"

"siwoo!"

their aunties gathered for them as you give uncle lee and your dad an exasperated sigh before asking, "where's heeseung?"

"i am here," said boy replying as he wrapped his arm in front of you, pulling you backwards as he kisses the side of your head. turning around, you see heeseung with his boys as they approach the twins. his gown covering the shirt he decided to matched up with your outfit.

hands trailing to the collar, you smoothed down the front of the gown before saying, "you look good, baby."

"so do you, love." he leans to give a peck on your lips before turning your body around to face your friends and families.

"good, you both are here," auntie lee calls to you, still walking beside mom before they both hold onto their phones.

"we got to have a picture of you four, and maybe we can help with your friends also," your mom added.

"we can also help with taking a picture for the family, auntie," beomgyu said as jeongin nodded his head beside him.

"perfect! we have to go fast before the ceremony starts," mom exclaimed as you reached your hand out to carry siwoo while heeseung holds siah. the weight of your baby is far heavier with their growth as they start to be able to grab tight onto the nearest things they can hold.

you settle your body beside heeseung as you tried to make siwoo focus on the camera. that is when you see jimin and minjeong waving their hands behind your mom's stature to capture their attention, making you smile widely at the sight as you pose with heeseung beside you. the first ever family of all four of you, which you want to frame beside both of your diplomas.

the framed diploma rested on the wall on top of the table you are tidying in your last touches. the warmth atmosphere of the room combines with the setting sun outside as you turn your body around: admiring the house that you have fully decorated.

with the lease ending in early march, you and heeseung have been searching for a neighborhood you think you can live in. good for you both, but also good for the twins. the search commences even before your graduation, using the place you stayed at in kyoto as a perfect frame of reference. with heeseung's position much more in shape as he is now being brought onto the fields and courts to interview coaches and players, plus to accommodate for your job now but also wanting to have a sense of calmness: you both decide to pick a suburban area that is pretty close to public transport.

and so, when you see a sale sign in front of a house that has a backyard at the end in a quaint neighborhood as you both drive around, you can see the place as your home instantly.

you both are lucky that both his and your parents are very supportive of the decision—"of course, we are. cause you both are our only child and you will then inherit our assets." dad says which uncle lee also agrees with—that they also help you deal with the bank for a loan for the house which you both will have pay off in 10 years. both of you are much more determined when clear objectives are set as you helped prepare in the home economics side of things such as savings for your family's day-to-day lives and the twins' education.

eyes gazing at the house that is fully decorated, you watch the twins play with their toys in the living room. siah is crawling around to go to siwoo, who is playing with a sensory toy. your vision then moves to the set up of the large television on the table where heeseung's consoles settle there beside a shelf full of board games and card games. you could already imagine spending much of your free time here.

looking back at the door leading to the backyard, you are met with heeseung's apparition as he stands there, making you follow him there.

the backyard itself is pretty big and there are garden beds where you could try to garden some vegetables. it is connected to the carpark where your car and heeseung's car are parked. a basketball ring stands tall there with the little one beside it as you can imagine heeseung working out his skills and even asking you to play a 1 vs 1 game with him other than his workout equipment by the patio.

"hey…" you called out, making heeseung turn his head at you.

"hey," he replies with a smirk on his face before he looks away. you both don't really need words to communicate with each other anymore, as even spending time doing other things is enough. knowing deep down that heeseung seems to need space to take in the new house he will come home to.

your eyes have already gazed at the corner of the backyard that will look good with a tree. imagining the big shade of the many leaves added more to the comfort of the home.

"what do you think-" your words are cut off after you see what happened when you turned your head.

heeseung, kneeling down in front of you, his gleaming promise ring sits on top of a velvet box.

"(l/n)(y/n). even with our rich and complex history, you have always been there. seeing me in my highs and lows even though you tease them a lot. i can't see myself living without you. so here i am," a chuckle comes out from him as you echoed with your own, "asking you if you want to be my eternal life rival even after death tears us away from each other."

a pout showing on your lips as your eyes are heating up and tears threatening to fall out when you heard the very words as he flips the velvet box, showing you the ring in the same color as your promise rings.

"will you marry me?"

a sigh came out from you as you nodded, kneeling down in front of him as you gave him a huge embrace. his chuckles tingles before he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, breaking down in front of you as you can't help of the amount of pressure he has althrough out this.

hands on either side of his head, you give him a sizzling kiss before leaning your forehead against his. looking downwards, you find the engagement ring he bought for you as your observation on the details makes your heartstrings tug more. the band is as thin as your promise ring but the gleaming metal doesn't stop there. a flower is also made from metal: a combination of both siwoo and siah's representation in your lives.

as heeseung slip the ring into your left hand's ring finger, your eyes caught onto the movement of your babies as they crawl to approach you. both of your arms open to gather them in your arms as you look at them climbing onto yours and heeseung's lap, respectively. looking at their faces, you could already guess that this will be your whole world.

"happy birthday to you!" the song rings as you sing while holding siah in your arms, your eyes gaze at the minimalist decoration for the twins' first birthday and also a house warming party for your family and friends, all from your gang of 8, the rest of your same year first friends, the decelis basketball team players, to even both of your extended families.

"blow the candle!" your mom calls out as you lean forward alongside heeseung, helping to blow the flame out as the wick is near the single candle representing their one year of life. siah seems to follow your lips as you blow away the fire before facing you with that expression. the cake that you homemade stands there cutely before you let them taste the cream whilst cutting it for the guests.

the twins stand whilst holding on the short coffee table as they lick up the cream you gave them, seeing their eyes widening from the sweet taste before they show their smiles before speaking up for you. but, then they started to wiggle their butts together that almost makes you faint as heeseung holds onto to you after placing the cake onto the plate.

you let the twins go around the house, already babyproofing much of your pieces of furniture as their new form of skills of walking is taking over. siwoo was the first one taking his baby steps, walking from the tv table towards you who is relaxing on the sofa before recording it to give to heeseung who is out with his friends. then, siah also has her baby steps on the same day as she lets go of your guidance hand when she approaches her kneeling father to hug him—something you both have been training them to do when one of you comes home.

little shrieks came about from the guests as they looked at the birthday twins walking around the house, playing around with the numerous people there as you and heeseung settled to eat the cake before he tended to the house warming and birthday gifts.

the room is filled with people both you and heeseung are thrilled to see. even your school friends you still keep in touch with are still shocked to see you both together. your hand plays with the engagement ring as you hide them, saving the information for it all at the right time as you and your now-fiance still wear your promise ring to wad off any suspicions. a smile lifts your face as you look across the living room, dining room, and kitchen that are opened with each other.

"they grew up so fast, right?"

a voice asks you as you turn to find beomgyu, a sheepish smile on his face.

"yeah. can't believe they can walk now, even if they are still shaky."

beomgyu hums. the evident awkwardness still flows between you, especially after what happened on halloween when you saw heeseung in a new light. but other than that, you could still see how guilt is eating the boy up, especially after he finally gets the girl that he dreamed of.

"i forgive you, beom," you reply with his nickname, "all of it. i just think that if we still think about all that happened, we won't ever move on."

"i know. i didn't realise i was that easy to read," beomgyu leans his head down, eyes focusing on the promise ring on your right hand.

"hey, no matter what. i still see you as a friend. you are my best friend's boyfriend and i would not stop teasing you for it like you both do to me and heeseung." you both chuckles at your answer as you tap him on the chest with your pointer finger. "besides, if txt has 0 fans, that means i am dead."

the party continues as you introduce the rooms of the house to your friends and family members until evening comes, and you wave goodbye to heeseung's and your parents as the last guests that leave after helping out with cleaning the food and some floor decorations. eyes on the twins, who are already drooping to go to sleep. you both wait for each other to end the day by taking a deserving shower before preparing them to sleep, letting heeseung tuck the two himself.

"i think that's that, right?" you replied to his request, hands already tucking the ends of the blankets as you could also feel how sleepy you are.

"there are many more that you have left, but a summary doesn't always have to include everything."

you roll your eyes and reply with, "you and your pedanticness."

heeseung gives you another kiss on the temple as he snuggles closer to you before fully wrapping his arms around you. even with sleepy eyes, you still grabbed onto your phone as you haven't caught up with the last few hours, especially after you posted something on instagram as his comment that actually makes you have to pull him aside to talk about.

"one more look at your post 'cause i think they have caught onto the big news."

"your fault for actually commenting. i was actually thinking of doing a pretty hard launch by just giving them an invitation of the wedding." you guffawed with him as he tucks his shoulders.

"which we still have to plan for and then the honeymoon and such," heeseung mumbles into the crook of your neck as you press open the app.

"one step at the time, love." you lean your head close to him as you show him the post and the comment section that earns laughter for you both, satisfying enough for you two to end the day with.

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