#i can spend nearly half an hour figuring out who to tag

[purpleplaid17]

When people stopped searching and reblogging from show tags so you then had to tag source blogs to try get your edits seen.

When there's so many non-specific source blogs that you now have to tag #user(name) of popular blogs you think might've rb'd a set of the show that one time to get your edits seen.

Can people please search show tags again.

And actually reblog edits. Please.

[thepeonysbackup]

Mind!Swapped!Husk, who.....

Pairing: Husk x Fem!Reader

Tags: MDNI, Hazbin Hotel character, sexual experiencs, explicit descriptions, all characters are of age.

Request: Yes/No

Scenarios I may make a fic of if anyone wants it to be real!

Mind!Swapped Husk who groans when he wakes up in your bedding, the confusion of your sweet scent wafting around him before he rolled over in surprise as he hears his own voice scream at the top of its lungs from the next floor up.

Mind!Swapped Husk, who initially didn't care that your mind had been put into his body until he saw you letting Angel and Charlie scratch his ears, letting them tug his tail and call him cute.

Mind!Swapped Husk, who folds his hands over his chest and becomes annoyed by how your breast are in the way, squished upward as if he's trying to gain attention when he tells them to stop before they figured out what was going on.

Mind!Swapped Husk, who refuses to change clothes at first until you scold him for hygienic purposes, poking his own claw at your chest before forcing him to go to your room.

Mind!Swapped Husk, who's body is sensitive to the touch, who writhes in place when he tries to sit down comfortably, who tears your skirt so he can spread his legs comfortably. Who lays in his bed and allows his hands to wander across the frail skin of your bosom, wincing as the touch makes him jolt everytime in pleasure.

Mind!Swapped Husk, who gives in when you offer to clean him up, who nervously steps into your bathroom and covers the mirror with a blanket so he can get your body undressed. Who tells you to turn around even though it's your body.

Mind!Swapped Husk, who blushes like a school girl when you usher him into the shower, who smacks you as a woman would if they were being peeped at, who presses himself against the shower wall nervously as you enter, his body's wings fluttering as you turn on the water.

Mind!Swapped Husk, who covers your body from his own gaze, staring at the wall while you used your bright pink loaf to take care of yourself, babbling away about how he'd kept you in such pristine condition.

Mind!Swapped Husk, who gets pinned to the wall by his own body, his fur sticking to his feminine flesh as he allowed your voice to leave yourself, who basked in the blissful feeling of his body's barbed cock scraping his new body's inner walls at a hectic pace.

Mind!Swapped Husk, who begs for more, who babbles like a whore needily while slamming back into himself, you're happy to oblige as you tweak your nipple in his clawed hand, the others grip tight as ever on you hip as the wet sounds echoed off the walls.

Mind!Swapped Husk, who forces the both of you to experience that bliss nightly from now on until the two of you would change back. Who begged needily for you to let him into your room after that first and most wonderful interaction, who nearly broke your door as he pinned himself down.

Mind!Swapped Husk, who wakes up beside you, eyes flickering from your body and back to his own to see that both of you were back to normal. Who leans over your still sleeping figure to stir you awake and take you once again.

Mind!Swapped Husk, who buries his cock to the hilt into your half asleep figure, who draws a shriek of desire from you before properly thanking you with his kiss for your wonderful care, who spends hours inside your sloppy cunt to make sure you know he's grateful. Who breaks your mind as you did his as payback.

[justmystyles]

Now You're In My Life - Part 4

catch up here

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

word count: 4.4k

summary: a chance meeting at a diner turns your world upside-down.

warnings: some curse words, but other than that it's tame.

a/n: i definitely planned to cover all of Harryween weekend in this part, but my brain had other plans. this gets a little angsty at the end, you've been warned.

*i say it's a plus size reader, while i don't focus a lot on that aspect (because your size should not define you), it will come up, so i just wanted to be upfront about it.

tags (thank you forever, from the bottom of my icy cold heart to anyone who has asked to be tagged, or interacted/read this story at all. it means the absolute world to me.): @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @cute-as-ducks420 @gem1712 @golden-hoax @groovychaosavenue @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @n0vaj3an @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @youknowwhaaat

You trudge through the hallway of your hotel, eyes scanning the walls to find your room number. You had worked all day, and then immediately jumped on a train for the nearly four hour ride to New York so that you could spend the weekend with Harry. You were looking forward to tomorrow, but at this moment you couldn’t want anything more than a shower and some sleep. 

You sigh once you reach your door, scanning the card against the lock and pushing it open. You pause in front of the closet, hanging the garment back that contains your costume for tomorrow. The second is tucked away safely in your suitcase, which you throw on the floor. Kicking your shoes off as you move further into the room, you instantly notice a large vase with flowers on the desk, an envelope with your name on it leaning against it. 

You smile to yourself, already knowing it’s from Harry. Despite your exhaustion, you feel a sudden surge of energy come over you as you rush to the table. You drop your purse and room key on a nearby chair and pick up the envelope, removing the note that was also paired with an all access lanyard for tomorrow. 

I figured you probably didn’t bring my last flowers with you, so I needed to get you some for your room. Be at the venue at noon tomorrow. Dress comfortably and don’t forget to bring your costume! 

-H

You pull your phone out of your pocket, placing a FaceTime call to Harry. 

“You’ve made it!” He greets you with that same smile he always greets you with. You can even hear it during your calls. 

“Ugh… barely.” You sigh. 

His brow wrinkled in concern. “Are you alright? Do you want me to come to your hotel?” 

“No no no, you don’t have to. I’m okay, it’s just been a long day. All I need is a hot shower and a comfy bed and I’ll be ready for tomorrow.” Your heart swelled at his concern. 

“Alright, but it’s really hard for me, knowing how close you actually are and not being able to come to you.” 

“Pfft,” you scoff. “You’re going to be so sick of me after this weekend!”

“Never.” His tone is serious, but there is a sparkle in his eye that gives you butterflies. “Alright, I don’t want to hold you up. The sooner you get to bed, the sooner I get to see you.” 

“Wait!” You stop him. “I actually called to thank you for the flowers.” 

“Oh, right. Let me see them.” He commanded gently. You flip the camera angle, displaying the elaborate arrangement. “Nope, this one didn’t get it either. Not even half as beautiful as you.” 

“Harry…” You groan as you swap the camera again. 

“Gotcha,” he grinned, referencing the blush on your face. 

You don’t think you’ll ever get used to him telling you you’re beautiful. You’re not sure if it’s because of who he is, or because you can’t see it in yourself. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Harry.” 

“I can’t wait.” 

You end the call and go to your suitcase to grab your pajamas and toiletries before moving into the bathroom for your shower, then going straight to bed and drifting off quickly to sleep.

The next day, you walk down 31st street, dressed in leggings and an oversized hoodie, looking for the backstage door Harry directed you to. You put on some minimal makeup and pulled your hair back into a high ponytail, knowing you would have to take some time to do proper hair and makeup for your costume later. You carry your garment bag in one hand, everything else in a backpack that sits on your shoulders. 

You step up to the guarded door, pulling your pass out of your hoodie pocket to show security. He nods and lets you into the backstage area. You shoot off a quick ‘I’m here’ text to Harry, and take a look at the space around you while you wait. 

When you hear footsteps behind you, you turn to see Harry, he’s wearing a hoodie, gym shorts, and a pair of colorful sneakers. His smile lifts to a full blown grin as he breaks into a sprint, wanting to get to you that much faster. Once he reaches you, he cradles your face in his hands, pulling you to meet his lips in a hungry, almost desperate kiss. He pulls back, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, bringing you as close to his body as possible, placing a kiss on the top of your head before resting his cheek against it. 

“God, I missed you.” 

You giggle at his dramatics, but internally you’re screaming. You knew he’d be happy to see you, but you never expected anything like this. “Harry, I talk to you all the time.” 

“I know,” he mumbles against your hair. “But I haven’t gotten to hold you,” he gives you a quick squeeze before pulling away so you were looking into each other’s eyes. “Or kiss you.” He leans in, pressing his lips to yours again. This kiss was slower, more purposeful. “I really like kissing you.” He whispers against your lips before pressing a series of small pecks on your lips and over your cheeks. 

“I like kissing you too,” you try to say through your laughter. 

He finally extracts himself from you, running his hands down your arms to take your hands in his. “Let’s have a look at you,” he says as he pulls back, looking over you appraisingly. He arches a brow at the logo on your sweatshirt? “What’s with the false advertising?” He nods to the skull and crossbones, with the word ‘Rancid’ plastered across your chest. 

Your eyes flit down to your shirt, you’re so consumed in Harry’s greeting that you forgot what you were wearing. “Oh, it’s a band! They’re one of my favorites.” 

Harry gasps, stepping back and placing a hand over this chest dramatically. “I can’t believe you’d do this to me!” You give him a confused look. “You would wear another artist’s merch to my show?” He shakes his head, making a disapproving clicking sound with his tongue. 

You make a mental note at his reaction. One of the things you’ve learned in the short time you’ve been talking to Harry is that he’s fun to tease, he sees your sarcasm and gives it right back to you, sometimes tenfold. This was something you were going to have fun with for a while. 

“So you don’t think I look cute?” You pout, looking up at him with big doe eyes, batting your lashes rapidly. 

“Oh no darling, you look incredible,” he tugs on one hand, guiding you into a spin. You happily comply. “But I don’t know how I feel about sharing you with other musicians.” 

You roll your eyes, but before you can craft your comeback, he takes your garment bag from your hands, and nods toward your backpack, signaling for you to take it off. You do, and he hoists it over one shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you all settled. I’ve got sound check shortly and I want you there.” He places his free hand on the small of your back and leads you further into the backstage area. 

He takes you straight to his dressing room, putting your bags away among his things. “You’ll get ready here with me tonight.” 

“Why Mister Styles,” you gasp, clutching your imaginary pearls. “Getting dressed in the same room? How forward of you!” 

Harry laughs as he stalks towards you with a menacing look on his face. “It’s been my plan all along.” He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you to him again, peppering your face and neck with kisses. 

You maintain a stoic expression despite the attack. “If you wanted to get me out of my clothes, you could have just said so.” 

Your words stop him in his tracks. He steps back, staring at you with wide eyes. “Really?” 

“Of course not!” You scoff. “What kind of girl do you take me for?” 

Harry laughs and shakes off his surprise. “Cheeky as ever.” You hear him mutter under his breath. 

After getting you settled, Harry brings you out to the floor to see the stage and meet the band, as well as a few other tour regulars and friends of his. As the two of you approached the group, hand in hand, you saw them all turn and look at you. It instantly made you nervous.

Would they like you?

Did they think you were some fangirl trying to get something from Harry? 

Harry could sense your nerves and gave your hand a gentle squeeze. You turned to look at him, and he gave you a reassuring nod. You took a deep breath as you reached them and Harry began the introductions. 

Luckily, everyone was so kind, even excited to meet you. Apparently, Harry had been talking about you practically non stop since you met. Finding that out made your face turn bright red, causing Harry to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you into his side, kissing you on your crimson cheek. 

You all shared in a brief chat, getting to know everyone, and learning names you promised them you’d forget almost instantly, but would try so hard to learn and would get eventually. If Harry kept you around long enough. 

… but you didn’t say that last part out loud. 

Eventually, they needed to start their soundcheck, Harry had you take a seat on the drum riser while he made his way to the microphone. He moved across the stage with ease, making sure everything was working as you watched on with rapt attention. Occasionally, he would come up to you, kneeling in front of you, serenading you. Harry had been pretty good at getting you flustered since the morning you met, but here? With him singing love songs within inches of your face? You wished the world would just end then and there, you didn’t know how things could get any better that moment. 

After soundcheck, everyone made their way to craft services for a quick meal before getting ready for the show. They were all excited about their costumes, but wouldn’t tell you what they were. Harry made you promise that you would surprise each other with your costumes, so he swore the band to secrecy. 

Noticing the time, and knowing that you had a lot of work to do to get yourself ready, you excused yourself to head back to Harry’s dressing room. He offered to join you, but you insisted he stay, you would just be doing boring hair and make up anyway. 

After about 40 minutes, you had finally gotten your hair set in your curlers, and were nearly done with your makeup. As you apply your lashes as there was a soft knock at the door. You told them to enter, and Harry poked his head in, his hands covering his eyes.

“Is everyone descent in here?” He asked in a sing-song voice. 

“Yes,” you giggled. 

Harry moved his hand away and immediately pouted. “Oh damn. Better luck next time.” 

You shake your head, throwing a makeup brush at him, which he caught with ease. Your eyes widened in surprise, and he bowed dramatically. You turned back to the mirror and applied your red lipstick. 

“Hmm…” Harry looked you up and down, sticking his fingers through the hole in one of the rollers. “It’s certainly an interesting look.” 

“I’m not done yet,” you swatted his hands away. “I’ve gotta get my costume on, and then I’m going to take these out.” 

“I see, I see.” He backed away, meeting your eyes with a mischievous smirk. “Do you have to get dressed right now? Or do you have a minute to help me with something?” 

“I can help you, what do you need?” 

“I need you to make me pretty, Y/N.” 

“You… what?” You ask, confused by the question. Harry was already the most gorgeous human you had ever laid your eyes on, he definitely didn’t need your help looking any better. 

“Well, I’m not telling you what my costume is, we promised to be surprised…”

“You mean you forced me to be surprised,” you interrupt him sarcastically. 

He rolls his eyes and brings his finger to his lips, shushing you. “I need to wear makeup with my costume. Will you do it for me? You’re clearly quite good.” He gestures to your full face of makeup. 

“Oh,” you’re a little surprised by the request, but you know that even after only a couple of days, you would do anything for this man. “Yeah, I can do that for you.” 

You switch spots, putting Harry in the chair by the mirror as you go through your makeup case to pull out a few items that you think will be useful. You ask him what he’s envisioning for his look, and he asks for some basics. A bright pink blush, a few coats of mascara, and a lipstick a few shades lighter than yours. 

You lift your left hand to Harry’s cheek, holding his face steady so you can apply his mascara, you watch as his eyes shift, and his eyebrow arch. “Well well well, what do we have here?” He reaches up and takes your hand, admiring the words scribed across your wrist. “You have piercings and tattoos? Such a little rebel.” He joked. 

“One piercing, one tattoo.” You correct him, your gaze dropping to your wrist as you eye the artwork fondly. “It’s my grandmother’s signature. I got it after she passed a couple of years ago.” You run your right index finger over it softly. 

“You two were close?” Harry asked.

“Very,” you reply. 

Harry sees you getting emotional, so he flips the conversation, telling you about the tattoos he has in tribute to his family and you return to applying his makeup. He is determined to learn everything about you, he wants you to have those vulnerable moments with him, but this isn’t the right time or place for that. 

“What do you think?” You ask a few minutes later as you step away from Harry, allowing him the chance to see himself for the first time. 

He steps up to the mirror, examining his face. “It’s perfect. Thank you, darling.” He reaches over to hug you, but the curlers act as a barrier preventing him from pulling you too close. “Okay, do you think it’s time to take these out now? They’re in my way.” 

You chuckle and back away, grabbing your garment bag from the rack. “Alright, alright, I’m going.” 

You step in the bathroom, and take a few minutes to change into your costume and finish your hair. As you approach the door, you hear Harry talking to someone. “Are you ready for me?” You ask, making sure you have Harry’s full attention. 

“Always,” he calls in response. 

You open the door, and step out slowly, lifting the skirt of your gown slightly so that you don’t step on it. Harry and Jeff watch you move over the threshold, Jeff’s eyes immediately go to Harry to watch his reaction. His eyes travel from your loose curls and perfectly applied makeup, down to the white collar adorning a royal blue bodice with puffed sleeves, and bright yellow flowing skirt. 

“Wow…” Harry breathed out.

“Is it okay?” You ask cautiously. “I’m Snow White.” You do a quick spin, your skirt flaring out around you.

Harry nodded silently as he stepped closer. The two of you were so focused on each other that you didn’t notice Jeff snapping pictures of your reveal before slipping out of the room to give you two some privacy. He would text them to Harry later. 

Harry placed his hands on your hips, and looked you top to bottom once more.  “You’re absolutely perfect, like some kind of… punk rock princess.” 

His words jolt you, and you step out of his embrace. “What… what did you say?” 

“I… I’m sorry,” he stuttered, taken aback by your reaction. “I meant it as a compliment, you just look so stunning, a perfect princess, but then that little piercing gives you just th–”

“No, no,” you stop him. You weren’t mad, you hated that you made him feel like he had said something wrong. “I just, see that’s the name of a song, I’ve always kind of secretly wished someone would think of me like that.” 

Harry smirks as he watches the emotions swirl in your eyes. “Well then, I guess we just found my nickname for you. Didn’t we, princess?” He steps up to you again, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close, pausing just before your lips touch. “Am I going to mess up your lipstick if I kiss you right now? Because I would like to kiss my punk rock princess.” 

Your breath hitches, but you quickly try to compose yourself. “Mine will be fine, but yours won’t.” 

“Fuck it,” he growls before crashing his lips against yours. His hands sliding up to tangle in your hair. He kisses you until you’re both left breathless. When he pulls away, your eyes remain closed, your foreheads pressed together. 

You stand in silence like that for a moment, your mind racing. You and Harry had kissed quite a bit today, but this one felt different. As if you were both trying to convey some unsaid sentiments. You feel a slight panic come over you when you realize the sentiments on your end. 

You’re falling in love with Harry Styles. 

Before you had a chance to fully process the thought, a knock on the door pulled you out of the moment. 

“H, if you want to do pictures you’ve gotta get moving.”

Harry stepped back, giving you an apologetic smile. “I just need five minutes.” He called in response, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I’ll uh… I’ll go on ahead and let you get changed.” You stumble over your words, starting to move toward the door. You feel Harry’s hand on your wrist almost immediately, stopping you in your tracks.

“Don’t go,” he looks at you with pleading eyes. “Just give me a minute to run into the bathroom to change, we’ll go together. I want us to go together.” 

You nod your head, struggling to speak. “Okay,” you finally manage to choke out. He gives you that grin again, lifting your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it softly. 

Harry grabs his own garment bag and steps into the bathroom while you move to the mirror. You wanted to check your makeup. But more than that, you wanted to scold yourself. 

“What the fuck are you even doing?” You whisper-yell at yourself. “You’ve known this guy for less than a week.”

This guy, you scoff at the thought. This isn’t some random app swipe, this was an international pop superstar. What could he even want with you? You had no idea what this was, you didn’t know what was going on in his head. Truthfully, you didn’t want to, you were afraid to ask, worrying that the truth would come out and that whatever this was would be over. You were here for the weekend, you would go back to your real life on Monday, and he’d fly off to another city, and probably find another girl to kiss. 

“Just have fun, keep it casual. Don’t get attached.” You repeat these words to yourself quietly in the mirror, pushing down your feelings as you adjust your lipstick. Yours stayed put, but the shade you put on Harry was a cheaper brand and had smeared all over your lips. 

“I’m ready!” Harry’s declaration gets your attention. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, reminding yourself to swallow your feelings. 

You turn around, immediately bursting out in laughter as you take Harry in from head to toe. There is a blue gingham bow sitting high on his head, matching perfectly to the dress that came to his mid-thigh, red tights leading down to a pair of blue socks, and finally those iconic sparkling red shoes. 

“Well,” you lean back against the counter, crossing your arms over your chest. “We certainly aren’t in Kansas anymore.” 

“You like?” He asks tentatively, searching for your approval.

You smile and nod your head in approval. “I like.”

“Good, it’s far too late to change it now.” He offers you his hand. “Shall we, princess?” You link your fingers through his and the both of you start to make your way out of the dressing room. “Oh, hold on one second.” He kisses your hand quickly before releasing it and running back into the room. He returns quickly, holding up a basket with a stuffed dog inside. “Okay, now I’m ready.” He takes your hand again and leads you down the hallway. 

After you meet up with everyone, exchange compliments and take a few photos, Harry gives you one last kiss before joining the band for their pre-show rituals. Jeff leads you out to the barricaded area where you will be watching the show. You look around at the different costumes everyone has chosen, some are Harry themed, others are what you’ve deemed ‘cute girl costumes’, you quickly realize the hypocrisy in that statement as you catch a glance of your Disney Princess costume.

Before long, the show begins, and your attention is permanently redirected to the man on stage. The man you are falling in love with. You try to shake the thought away, but you can’t help it. As you watch him, you wonder if he’s feeling even half of what you are. You could swear he’s looking at you more intently during this show than he did in Boston, but you convince yourself that you’re just reading too much into it because that’s what you want to believe. 

He’s just having fun, you’ll be a faded memory in a few weeks. 

Just like with the last show, as Harry is leaving the stage, Jeff leads you back to Harry’s dressing room to wait for him. It’s not long before Harry joins you, greeting you with a wide smile. 

“Huh,” he huffed as he walked in the room.

“What’s wrong?” You question, were you not supposed to meet him in the dressing room? 

“No, nothing,” he mused. “It’s funny, when I got off stage, I clicked my heels three times and said ‘there’s no place like home’, and I ended up here with you.” 

Be cool, it’s casual. He’s just flirty by nature. “Real smooth,” you reply sarcastically, trying to quell the butterflies that had been released at his words. 

“I thought so,” he shrugged as he took a seat beside you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and leaning in close. “How’d I do, princess?” 

“You know you did amazing, you don’t need me to tell you that.” 

“No, I don’t need it. But it’s nice to hear.” He winked. 

“You were amazing, Harry.” You coincide.

“See, that wasn’t hard now, was it?” He asks before leaning in and kissing you softly. When he pulls back, there’s a look of concern on his face. “Are you alright?” 

“What do you mean?” You would never tell him, you don’t think it was even really intentional, but the wall that he had spent all week trying to break through was slowly building back up. It was your way of not getting any more attached than you already were. 

“I don’t know, you just seem a little… distant? Did something happen?”

You shook your head back and forth rapidly. “No, I uh… I guess I’m just tired is all.” 

He didn’t believe you, but he wasn’t going to push it. “Alright. Do you want to go get changed and I’ll take you back to your hotel?” 

“Oh, Harry, you don’t have to do that.” You insist. “It’s only a couple of blocks.”

“I’m not letting you wander around New York by yourself at night.” 

“I’ve done it before, I do it all the time.” 

He couldn’t understand why you were being so stubborn, were you upset with him? “Well you don’t do it when you’re here as my guest.” His voice is a bit more commanding this time. “Go in the bathroom and change, I’ll change out here and then we’ll go.” 

You silently cursed him, you were trying to temper down your feelings for him. Then he goes and talks to you like that? Now not only were you falling in love with him, but you were pretty turned on. You stood and went into the bathroom with a huff. 

“And I’m carrying your bags for you too.” He shouts through the door. 

The ride to your hotel was nearly silent, you watched the city pass through the window as Harry studied you, trying to figure out what was going on. 

“You would tell me if something happened, wouldn’t you?” He asked, breaking the silence. 

‘I fell in love with you, and you’re going to be gone in two days.’ You think to yourself. 

“Of course.” You say to him.

“And if I did or said something to upset you, you would tell me that too, right?” He was pleading with you to open up.

It gave you a moment of pause, wondering if maybe this did mean something to him. “I’m just tired, Harry. I promise.” 

He nodded silently as the car pulled up to the front of your hotel. The doorman stepped up quickly to open the door for you. 

You turn to him, forcing a smile. “Goodnight, Harry.”

“I can walk you up,” he said, knowing you were going to say no. 

“That’s okay, you need to get some rest. You have another show tomorrow.” You insist. 

He nods, respecting your decision. “Do I at least get a kiss?” He tries to sound playful, but you can hear the disappointment in his tone. 

You smile softly and nod before leaning in and pressing your lips to his. His hand instantly moves to cradle the back of your head, deepening the kiss. After a few blissful moments, he releases you. 

“Sleep well, princess.” He whispers, still close enough for you to feel his breath brush against your lips. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” You reply. 

His lips curve up into a smirk. “I can’t wait.” 

[clatoera]

Always Remember We’re Burned for Better Chapter 14: Who You Are Is Not What You Did

Welcome back my friends! Not much to say this week, other than aren’t you proud of me for updating in seven days! Thats a big deal for me (who slipped into 10-14 day updates). 

AO3

Masterpost

Title from Innocent (Taylor’s Version)

Here. Have some Glim Glam. And Cato. With a gun. 

I feel like I shouldn’t even tag the besties this week because this chapter is so fucking random but. I guess I will. @ohhowwehavefallen cato with a gun is for you and you alone. @kentwells look i tagged the right blog this time. 

Time does not pass in District Thirteen. Well, of course it does but at the same time it does not. Monotony and Isolation do not make for the easy passage of time, when minutes blend to days blend to weeks. Glimmer isn’t even sure if it’s been weeks or if it’s been months. The only confirmation of passage of time is when she catches her reflection in a window, on the way to various mandatory (Mandatory for most, unless you are Cato who refuses and throws a punch at the first possible opportunity when someone attempts to grab him and force him) gathers. She can catch the roots of her hair, imperceptible to some, but to her she can see the shimmering platinum dyed tones in her hair growing out to the more natural golden tone. It wasn’t much but as a girl who grew up with the priority on her appearance– she could recognize it as at least four weeks since their initial capture.

This is what the world has come to. Calculating weeks of isolation based on the roots of platinum blonde hair.

That’s okay. He had always liked her golder hair better–

No, Glimmer, don’t think of him. You can’t live for the people who aren’t here.

She’s got her legs tucked under her again, criss crossed with her right foot atop her left knee, as she’s bent nearly entirely in half with a piece of thread and an old, blunted sewing needle in the other.  She stitches together her sheets, with an invisible seam she runs down the length of them.

“Are you trying to make a sleeping bag over there, Glim Glam.” Comes grumbling from her room (cell?) mate, the one the only Cato Hadley, who is quite literally doing nothing but laying on his back and staring into the gray abyss of the ceiling. “You need that comfort of feeling like you’re in the arena to be able to sleep?”

“You’re one to talk about sleeping, Cato.” Glimmer murmurs to herself, having been kept up by the constant thrashing, tossing, and turning, of the man throughout the duration of the night. If she had to guess he’s probably getting two, three interrupted hours a night. Ask how she would know.  “No. I need something to do, I’m just..practicing making a dress.”

Cato props himself up at that, craning his neck to look over at her across the dull room. “They gave you a needle? They won’t even give me a fork.” A knife, of course, is so far out of the question it isn’t even funny. It makes sense, of course, and neither of them had been given the privilege of more than a spoon at mealtimes. “Aren’t they afraid you’ll stab someone’s eyes out?”

“I guess they figure the worst thing I would do is stab my own eyes. Or, you . Which, who here would really complain about that?” Her fingers slide the thread through the low-quality cotton, bringing the makeshift hem to a proper, even line. “I can’t have a fork either, by the way. Seems stupid, doesn’t it? You kill people with your bare fucking hands.. like you need a weapon to do damage. “

“It doesn't seem to take much to be in charge here.” Cato remarked, before he lays back down on his flimsy mattress, which has to have an imprint of him by now due to how much time he spends laying there, lifeless on the mattress. “What do you mean you’re making a dress? Since when do you..sew?”

Glimmer nods, pulling the needle from where she holds it in her lips. “It would’ve been my talent. Dresses. You know, before they decided my talent was just my body.” She flips her wrist over, forming an elaborate loop on the bottom edge of the sheet in her hand. “Then, of course, Firegirl got to claim it. As if she even thought about those designs she was passing off on her own.” It was as if her eye roll was audible in her voice, from the way she heard Cato laugh over it. “I wanted to make pretty dresses. Wedding dresses..tour dresses for victors…like the ones Clove was wearing on her tour. That green dress she was in when you came to one–wow.”

“....that was my favorite one, too.” He admits, and the soft tone in his voice tells Glimmer he’s remembering it now, the ivy embroidery that had covered her skin. “The only thing Clove and I can stitch is each other. I guess that was our talent, too.”

“What would you have picked, if you had gotten to?” She continues, flipping her fabric over to reveal a fairly functional looking skirt. Immediately she rips out the seams so that she can start over with her fabric. She begins again, threading the dull needle with thread, before repeating her exact lace as before.

“No idea. I..honestly never gave much thought to life after the games, Glimmer. I just planned to be a trainer. Be with Clove. I dunno, have a couple of kids, I never gave much thought to what I'd do to entertain the masses.” Cato brings his hands behind his head, propping his head in the palms. This is all he does anymore, it feels like. Fidgets into new positions, slowly slipping closer to the edge of madness in this bare room, not knowing the fate of anyone he loves, not knowing the fate of the world. “Clove..hers would’ve been cooking. God she was so good at it.”

“Is. She is good at it.” Glimmer corrects gently, having forced herself only to speak in the positives, to cling to any semblance of hope that they are still alive out there. “I never understood the big deal with food.”

“You’ve never had hers, god Clove made the BEST breakfast, and she’d make this sauce for steak that was just so fucking good. She was just good at everything she ever did.” Cato nearly smiles, just barely, when he talks of her, when the memories of early mornings before her training slipped into his mind. “After the games, damn, we had the best time trying new things. She had this fascination with avocados, we never even had those before I won, and I accidentally bought a whole like..crate of them. One avocado seemed so small, I thought they were like a grape, I don’t know. She liked them a lot, though.”

“I wasn’t allowed to do all of that.” Glimmer explains, setting her pile of sheets and thread by the foot of her bed before leaning back herself, joining him in his staring at the ceiling. “I’ve been on strict, strict, strict diets honestly…my whole life. It seems funny, you know, that people in the lower districts don’t have enough to eat, but I just…wasn’t allowed to. Have to maintain the Capitol’s favorite product, you know?”

“Yeah, well, you still don’t eat anything.”

“Yeah, that’s on purpose, Cato.”

He snorts.  “Is that your grand plan? Starve yourself to death? I expected better from you, Glim Glam.”

“They can’t force me to stay alive.” She retorts, though she knew if they really cared to they would. Afterall, they do it to Katniss. Not that they’d care about her, a problematic career girl.

“Sure they can. They do it to us all.”

“I don’t want to hear it from you, Cato. You lay in that bed all fucking day, and sleep maybe two hours at night. You’re going to kill yourself by sheer fucking exhaustion.”

“What else am I supposed to do? Go play friends with Katniss? Have lunch with Finnick? Is that what you do? I don’t really want to live in a world without her, either, Glimmer, but at least I'm not actively starving myself out.“

Glimmer curls into herself, at that. This infighting, this bickering, it was not going to get them anywhere. They were each other’s only allies, now, and this was getting them nowhere. These childlike arguments did not serve them.

“....it’s hard to live for the idea of someone coming back, you know? When we have no proof that they’re alive. It’s not like I really want to live in a world after this, Cato, if he isn’t here.”

“And you think I want to go back to Two without her, Glimmer? Fuck no. But I’m not actively trying to slowly die while waiting for her. You’re the one who keeps telling me to talk about her in the present, but you’re the one actively trying to just..give up. I’m not telling you to live for him, but yeah, I am.”  Cato pulls himself to a seated position, facing her bed directly. He wants to be angry, he wants to be livid at her, but she just looks so..small? Pathetic? Hopeless? “If that is all we have we have to hold on to it.”

“She’ll kill you if you die before she gets back.” Glimmer half teases, though any playful edge is gone from her voice. It wasn’t like this was unusual. She slipped into a semi catatonic state once a week, it felt like. They managed to alternate days– who went off the deep end which day changed as quickly as the weather.

“Then how about we don’t die before they get back.” He gently teased in response, watching Glimmer roll onto her side, facing away from him.

If he had it in him, he’d comment on the way her shoulders are shaking softly, a tell tale sign she’s resigned to crying to herself again. It wasn’t uncommon, necessarily, he just didn’t have it in him to fight this time, to try to reassure her when he could not even reassure himself.

“When this is all over, when we’re back home.. You’ll have to let Clove change your mind about food.” He offers as a verbal truce, before laying back down on his own side. “I can’t wait to eat anything but the same dry, flavorless chicken over and over and over. They fed us better in the academy, and even that was fucking awful.”

Glimmer sniffles, wiping her tears out of her eyes, trying to catch her breath before she lets herself respond. “I’d like that. So would Marvel. He loves all things food.” She kicks the sheets up over her feet, turning her once makeshift dress back into the sheets that they are.  “He’s so funny, you know, everyone thought that would be his talent. And yeah, trust me, he could make anyone laugh but he’s good at so many other things! He used to make me these beautiful flower arrangements and he was so good at writing and you’d never know but he hates blood outside the games– he was a lot more than just funny, that's all.”

“....is. Glimmer. He is.”

-

A fingertip’s worth of roots have grown out of her hair by the time she can stomach talking to Finnick Odair.

He’s stored behind a door just like hers, only alone. For a second she wonders why Cato and Finnick were not boarded together, when she remembers that they'd probably rather she and Cato both be dead by this point anyway. They probably hoped they’d off each other before this point.

“You look terrible.” Is the very first thing she says to him following her attempt on his life a month prior. “So much for the prize of the Capitol.”

“I could say the same about you. I’ve never seen you without the fresh highlights.” He offers in response, though he does not even look up from his hands. She realizes almost immediately what he is doing, when his fingers twist over and over into each other.

“You gonna hang yourself with one of those?” Glimmer invites herself in, perching herself at the foot of his bed. “Seems like a waste of fabric.”

“It’s all my fault.” Finnick whispers, and for the first time Glimmer realizes he is rocking back and forth almost imperceivable. Well, imperceivable to someone who hasn’t spent hours and hours of their lives sharing traumatic experiences. “It’s my fault they got her.”

“Who? Annie? No, Finnick..they woulda got her anyway. It’s not your fault.” Now is it his fault the four of the careers had split up, not knowing what was coming? Yes.

“It is. They got her. If I had never said her name–”

“It wouldn’t have mattered. They would have gone after her, anyway, Finnick. She wasn’t going to be safe.” Her heart cried for the sweet girl. She wasn’t mad, no, not at all. Who amongst them hadn’t experienced severe trauma in the arena.

“I wanted to tell you.” Finnick croaks out, lacing his fingers together faster and faster, tying knots at record speed. “They told me one and two..you guys couldn’t be trusted. I wanted to tell you.” There's a shameful quality to his voice, as if he genuinely did feel terrible for not telling her sooner, as if he did in fact regret not inviting her into this secret alliance.

“After all we had gone through..you still believed I couldn’t be trusted?” Glimmer half whispers, reaching out to take the other end of the fabric, where she simply chose to braid it instead. “You were there the worst days of my life. You were there with me through all of it. You taught me about the meds to knock myself out, you warned me about–”

“I know. And I’m sorry, Glimmer. I am. It was bigger than me, but I'm sorry.” He can’t look up at her, cannot see the agony behind her eyes, the loss of joy that has been building for seven years finally coming to a head. “It’s my fault they’re there, I know.”

“It is. But you can’t change it now. I want to hate you, Finnick. I want to hate you, but then I remember being seventeen and terrified and in pain and you being the only one who could sit with me while I cried in the shower. I want to hate you but you were the one who carried me home after those terrible procedures, every time I cried because I thought I was bleeding to death, Finnick... I want to hate you but it’s hard to hate you when you look so pathetic.” Glimmer takes the risk, reaching her hand out to place it on top of Finnick’s. “How can I hate you, after we ended up in the same terrible sinking boat again.”

“I am sorry.” He repeats, and Glimmer starts to wonder if this is the broken record he’s been giving to everyone in thirteen recently. “I’m sorry to them, too.”

“You weren’t the one who left them behind.”  Glimmer concedes, dropping the other end of his fabric knot contraption. “You know, I’m impressed, Katniss is still putting up that little show for Peeta. Guess she’s a better actress than I remembered.”

“It’s not all an act, Glimmer. You weren’t there, you should have seen how she acted when that video of Peeta came on.”

Right. Peeta Mellark and his pro-capitol propaganda video. How could she forget? They had been in isolation, as usual, when it was aired. All they knew is they could hear the screaming from their locked unit. Whatever he had said had upset the masses, and had brought Katniss Everdeen to the proverbial edge.

“You shouldn’t hate her so much, Glimmer. She made the deal to pardon Clove and Marvel, too.”

Right, how could she forget. Part of her terms and conditions had involved the pardon of all living victors, which, if she didn’t hate her so much, she might actually thank her for.  Of course, this hell hole and this government would see them as a threat. It was probably the same reason her and Cato were even still alive– the Mockingjay conditions.

“She does everything for her sister, you know? It was all for her. But it’s about Peeta now too. I didn’t believe it either.” Finnick admitted, finally locking green eyes with her own. “You should have seen her when his heart stopped–”

“His heart stopped??”

“During the games. I brought him back, she never would’ve held it together without him.”

Glimmer thinks for a moment, back to the arena, that first night when there had been a dying scream and no following canon– “The first night, right?”

Finnick nods, flexing and squeezing his hands together to uncramp them after the intricate knot tying exercise. “She reacted..honestly like I would have. Or you would have. Or Clove would have.”

She scoffs, raising a single eyebrow in pure disbelief. “You think she likes him?”

“I think she loves him. She’s just as bad as we are, Glim.” Finnick admits, running a hand through his greasy, unshowered hair. The curls fall more as waves at this point, lacking the care and upkeep of even a basic shower. “She’s been sedated as often as Cato has.”

For a split second, Glimmer feels almost bad. She pouts, bottom lip out, as she thinks of all the jabs she’s sent Katniss’s way. It never looked real.

“well..I don’t believe for a second that she’s pregnant. I would- well, I think we’d all know, considering she’d have to be what? Like..four? Five? Months pregnant by now, there's no way–”

“I’ll give you that one, Glimmer.”

-

“You look absolutely ridiculous.” Glimmer reminds him freely, hands sitting in her own lap as she watches him across from her, a thin plastic spoon bending and snapping as he tries to shove it through the thin chicken breast with no avail.

“You try to cut this dry shit with a spoon, it would be easier if the chicken was still alive.” Cato rips a piece off, tossing it at the face of the blonde girl across from him. “Eat.”

“If you’re complaining about it, I'm not sure it’s worth the waste of calories.”

“Shut your stupid mouth and eat.”

Glimmer rips a piece of a bread roll off to throw back at him, hitting him straight in the forehead, but does relent and rips a tiny piece off to nibble on herself. “I bet this is what it was like to live in District 12.”

They’re isolated in a different way, now. Sure, they’re with the overall population of District Thirteen, but the two of them sit at a corner cafeteria style table, with noone within four or five tables from them. It’s like they had the capitol loyalist plague, and no one wanted to catch it. The murmurs of murderer, child killers, psychopaths didn’t bother them much, though sometimes Glimmer just wanted to scream back at them.

 We were children too. We wanted to live, too.

Whatever. At least they don’t have to play nice.

At least, until right now.

Beetee– who recovered from both their attack on their arrival– wheeled himself over to their table, not bothering to bother with niceties.

“Would you two follow me?”

“We’re a bit busy enjoying this gourmet, five star meal, maybe we’ll try again later–” Cato argues, intensely focusing on the garbage food before him. He tightens his grip on his fork, and Glimmer can tell he’s debating how to turn it into a weapon. Or rather, if he should.

“No. I believe you will be very happy to follow along.” Beetee urges again, nodding his head towards the door.

Glimmer and Cato lock eyes, distinctly debating if this was worth the possible trap. Sure, Beetee is not a risk to either of them, but there was no reason he wouldn’t be in on a reason to get rid of them, either.

Glimmer pushes herself up first, and Cato follows. It’s funny, for someone who declared himself the de facto leader of their career pack in the arena, he often seemed to wait for her cue, too. Maybe he finally saw her as an equal threat.

All it took was a few attempts at murder  to bring two people together.

They follow Beetee silently, through elevators and the deep depths of District Thirteen they had not visited before. Hell, they didn't even know it went this deep down into the Earth.

He leads them to a heavily armored door that he can only access through a scan of his eye.

“I had to fight to get you two privileges down here.” Beetee begins, as two heavy metal doors begin to part down the middle, giving way to a heavily armored room, both in terms of the heavy metal surrounding the room but also in terms of arms.

Weapons. They brought them to the weapons.

“Holy shit.” Cato grins, actually grins, for the first time since their capture and separation back in the arena. “You have to be an idiot to bring us here.”

LIke a kid in a candy store, truly, Cato half runs forward. He runs his hand over the array of shining metal weapons, sliding his finger over the sharp metal edges of hunting knives.

“Well. Katniss and the others are on a special mission. District Eight, trying to gather some footage. If all the other victors have access, you should as well. You can’t hurt anyone from inside here.”

“How the hell did you get them to agree to this?” Glimmer smiles, picking up the spare bow, weighing it in her hands. It was most certainly meant for Katniss, not her, but she couldn’t bring herself to mind.

“Think of it as enrichment time. If they think you two are useful to the cause– you may have some advantages on your side.” Beetee was no fool. Neither Glimmer nor Cato were going to support this cause, but at least they could be less of a danger if they were entertained.

Cato picks up a trident, clearly meant for Finnick, and twirls it between his nimble fingers. “ Don’t tell me you’re going to send Finnick into an active war zone with a trident. What moron goes into a literal battle with a Trident.”

The games were one thing. They were all trained in some sort of short ranged, low impact weapon. This, though, was different. This was war.

“Finnick and Katniss are…more for show.” Beetee admits, noting how Glimmer has discarded the bow in exchange for some of the other knives at their disposal. “It’s impactful, to display them with the weapons they were known for. It helps to bridge a gap. Besides, Katniss is very comfortable and proficient with a bow.”

“That’s suicide, to send them into actual war with those, you know that.” Glimmer mumbles, shaking her head in disapproval. “Bringing a knife to a gunfight. But somehow worse, when she is the actual symbol of your war.”

“Our goal is to never let her experience actual danger..”

“You don’t have Peeta. She’ll put herself in danger to get him back.” Glimmer counters, ignoring the perplexed eyebrow raise of Cato. Right. She hadn’t shared Finnick’s revelations a few weeks ago with him. Note to self, then. “I can’t believe we got access to the victor playground. We’re on suicide watch at breakfast.”

“Well..I assumed this would be a nice distraction, and you will keep access so long as you don’t go for the–”

A literal shot echoes through the metal room, and Glimmer and Beetee both whip their heads behind them.

Cato stands there, smoke coming from the actual gun he holds in the palm of his hand. “I’m not going into any fucking war, but I want one of these.”  He fires off a few more shots, that one after the other, hit the center of the distant target dummy. He’s aimed at one of those many times in his life–usually with a sword or occasional spear– but this..this was pure power held in his hands.

“Guns. I didn’t want you to go for the guns.” Beetee sighs, as Glimmer practically jumps over him to get to Cato. “Just don’t kill any of us.”

Glimmer holds out her hands excitedly, grabbing towards him. “Gimme, I wanna try.”

“Get your own.” He nods to the table behind me, where another similar handgun remains. “I don’t get why they never let us use these…”

“Oh please, we’d have ended the games in an hour flat.” She teases, twirling the metal in her hands and bringing her arms out before her.

Like Cato, she hits the dead center of the dummy, over and over and over, each shot as precise as the last.

“Not bad, blondie.” Cato compliments, giving her an affirming nod of her head. “I guess all that training carries over across weapons, huh?”

“You’re blonde too, idiot.” Glimmer rolls her eyes, firing off a few more shots before the clip runs out. “Beetee, I need more!”

“On the table.” The older man sighs, watching in contentment  as the two most unhinged members of the rebellion fire off countless accurate, precise shots.

They learn, fast, how to reload the clip without missing a single beat, firing off hundreds and hundreds of rounds of lead into the dummies around the room.

They never miss.

“Clove will love this.” Cato decides, for the first time genuinely speaking positively about the future without prompt. “I can’t wait to show her.”

“Do you think we could go after them?” Glimmer whispers for Cato alone, eyes flicking between the targets. They were incredibly accurate– but they’d need access to the weapons and transportation. There were logistics involved that they may not be capable of.

“...we could try–” Cato offers, before shaking his head. “It might be suicide.”

She understands, and gives a short nod of her head. It was probably a no. But the idea, well, it was there and shared between them.

“Beetee!” Glimmer calls, twisting blonde hair over her finger with a little coy look on her face, offering an abrupt change to the topic of conversation. “I am not going into this war, but if I had to, can you get me a pink one?”

Cato snorts, going back to his roots and picking up a long, serrated hunting knife. “Just what everyone wants to see, you take out President Snow with a pink, shiny little gun. Will you be fighting Miss Mockingbird on fire for that honor?”

Glimmer begins to giggle, then lets out a short, sharp gasp as she realizes what he says. He must realize at the same time, the implication of what he has said, for he looks up with a startled look on his face.

Such a statement is blatant support for the Rebellion. The implications that they would be part of a take down of the Capitol– well that's treason, in itself.

Of note does not try to correct himself, or change the topic. Beetee does not comment, but he does have a small smirk twitch at the corner of his mouth.

Cato gives a half hearted laugh, before he goes back to the array of weapons before them. Glimmer sets down the gun, the implication of holding it still a bit much.

When did they become treasonous little snakes themselves?

[blackberrywars]

I just realised I wasn't following you yet? Which is honestly a crime. For your Witcher ficlets, I'd love to see some grandpa Vesemir bonding time with Ciri as a child. Just a lot of fluff, preferably modern where Vesemir gets to spend an afternoon alone with her

Hi hello sorry for the delay and thank you for this prompt!! It's very cute, and the fluff was a nice treat.

Title: Grampa's House

Rating: G Words: 1,945 Relationships: Vesemir & Ciri, Background Vesemir/Guxart, Background Yennefer/Geralt Additional Tags: Family Bonding, Fluff, Young Ciri, Grandparents & Grandchildren, The Magic of Your Grandparents' House

Summary: Vesemir struggles to figure out what to do while watching his five year-old granddaughter for the weekend because he’s an old-ass man with old-ass man hobbies, like bird-watching, whittling, gardening, and making coffee on the stove because who needs a fancy machine anyway? Turns out, she’s happy to do all those things with her grampa.

AO3 LINK

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When his idiot son drops his squealing granddaughter onto his porch, not even Yennefer can hide a sheepish grin. “Business trip,” his bony ass. He can smell a swinger’s party from here. Still, their hesitation doesn’t stop Ciri from running toward him and wrapping her skinny, freckled arms around his thighs.

“GRAMPA!!”

She hits him with the force of a gale wind, and Vesemir can’t help but run a hand through her hair. Whiter than his, but not quite so pale as Geralt’s. Before that thought overwhelms him, he takes both a deep breath and her little, inexplicably sticky hand. She proudly shows him her missing incisor as she yells hello, and she’s so much bigger now, but even still, the straps of her tiny backpack barely fit over his elbow. Her wolf plush toy has a dark stain that might just explain the state of her fingers, but he holds them anyway for the goodbye kisses and hugs. Yennefer gives him a less-stiff hug than usual, and Geralt shoots him a wry smile over her shoulder, nodding in what he probably thinks is encouragement. Vesemir just shakes his head. The pair of them slide back into the ever-beloved shitbox, Roach. Which leaves him with a five year-old granddaughter.

He’s raised several boys over the years in the Wolfe home, all of them hellions in their own special ways. Half of his grey hairs have nothing to do with his age.

That was nearly twenty years and two knee surgeries ago.

Guxart had told him in the morning that he’d do just fine, but that was just before the bastard had blown him a kiss from the driveway and sped off, off to his own weekend away. It was right about then that he realized he has no idea what little girls like to do. Ciri has only been with his son for two years, and they’d got along well, but he’s never watched her for more than a few hours. She’d been littler then. What can he offer her, now that he is old and his own boys are grown, most of their favorite toys destroyed, given away, or lost? When he was younger, this might have been easier. He had more energy then, enough to chase and tumble after a tot without fearing his worse knee would give out.

Cleaning her up is probably a good place to start.

That decided, Vesemir finds an old stepstool and guides her onto it, making sure she washes her hands. He takes some dish soap to Mr. Wolf, who is much fluffier, but just about as gray and scruffy as himself. All the while, Ciri tells him about her life.

“At recess, we play Lions and Ant-lopes! I run really fast! I like taking my shoes off, but Mama gets mad when that happens.”

“Oh? And why is that, lass?”

“It gets my socks dirty. An’ stinky. And —kitty!”

She points to the edge of his windowsill, just behind where the dish soap had been, to a tiny wooden cat figurine. The chubby little creature had been yesterday’s work, hidden in its little nook where his partner would never find it, because the bastard hates washing plates more than anything else. Vesemir chuckles.

“Hm? Oh, yes, for Guxart. It needs some work, but it’s almost done now.”

“You made that?” she asks, eyes wide as dinner plates, “How?”

“Well, if you’re interested…… I suppose I can show you.”

“YES!” she balks a bit, smiling sheepishly, “…please?”

Vesemir spends the next two hours answering that please. He gives Ciri a full tour of the garage-turned-woodworking-shed. Explains to her the difference between his chisels —paring, mortise, tang, that fancy one Eskel bought him that he still doesn’t know the name of— and almost starts in on the mallets before he stops, with no small amount of trepidation. The poor lass must be bored to tears. He braves a look down at her face and finds wide blue eyes and pursed lips. One of his larger chisels is polished enough to show her reflection, shining with curiosity. As deftly as he can, he pulls the little cat out of his pocket, holding it out to her.

“As for this little beast… are you listening?” Vesemir tweaks a pale curl, just to hear her giggle (and to distract from the chisels because she probably shouldn’t touch those until she’s at least eight or so), “What he needs is to be sanded down and polished so he’s shiny.”

“Howdja do that?”

“Sandpaper. The grains smooth out the rough bits. Here. Feel it.”

He fans out his collection, arranged from 40 to 180 grit, and lets her pet each one. He doesn’t worry for her soft skin even though she winces at the roughness because she quickly reaches for the next one. She picks out the 120 grit sandpaper —a bit too fine for this, but he allows it— and lets him show her how to gently smooth out the figurine. Her fingers are still small and clumsy, but she dutifully keeps to the direction of the grain, and the cat feels even softer than her little hands once they’re through. She paints it with a sponge brush and his own polish, a mixture of olive oil and lemon juice, gasping as the red bubinga wood reveals all its colorful stripes. Again, it receives pride of place on the windowsill.

“So…” Ciri asks, somehow even more excited than before, “whad’we do now?”

She’d liked his workshop, dusty and turpentine-smelling though it is.

“Hmm. Why don’t we go outside? I have some birdhouses I made there.”

— — — — —

Ciri squeals over the birdhouses, especially the dark purple one that “looks like Mama!” but the real noise comes when the painted bunting couple —unusually late in the season, spirits bless them— pops out of it. The little husband’s rainbow coat is vibrant as always, and while Vesemir scolds Ciri for trying to chase him, he can’t blame her for wanting to pet his colorful feathers. She agrees, thankfully, apologizing to the ruffled pair. Vesemir settles into the rocking chair he made, and once she finishes cooing at the green little wife, Ciri leaves Guxart’s alone in favor of his lap, and they sit to watch the birds until his hips start creaking.

His garden provokes similar wonder. Vesemir points out each plant and all the weeds that had sprung up in between the rows, which she happily plucks. Ciri categorizes his herbs by smell and taste, ranks sage as her favorite, and eats a little bit of dirt as a control group. He nods approvingly, because little immune systems need help, and then offers some dandelion roots instead, since they still have dirt on them and are more nutritionally useful. Maybe tomorrow they can take a walk and he’ll teach her how to forage properly. It’s good knowledge, especially for a tot. If her stomach is anything like the bottomless pit that was Lambert’s, she should know what will be delicious and what could make her sick, spirits forbid.

By the end of the afternoon, his knees are dirty and sore, and he desperately needs a coffee. Sunshine and sweat have tired Ciri out, but she’ll be up again before long, which he’d need more than a little artificial energy to survive. Quickly, he herds Ciri back inside and into the bath with as little contamination as possible. Once his sleeves are soaked to the armpits, he sets her into a chair with two pillows stacked atop it and heads over to his wood stove. The greca is an old, battered thing now, but it still makes his brew as sweet and strong as it did the day Guxart brought it home. As soon as it’s full, he pours himself a mug and turns back to the table.

“Do you want some?”

Ciri wrinkles her nose, “Coffee tastes icky.”

“That is why your abuelo uses lots of milk and sugar.”

He adds both into her sippy cup to fix what Guxart calls a tetero and puts a suspirito on the plate beside it. Then gives her another three because he’s a grandfather, and it’s his job. They eat in mostly-silence, aside from the gummy sound of her chewing the cookies through her first missing tooth, and the clink of his own mug on the table. Ciri finishes her cup with an exaggerated ah! and he can’t help but smile.

“You liked it, lass?”

“Mmhm! I din’t even taste the coffee.”

Which is usually exactly what Vesemir says to Guxart when he’s making fun of him, but it’s hard to argue with this kind of sincerity. Especially not when she tips her mostly empty cup back again, trying to get the last few drops between the gap in her teeth.

“Grampa, can we watch a movie now? Do yours have color in them?”

His knees cheer for joy even as his eyebrows quirk of their own will, which might just prove her point, along with the fact that he barely had any movies at all. Thank the spirits Geralt had given him a DVD along with her overnight bag. He remembers the fat, seal-like creature on the cover.

“Yes, we can watch a movie. How do you feel about Neighbor Toto?”

“Grampa!!” Ciri bursts out laughing, knocking over her sippy cup, “Nooooo, it’s My Neighbor Totoro!”

“My Neighbor Tot-ro, then.”

“Noooooooo! To-to-ro!”

He smiles and takes their dishes to the sink, letting her pester him until he finally says it right. She nods imperiously, and he can’t help but ruffle her white-blonde hair. She’s more or less a quiet presence beside him as he cleans the greca, right until he pulls out his jar of popcorn kernels. Apparently, those are supposed to come in a brown paper bag, and they get cooked in a microwave. Vesemir owns neither.

“Well, lass. This way is more fun —watch, now.”

For once, he’s glad for the new glass lids Guxart bought, since they let Ciri ooh and ahh and the popcorn exploding with butter (and a little bit of brown sugar). It’s easy enough work to herd her onto his admittedly-ancient couch. Less so when he has to remember how to play movies.

“Spirits, how does this damn thing work again?” he grumbles, unsuccessfully starting to put the brick through the slot, and then pivots back to Ciri, with her wide blue eyes and perked up ears, “Don’t repeat that.”

“Why not? Papa says bad words all the time.”

“Yes, well I tried my best with him. You’ll have to be better.”

“Aw damn.”

He barely restrains a laugh, settling for a cough as he retrieves the ever-so-slightly burnt popcorn. The movie is made slightly grainy by the TV he hasn’t changed in twenty years, but it plays nonetheless, and he can understand Ciri’s defense of it. She’s utterly enraptured, practically bouncing in her seat before she settles in beside him. He wonders if he could carve a Totoro before Ciri has to leave. By the time he hears Ciri go quiet beside him, he’s fully planned out the size and polish he’s going to use, but should he paint it? It’s never been his strength, but he should try, at least. A gentle snore interrupts his thoughts, and the weight against his side grows heavier. Ciri is fast asleep against his arm, drooling ever so slightly from the gap in her teeth. He’ll have to wake her for dinner and clean the (yet again) sticky child, but he can let her sleep until the credits roll. He yawns.

She can help him paint the Totoro on her next visit.

——————————————————————————————

Well that was some tooth-rotting fluff, and I enjoyed every second of it. I tried my best to keep the story in line with Vesemir's gruff disposition, but softened for the modern era and prompt. Ciri gets to be baby, and an utterly curious delight.

greca: a stovetop mokapot, popular throughout Latin America abuelo: grandfather tetero: baby bottle/Venezuelan term for coffee made with lots of milk and sugar, usually given to children or used to mock people who drink coffee this way suspirito: a small, bite-sized meringue cookie

Taglist: @karolincki, @hellinglasses, @girls-and-honey, @halehathnofury, @the-butch-of-blaviken, @keirametzbrassknuckles, @t4tlambert, @alllthequeenshorses, @round--robin, @on-a-lucky-tide (if anyone wants to be added/removed, pm me and I'll have it done no problem)

[remapped-soul]

christmaxiel - day 1

Decorating for Christmas

max/daniel, 1327 words, sfw

On the first day of December, Daniel discovers the ornaments. It is an innocent accident. A coincidence, really. He doesn’t mean to get sidetracked, not when he has to finish packing before Max gets home. But as it stands, Daniel is alone in the apartment, and Max is out in the city, on last-minute errands. His suitcase sits on the bed, cracked open and empty. Various clothes are strewn around it, covering the rest of the bed. Sassy sleeps on one of his sweaters. Jimmy has found a nest between his band t-shirts. The only thing that it’s ready to be thrown inside is his toiletries bag.

He sighs loud and suffering. The cats glare at him, disturbed from their slumber, and Daniel doesn’t really blame them. It was his idea to spend half of Max’s winter vacation in Belgium, half of it in Perth. Max went along with it, a shrug of his shoulders, “Whatever you want, love,” followed by a kiss on Daniel’s cheek. Now Daniel has to figure out how to stuff clothes for subzero temperatures and 20+ Celsius degrees in one suitcase. Max’s suitcase sits neat and prim by the side of the bed, finished days ago. Daniel ignores it and the voice in his head that berates him for his atrocious habits sounds strangely like Michael’s.

“What should I do?” Daniel asks the cats. The cats ignore him. He goes looking for a duffel bag, thinking that it should fix the space problem. He finds it stuffed in the back of the closet, among unlabeled cardboard boxes. When he pushes them aside, one of them sings. It’s a strange sound to be heard in the dark recesses of his closet. He shakes it again, for good measure. It sings again.

Daniel looks at the clock. He still has three hours to pack, three hours to clean the mess in his bedroom, three hours to get everything ready in time to leave for the airport. No harm, no foul to take a peek inside the box. Except, it does. Daniel doesn’t expect to find Christmas decorations, all wrapped in their original packaging, tags with prices still attached to them on a flimsy string.

They moved in together during the summer, in a brand new apartment that was neither Daniel’s nor Max’s but that could become theirs. Daniel doesn’t remember Max buying Christmas decorations in the past, so he must have brought them with him, a relic of the old apartment.

Daniel sits down on the floor, pulls the box between his legs. He finds golden tinsel and red snow globes and a thousand fairy lights shaped like snowflakes. Daniel thinks about Max buying these in-between races and winter commitments and never getting to use them. Daniel thinks about goading Max into putting up at least a Christmas tree in his old apartment, and Max always says, “There is no time. I’m always away anyway, who is going to see it?” Daniel thinks about Max growing up without understanding what the Christmas spirit is, that it’s more than flimsy decorations and eggnog drank around the fire.

Daniel thinks about all of that and his heart tugs painfully in his chest. At that moment, the decision is not that hard to make. If he ends up travelling without clothes, Belgium has H&M stores and his mother probably kept his old clothes stored in a box somewhere out of a misplaced sense of nostalgia. He will be fine.

+ + +

The front door opens with a bang, and Max’s voice travels down the hallway, into the living room.

“Did you know that they make more than one type of gin?” he asks as he takes off his coat, his hat, his gloves. Daniel can see it all from where he is standing by the balcony door. “It took me nearly half an hour to decide what to get my uncle.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine with everything,” he answers, eyes trained on Max’s rosy cheeks. He wants to kiss him badly. “Did you find anything for your aunt?”

“Some fancy coffee. I’m sure she just wants it for bragging rights. It’s not like she’s been to Monaco to know about that coffee place.”

“She wants to brag about getting it from the Max Verstappen.”

It makes Max snort. Arms laden with paper bags and gifts, he wanders into the living room. He drops everything by the couch, and when he looks up, he stops. He stares.

Daniel can’t blame him. He would be speechless too if he’d get home and find it decked in Christmas lights and decorations. “Surprise?” he says and it comes out like a question. The skin of his palms hurt from how hard he pressed his fingers into it.

“What—“ Max can’t find his words. He turns and turns, eyes roaming over every surface, taking in every single light, every single decoration hanging from the furniture and floor lamps, from ceiling and curtains. His mouth opens and closes, like a fish. Daniel would find it hilarious if he weren’t so nervous.

“Uhm, I found the box. In the back of the closet,” he says, shifting weight from one foot to the other. “Do you like it?”

 “But we’ll only be back in January,” he says, eyebrows frowned in confusion.

“Yes, but the cats will be here. They should be celebrating Christmas as well.”

Finally, Max turns to look at him. The blue of his eyes shines so brightly in all that golden light. “The cats?” he asks, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He takes a step closer to Daniel.

As if on cue, Sassy slinks around Daniel’s legs, meowing. “Yes, you,” Daniel says and picks her up. She bumps her wet nose against his chin. He kisses the top of her head. Max gets closer, close enough to touch.

“It’s nice,” Max concedes. “When did you have time to buy all of this?”

“I didn’t. It’s yours. Like I said, found everything in the closet.”

Max places his hands on Daniel’s waist, pulling him closer, Sassy slipping from his arms before she gets trapped between them. His body feels like a small, precious thing in the expanse of Max’s hands.

“I must have forgotten about it,” Max says, smile only getting wider. His hands circle around Daniel’s waist, fingers pressing into the small of his back.

“You must have.”

Max leans in and catches the corner of his mouth in a kiss. “You did a great job.”

Daniel preens. “Thank you.” He presses the tips of his fingers against Max’s cheeks to feel the warmth of his skin chasing away the chill of winter. He doesn’t say I did it for you.

Max turns his head to kiss the other corner of his mouth. “Did you also finish packing?”

Daniel stills. “I was busy decorating, obviously.”

Max grins. “I can see that.”

“I did a very good job.”

“Victoria wouldn’t approve.”

“Your sister doesn’t have to see this.”

“Oh, but she will.”

Daniel groans. “You’re a menace.”

Max laughs. Pressed together like that, Daniel feels it reverberating into his bones.

“You like it.” Daniel insists as he presses his palms against Max’s chest. “Admit it.”

“I like you,” Max says and then he presses Daniel against the window and kisses him breathless for all of Monaco to see it. Them. Daniel’s toes curls in pleasure at the thought.

“I like you too,” Daniel says when he emerges for air, flushed to his hairline, fingers curled against Max’s neck. The window is cold and it sips through his thin t-shirt, grounding him. He wants to kiss Max again.

“We’re going to be late,” Max says, reading him correctly.

“You literally own the plane,” Daniel says, smiling.

“Vicky will kill us if we make her wait.”

That makes Daniel move, but not before he presses his lips hard against Max’s one last time, a promise for later to be fulfilled.  

original prompt list here

luna's christmaxiel master list

[thinkithinktoomuch]

Pokéshipping QPR WIP Sneak Peek (with bonus Contestshipping)

“Have you thought about winter break at all?” He slides in across from her as she’s finishing her French onion soup from the league cafeteria. She hasn’t seen him since lunch yesterday— contrary to popular belief, they don’t spend all of their time together— but she knows he talked to his mom last night and Delia is probably already wondering when to expect them.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I figured we’d probably visit your sisters and we need to go spend some time with my mom, but we have nearly eight weeks off. That’s plenty of time to do something else, too.”

She’s not sure when they had decided that they were spending their entire winter vacation together. She’s not sure why he would want to come with her to see her sisters, but she’s not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially if that gift horse means she’ll have someone to help her when she inevitably gets stuck with all of the worst chores.

(She’s also not ready to question the fragile convention of their relationship out loud, but that’s another matter entirely.)

“Let’s go somewhere warm, preferably with a beach,” she offers.

“How did I know that’s what you were going to say?” he laughs. “I kinda wanted to go somewhere with some snow— you know, skiing, hot springs…” Hot springs sound nice enough, but now she’s got the beach on her mind. It occurs to her to suggest that they don’t have to vacation together, but she quickly pushes that thought aside.

“We could always battle for it,” she proposes. “1 v 1. Winner gets to pick.”

When he chooses Charizard and she calls out Starmie, Misty knows that this should be a good match, but then Ash makes the mistake of explaining the stakes to his pokémon and, as it turns out, Charizard would also prefer a beach vacation.

———

Hoenn’s always warm, so she calls May for a recommendation, and it just so happens that there’s a small beach resort near Route 110, an hour and a half northwest of Slateport, that May and Drew want to explore as a potential wedding venue.

May insists on being the one to do the booking, even though she and Drew will only be staying a week, so Misty gives her the three weeks she and Ash had picked out and let’s the Princess of Hoenn do her thing.

———

“When you make it look like you’ve put your entire life online, no one asks about what isn’t there.”

While waiting for her to get into the next dress, Misty pulls up May’s social media and quickly sees what she means. May posts a lot of pictures with friends— candids of Max and selfies with Soledad and spa days with Dawn and baking with Caroline— but Drew only ever appears at the edges of group photos. The story she tells shows all of these people who are main characters in her life and he is clearly secondary at best, if these photos are to be believed.

Of course, that has changed since the engagement announcement. Her most recent posts are photo dumps of the secret she’s kept for the last five years.

It’s enough for Misty to pull up her own profile and try to view it through a stranger’s eyes. There’s lots of water and even more pokémon, as is to be expected, but she also notices that Ash is tagged in over half of her photos, either in the photo itself or as the photographer. She’s never put as much thought into curating her social media as May clearly has, and it’s suddenly crystal clear why the tabloids spend so much time speculating on the nature of the relationship between her and Ash.

Heck, Pikachu is even in her profile photo.

———

“The thing about romance is that it requires romantic intent. Nothing is really inherently romantic,” Soledad explains over lunch.

“For example,” she adds, “when Drew sends May roses, it’s a lovely romantic gesture. When he sends me roses, it’s because he’s a sentimental little shit.”

“Wait,” Misty stops to look at Soledad and she can hear May cackling on her other side. “Drew sends you roses?”

Soledad grins.

“Every Mother’s Day.”

[fangurk]

Puppy Love (The Cullen Family x Child! Werewolf! Reader)

Key:

Y/n - Your Name

Y/h/c - Your Hair Color

Y/e/c - Your Eye Color

Y/f/c - Your Favorite Color

Y/f/f - Your Favorite Flavor

Prompt (given to me by @inrice): but could you do something along the lines of the cullens (mainly alice) takes upon the job of raising a werewolf!reader? who's a child of course.

Summary: Alice Cullen stumbles upon a very strange, very lonely child while out on a hunt and, in true Cullen fashion, decides to take them home. Nobody knows how to take care of a werewolf or a child, but when they put in a collective effort (and bring in the help of Bella) things start getting easier...

Warning: Is this kidnapping? It might be kidnapping, fluff, slightly angsty at some parts, AU because Caius is cruel, and potentially odd genderless terms of endearment.

A/n: family fic makes the brain go brrr. so like i didn't really know how to handle the whole werewolf thing because the twilight lore is so... bare... and i wanted to write more on the family parts so it's not like a real focus but it is mentioned quite a bit. I hope that's okay! /gen

Word Count: 1.2k+

Alice wasn’t able to foresee you.

She simply stumbled across you one day on a hunt, your tiny body curled up at the base of a tree. You smelled so much of dog she almost mistook you for one, and then you looked up at her with big y/e/c eyes and she knew.

Carlisle wasn’t very happy when she brought you home.

“The Volturi will have a field day with this.” He says as he repacks his doctor bag. “The child is dangerous to have around.”

“But they're all alone, Carlisle. You said it yourself, they looked like they were out there for days— and I waited there with them until nightfall, no one came…”

Her shoulders fall and she looks at the door separating them from the rest of the family.

“Oh please just let them stay, we’ll all take care of them— if anything we’re better suited for it than anyone!”

Carlisle opens his mouth to protest but is interrupted by Esme opening the door, you asleep in her arms. All of his hesitance melts away at the sight, and at the sound of your small snores.

He sighs. “Fine, the child can stay— but we have to be careful.”

Alice nearly erupts with her joy, and Carlisle tries to hide a smile.

──────────────────

They give you a nice bedroom.

Rosalie, Alice, and Esme take an entire day to shop, nearly clearing out three children’s stores in the process. They build you furniture and they paint the walls a pretty shade of y/f/c; you now own more toys and clothes than a kid can possibly comprehend.

You spend the day with Emmett, the only Cullen boy who’s comfortable getting close to you, and he introduces you to the wide range of children’s cartoons. Your browsing ended with Crashbox, something that had the big man far more into it than you, but it was fun nonetheless.

“Want to see your room, Y/n?” Rosalie hums, poking her head around the corner and flashing you a dazzling smile.

The ladies let you wander around the new space, excitement brightening your features.

Emmett is still enraptured by the TV long after you’re put to bed.

──────────────────

Most days are good days.

Even if two of the family members seem a little afraid of you, you’re happy. You’re fed and clothed and loved.

But then there are bad days.

You wouldn’t eat. Nothing Esme made you was satisfactory and you were too upset and overwhelmed to let anyone know what you wanted; everyone tries to comfort you, even Jasper with his powers, but none of it really seems to work.

And then Edward comes home.

He left at some point during the crying and everyone figured that he was just bailing ship like he usually does when it comes to you. But, in reality, he somehow managed to get a cohesive reading of your mind and immediately went to someone who could help him.

“I brought Bella.” He says, gesturing awkwardly at his equally awkward girlfriend when five sets of frustrated eyes land on him.

“And I brought chicken nuggets…” The brunette human raises the bag up with a smile.

Everyone watches in confusion as you perk up a bit.

“Uh, here.” Bella crosses the room and places the bag down in front of you.

You open the bag and immediately start eating, sniffling but no longer upset. Every Cullen is reeling in shock.

“Well. What do you have to say to Bella?” Alice clears her throat, giving you an encouraging smile.

“Thank you, Bella.” You mumble, mouth full of food.

“Oh- it was actually Edward’s idea.”

You turn and thank him, beaming, and he gives you a crooked smile in return.

Afterward, Edward doesn’t really avoid you anymore.

──────────────────

‘Children of the Moon’ don’t pass their lycanthropy onto their offspring.

Alice doesn’t like to think about it, but sometimes the implication that someone bit and infected you consumes her mind and it makes her want to cry.

──────────────────

On the days they go to school, you do too.

They figure it’s good for you to spend time with other kids your age, and it seems to be. You always come home with crazy stories of playtime adventures and smelling of paint and crayons; the teachers love you, or more so the bright little woman who picks you up from school.

“Draw your family.” The teacher encourages one day.

You draw the Cullens.

When you proudly hand it to Alice when she picks you up from school, she lifts you up in a hug. Jasper frames your little drawing and puts it up next to all of their graduation caps.

──────────────────

The full moon is pretty horrific.

In order to keep everyone safe from your tiny claws, they keep you in the basement. For hours before the transformation, you just lie down there and wail-- you’re only little, it’s only fair.

Alice sits outside and talks to you the whole time, her voice wavering and her hands shaking.

She doesn’t move after the wails turn into howls, even if it would be safer to do so.

──────────────────

“Does Jasper hate me?”

You’re wrapped up in bandages, sitting on the picnic blanket with your adoptive mother and eating a sandwich too big for you as her husband pretends to do something down by the water. Alice is completely blindsided. They’ve sort of explained what they are to you, and you’ve kind of filled in blank spaces to the best of your ability, but she’s still unsure how to explain Jasper’s hesitance.

She doesn’t wind up having to.

“No,” He says, sitting down next to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “I don’t. I’m actually quite fond of you darlin’.”

That alone seems to satisfy you and, over time, he loosens up a bit.

Jasper seems happier than he has in a while, listening to you talk about things little kids talk about, and Alice watches fondly with a smile.

──────────────────

One of them reads a story and tucks you into bed every night.

Most times it’s Alice, sometimes Jasper joins in.

Tonight is one of those nights. You’re clean and showered, dressed in a cute little pajama set, and nestled under the covers; she’s lying down next to you, Goodnight Moon open in her hands, and he’s in a chair next to the bed.

“... goodnight noises everywhere.” She finishes, smiling at your drooping eyes and lulling head.

Carefully, she unwinds herself from you and, with the help of her husband tucks the blanket under your sides. You tug your favorite stuffed animal close to your chest, y/e/c eyes closed, and a smile on your little face.

“Goodnight, y/n.” “Night, kid.” They each say, Alice bending down to kiss your head and Jasper opting to stand there and smile.

“G’night mom and dad.”

Jasper’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head and he turns to face his wife quickly.

Alice Cullen, the girl who forgot half of her life, never felt more whole than she did standing in your room, holding her mate’s hand, and turning off the light as the hushed sound of a cricket’s song filled the big house...

tag list:

@batmanunicorns523

[whirlybirbs]

               (   another gif by @unearthlydust​ from this beautiful set !   )

✪   —   VACANT MIRRORS  ;  B.B.  |  3/?

summary: you find out about bucky’s past, he finds out about yours. 

pairing: bucky barnes / f!reader

tags: set before & during tfatws, friends to lovers, therapy positive, trauma healing techniques, ptsd mentions, the normalization of anxiety disorders, and a good ol’ slow burn

word count: 6.4k, va va voom

a/n: oh look out here comes the plot, charactization, and growth between to pals who are maybe starting to feel a little something begin to take shape. but ignore that, there’s danger afoot. no spoilers for tfatws here!

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“You know I have to ask these questions. It’s part of the check-in.”

“Yeah,” you fire back, flat enough to warrant Dr. Hart’s scowl to grow. You can’t see it over the phone, but you know the way her words whip around you means she’s upset, “I know.”

“If you’re not following the action plan set out by the judge,” she begins, leaning forward as her tone drops into a scalding hot sort of seriousness on the other end, “You will go to prison. You know this. So, do you want to spend ten years of your life behind bars? Are you trying to get yourself locked up? Come on.”

You can’t look up from your computer’s screen. Or maybe you can, but right now, there’s a dangerous mixture of anger and guilt and frustration boiling under your skin.

“I’m trying.”

“Trying isn’t good enough for the GRC,” Dr. Hart snaps, “You know this. They’re giving you a chance — they know you’re talented. You have the ability here to go straight, to earn a living, to finally make up for those years of blackhat work.”

“Everything I did,” you fire back, ripping your eyes up to meet Dr. Hart’s, “Was for others. I didn’t get a fucking penny.”

“You’re not Robin Hood,” she shakes her head as her tone softens, “We all make mistakes. But, everything has a consequence. You know this. And this conversation isn’t even considering the other charges.”

“You know the extortion case would never hold up in court.”

Dr. Hart sighs raggedly. “And I don’t intend on ever seeing it play out in court, because you’re going to follow the conditions of your pardon.”

“The GRC is a bunch of fascists—”

“Enough,” she snaps, “If you want to go and appeal your case with the judge, be my guest, but I can almost guarantee you’ll be perp-walked out of that Federal courtroom in cuffs.”

She’s right.

Dr. Hart is right.

Your knee is bouncing, up and down and up and down. You’re wound up around yourself, arms crossed tight, brows knotted. With a shaky exhale, you just nod. You breathe, and you remind yourself that she’s right. She’s right, she’s right, she’s right. It’s not worth it. Dipping yourself back into that world, the layer of the web beneath the surface, isn’t worth it.

The GRC is your way out.

Just be a good little girl and do as you're told.

“So, I’m going to ask you again,” Dr. Hart begins, pen clicking alive on the other end of the phone call, “...Have you engaged in any illegal activities online in the last seven days?”

                                                       ◦   ◦   ◦   ◦   

Inessa Sidrova’s photo stares up at him from its place on the speckled marble counter, stacked neatly next to his notebook where her name is scrawled in chicken scratch — between two other names: Zemo and Henrikson.

His laptop, technically on loan from the FBI, sits beside both.

(When Barnes had agreed in that closed doors meeting to the conditions of his pardon, a certain FBI agent by the name of Jimmy Woo had been rather insistent that Barnes needed a personal computer in order to carry out his portion of the conditions insofar as tracking down the remaining HYDRA pawns in the States. Woo had also insisted, to the agreement of Dr. Raynor, that a personal computer would help better acclimate Barnes to the new world he’d been dropped into.

Woo was even nice enough to take an hour of his own time to show Bucky enough to get started — but was whisked away for some investigation out in New Jersey.)

Bucky rubs the cold vibranium of his left palm into his eye, then exhales long and slow.

He’s done all he can. And still, no leads on the woman.

Rounding the kitchen island, he digs his cell from his pocket. He goes back to staring at that text — the one he’d laughed out loud at the moment it lit up his phone — and he can feel that ol’ bite of anxiousness creep into his arms. His fingertips tingle.

On the television, a laugh track plays over a clip of The Three Stooges. Blue eyes flick upward, and he partially wishes a ladder would put him out of his own self-induced misery.

Outside, the antics of a Saturday night in Brooklyn roll on.

In the last few days he’s parsed through his thoughts enough to realize it’s not telling you that scares him — no, it’s telling you the truth. The whole truth. All of it. After all, the good comes with a lot of bad; the sort of bad you chain in a chest and sink in the ocean. And Bucky finds that, even still, the good is questionable at best. The good is… small. Microscopic. Completely and totally tainted by the fuckin’ decades of brainwashed, war dog bullshit.

He groans and drops his head back against the wall.

He tries, for the next twenty minutes, to formulate some sort of reply to your text message. But, half the battle is figuring out what to say, and the other half is actually typing it out. This whole flip phone purchase was really starting to sting like regret — and as much as Bucky loved technology back before the war, and all the magical possibilities it held, he can’t help but feel like an ornery old man now.

It’s the change. Steve was right. Too much change.

He can’t find the space button and he can’t figure out how to delete the random 3 he’d accidentally punched in — so, with a grumpy huff of disapproval, Bucky simply dials your number.

You pick up on the third ring.

“Don’t you know it’s Saturday?” your voice is a welcomed sound, “The History Channel is running a bunch of old war documentaries you might enjoy, grandpa.”

Bucky snorts, fiddling with the hem of his hoodie. “What makes you think I’d wanna watch that shit?”

“Everyone knows that old men like two things,” your voice is light, half-distracted from the sounds of it, “World War Two, or grilling. And honestly, you don’t strike me as the grilling type.”

“I like a good burger.”

“Yeah?” you snort, and Bucky can hear you shift your phone from one ear to the other, “Is that why you called? To hint at being hungry?”

“No,” he exhales, looking out the window, “No, I was trying to reply to your text but I can’t find the fuckin’ space button. Calling is easier.”

“Oh my god—”

“Shut up,” he barks with a laugh, sitting up, “Don’t even start — are you hungry?”

“Almost always, why?”

“Got any plans tonight?”

“... You do know who you’re asking, right?”

Bucky grins, a little boyish and a little tired. “Good point. Loser.”

“Oh, shut up. You’re the one calling me to hangout,” you snort, leaning to prop your feet up on your desk and lean back. Your chair wheels backwards, far enough for you to get a good look down the street. It’s a nice night, cool enough, and it seems like the whole borough is awake, “But, I’m only hanging out if you tell me what the fuck is up with court mandated therapy. I can’t wait another three days.”

Your anxiety has been pricked the last few days over it.

“... Do I get to pick the place?”

You roll your eyes. “Fine.”

“Great,” he exhales tightly, “I hope you’re in the mood for sushi.”

                                                       ◦   ◦   ◦   ◦   

Izzy’s is busy, but there’s privacy in the bustle.

Bucky had buzzed your apartment’s ringer and you’d flown down the stairs, looking… alive. The sort of alive that was new — like a fresh bud beginning to bloom in spring. It had made him grin, and he’d watched you push a tress of hair behind your ear as you decided it was warm enough for no jacket tonight. The light of the crosswalk sign lit you up like a star.

He was sweating.

Dr. Raynor was right — that was it, of course it was — that it was getting too warm for his usual outfit. So, he’d settled on the next best thing: a sweatshirt that was big enough and black enough that he could bury himself in it. His hands are tucked neatly into the pockets.

No gloves tonight.

He feels naked.

He shoulders the door and holds it open with the toe of his boot as you duck towards the back of the restaurant. There’s a booth in the back by a large bamboo plant — you weave through the place with a new found confidence. There’s anxiousness in your shoulders but it melts when you look back at Bucky. Like a watchful guard dog, he nods.

You settle into the booth, toss your jacket in the corner, and smirk.

“I get out sometimes,” Bucky remarks before you can even say anything. He shifts in the booth and reaches up to scratch his cheek with his right hand, “Not often, but I do.”

“I didn’t say anything...”

“You were going to,” he nearly smirks back, his brows raised as he adjusts the chopsticks on the table, “I know that look.”

You snort, nudging his boot under the table. That works a huffed little laugh out the man across from you. Almost immediately you can sense anxiousness rolling off him — it’s the tightness in his mouth that gives him away, the way he’s fussing with the soy sauce dish and trying to get it to line up perfectly with the marbling on the table. Worry flashes in your eyes.

“Bucky.”

He raises his head.

“You alright?” you ask quietly.

“You have to promise not to flip out.”

Your brows knot tightly — but before you can even question what the fuck he means, he’s casually dropping his other hand onto the table.

And you almost don’t notice at first. Your brain fills the gaps in, figuring it’s his glove. But, then you blink and his hand catches the light and you realize it’s not leather. It’s glittering obsidian, garnished with gold, and it’s moving. Flexing. Seams bending and warping and there’s a gentle hum coming from the appendages and you squint because he’s tapping his fingers on the table and there’s a metallic tik-tik-tik that meets your ears.

Then, your eyes jump to his face.

He looks pained.

You’re confused.

And then you’re not.

“You’re —”

You slap a hand over your own mouth. You have to promise not to flip out. Your eyes are eighty miles wide and your jaw is falling open and you’re leaning forward, whispering in a rushed tone because what the fuck.

“You’re that Bucky?!”

Oh, you feel stupid.

The hostess appears, suddenly. You snap backwards in the booth, Bucky tucks his hand away, and you both muster forced smiles to the waitress. She’s young. Pretty. Her name-tag says Sarah.

She asks about drinks.

Bucky gets a beer.

Slowly, you knock your knuckles against the table and drop your head into your hand. The look on your face is exhausted. “Do you guys have Mai Tais?”

The answer is yes. And you’re glad. Because you’re going to fucking need it.

The two of you are quiet until the drinks come — avoiding one anothers gazes for completely different reasons. Bucky is sheepish, a bit mortified, like he always is when people recognize him. It’s why he shaved his fuckin’ head. It worked well enough but… the arm was usually a dead giveaway.

Meanwhile, you’re wondering if you could shave your own head and disappear. Because there’s no easy way to explain the weird elation swirling in your chest right now.

Bucky’s first to speak. His beer is in his good hand. He inhales quickly, eyes darting to you as he leans forward and whispers incredulously. He speaks quickly and his words are pointed with an edge of curiosity.

“...What do you mean ‘that Bucky’?”

“Y’know, I knew there was a reason you acted like you needed a senior citizen discount. And you know exactly what I mean,” you rush out all while waving your Mai Tai and jabbing the side with the umbrella towards him, “Listen, this is a lot to take in, Mr. Avenger.”

“I am not an Avenger—”

“You helped reverse the Snap. You’re the Winter Soldier. That makes you an Avenger—”

Bucky’s shaking his head, eye screwed shut tightly because the sudden equation to his past self being considered a hero is like being socked in the mouth. He stutters over his words and shakes his head more vigorously, like he’s trying not to hear what you’re saying.

“I am not the Winter Soldier. Not anymore. And it’s not like I’m not on the fuckin’ roster, doll—”

You hold a finger up, stopping him there, and take a long sip of your sunset colored drink. You swallow. You exhale. Bucky swigs his beer.

“One, don’t call me doll,” you say curtly, then raise a second finger. You lean in and squint, “Two… Christ, the haircut really makes a big difference, doesn’t it?”

“That’s what everyone keeps saying,” he sighs raggedly, dismissing your scrutiny.

You puff your cheeks out and exhale. Leaning back in the booth, you try not to feel so fucking insane.

“...I can never have you over now.”

Bucky’s brows narrow quickly and his eyes snap to yours. “What?”

“I can’t have you over,” you explain slower with your eyes rooted to the soy sauce in the corner, “Because I don’t think I could ever handle you seeing my signed and framed Captain America poster from his USO tour in 1943.”

Bucky’s face is deadpan. “You’re kidding.”

“I really wish I was,” you gripe, “It’s an original.”

“...You’re a Cap girl,” he says suddenly, leaning back with this look in his eye. It’s less of a question. You can’t pin it down. It looks like he's damn near traumatized.

Bucky thinks — honestly — that this is the cherry on top. Every girl back then was a Cap girl, too. It figures, now, in this new century where he’s making new friends that… as per usual, Steve gets the cake. That fuckin’ pint sized bastard.

He’ll have to tell him about this.

You yank your eyes up to Bucky’s face. His mortification is shifting to surprise to amusement. You’re fast to sit up, mouth opening to fire a retort — but Bucky’s suddenly really enjoying the look of pure horror on your face at the insinuation. He’s smirking. Plain as day. He swigs his beer.

“No, no—” you raise a finger, “No, stop it. Don’t make it fuckin’ weird, Bucky, it’s not like I have his name tattoo’d on my ass. And I knew a girl in college who did.”

His brows rise sharply and you’re finding you’re regretting everything that’s coming out of your mouth.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you guffaw, gesturing for him to show you his hand again, “I wanna see.”

Bucky sighs and plucks his hand from his hoodie pocket.

With a sort of tenderness Bucky wasn’t prepared to handle, you take his metallic hand into your own. There’s an immediate twinge — one that’s procured by flashes of violence from years of being a walking weapon. He breathes, and he reminds himself that this arm is not the same that tethered him to HYDRA all those years ago.

This arm is his, it is not him.

The sensation is different. He isn’t used to anyone touching him like this; he’s used to the feeling of flesh on the other end of a punch, or a throat caught in his palm. Not the gentle pass of your fingers, delicate and purposeful, over his knuckles.

You turn over his hand, eyes alight with curiosity — and Bucky, desperate to stamp out the hotness growing in his gut, moves quickly to flick your nose.

“Ow—”

“Don’t stare,” he says coyly, “It’s rude.”

The waitress is back. His hand is tucked away, and you wrestle the stupid expression off your face long enough to order a plate of assorted maki rolls and some fried tofu. Bucky orders what seems like his usual — shrimp tempura and spicy tuna rolls.

The waitress, Sarah, disappears with a smile.

You’re grinning.

“So… Does this make me the sidekick?” you whisper playfully.

“Shut up,” Bucky laughs, his lips almost darting into a smile.

You cock your head, pushing your chopsticks across the table with a horribly coy look on your face. It’s comical. “...I think this makes me the sidekick.”

“It — stop it — it does not make you the sidekick,” Bucky says slowly as he sips his beer and pins you in the booth across from him, “I’m not a hero. You’d have better luck asking Cap on that one.”

You grow silent. There’s a question hanging on your tongue. You’re wrestling with yourself — Bucky can see that much. He frowns.

“Spit it out, Goose.”

You blink. “Was that a Top Gun reference?”

“You wanted to be the sidekick.”

You wave it off, blinking into your Mai Tai. Your voice is quiet. Even as you speak, there’s a hesitancy akin to walking on eggshells. “What happened to Cap? Is he… alive? He’s gone off the grid. It’s, like, this massive conspiracy theory online.”

“He’s upstate.”

You blink.

“That’s ominous.”

Bucky shrugs. “Someday I’ll take you. It’s… nice.”

You go quiet. You freeze, drink halfway to your mouth. Bucky can’t help but smirk at that. His laugh is more of a scoff than anything.

“Relax, Miss America.”

“Shut up — do you mean that?”

“What, that I think you’re in love with Captain America?”

“No, you bastard, that you’ll take me. To meet him.”

Bucky’s words are easy. They roll off his tongue without a second thought. He feels… okay. Like this part is okay. Not as bad as he thought it could be. His anxiousness isn’t as heavy now. He feels like he isn’t losing you. But then again, he hasn’t gotten to the bad part yet.

“He’s my best friend,” Bucky explains plainly, “And so are you.”

The admission is warm. As easy as breathing. Two months in the making.

“Your only friend,” you say quietly, offering the joke as a cover for the softening tone that dances over your words. It’s affection, you realize, as you mimic his shrug, “But, go on.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” Bucky chirps, “But, yea, I mean it. He’d like you.”

You raise your chin, wiggling a bit in the booth. It’s pride — and as much as Bucky likes the look of it, he can’t handle the ridiculousness that comes along with it. But, it’s sort of comforting. He knows this playfulness, this easiness, it’s all because he’s him. You trust him. In.a way, it strikes Bucky with guilt. There are wall of his still built up high. Maybe they’re slowly coming down, but… he’s like a stray dog, slow to trust.

“Safe to say,” you breathe, “I have a few questions.”

“I figured as much.”

You sip your drink and swallow. You raise a hand. “But — I wanna know the boundaries. I don’t want to… I don’t want to pry about shit I have no business knowing, alright? It’s your life and even if we are friends, I don’t need to know everything.”

The relief is almost immediate. He thumbs the label of his beer.

“Ask anything. But I can’t promise I’ll be able to give you the answers.”

“And I’ll leave it at that,” you say sternly, propping your elbow up on the table and offering your pinky finger, “Until you want to talk about it. Promise.”

He crooks his pinky in yours, squeezing gently. You smile.

Sarah comes back with the food, and then Bucky offers his usual half-exhausted, half-amused smirk.

“You get three questions now. Then, we shut up and eat.”

You fold your hands neatly over themselves, eyeing your food as you try your best to sort out what questions come up with the most urgency. There’s… a lot. I mean, everyone knew about the Avengers — and everyone had their opinions. The Sokovia Accords, Lagos, the Blip… and SHIELD. Years of bullshit culminating around those who were considered the heroes. The kickback usually ended up on everyday citizens like you. After the initial amazement, the reality of it all set in.

But, to Bucky’s point, he wasn’t really an Avenger.

Nowadays, there really wasn’t a team at all. No up-state compound, no leader, no Stark and no Rogers.

You’re sure the GRC will try — that the military will try. Morale and hope and blah, blah, blah.

You narrow your eyes. “How old are you?”

It’s quick. “One hundred and six.”

“How’d they keep you alive that long?”

There’s a wince that flashes across his face like he’s been stabbed with a white hot poker in the ribs. You see a twitch of irritation bubble across his lips. Not with you. No, it’s that this question is still hard for him to answer. Bucky exhales sharply.

“Next question.”

You feel a pang of guilt flare in your chest. You move along.

“Who kept you alive that long?”

“The Russians. HYDRA, if you wanna get specific.”

You exhale and settle on the fact you now have more questions than answers. But, you nod and snatch up your chopsticks. Enough of the twenty questions game.

In all honesty, it’s not like Bucky’s existence was common knowledge. The Winter Soldier was known mostly, sure, to those who had floated in the same circles as him when he was nothing but a rabid cur on a choke chain. He can’t help but be a bit thankful for the minor erasure of his new self — sure, in the eyes of the U.S. government he was a high-level threat to be reintegrated as soon as possible and surveyed at all times. But, to the average New Yorker, he was just another person. Everyone was so used to seeing the heroes in their costumes with their bigger than life personas and…

Bucky was just Bucky.

Even he didn’t really know who that was. He was starting to.

His pardon had come with some flak from some of the more political news outlets but… somehow, the details of the Winter Soldier’s exact crimes were being kept silent. Probably to avoid panic. And, even then, the connection between the newly alive James Buchanan Barnes and The Winter Soldier hadn’t been made yet in the public eye. He was glad.

The haircut definitely helped.

It’s like he was a walking classified redaction.

Bucky has a sushi roll in his mouth when he finally speaks. “For such a Captain American fan, I’m surprised you didn’t recognize me.”

“Oh, you’re really not gonna let that go, huh?” you say as you chew, covering your mouth. You swallow and waggle your chopsticks at him, “Listen, it’s been a while since I’ve… y’know, had my Avengers phase. That was years ago. It was at its peak when I worked for SHIELD. And besides, you’re kinda new to the whole superhero scene.”

Bucky frowns. “You worked for SHIELD...?”

“For a year,” you say tightly, “Back before the collapse.”

“Only a year?”

“It was for my graduate program,” you wave it off, “I won out on the most competitive internship NYU had to offer. I was working within their cybersecurity division. I will say I spent more time trying to sort of email phishing scams than anything else, though. I’m sure they saw my record and wanted to keep me away from the juicy stuff.”

Bucky squints.

You offer a sheepish shrug.

“I got into trouble when I was younger,” you sip your drink and sigh, “I always liked computers. I used to spend all my time on forum sites just… reading and talking to people and figuring out how these sites actually worked, so learning how to write my own code was just the next step. When I was fifteen, I learned how to tap phones. At sixteen, I was hijacking my neighbor’s internet conenctions and remotely controlling his laptop.”

“Sounds like a good time.”

“Yea, well, he was a sitting Senator who was having an affair with the nanny,” you mutter, “And I was stupid enough to try and blackmail him for cash. I wish I could say I learned my lesson.”

Bucky exhales long and hard at that, like he knows where that snap of misguided judgement goes. It’s not like he’s passing judgement onto you, but… like he knows the feeling. And you manage to not feel so small, then — telling him this is easy. It’s not your favorite part of your life by any means, but Bucky is listening. Really listening.

He fiddles with the paper wrapper of the chopsticks.

“So, less a Goose and more a Kevin Poulsen type, huh?”

You snort. “For an old man, I’m surprised you know who that is. But, I wasn’t hacking into the Pentagon at seventeen. I was too busy doing community service.”

“HYDRA had their eyes on him in the 90s,” Bucky mumbles through a bite of spicy tuna, the memory popping into his mind and flying out before he can stop it, “I remember… I thought his username was stupid.”

“Oh, you didn’t like Dark Dante?”

“Like I said,” Bucky chortles, “Stupid.”

“You wouldn’t have liked mine, then,” you smirk lightly, “It’s worse.”

Bucky raises his brows, somehow doubting that entirely. “Really?”

“...I was hackrabb1t for a long time. Y’know, with a ‘one’ for the ‘i’,” you cringe, “People kept thinking I was a furry.”

There’s a pause. Bucky’s face is set in an unreadable emotion. It’s confusion mixed with amusement mixed with… something else. When he speaks, he clears his throat and tilts his head.

“It’s clever. But,” a pause, “What is a furry? I’ve been seeing that word all over PlentyOfFish.”

Your jaw flies open. You raise your hands as your head reels around. Bucky has a look on his face like he knows, he knows he shouldn’t have asked and he definitely shouldn’t have given you enough context to know where he’s seen that phrase before, because now you’re looking at him like he has seventeen heads and they’re all on fire.

“Y’know what, nevermind—”

“—Oh, no, no, there’s way too much to unpack here,” you lean forward, “You’re on PlentyOfFish?”

“ChristianMingle wasn’t really my speed — stop laughing.”

“Shut up — stop it, stop — this is too much,” you say with a high voice, “If you get catfished, I’m not helping you track the person down…”

“—What the hell is a catfish?” he nearly cries, raising both hands in a desperate shrug, “I don’t even know what any of these words mean.”

“Oh, you sweet, naive, innocent, man—”

“No, no, no, no,” he chirps, raising a finger with a deadly look of seriousness on his face, “No, I am not naive or sweet or any of the above. I’ll take ‘cute’, sure, but none a’ those.”

“Is that what the furries call you on PlentyOfFish? Cute?”

He drops his head back against the booth and stares at the ceiling.

“Our friendship was a mistake, rabbit.”

You choke out a laugh. “Shut up, you walking claw machine.”

You’re both laughing now — quieter but sustained and everytime you think you’ve calmed down enough to sip your Mai Tai, you just have to look at the distraught, scruffy man across from you to break into another fit of muffled laughter. Finally, after what feels like forever, you both manage to calm down enough to finish the plates in front of you.

There’s a warmth that’s settled in Bucky’s chest — it’s eaten away at the usual jitter in his legs, the anxious twitch of his fingers. It’s a different emotion. Acceptance, maybe. Comfort. Affection.  

Then, while you’re piling the last bit of sushi rice into your mouth when your phone, set on the side of the table, begins to go off. It hums erratically, dancing in a circle, and all you do is stare at the name flashing across the screen. You’re smiling, hugging her. It’s from Jaimie’s wedding — out in some big, wide open orchard with the sun setting behind you. The picture there is old; you were both different people then.

Before… everything.

MOM Morristown, NJ

You scowl and stare.

Bucky blinks.

“You gonna get that?”

Quickly, you snap out of it. You reach and silence the buzzing with two quick taps. Quietly, you offer up a somber sigh.

“I never do.”

Bucky frowns again, this time with a worried look that digs deep into his eyebrows. You ignore it on purpose, pushing your plate away and leaning back in the booth. He knows what you’re doing — you’re avoiding his gaze, and therefore his own questions.

“Rabbit.”

“Oh, is that my new nickname, then?”

“It fits,” he chirps before crossing his arms, strategically hiding his metallic hand, “What’s up?”

You grow quiet — then it spills out.

“I can’t talk to her.”

“Why?”

You chew your lip. You bite your tongue and you hold back on the finer points of your anger — ones dredged up by the still present sting of your check-in with Dr. Hart this afternoon.

Here it comes.

“As a part of my pardon, I was ordered no-contact with my family,” you exhale, controlling the level of your voice, reciting the court papers you’d read over and over and over, “It was deemed that further contact would impact my progress towards reformed behavior and judgment.”

Bucky’s eyes are wide. His jaw is tight.

“What the fuck do you mean ‘pardon’?”

It’s your turn to cross your arms now, to ignore the sting of his look. It’s the kind that screams disappointment more than anything. You hate that you’re getting it from Bucky of all people.

“Like I said, I didn’t learn my lesson when I was a kid,” you shirk, “Last year I was arrested on a number of counts — I’d been evading the FBI, CIA, all of them, for years. I was doing it all for people like me. The ones who got left behind.”

Bucky’s tone is flat. It’s serious. His next sentence is less of a question, more of an order. The cadence is rhythmic and it reminds you of your brother the night he found out about the first time you’d been arrested; you decide, then, that Jaimie and Bucky would have gotten along.

“What did you do?”

“Whatever I could,” you wave your hands, “Identity theft, falsified documents, insurance fraud. Anything. There were people, like me, that in a blink, lost everything. Accidents, deaths, evictions and no one did anything for us. The insurance agencies wouldn’t cover damages related to The Snap. Life insurance policies, social security… It all got snatched up by people at the top while the system collapsed around us. I had to pay for my brother’s funeral out of pocket. And there were hundreds of thousands of people just like me, just trying to get by. And everything failed us.”

Bucky is stuck in silence. It’s like mud, dragging him to the bottom of a pond — the sort that’s dredged with misery. In an instant, his veins are on fire with an anger he hadn’t felt in a while. It manifests itself in the tightening of his jaw. He rubs his face and props his elbows up on the table.

“Why won’t they let you see your family?”

You fiddle with your napkin.

“My brother… His wife was on maternity leave when she disappeared in the Blip,” you mutter, “She came back to no job, a dead husband, and no home. Their apartment complex had been abandoned. She’s trying her best to make ends meet. She lives with my Mom in our old home. Neither of them can find work. They… The court thought that I’d be influenced to do something if I was around them.”

“What, like help?”

“They see me as a criminal,” you manage, “But I’m useful, so they’re keeping me around.”

Silence falls between the two of you once more — and the sad look on your face makes Bucky’s chest tight. He can see anxiety beginning to spill over; you’re wringing the napkin, fiddling with the edges. Suddenly, Bucky realizes you’re feeling exactly how he was an hour or so ago.

Your voice is soft. “I’m sorry. I was going to tell you.”

“Looks like we’re two birds of a feather,” he says, knocking the toe of your sneaker with his boot, “Listen, we all do stupid shit. I’ve got a lot worse weighing me down. I get it.”

You look up, sadness glistening in your expression like sun off a lake. It’s harsh. He wants to look away.

He doesn’t.

“... So, that means you’re good with computers?”

                                                      ◦   ◦   ◦   ◦  

That’s how you find yourself in Bucky’s Brooklyn apartment at almost midnight, wandering behind him in the long halls and watching curiously as he digs his key from his pocket and shoulders the door open.

It’s a small apartment. One bed, one bath, a kitchenette and that’s really it.

For its size, it’s hardly lived in.

You suppose it makes sense — Bucky didn’t have a lot of personal belongings, and with the hints he’d dropped about his life before The Blip, you were beginning to understand that he may have never really had that much to begin with.

There’s a blanket on the floor by the television and a single couch pillow. It’s tucked in the corner, behind a small sofa. There’s a chair in the living room, one from an old dining set. At the kitchen counter, there’s a stack of papers and a single laptop. Even though all the kitchen’s wares are older models, the bones of the apartment are good. Bare, but good.

You stop in the doorway to the bedroom and stare at the untouched bed. The sheets are tucked tightly in the corners — there’s something militaristic about it. Across the hall is the bathroom. It’s small. You can see a few amenities scattered across the sink’s top.

Being in here feels something like an open wound.

It was lonely. Quiet. Cold.

“We need to make a trip to HomeGoods,” you mumble as Bucky flicks on the lights, “I get the whole minimalist thing, but sheesh.”

“I don’t have a lot,” he says, kicking off his boots by the door and shrugging off his jacket, “And I don’t need a lot either.”

You watch as his shoulders sag a bit, like he can finally let down his guard just a little in his own space. It’s endearing. You perch yourself up on the kitchen counter as your eyes follow him; he moves to fling open a cabinet and grabs a mug. Then, he hesitates.

“You want tea?” he asks over his shoulder.

“Tea?”

“Dr. Raynor said,” Bucky reaches for a container of tea bags from the top shelf. His henley lifts enough to flash a bit of skin along his lower back and you swear you see a scar, “It would help with my anxiety.”

You swing your legs a little. “Then sure.”

“You can use my Captain America mug,” he chirps, laughing a little to himself, “Seeing as you’re such a big fan…”

“God, I regret even saying anything to you,” you spit as you hop down and lean around him to get a look at the mug, “Did you seriously buy that?”

“It was a gift.”

“Bullshit.”

Bucky snorts as you shake your head and wander backwards, eyeing the rest of his apartment with a bit of astonishment. It’s really nothing impressive — but, you suppose it makes sense. Whatever meager disbursement that the government was willing to give Bucky for his efforts in fixing the Snap was better than nothing.

Your gaze hangs on the blanket in the corner.

He watches you; and he notes the sore sadness that dissolves your posture at the sight of the nest in the corner. A bit of shame colors his cheeks as he heats up the water. When Bucky speaks, it’s slow.

“The bed was too soft. I couldn’t sleep on it,” he shifts from foot to foot and focuses on taking the tea bags out and methodically wrapping the strings around the handles, “Dr. Raynor said that’s a typical thing for soldiers to experience when they come home from war.”

You’re quiet for a while after that, only speaking when he rounds the counter with your tea. He offers it up with a tilt of the head.

“You never got to come home, though, right?”

“No,” comes the short reply as you both watch the lights outside the window, “No, I didn’t. Not until now.”

You nudge his arm with yours. You lean a bit. Bucky leans back.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he manages after a sigh and sip of the tea, “I can’t just feel sorry for myself anymore. I’m trying to fix the wrongs I did — and that’s why I need your help.”

You quirk a brow. He reaches around you and grabs the stack of papers on the counter. With a steady grip, Bucky presents the photo of a woman who looks strikingly familiar. You can’t place her face, but there’s something about her that feels like a slap across the cheek. She’s young here, in a faded photo with tattered edges. Beside her is a man who is laughing. The photo is candid, and they’re both beautiful. They’re both  wearing a uniform — but you can’t place the era or location.

You turn to Bucky for answers.

“Back in the 70s, at the height of the Cold War, HYDRA was working in tandem with the Russians to spy on American forces,” he offers easily, staring out the window, “The American HYDRA cell hadn’t yet been planted. This man, Andrei Kuznetzov, was a spy. He was feeding the Americans information on the Russian nuclear program. His wife, the one in the photo, was ordered to kill him. She refused.”

Bucky’s fingers twitch.

His words are soaked through with pain.

“I,” he continues, “killed him.”

You hold your breath. Then you spare him a mournful look.

“Inessa Sidrova went on to help form the same HYDRA cell that ended up taking over SHIELD here in America,” Bucky mumbles, “She’s dangerous. There’s others like her, ones who I helped create, all over the world. But, she’s my top priority. I just haven’t had much luck tracking her down.”

“That’s why you need my help.”

“I’m 106 years old,” Bucky deadpans, “The microfiches at the library were getting a little tedious.”

“But,” you chirp with a sly smirk, “You figured out how to set up a PlentyOfFish account?”

He shoulders you again as you sip your tea and laugh.

“Shoulda never said anything,” Bucky grumbles, “Dr. Raynor thought it was a good idea. Y’know, to get back out in the world.”

“I can promise you,” you say with a stern shake of the head, “The metal arm will get you plenty of chicks and dudes in due time.”

“Good to know,” Bucky replies as his words lilt with a playful sort of questioning that you purposefully ignore. You’re not feeding his ego today. Maybe tomorrow, after you take a crack at figuring out where this woman is.

It’s going to be a long night.

[ijwrsmff]

Hello there

This one is a bit lengthy but can i please get headcanons of the straw hats reaction to an admiral reader(gender neutral please) who quits the marine to join them, and is at first is distrusted but does something to gain theirs trust

I hope it's not too much trouble

It's no trouble at all! I really like this idea, it was a ton of fun to write! I hope you enjoy it ^^

Luffy:

He found you during a fight with the marines

He noticed...you were so much stronger than the marines you were fighting with

Maybe not strong in comparison to Luffy...but he was extremely powerful so comparing to him isn’t fair

He saw you deal what should have been a finishing blow to his crewmates…

But for some reason you never hit them hard enough to kill them

Down them, sure...but never kill

He makes quick work of the other marines, and approaches you with a smile

“Join my crew!”

You looked at him baffled

“Quit the marines and throw away all my hard work to become an admiral because some...kid thinks I would be a good match for his crew? No thanks.”

Luffy left it at that, but knew he’d see you again soon

You encountered him once more at a nearby island

“Is...is that offer still on the table?”

He grinned wide and pulled you by your hand to his ship

He couldn’t put his finger on it...but something was special about you

He just knew the crew would love you

After they get over their initial distrust that is

But Luffy? He trusted you already

No hesitation, he knew you had a good heart and that’s what really mattered

Zoro:

He didn’t trust you...at all

He would go silent when you talked to him, giving you the silent treatment

He didn’t trust the marines...how was he supposed to know you weren’t there as a spy?

You tried to talk to him a couple times...but he just pretended he was sleeping

One day, he was up in the crow’s nest training and you walked in

“Mind if we spar? It’s been a while since I was able to.”

Since you left the marines

He huffed but gave a firm “sure”

He didn’t go easy on you, which surprised him when you handled yourself fairly well

You parried his attacks, and gave a few good jabs of your own

He respected your strength

He still won...but he expected to beat you within seconds

Not minutes, nearly half an hour of sparring

From then on, he’ll make small talk with you

Every once in a while he’ll go to take a nap and he’ll pull you down to lay beside him

He also sits next to you at the dinner table, even helping you fend off Luffy when he tries to steal your food

Overall...he respected strength. And if Luffy chose you...you were here to stay

Once he starts to trust you, he’ll protect you at all costs

Nami:

She trusts Luffy’s decision...but that doesn't mean she has to trust YOU

She won’t go out of her way to be mean...but she won’t help you if it means bending over backwards

She interrogates you, wanting to know why Luffy had chosen you

After days of interrogation on and off...she thinks she sees why

You were unhappy in the marines

Sure...you managed to become an admiral...but the happiness you had hoped to feel just wasn’t there

She discovered that in the short time you’ve been on this ship, you’ve felt happier than you ever did in the marines

She’ll be nicer after that, slowly building up her trust in you

“Want me to show you how I chart the islands we go to?”

Even if cartography wasn’t your thing, you figured it would help get you closer to Nami

After that, you would spend hours upon hours with Nami

She can be very...very protective

So once she trusts you, any comments about you that weren’t warranted she’d defend you

She wants to get closer to you, and spends the majority of her time with you

Either sitting on the deck or working on her maps

She even tells Sanji off if he starts to bother you, making the hearts in his eyes break

She’ll protect you...and she knows in her heart you’d protect her too

Usopp:

He is so...so scared of you at first

You were an ADMIRAL

How could you just give up that position to join a crew?

Doesn’t trust you for a good long while

He’s convinced you’re a spy

He lets his imagination get to him, and that drives a wedge between you two

You don’t blame him...the situation is sketchy, but you were genuine

You would spend all the time needed to get the crew to trust you

After only being with them a short period of time...you trusted them with your life

And that’s never happened before

In the marines...people wouldn’t go out of their way to save another if it meant getting hurt in the process

During battle, you stepped in front of Usopp and took a harsh blow, forming a long slash across your chest

After that...he’s significantly nicer to you

He visits you in the infirmary and looks...troubled

“What’s wrong Usopp?” You give him a concerned look

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you save me...you’re hurt now. Because of me.”

You smiled at him...so he did care

This was a good first step

Maybe eventually you can become even closer

Sanji:

He’s reluctant to trust you at first, but Luffy seems to see something in you…

Just like he saw something in him

So he tries to get closer to you, even going so far as to not flirt with you

Not until he got to know you better

The first time he really began to see the trust between you building was a regular day

Nothing particularly special about it, except you went into the kitchen while he was cooking

“Mind if I help?” It was your attempt to get closer to him

“Of course! Here, I need this mixed.”

You cooked together in relative silence, small talking every once in a while

Overall it was...nice

It was a bonding experience and he cherished it

That day, he sat next to you at the dinner table

You gave him a wide smile, which he returned

He would defend you to anyone who spoke ill of you after that

He could be quite protective, and it showed

Especially to Zoro, who made comments about your being a spy (which only made Usopp and Chopper panic more about the situation)

“Hey marimo! They don’t deserve the bullshit you’re throwing at them. Back off.”

“What are you gonna do about it, shitty cook?” A smirk formed on Zoro’s face

Oh dear...it looks like they’re fighting again

You went to speak up, but Nami stopped you

“They get like this sometimes. Though it’s impressive how quick Sanji was to take the bait this time...I think he likes you.” She gives you a wink and your face flushes

Who knows what the future will bring...all you know? Is that you made the right choice to join this crew

Chopper:

He wants to trust you...he really does

But the nagging fear of you hurting his crew is at the back of him mind

He avoids you, not wanting to risk getting hurt

Once you get injured in battle...he realizes how unfair it was that he did so

“I’m sorry y/n...you’re hurt. Please follow me to the infirmary.”

He keeps it relatively formal, only talking when he needed to do something to check on you

“Would you...come back in a couple days so I can check on the wound and how it’s healing?”

You gave him a smile “yes doctor! Thank you!”

“Hehe you don’t have to thank me I don’t deserve your thanks I was just doing what I’d do for any of our crew!” He swayed back and forth, his paws on his face as he smiled

You could swear you saw flowers around him…

After that, he invited you to play games with him, Usopp, and Luffy

While Usopp was still reluctant, Luffy was 100% on board

“Come on y/n! Play with us!” Chopper smiled up at you and...well...there’s no way you could say no to his adorable face

So you joined in

It was fun...more fun than you thought possible to have

You laughed as Chopper tagged you, and you spun around picking him up in a hug

“Chopper...thank you.”

He smiled and laughed, “for what? Tagging you?”

You shook your head, putting him down

“No...for being a good friend.”

And he was, he was your best friend. You grew closer to him in the days following and you were certain you made the right decision

Robin:

She knows what it’s like to not be trusted by the crew initially...but at least with her it was one pirate to another

You were a marine

And not just a marine...but an admiral

She is reluctant to trust you, but will give you the benefit of the doubt

She spends a lot of time with you, gauging if you’re a threat to her crew or not

She would sacrifice herself for any one of them...you’re no exception

She almost thinks its her JOB to determine if you’re a threat or not

It wasn’t until your first battle together that she finds she trusts you

You give her a look, and she knows to use her devil’s fruit

You both coordinate perfectly together, and it shows your trust

She has only battled so flawlessly with her crew...which means you’re entirely one of them now

She will defend you from that fight forward, and stands up for you when the others express their doubts

“Y/n? Would you like to read with me?” She pats the spot next to her and smiled at you

“Of course! What are we reading today?”

The two of you grow closer and closer, spending hours upon hours just...enjoying each other’s company

She looks at your smile and knows...she would do anything to keep that happy smile on your face

Franky:

He doesn’t trust you...but he doesn’t...NOT trust you

He’s reluctant to get close, but finds it’s really easy with you

He’s newer to the crew, but he trusts Luffy’s judgement

So he doesn’t have any reason not to give you a chance

He’ll spend time with you, requesting you sit in his workroom as he works on a specialized weapon for you

Over that time, you make a lot of small talk

It brings you closer together

“Y/n! What do you think?” He’ll say holding up your now finished weapon “Pretty super, right? Don’t you just love it?” He has a look of pride on his face that makes you grin

You take the weapon into your hands and feel the weight is perfect

Not light, but not overly heavy either

“Thank you Franky!” You jump up to hug him and miss seeing his face turn a dark crimson

“O-of course! Anything for a crewmate!” He hugs you back, lightly as if he’s afraid he’ll break you

This makes you laugh, “Franky...I was an admiral remember? I won’t break from a hug!”

“Well then...take this!” He lifts you up, spinning you around in circles

You both laugh, pulling each other closer and closer

Once he sets you down you see the fleeting color of pink on his cheeks

You were sure your face mirrored the same color

He knows in that moment he would protect you

Even if you didn’t need it

Maybe...protect isn’t the right word

It sounds so...one sided

“I’ll protect you...will you protect me?” He looks sheepish, almost as if he hated asking

You lean up and kiss his cheek

“I’ll protect you Franky. I’ll protect all of us...this crew...it’s special.”

He nods, knowing exactly what you meant

“Then we’ll protect each other.”

And it was settled

Brook:

As soon as you stepped onto the ship he approached you

“Your name is y/n...correct?”

“Yup! That’s me!”

He leaned down so your…”eyes” were level with each other

“Can I see your panties?”

SLAP

“...is that a no?”

It’s safe to assume...he doesn’t judge you for being an admirable

Though seeing some of the crew be distant from you...it only motivates him to speak to you more

You looked tired after playing with the crew on deck, so he approached you

“Would you like me to play you a song to help you sleep?”

You stared wide eyed, not knowing he was the musician on the ship

“Sure! Would you...maybe be able to teach me how to play an instrument?”

“Which instrument would you like to learn?”

You hummed, “I’m not sure. I’ll get back to you on that.”

And so he played you a song

It put not only you, but Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper to sleep

He would have grinned if he could, and looked over his crewmates with love

As he finished the song he looked at you once again

“Sleep well y/n...I’ll see you tomorrow.”

[stealforreal]

Future kids - Todoroki Shoto I

Todoroki meets his children from the future. Part 2 is up now you can find it on my tumblr masters list. Or click [here]

Todoroki Shoto x F! Reader

Warnings: none

Todoroki was understandably confused. One moment he was eating his cold soba in peace and quiet, the next a little girl came barreling into him. Clinging onto his pant leg for dear life, tears streaming down her chubby cheeks. Todoroki tensed, even if he was coming out of his shell, dealing with a little child while not having complete control over his flames terrified him. What if he ended up hurting her, when he wanted to help? He refused to be like his father. hurting small children.

A small tug on his leg brought him out of his thoughts, and back to the reality that a young girl probably no older than 6 was clinging to him. He could feel his pants getting wetter by the minute, drenched in the redheaded little princess’ tears. Kneeling down to her height, he put a hand on her head and pattet it gently. It was the only form of comfort he could think of would be appropriate. “ Hey snowflake, where's your parents?” Todoroki asked the little girl, making her look up at the stranger whom she was clinging to. A small gasp escaped her lips, as she began to sob harder and cling to him even more if that was even possible. “ I-Im so so sorry daddy *sniff* I can’t find Ren” Todoroki stiffened. Daddy? He wasn’t a dad, not yet anyways. But that didn’t matter when he was comforting a young girl, so he would play along for the time being. Besides he felt drawn to the little snowflake, maybe it was the fact that she was comfortable enough to seek comfort from him. Maybe it was the fact that she looked like him, with beautiful heterochromia eyes, one classic Todoroki cerulean blue and one e/c.

“ Take a deep breath, little snowflake. Can you tell me what year it is?” His usual monotone tone, took on a softer note talking to the girl. He was kneeling at her height, rubbing small circles on her small back, while she clung to his shirt, sobbing in his chest. She looked up at him with her big mismatched doe eyes brimming with tears “ Its 20xx” okay weird that is 15 years in the future, Shoto wasn’t stupid this was probably the work of a quirk. He then proceeded to ask her if she was indeed hit by a quirk.

She told him that apparently her and her twin brother Ren, were playing with some of their friends at a park. But when they were playing tag one of their friends got their quirk, and the twins got separated. When Reina, as she told him her name was, woke up and couldn’t find her twin brother Ren she began to panic. Then she began looking for him, but then she recognized the dual colored hair and ran to him.

In between her telling the story and sniffling quitely, Shoto had picked her up. While she was calming down in his arms, he began making his way back to the campus grounds. Mr.Aizawa would hopefully know what to do, and maybe they would find Ren on the way. It broke his heart to hear her sniffle, his little snowflake crying was heart wrenching. Even if she technically wasn’t born yet, she was still his little snowflake and he would protect her no matter the cost. He was so possessive of his little girl already and he had only met her 1 hour ago, he promised himself then and there that he would be a better father than Endeavor ever was.

Her sniffles and sobs stopped, and her trembling figure relaxed in his hold. He could feel the little one's gaze on him, and he turned his head to her tilting his head a bit to ask what was wrong. “ Why do you look so young, daddy? '' She asked with the little innocent voice of an angel, he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at her question. “ Well my little snowflake, right now I’m 16 and you haven’t exactly been born yet. I’m guessing your friend's quirk is something along the lines of time travel” he patiently explained to her, she nodded her head along as if she understood him. And if she inherited his intelligence, she just might have understood what he just told her completely.

The walk back to the dorms were filled with idle chatter, Shoto asking Reina about his future and how he was as a father. To which she exclaimed with a bright toothless smile ‘Daddys the best daddy in the whole world’ and he was so relieved that he wasn’t a horrible father like his own was to him. He ended up stopping for a minute so Shoto could pepper her with small soft kisses all over her cute slightly chubby cheeks. Her squeals of excitement warmed his heart, and a soft smile made its way on his face.

To onlookers they looked like a cute set of siblings, and small aw’s and so cute were heard in the background. But inside their little bubble, nothing could burst Shoto’s happiness at knowing he wouldn’t repeat his fathers mistakes. The long walk back to the dorms felt a lot shorter with his little snowflake talking his ear off. It was adorable really, she stumbled over a few words every once and awhile. She told him all about her and Ren’s adventures, how they accidentally froze their teacher when Ren got his quirk, and how he had to come and free the teacher.

Shoto was inexplicably happy that Ren got his quirk from his mothers side. But one thing caught his attention was the mention of their mother. He realized that Reina not once had mentioned her name, and as much as Shoto would hate to admit it he was beyond curious as to who he would ultimately spend his life with. A big part of him hoped that it was you, since he had finally found out what the fuzzy feeling he had around you was. Yep Todoroki Shoto was utterly and completely enamored by you, your personality was sweet and you would do anything for family and friends. Alongside Midoriya you were his best friend, and he was in love with you.

The closer to the dorms the two Todorokis came, the more his curiosity nagged him to ask his daughter who her mother was. When he could see the height alliance building a little longer down the road, his curiosity won. “ Snowflake, you never told me your mom's name. '' Reina brightened when he asked about his future wife, a big tell that his little girl adored her mother as much as she adored her father. '' Silly daddy, mom's name is Todoroki y/n of course, ``she said giggling. A bright smile adorned his handsome features as Todoroki stepped into the dorm's living room with Reina still in his arms with her head on his shoulder.

Class 1-A consecutively looked towards the door when it opened. They were trying to calm down the child that was crying on their sofa, who also happened to look suspiciously like their dual haired classmate. The young boy had dual colored hair and cerulean blue eyes, his hair was half white and half y/h/c. The child was obviously confused and scared, and had only stopped wailing when Kaminari short circuited. But alas he was still sobbing and the class was almost out of ideas. He had been asking about his parents, and calling for a person named Reina.

There in the door stood a smiling Todoroki, holy damn was the world ending. But what also caught their attention was the little redhead in his arms hugging him, the little girl's voice reached them and their jaws dropped. “ Daddy, is this the place you and mommy met?” It was such an innocent question, but 1-A was in a frenzy, so much so that they didn’t notice the little boy springing up from the couch and dashing toward Todoroki and the girl. They only came back to earth when a small happy “Daddy” was heard.

Todoroki was about to answer Reina’s question, when he heard the little cry “Daddy”. He turned his head towards the sound and so did Reina, she began bouncing in Shoto’s arms. “ Ren '' She shouted, making Shoto bend down and extend his arm that wasn’t holding Reina. Ren launched himself into Shoto’s chest, and Reina began hugging her twin brother as much as she could in their fathers embrace. “ Don’t worry my little snowflake, daddy’s got you” He whispered softly, calming Ren immediately. The rest of the class stood gobsmacked, daddy?

“Now my little snowflakes, let's go find Mr. Aizawa, so you can go home” Shoto’s arms were full, his little boy on one arm and his little girl on his other arm. How is he supposed to open the door? “ Midoriya, would you come with me to open the door?” Shoto’s tone was monotone as always, but slightly softer in the presence of his children. Midoriya simply nodded dumbfounded, nobody said a word. What were they supposed to say, with all the daddy claims, and seeing the children in the arms of their classmate confirmed it. They looked like the spitting image of the dreamy heterochromia boy, but with some tweaks. There were the y/h/c and the girls one e/c eye, that obviously must’ve come from their mothers side.

On the way to the teacher dormitories, the twins talked excitedly with each other, while Shoto explained the situation to Midoriya. Midoriya felt like he had seen the features on the twins that certainly didn’t come from Todoroki’s side, but with how much they looked like their father it was nearly mission impossible.

Coincidentally on her way to Mr. Aizawa as well, you spotted the tuft of green hair and tufts of red and white hair. Hm, must be on their way to Mr.Aizawa as well you thought. Jogging up to them, you poked Midoriya’s shoulder. Even if you were in class 1-B, you had a pretty good friendship with the cute green haired cinnamon roll. Your quirks were similar in a sense, since yours was a boost of strength as well. Not nearly as strong as Midoriya’s, but still. That is why you were training partners, and through him you had met his friend circle. It wasn’t an unusual sight to see Midoriya and Todoroki together.

But when they turned to you, you were left flabbergasted by the two cuties in Todoroki’s arms. Before the boys could react, Ren began squirming chanting ‘mommy’. Shoto sat him and Reina down, because she too began squirming once they caught sight of you. The two children that were previously in Todoroki’s arms, now tackled you in a hug. “Daddy look, we found mommy” they said in unison. Two children around 6 years old launching at you, could make even the best of them fall on their butts. Which was exactly what happened, they were squeezing you as tight as their small forms would allow.

Choosing to ignore the small ‘mommy and daddy’ comment, you carefully scooped them up in your arms. The look that Shoto gave you was enough to go along with this little charade, he looked at the three of you like you were his entire world. His eyes were shining with happiness, and his lips quirked up in a small smile. Lightly bouncing the ecstatic but sleepy children in your arms, you turned your attention to the two males before you. “ You wouldn’t happen to need Mr.Aizawa as well, would you?” You raised a knowing eyebrow. The two boys nodded, and you began walking again towards the teachers dormitory. You sent Todoroki a small pointed glare, silently commanding him to explain the situation.

The walk to the teachers lounge felt shorter than usual, since your attention was occupied. Todoroki explained his theory that a quirk sent the twins to the past, and that the two of you were their parents. As crazy as that sounded it made so much sense, and looking at the children you would lie if you said you didn’t see the resemblance. Midoriya explained how Ren was crying before Todoroki arrived, and how confused they were when they heard the little boy yelling ‘daddy’. Ren was probably the most scared, since he didn’t recognize anyone in his panicked state. Besides, most of the students probably look a lot different in the future, so it's kind of a miracle that the twins recognized you. Shoto will always be pretty easy to recognize, with his distinct hair, eyes and the showstopping scar. It complimented the handsome teen next to you so well, no wonder he was one of UAs top heartthrobs. Stopping for a second, you just realize something. If the twins in your arms are you and Todoroki's, then that means that you ended up scoring the half-n-half quirk user. Nothing could wipe the shiteating grin that made its way on your face, eliciting concerned and curious glances from the males beside you.

Mr.Aizawa had his fair share of strange situations. He had been teaching at UA for some time, and student’s quirks weren’t always a walk in the park. Never had he ended up in a situation quite like this though, he had to rub his eyes twice to make sure it was real. In front of him were 2 out of Class-1A’s trouble makers and one of his favorite students from Class-1B, they had two small children with them. Easily recognized as twins, and they looked like the half - n- half troublemakers children.

This was going to be a long night.

[bakugohoex]

“when he put the what, in the where...”

pairing: katsuki bakugo x female reader

cw: swearing becuase its bakugo, kissing, implications

word count: 1300+

a/n: this was originally a headcanon with todoroki and shinso but i could only think of an idea for bakugo and the bakugo part was getting too long, if you guys want a todoroki and shinso version then just comment or send a request

summary: in which you’re in a secret relationship with bakugo until one fateful night in the dorms

↞ back to my hero academia masterlist

Your relationship with Bakugo would be classed as unconventional, you were dating, and every moment spent together was like paradise. Even with him not wanting to tell the class about your relationship he kept his promise to always make you feel needed and not ignored. To him you weren’t just some stupid extra.

You were his girlfriend which meant you were permanently his, you didn’t really care for people to know. As long as both Bakugo and you were happy you didn’t need other people’s feelings to interfere. And he just didn’t want stupid Deku to know to put it in his own words.

You had thought that when your relationships had gotten out that it would be on your terms, not at a Friday movie night after you and Bakugo had spent your afternoon making out.

“Katsu we have to go down soon, they’ll wonder where we’ve gone.” You were breathless with your exposed collar being bitten by Bakugo, his hands placed on your waist as you could feel the glands of sweat on his hands get hotter and hotter.

You didn’t mind the marks that his quirk left it was almost a hidden secret to the both of you, he murmured a small no as his lips travelled to another area that hadn’t been covered by his teeth, your hand had rested in his hair, as his hand moved further down.

He went past your shorts reaching your uncovered thighs as his quirk left more bruises and marks, a clear hand print evident on your waist and inner thigh. You loved seeing him on you and proving that he was yours and you were his.

Even with the lack of physical contact at school and in front of people, when in the comforts of each other’s rooms you were free to be together and be at peace.

You heard the ding of your phone knowing it was Mina asking where you were, “we really have to go down.”

“Whose fucking idea was it to have a movie night? I could’ve been sleeping or even better fucking you, but instead I’m spending my Friday evening with some dumb extras.” He huffed as he let go off your skin, he stood up towering on top as his legs were between your own legs.

“Those dumb extras are friends’ baby.” You encased his face in your hand caressing it as he put his face further into your palm.

“They’re still dumb extras.” He mutters standing up, he helped sorting the both of you out, as you still wore the shorts and a hoodie.

You both had been staring at the mirror in your room, as he got his phone checking to see the consistent messages of Kirishima asking where he was. You’d taken your phone going onto your camera as you wanted to saviour the moment of having alone time with Bakugo.

You took a couple mirror pictures, ones with Bakugo not paying attention before the last one had him grabbing your throat as he kissed your cheek, it was cute something that you wished you could post without anybody finding it

You both walked towards the elevator, holding hands until you both let go, acting as if you’d both met in the elevator, both thinking of excuses that were viable, Mina had asked for you to grab some food for everybody.

Following, you watched Bakugo sit on the couch next to Kirishima being his angry self as he called everybody extra’s. You saw pervy Mineta trying to look up the girls shirts before Momo kicked him in the chest and he fell to the ground being made to sit next to Denki and none of the girls.

“So, I heard our resident loud boy has a crush.” Mina says as she grabs some popcorn putting it in the microwave.

“Who? Bakugo?” You question knowing that must be who she was talking about.

She smirks leaning against the counter top, “Of course I mean Bakugo, Kirishima said he heard him talking on the phone last Saturday.”

You remembered the conversation; you had gone back home to visit your parents and Bakugo had been acting clingy without you there. He was alone without you and as much as he’d hate to admit it, you were the only good thing among the extras around him. He’d left consistent voice notes to you and when you finally called him after a long day out with your parents you spoke for nearly four hours.

“Can you two fucking hurry up?” You hear Bakugo shout as Koda puts the film on, you deciding to bring the food that Sato had made, mainly brownies and cookies as Mina bringing the popcorn.

“Yeah coming lover boy.” Mina shouts as the final bag of popcorn was done.

“What?” Everybody questions staring at Bakugo.

Izuku is the first one to speak cheerily, “does Kacchan have a girlfriend?”

Bakugo glared at the class, “I fucking don’t.”

To clear the silence, you walked with the brownies and cookies towards the group “Sato, the brownies smell amazing.” He thanks you as you go over to Bakugo.

“Move up then.” You sign as he rolls his eyes before letting you sit down; you had half your body on him but in the dark nobody could see.

You went up to his ear whispering, “Kiri heard you talking to someone, maybe you should be quieter lover boy.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t moan so loud then.” You could almost feel his smirk through the dark.

The movie being a boring one as everybody talked and ate, even Bakugo was engaging in the conversation mainly talking to Kirishima.

“It’s so cold.” Mina shivers in her seat.

“Here you can wear mine. I’m warm.” You offered as you stood up, Jiro putting the lights on for you to see where you would pass it too.

Standing up you pulled the hoodie off your body, wearing a tank top underneath, as you raised your arms up, your thighs were exposed, and your waist was visible.

No sound is heard, the shuffling and shouting of Mineta as if someone was covering him, as you finally take your head out of the hoodie, you pass it to Mina who just stares at you with the rest of the class.

“What’s up?” You asked as you noticed Mineta had been covered by Ojiro.

“Are those?” What you also hadn’t realised was the marks that Bakugo had left on your neck were visible to everybody. The question coming from Denki as you instinctively covered your neck with your hands.

“Nothing.” You whisper, “let’s watch the film.” Is all you say.

“Wait a minute.” Mina grabs Bakugo’s hands as she lifts the shirt up, you give a look as she puts his hand to the hand print on your waist. “That’s Bakugo’s hand print”.

“No shit Sherlock.” He says smirking as he sees his work, almost admiring it, oh how you wanted to rip that smirk off his face.

“Katsuki.” You shouted out.

“You should’ve kept your clothes on.” Is all he says

“Was that why I heard that weird noise coming from the couch a month ago?” Denki questions. 

“That was when I had to put my belt in your mouth.” Bakugo spoke reminiscing.

“When he put the what, in the where...” The classes eyes widen. 

“I fucking hate you.” You finally speak as you go to sit down next to him but instead he grabs your arm pushing you onto his body, his arm wrapping around your waist as he missed the contact you both had had hours ago.

“No you don’t.” He whispers kissing the top of your head.

Nobody asked questions they continued to watch the film as both you and Bakugo laid in each other’s arms he fell asleep holding you as if you were a bear, you smiled at his sleeping figure kissing his cheek as you snuggled up closer to him.

If you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and I’ll add you xx

@samusimp @alaina-rose13

[starglow-xx]

(About the brother!atsushi) aRE YOU READING MY MIND MISS?! Because that has been on my mind for MONTHS. TYSM For writing it was amazing!! If you don't mind, may I request (if requests are open) atsushi, still an older brother, but with a sister that's 10-13 yrs old? It's totally fine if you don't wanna do it. Keep up the good stories, ily mwuah!

*sobs* you’re so kind thank youu 🤧🤧

i wrote this a bit differently i hope that’s okay anon! at first i planned for this to be mainly abt atsushi and the reader, but i decided to add in relationship hcs with the agency bc i ran out of ideas

if you guys liked this don’t worry! im planning a special part two for this one so be the look out for it hehe

atsushi with a tween! sister

ft. the armed detective agency

like in my baby sister hcs, you’re still the most important thing to him period

the two of you got picked up by dazai and kunikida when he was 18 (obviously) and when you were 12

for a 12 year old, you were a bit small bc of malnourishment (which makes atsushi feel so bad) so both dazai and kunikida thought you were a bit younger than you actually were

they assumed you were about 9-10ish

you and atsushi both share a favorite food !! chazuke :)

so when kunikida treated the two of you, he made sure you got more bowls bc like i mentioned above, he feels really bad that you were malnourished and under weight

(don’t bring this up but kunikida felt bad too hehe)

when dazai went with your brother to the warehouse, you were with kunikida

imagine the surprise of the other ada members when kunikida came in with a little girl dressed in rags that popped out from behind him

kenji was the one who vocalized his thoughts 

“kunikida-san you have a daughter?! wow! i didn’t know that! :D”

when you found out your brother was a tiger, you were a bit concerned but you were actually kind of excited

you were even more excited when you found out the two of you were going to be taken in by the agency

anything was better than the stupid orphanage

and besides!

you got a tiger for an older brother and a bunch of other super powered agents to take care of you! who could want anything else?

at your age, you’re very impressionable and can be influenced easily so atsushi makes sure to teach you more in depth of good morals and the importance of kindness

his heart swells with pride and relief when he catches you being kind to others

pride bc he’s proud that even after all the two of you have gone through, you still ended up being a good kid and having a bright view of the world

and relief bc he hasn’t failed as a big brother

pfftt like he could ever fail

but please, from time to time reassure him that he’s perfect and the only big brother that you’d ever want bc he rlly needs that kind of validation

with his salary and savings, he tries to buy nice things for you

what a sweetheart 🥺

he saw you eyeing that one dress at a store window? fast forward abt a week and half and it’s inside a pretty gift bag for you

you wanted to try that dessert from the nice bakery? that’s dessert after dinner at one point

but other than buying you things, he sets money aside for you

like all the time

(y/n), here have this, you might need it”

“but nii-san you just gave me—”

“take it”

#1 spoiler

also your #1 confidant and source of physical affection

you tell him anything and everything (except crushies and those kinds of things)

atsushi loves it when you talk abt your day and he can see the big smile on your face and the sparkle in your eyes

it gives him the strength to keep going 😖😖

the two of you aren’t as touch starved as you’d probably think, but that’s only bc the two of you had each other

in your opinion, no one can match the hugs of your big brother

and it got even better bc YAYY he has tiger arms now ٩(◕‿◕)۶

if you ask, he’d carry you around too hehe

you also get nightmares quite often so he’ll always be there ready to calm you down, talk if you need to, and rock you back to sleep

god i love him 🤧🤧

atsushi will do everything in his power to protect you and make sure you get to grow up happy, supported, and loved

port mafia attack? oop he’s already taking you to the nearest escape route

someone is starting to harass you? they just got suckered punched into the next week

you want to go out to have some fun? he’ll go ask the president for a day off

you’re not feeling well? he’ll take another day off and take care of you

whatever you want to do, he’ll do it with you! (as long as it’s within reason)

will always be your #1 supporter! and he’s the president of your fan club hehe

he loves you so so much and will do anything for you; your life and happiness will always be more important to him

you are his reason to keep going

agency head canons !!

atsushi is your big brother, but kunikida is most definitely some sort of father figure

everyone can see it

except kunikida of course

kunikida scolds you lightly if he thinks your manners need work or if you make a mess in the agency

you listen to him of course and in turn as some sort of a reward, he’ll give you pieces of stationary

he always gives you the nice, good quality kind and you’re over the moon

atsushi adores it when you come running to him showing your new notebook or fountain pen and blabbering what you’re going to do with it

sometimes it isn’t even as a reward for being a good child; he’ll just give it to you and he’ll say smth like “i noticed you’ve used up your last notebook quite quickly, so here’s another one” or “did you run out of ink? here have this then”

he usually has a soft spot for children in general, but he most definitely has a soft spot (or a thousand) for you

yosano is kind of like a motherly figure to you

she gives you the guidance a mother should and goes on shopping trips with you!

atsushi always gets dragged along by you, but he thinks it’s worth it seeing you look so happy

yosano being a doctor also tries to teach the things you should know, or things that would be helpful to you

she’ll teach you the basics of cooking, sewing, how to treat a cold/fever, etc

also gives you excellent advice 1000% of the time

“remember (y/n)-chan if someone hurts you come tell me and then i’ll chop them into—”

“yOSANO-SENSEI DONT TELL HER THAT—”

fukuzawa is like a father to most in the agency but you see him more as a grandfather figure

bi weekly tea and gossip sessions hehe

along with cat talk!

most of the time though, it’s just you talking and him listening to you, but the two of you enjoy it nonetheless

“and then kunikida-san ended up crashing into a pole and dazai-san started to laugh at him and i did too because it was really funny but we ended up getting scolded—”

“hmm i see...”

he’ll let you stay in his office as he fills out paperwork; you’re usually doodling or drawing in your notebooks

sometimes he’ll meditate and you’ll join him, but 4/7 times you’d fall asleep

you always wake up with a blanket over you

dazai is like a cool but a highly concerning and kind of high maintenance uncle

frequently takes you out with him when he ditches work

walks in the park, eating at uzumaki so he has the excuse of treating you so he doesn’t have to pay his tab avoiding kunikida and sometimes chuuya and akutagawa, all that fun stuff

also tries to not talk abt suicide in front of you especially if it’s just the two of you alone

he knows that you mean the world to his pupil and that said pupil would probably hate him for putting suicide inside your brain

he teaches you random but useful things like how to pick a lock, how to steal kunikida’s notebook if you’re looking for some information, how to sweet talk your way out of things, etc.

is also the one to tell you that if you ever get a significant other to introduce them to the agency first

he always wants all of your gossip; some of them work pretty well for blackmail

“dazai-san! dazai-san! did you know that kunikida-san lost his glasses and he was looking for them for nearly an hour when he was just holding them the entire time??”

“woah really (y/n)-chan?! hey hey can you say it again into this recording device so kunikida-kun would believe me when i tell him—”

always ends up giving kunikida a heart attack when he says that you’ve been with him all day

ranpo is also like a cool but a highly concerning and kind of high maintenance uncle

will share some of his snacks, but don’t push it or you might not get anything at all

loves it when you compliment him

if you tagged along with him and your brother on a case, he will show off to impress you

“...and that’s how the crime happened”

“UWAHH RANPO-SAN YOU’RE SO COOL”

atsushi is lowkey and kunikida is highkey stressed that ranpo’s eating habits will rub off on you

“ne (y/n)-chan do you wanna try this highly caffeinated drink and this concerning amount of sugar filled snack?”

“can i really?!”

“rANPO-SAN NO—”

ranpo definitely does stuff like that on purpose 

the tanizakis are like siblings to you!

a weird set of siblings but siblings nonetheless

the two of them adore you and think you’re precious

atsushi definitely knows how to do your hair whether it’s long or short but he got even better at it when he asked the two

hehe braid trains are definitely a thing + kyouka and kenji (and maybe even dazai)

sometimes you have sibling swap days

you’re with junichiro for most of the day and atsushi is with naomi

strange i know

each of the tanizaki siblings try to make it fun bc they know that the two of you did not at all have a happy upbringing

junichiro likes spending time with you by taking you out to different places that naomi likes to frequent

like the mall, different stores and restaurants, the park, places like those

naomi does the same thing with atsushi so if you ever bump into them, you go out and eat together :)

besides atsushi, the next one in line who spoils you the most would be junichiro (and yosano & kunikida both coming in at a close third)

he honestly can’t help it; you remind him of how naomi was when she was younger

and besides

he’s always been a sucker when it came to the happiness of a little sister

“would you really buy this for me junichiro-san?!”

“of course! don’t worry about it” :)

wanna talk abt boys/girls/celebrity crushes things like that? naomi is your girl

you feel a bit embarrassed to go talking to yosano or your brother abt that and kyouka does not know a thing abt them either

“uwahh naomi-san look at all these people in this magazine! they look so good!”

“right?! but of course onii-sama is still the best—”

you get along with kenji and kyouka quite nicely being roughly the same age as them; they’re also like siblings!

just pure, wholesome vibes from the three of you

you’re over the moon when she finds out that kyouka is staying with you and your brother

atsushi is twice as happy seeing you talk your mouth off and finally having a girl around your age to talk to

“do you think demon snow can change how she looks?”

“hmm... im not sure...”

you and kenji talk abt anything and everything

he even teaches you how to take care of plants!

sometimes the two of you are kind of in the same boat bc you don’t know much abt yokohoma being stuck in the orphanage and kenji doesn’t know much abt cities in general

“wait where are we again kenji-san?”

“ah we’re close to the ports! but im not really sure how close because i don’t know what the symbols on this sign mean”

“don’t worry! neither do i!”

bonus things!

yosano was kind of too late teaching you abt you know what

“NII-SAN IM BLEEDING IN BETWEEN MY LEGS”

you’re sobbing in the agency’s bathroom and atsushi is panicking trying to get you to open the door

“Y/N?! H-HOLD ON LET ME GET YOSANO SENSEI”

ranpo overhears and cackles making everyone around him confused

suddenly atsushi bursts in the agency basically on the verge of tears rambling incoherent sentences abt the bathroom, you, and blood

it just clicked for everybody in the room

(im going to pretend that kenji has sisters back home so that atsushi is the only one who remain oblivious here hehe)

atsushi is genuinely confused and sort of concerned that no one is freaking out with him

yosano waves her hand saying smth like that she’d take care of it and junichiro pulls atsushi to the side to talk to him

fast forward like half and hour and dazai and ranpo are cackling on the looks of both of your faces

honestly not sure who’s more traumatized, you or your brother

“why does this have to happen” :(

“ne ne (y/n)-chan!~ you’re too young but at some point you’re not going to have it!”

“uwahh really dazai-san?” :D

“yeah! but first you have to have ANFK—”

next thing you know your ears are being covered by your brother and dazai is thrown across the room by kunikida

you know

the normal

you’re twelve and have never gone to school, but the agency takes care of that

it’s too dangerous to go to school so they teach you what’s necessary and whatever else they can

kunikida takes care of math (obviously)

yosano takes care of science/biology/anatomy/health (whatever you wanna call it)

ranpo even dragged poe to help you with english

atsushi even got lucy to help you out with english too!

as tanizaki and naomi used to be students, they give you their old work books and they try to teach you all the other subjects

sometimes kyouka and kenji are there learing with you too!

sorry if there’s some errors! i’ll read through it again later :)

and as always, reblogs and shares are appreciated! i hope you all stay safe! and just in case nobody told you they loved you today, i love you! you are enough! <3

writing belongs to me! please do not plagiarize! the reblog button is there for a reason

[sluttyten]

Adore You

Poly Orgy Series: Part 9

Poly Series Chapter Index

summary: these last months of your pregnancy bring delights and troubles, but it all culminates in the true wonder of holding your daughter in your arms with her father at your side

length: 32.4k words

tags/warnings: pregnancy, childbirth, smut, polyamory, multiple partners, foursome

Christmas approaches suddenly in a cold, dark rush of icy rain and bitter wind. You’re grateful that you finished up your Christmas shopping a bit early, so you don’t have to get out in the terrible weather, instead spending your days leading up to the holiday napping and baking and decorating the house. You were lucky enough to get those days off of work as your boss wanted to go spend the holidays in a warmer climate, so he’d given your coworkers and yourself that time off too.

The wind rushes against the windows, spraying the freezing rain up against the glass, and even as you sit in the kitchen, wrapped up like a burrito in your blanket, you shiver. 

Jisung and Chenle are helping you bake some Christmas cookies. Taeyong had been helping too, but he had to leave for work, and ever since then you’d been in your blanket at the table while decorating the cookies. Chenle was making a mess of it--the sprinkles were everywhere, somehow he’d gotten green icing smeared across his cheek, and the glittery sprinkles you’d purchased on a whim were dusted across the table rather than on the cookies. Jisung was on his third cookie (at least) after he broke it in half trying to ice it in the most complicated way.

“Noona,” Jisung says, spraying the table with cookie crumbs. He quickly covers his mouth with his hand and continues speaking, “What are your plans for Christmas? Are you going home to spend it with your parents?”

You know that the group doesn’t really get Christmas off. Dream and 127 both have to perform on Christmas Eve, and several of them have an appearance to make as NCT U on Christmas Day. It doesn’t seem fair to you that they don’t get that time off; it’s a holiday that even if they don’t truly celebrate it, then they should be able to at least take the time with their family if they so choose.

“I’ll probably visit them between Christmas and the New Year.” You tug your blanket tighter around your shoulders, reaching across the table for the red icing. You’re trying to decorate a Santa hat, but Chenle’s been hogging the red icing all to himself. “Are you going to see your family on Christmas Day?”

Jisung shrugs, looking down again at his cookie. “I’ll try.”

Chenle pops the cap off one of the containers of sprinkles, and when he turns it over, a lot more pours out than he really needed. He swears under his breath, then looks up at you with a smile. 

“Maybe I’ll just stay here and celebrate with all of you. You and the foreign members who can’t go home for Christmas.” Jisung reaches over to use some of Chenle’s spilled sprinkles. 

“I think you should probably go. Your mom will want to see you.” You place your hand on your belly, feeling as your baby moves. She’s been active today, as if she’s already got a sweet tooth and knows that you’re making cookies. She’s gotten big enough that now if you hold your hand against your belly when you feel the movement, you can feel it from the outside. It’s still not really big kicks or anything, but she’s there. 

The oven timer goes off then with the last batch of cookies, and Chenle hops up to pull them out for you. 

You’re still decorating when YangYang and Kun enter, bickering with each other. YangYang sits down beside Chenle, folding his arms as he mockingly says something at Kun. Kun rolls his eyes and instead of responding comes around the table to stand behind you. 

“Hi, baby.” He kisses the top of your head. “The cookies smell good.”

You nod and tilt your head back to look up at him. She moves again and you reach for Kun’s hand, pulling him closer to put his palm on your belly right where you felt her. None of the boys have felt her move yet. It’s like she’s shy, and any time any of them are around she doesn’t move a whole lot, not enough that they’ve been able to feel anyway.

“Can you feel her?” You ask him, moving his hand a bit more.

Kun looks concentrated, focusing on trying to feel that tiny, wonderful life inside you. 

“Hey, you.” You sigh, poking at your belly gently with your fingertip. “Are you gonna move for him?”

From across the table, YangYang speaks up, “Maybe that’s a sign it’s not Kun who’s the dad. If she won’t respond to him.”

You scowl at him. “Stop it. She’s just finally gotten comfortable, I guess.” Kun sits down beside you, and as you continue decorating, he keeps his hand on your belly, but she really doesn’t move around for him to feel.

Even a few hours later when you and the boys have cleared off the kitchen table of cookies to make room for dinner, Kun doesn’t stop touching you, staying close just in case you try to pull him to touch your belly. But you don’t, and soon WinWin, Lucas, Jungwoo, and Taeil are gathered around the table as well for dinner.

It’s only once Yuta walks in with the food, his hair dripping onto his shoulders from the rain, that Kun shifts away from you, too preoccupied with eating now to have a hand on you.

You always love moments like this, casual mealtimes with your boyfriends and the younger boys gathered around, everyone eating and talking and laughing, just having a good time. If you could freeze a moment like that, tie it up nicely with a bow, you could hand it out as happiness. A nice, relaxed warmth fills you as you look around and soak in the moment. Yuta is animatedly telling a story while Taeil and WinWin laugh so hard that WinWin’s nearly in tears, and you feel her moving again, a soft kick, a lovely giddy feeling rising within you. But you don’t interrupt them all, saving this moment to yourself, adding it into the bundle of happiness you’re feeling.

Christmas morning you wake in bed with Doyoung. In your bed. The night before, you’d been watching a drama his brother was in, Doyoung’s head down near your belly, talking to the baby. You’d fallen asleep like that while Doyoung was singing along to the drama’s OST quietly for the baby.

And now his head was beside yours, his face so smooth and peaceful in sleep. You want to touch him, to run your fingers through his hair which is dyed a soft shade of purple at the moment, to lay your fingers against his soft cheek, kiss his lips. 

His eyes move beneath his eyelids, his lips part, and Doyoung sighs. You close your eyes quick when you see that he’s waking up, and after a moment, Doyoung shifts. You can hear him lift his head from the pillow, can feel his eyes on you.

You feel a nudge from inside your belly. You’re awake now it seems because she’s awake. She stirs inside you, and you try to keep your facial expression from shifting.

“I know you’re not sleeping.” Doyoung’s fingertips skim down your cheek. “You can stop pretending.” 

You open one eye to peek at him. “Good morning. Merry Christmas.” 

“Merry Christmas and good morning, babygirl.” Doyoung’s knuckles rest adoringly against your cheek. “I’ve missed sleeping with you. Maybe we shouldn’t have gotten rid of the big bed in here because this bed’s a tight enough squeeze for two people. What are we going to do after the baby’s born? When she’s older and wants to sleep with mommy?”

“We’ll make it work.” You turn your head to the side and brush your lips against Doyoung’s wrist. “And, for what it’s worth, I’ve definitely missed sleeping with you too. Sleeping with you and, well, sleeping with you.”

“Remember last Christmas?” Doyoung sighs wistfully, blinking sleepily and resting his head again on the pillow. “You, me, Kun and Ten. That sexy lingerie.” His eyes rake over your figure now, and you can’t help feeling self-conscious. Now you’re all big and pregnant; Doyoung hasn’t touched you for months now, and you can’t help thinking that he’s turned off by you like this, by the whole pregnancy. 

Self-consciously, you brush your hands down over your belly, tugging at the hem of the oversized shirt. 

Doyoung’s hand lands on your belly too. Your heart leaps and at the same moment you feel your baby kick.

You gasp and your gaze darts to Doyoung’s face. “Did you feel that?”

Doyoung frowns, moving his hand. “Did she kick?”

“You didn’t feel it?” Your delight at the feeling is somewhat lessened. Still, none of your boyfriends have felt her kick. You’d thought for sure that Doyoung would have felt it since he was touching you. He shakes his head sadly. “I think she’s shy. I swear she moves around all the time, I can feel her, and I’d think you guys would be able to feel her now too if she would actually do it when any of you have your hands on my belly.”

“It would be a nice Christmas present, if we could feel her too.” Doyoung sits up, shifting around so he’s kneeling beside you, and he places both of his hands on your belly, and his next words are clearly addressed to your daughter. “Hey, little angel, can’t you just give us a kick? I promise your mom won’t be mad at you for it. I just want to say hi.”

But she’s settled already, it appears. 

Doyoung groans as he falls down beside you again, turning his face into the pillow. “Your cat doesn’t like me. Your daughter doesn’t like me.” He opens one eye to look at you as he asks, “You still like me, right?”

“Yes, Doyoung,” you laugh, leaning into him to kiss him reassuringly. “I still like you. And don’t feel bad. Miso doesn’t like anyone, except Ten, but he’s got a way with cats, doesn’t he? And this little one she doesn’t seem to like anyone either. Just the other day she was kicking me and then as soon as I tried to get Kun to feel her, she stopped.”

Doyoung seems satisfied with that. He rolls onto his back, but not before putting a warm hand on your belly. “Maybe I should call our manager, tell her I’m feeling sick and can’t do the schedule today. I could stay here all day, hands on your belly to feel her. I can’t believe I didn’t feel her just now.” He frowns again.

There’s a soft knock on your door and it opens. Yuta peeks his head around, his gaze falling on Doyoung and then on Doyoung’s hand. He’s inside before you get the chance to greet him, already settling on the edge of the bed, his hand joining Doyoung’s now.

“Is she moving?” He asks, unable to conceal the excitement in his voice.

You shake your head. “She did move. But he didn’t feel her. I’m telling you, she’s shy.”

Yuta snorts and shakes his head. “Shy? Where’s she get that from? You’re not really shy. Maybe Taeyong’s the dad, he’s always shying away from touches. Or WinWin or Mark.” He puts another hand on your belly, concentrating like he can telepathically communicate with your baby to get her to kick for them.

“Oh?” A new voice speaks up from the doorway.

You look up from the sight of Yuta and Doyoung’s hands on your belly, an unavoidable smile on your lips, and you find WinWin. He’s got a blanket draped around his shoulders, his eyes drooping sleepily.

“Yuta hyung?” He says, and it’s only then that Yuta looks up.

Yuta jumps to his feet. “Sorry, WinWin. I didn’t want to wake you up.” He looks back at Doyoung. “We have to leave soon. I was just coming to tell you. And Merry Christmas, princess.” He dips in to kiss your cheek. You sit up, half-tempted to pull him into a longer kiss, but Yuta’s already moving away, so you lean back, your back resting against the soft pillows you have propped against the headboard.

Doyoung nods, and then he too is leaving you with a last kiss. WinWin steps out of the way as Yuta walks out, and he stifles a yawn with the back of his hand while Doyoung passes. He starts to turn to leave, but you call his name.

“It’s still early, come sleep here.” You pat the mattress beside you, the sheets still warm from Doyoung. WinWin shuffles inside, kicking the door softly shut behind him, and he flops face-first into your bed. You stroke the fringe of hair on his forehead. “Were you sleeping in Yuta’s room?”

WinWin nods. “Yeah, we were talking last night. About the baby, and the others and you and stuff.” His eyes shoot open and he looks at you. “Not anything bad! I promise. I just realized how that sounded. We were just thinking out loud about the future, really.”

“Like what?”

WinWin pulls his blanket up over his head. “Just saying that we both can picture a future with you. A long future.” 

You sink down beside him, lifting the edge of the blanket so you can see his face. WinWin closes his eyes. “You don’t have to tell me, but I think I’d like to hear about your dream plans about our future together. Please?”

WinWin tries to hide a smile. 

“Please?” You beg, slipping your hand under the blanket, searching for his skin, and you dip your toes beneath as well, making contact with his bare legs.

He whines and groans, wiggling as if to get away, but you notice that instead he moves closer, that he traps your hands in his and covers your chilly toes with his blanket. “Fine, I’ll tell you. But, God, your fingers and toes are icy.”

You smile as WinWin folds your hands between his and he turns completely onto his side to face you. You whisper, “Tell me.”

“I can see myself happy with you,” WinWin starts off saying, “I don’t really know how to describe it, but I can picture us with the baby, raising her, going on trips together, to China to visit my family, and maybe having more kids, being happy and in love. I don’t know, I think about the future and I just see you. Like, my career here isn’t a certainty, at some point my contract with SM will run out and I don’t know yet what will happen after that, but I know I still want you there with me. I want to raise our daughter with you, to be there for everything, to help you and support you, to love you and her. 

“This is the kind of stuff Yuta hyung and I were talking about. The future is dark and scary and uncertain,” WinWin’s voice is unsteady, but he stares into your eyes. “But both of us think that having you here will make everything make sense and make it easier. I just want you to be here with me. You make me feel good, like happy and all kinds of fuzzy emotions that I don’t know how to put into words.” He bites at the corner of his mouth for a second, and then he sighs, “I love you.”

“And I love you.” 

You lean in and kiss him, and WinWin happily kisses you back, nice gentle kisses that could last for ages.

The more you think about it, the more you can envision that future WinWin was talking about. Obviously you’ve thought about a future with each of the boys individually before, but also you’ve considered futures together with them all, but especially after that talk, you really think realistically about it.

In just about 4 months you’ll have a baby. A real, live baby out here in the world, depending on you to feed her, clothe her, take care of her physical and emotional well-being. You have to consider her in every single decision you make. 

WinWin dozes back off to sleep away the morning, and you snuggle in to the blankets, planning to sleep, but you just keep thinking about your future, seeing the boys fit into it.

You see WinWin, cradling your daughter in his arms, her tiny little hand curled around his little finger as he beams down at her with such adoration in his eyes. You see WinWin taking naps with your daughter on his chest, see him sitting with her when she’s older, letting her host a tea party and stick glittery sequins on his face and hands. 

And you can picture the others in situations like this too. Yuta, Doyoung. Yuta kisses her scrapes when she falls down. Yuta dancing silly dances with her in front of the mirror. Doyoung rocking her to sleep in his arms while he sings her lullabies, and napping quietly together with her. You can see Jaehyun carrying your giggling daughter on his shoulders, laughing even as she twists her small chubby hands into his hair and tugs. You can imagine Kun holding her on his lap and playing the piano with her fingers under his, and you can imagine waking up to breakfast in bed cooked by Kun and your daughter. Jungwoo chasing her around in a park with both of them laughing; Taeil singing her to sleep in his arms; Mark being so incredibly gentle with her tiny newborn body. You can see all of them.

“Baby?”

You see Johnny holding your toddler daughter in his arms, zooming her around like she’s flying, him holding her little hands while she stands on his feet as they dance together.

“Baby, wake up.” 

You start awake, WinWin’s hand slipping from your shoulder.

The room’s full of bright sunlight, the day already well on its way toward the mid-point. The blankets are twisted around your legs, your shirt you were sleeping in has ridden up over your belly, and WinWin’s now dressed in a warm looking hoodie and a pair of jeans.

“Mm, what?” You yawn. 

WinWin touches your hair, smoothing it down where it sticks up in the back. “Your parents are here.”

“What?” You’re suddenly wide awake, throwing the covers off, and standing on your bare feet on the cool floor. “My parents are here? How long have they been here?”

WinWin shrugs. “Well, it was probably about ten minutes ago when Kun hyung ran in here and practically dragged me out of your bed. He said he was making Christmas breakfast when Jaemin answered the door, and it was your parents. I got dressed, and had to pretend like I wasn’t in your room. But, yeah, Kun distracted them with breakfast to keep them downstairs, and he told them he sent someone to wake you up. I’ve been trying to wake you for, like, two minutes. You were out.”

“Oh my God.” You hurry to pull on some pajama pants and Doyoung’s sweatshirt he’d been wearing the night before. “Why wouldn’t they tell me they were stopping by? Rude.”

WinWin smiles, leaning against the door, watching you try your best to look presentable. “They brought you a present. Merry Christmas, by the way.”

As you come down the stairs, you see your mother warily watching Lucas coming down the stairs ahead of you. He’s shirtless, his sweatpants low on his hips. His eyes are half-closed with sleep, his fingers running through his extremely messy hair, and his large rib tattoo on full display. She looks less than approving of the sight.

“Lucas,” you whisper as you pass by him, a hand on his shoulder, “Cover up, please.” 

He blinks, and then, for the first time, sees your mother. Lucas grins sheepishly, grabs a blanket from the back of the sofa, and drapes it around his shoulders. 

“Mom, Dad!” You walk over, hugging your mother. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming by?”

“We wanted to surprise you.” She smiles, and as you step back, she looks around at the boys that seem to be gathering. “I’m sorry, I guess I didn’t realize all of these boys live here all the time. I would have brought more presents if I’d known. Why aren’t they celebrating with their families?”

Mostly, the boys that are around you are the WayV members, but Jaemin and Jisung are hanging around too. You know they have a schedule later on in the day, so you explain that to your mother, and then say, “Kun, WinWin, and Lucas are all from China. They can’t go home just for the holiday. None of them have gone home, several of them have to work today.”

As you say that, Taeyong comes zooming down the stairs, his coat half on, and he pauses at your side already leaning in as if to kiss your cheek when he spots your parents. He quickly covers by whispering in your ear instead, a quick, “See you later, love you.” And then he hurries over to where Haechan and Taeil are standing near the door.

“Is Johnny working today?” Your dad asks. You notice he’s nibbling at something that looks suspiciously like one of the cookies Jisung had decorated the other day. “Our present is kinda a present for both of you. We wanted you to open it together.”

He glances toward the stairs where a drowsy Hendery is stumbling his way down, also dressed in only his boxers and a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. You briefly close your eyes and sigh. Why can’t these boys wear clothes? It’s freezing outside and you have surprise guests. 

Your mother clears her throat.

“Johnny’s also working today. He should already be gone.” You glance around at the other boys, hoping one of them will confirm or deny if he’s already gone.

“Johnny hyung’s got a lot of presents today.” Jaemin comments from where he’s sitting on the sofa. He points at a box sitting by the TV. “That was delivered while we were waiting for you to come down. I think it’s from America.” He walks over to it and cranes his neck, trying to read the label. 

You turn your attention back to your parents. “I wish you would’ve let me know you were coming over. I would have dressed up a little better.” You bunch up the sleeves of Doyoung’s sweatshirt in your hands. You feel sloppy with the sweater paws and the oversized pajama pants, your hair unkempt. But your mother smiles. “What?”

“Nothing.” She glances at your father with a soft smile, and he smiles back at her. “You’ve just got that lovely pregnancy glow going. And we are sorry about the surprise intrusion. Your father told me we should’ve called ahead to make sure you were awake, that you were ready to accept a visit.”

“And to make sure Johnny was here. I’ve been wanting to have a word with him about his intentions with you.” Your father pitches his voice lower as he ends that sentence, but nevertheless, you’re sure that every ear in the house is tuned in to the conversation. Out of the corner of your eye, you see several heads snap in your direction. 

“His intentions?” You ask. “Dad, this isn’t a new relationship, I’m already pregnant. What do you mean?”

Now your father looks around at the others. You see WinWin duck his head, pretending like he’s not listening. In the kitchen Kun’s standing there, slicing nothing on the cutting board, but suddenly looking very focused on the task. Lucas and Hendery are whispering to each other. Only Jaemin doesn’t pretend like he’s not listening. 

“I know when you told us about this, we said we understand that you’re a modern woman, but at the same time, we just want what’s best for you.” Your father says, spreading his hands out in such a dad gesture. “Being an unmarried mother, it’s still not a good thing, even in times like this. I think, since he got you pregnant, he should marry you to provide for you and his daughter.”

“Dad!” You exclaim. 

There’s a sound like something breaking in the kitchen, and Kun’s hushed swearing in Chinese. 

Your mother and father say your name in a warning, calming tone. 

“No,” you tell them, “I’m not going to marry Johnny. Not just because you think I should. That would be stupid.” 

Now, both of your parents suddenly look uncomfortable with the audience of the other boys. Maybe they should’ve thought about that before bringing this up in front of them. “Maybe we should go talk about this in private?” Your mom suggests.

You shake your head no. “Whatever you want to say, you can say it here in front of all of them.” You put a hand over your belly. “Strange as it may be for you to hear, all of them are going to be a part of my future too. So they should hear what you have to say.”

“We can’t tell you how to live your life--” your mother starts, and you cut her off.

“You’re right about that.” You walk away, heading into the kitchen. “I think, for the sake of today being a happy holiday, we should drop that subject.”

Kun looks at you, his gaze searching yours. You’re fine, you want to tell him, you can tell that’s what he’s looking at you like that for. 

“We have plenty of food,” you tell your parents over your shoulder. “You’re welcome to stay for breakfast. Kun’s a great cook.” You slide into place beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder, and you stare at your parents, wondering if they notice the closeness, the way that Kun shifts into your gravity, relaxes under your touch. If either of them notices, they don’t say anything. 

They decide not to stay for breakfast with all of you, but they do stay long enough for you to open the present they brought and for you to send Renjun running up to your bedroom to grab the presents you have for your parents. Their gifts from you to them are just simple yet heartfelt gifts, things you know they’d like. 

And then you open the gift from them, wrapped with care in pretty paper that you feel bad to tear into. 

It’s a frame with a print of a soundwave, and it’s only when you read the words beneath that you realize what it is.

“Is this her heartbeat?” You cover your mouth, placing your other hand on your belly. “How did you do this?”

Your mother smiles warmly. “Well, you sent me that recording of the heartbeat from your first appointment, so I just used that for the company that makes these. Do you like it?” 

You do. 

Several of the boys crowd in around the back of the chair where you’re sitting looking down at the waves of your baby’s heartbeat. When you stand up, moving the frame aside so you can go hug your parents again, Ten takes the frame from you, studying the image, but you’re already wrapping your arms around your parents, trying your best not to break out in tears (and failing).

 It takes a while to get you to calm down even after your parents have left and half of the boys in the house are settling down to eat the Christmas breakfast that Kun prepared. 

“Hey,” Ten coos, wiping at your tears gently. “If you stop crying you can eat. There’s no way you’ll be able to taste Kun’s great cooking with all these tears.” He pulls his sleeves down over his hands and dabs at the fresh tears. “Babe, why are you crying so much, it’ll make me cry.” 

You just drop your head onto his shoulder and sniffle. You don’t know why you’re crying so much, but you can’t stop. So Ten just wraps his arms around you, holding you, rubbing your back until at last your tears run dry. He kisses your cheeks and then your lips, and leads you by hand to the kitchen table.

“We’ll hang it up in your room tomorrow, after everyone’s had a look at it, how’s that sound?” Kun asks, squeezing your knee reassuringly beneath the table. 

The rest of your Christmas runs smoothly and happily. After eating breakfast (which was really delicious, you later that day pay your compliments to the chef by kissing Kun, drawing him into the shower with you), much of the rest of the day is spent on the sofa down in the living room watching Christmas movies, snacking on the Christmas cookies you’d made, and the boys pass in and out of the house, heading to work, coming home.

By nightfall, most of them are home again. Snow is falling thickly outside. Renjun’s finally managed to befriend Miso by tossing bits of popcorn for your cat to chase (in an attempt to distract him from destroying the ornaments glittering on the tree in the corner of the room), and you rest your head on Jaehyun’s chest, his hand resting on your belly, everyone waiting for the last few boys to arrive home so you can all truly celebrate Christmas with an exchange of gifts.

You’re nearly asleep, lulled by the sound of the others talking, the warmth and comfort of being bundled up with Jaehyun, his hand a gentle weight on your baby bump, and you finished eating not too long ago.

You’ve quite literally just dropped off when something makes you jolt awake again.

At first you think it’s Jaehyun because he’s suddenly moved, sitting more upright, his hands around you. Then you think maybe you just startled yourself awake as sometimes happens when you suddenly drop off to sleep, and the movement of you waking is why Jaehyun’s like this. Then you realize he’s speaking, his voice excited and startled.

You put one of your hands over Jaehyun’s, and you feel it again. A sharp kick from your womb, nudging right against Jaehyun’s hand.

He swears.

Everyone else in the room is looking now, and it takes a few moments longer for them all to realize what was happening.

Jaehyun wraps his arms around you, both hands on your belly as your daughter moves again. He’s grinning widely, and when Taeil stumbles over himself trying to get close enough that he can feel too, Jaehyun selfishly tries to keep you and your moving baby all to himself.

“Of course Jaehyun’s the one to feel the baby first.” Ten rolls his eyes from where he’s leaning against Kun on the other side of the room. “His jealousy wouldn’t let anyone else feel her first.”

“It’s not like he did it on purpose, or like I did it on purpose.” You reach for Taeil’s hand as he sits on the edge of the sofa, and you bring his hand to your belly. “Jaehyun, let the others feel too. Don’t be stingy.”

He doesn’t really move his hand too far away, but just enough away that you can press Taeil’s hand to where she’s moving. Lucas comes closer as well.

Half the room is still gathered around you when Johnny, Mark, Yuta, and Doyoung come home. 

“Ugh, not fair!” Mark groans, kicking off his shoes and dropping his stuff on his way to join the mass of boys around you. “The baby’s kicking and we missed it?” He shoulders his way between Jungwoo and Hendery, “Has everyone felt her moving?”

Hendery shakes his head sadly. “I’m starting to agree that she’s shy. Jaehyun hyung and Taeil hyung felt her moving. Xiaojun swears he felt her, and Lucas too, but after them, we haven’t felt her.”

Jaehyun’s still got his arms wrapped around you securely, jealously. He covers your hands with his because you’ve still got your hands on your belly, trying to feel her moving so you can let the others feel her, but she’s fallen asleep again.

Doyoung pouts as he comes over. “That was meant to be my Christmas present this morning. She kicked while we were in bed earlier, but I didn’t feel it then.” 

You pat Jaehyun’s hand, getting him to let you up, and then you point at the box that was delivered that morning for Johnny. “That’s for you, Johnny. And my parents dropped by this morning. They got us a present, too.” You stand and move over to where you’d propped the frame from your parents against the wall, and you turn it around to the room.

“Woah, is that her heartbeat?” Mark squints as if he can’t quite tell. 

You nod enthusiastically. “My mom took the recording of the heartbeat from my first appointment, made this for us. Isn’t it wonderful?” 

Taeyong bites at his bottom lip, his eyes wide and softening as he looks at the rises and falls of your daughter’s visual heartbeat. You sit the frame back down lightly on the floor, facing the room so they can all still see it, but you go sit back down beside Jaehyun who immediately clings to you again, hands on your belly.

You can tell from the way he’s touching you now, gently pressing against your belly, he’s hoping to feel her again. But then as the others all settle into the room, as talk turns to exchanging gifts and presents begin to be pulled out from under the tree (where you’d made each of the boys wrap gifts and sit them--the resulting mountain of presents was very satisfying, like a Christmas dream come true), Jaehyun gets even touchier.

With his fingers low on your baby bump, he starts drawing his fingers in a distracting circle. You’re sitting right on his lap, back to his chest, his chin tucked over your shoulder, and occasionally Jaehyun drops his lips against your shoulder. 

“Stop it,” you whisper to him when he kisses your shoulder for the fifteenth time, his fingers still tracing that circle, and now he’s got a hand rubbing your thigh. You don’t want to feel horny right now, but Jaehyun’s definitely working you up to it. He turns his head, lips brushing your throat and you can feel that he’s smiling. “Jaehyun, I’ll go sit with Doyoung instead if you don’t.”

Reluctantly, he lifts his head with a sigh, and he tucks both of his arms behind his head with another long drawn out sigh.

You start to slide off his lap into the open space right beside him, but Jaehyun starts to voice a complaint, trying to keep you there.

The look you give him has him keeping his hands to himself, dragging a decorative pillow into his lap instead.

Xiaojun welcomes you sitting between him and Jaehyun. Presents are passed around, gifts that they bought for each other, for you, gifts sent here from their families, and gifts you bought for them. Someone breaks out the Christmas cookies. Several of them open some wine. Gift opening takes a while, the room is a sea of torn wrapping paper, empty boxes floating on it all like lifeboats. YangYang and Haechan double-over in laughter as they wrap Jeno in a long ribbon one of their gifts had come wrapped with. 

Johnny opened his package that had arrived that day, and it turns out to be a collection of candy and snacks from America one of his friends in Chicago had sent him. 

“Sweet!” Mark dives into it, pulling out a candy you don’t recognize, and after that the others are digging through it too, quickly sampling all that Johnny’s package has to offer. Mark settles on the ground at your feet, unwrapping the candy, and when he slips it over the tip of his finger you realize that it’s a Ring Pop, a lollipop fashioned into a diamond mounted on a plastic ring base.

Mark grins as he pops it into his mouth. He sucks on it for just a second then looks up at you, pleased when he sees you’re already looking at him. He takes your hand from where it sits on your knee.

“Remember?” Mark asks, tapping his finger against the base of your ring finger.

Of course you remember Mark proposing to you. You also remember promising him that no matter what you’ll be in each other’s lives. You also remember that you have hidden that proposal from all of the other guys, and you’re pretty sure Mark has too. You pray he doesn’t attempt a reenactment here with this ring.

Jaehyun, already in his possessive mood since you’ve spent the majority of the evening cuddling with him and since he had the privilege to feel your daughter moving first, immediately perks up and stares.

“Remember what?” He asks.

Mark laughs and shakes his head, dropping your hand and edging away. “Nothing, Jaehyun.”

But now several of the others are looking, and it’s Ten who notices Mark’s candy and the way he’d held your hand. With a laugh, he asks, “What, did Mark ask you to marry him or something?”

The way he asked, it was clear that Ten meant it as a joke. Several of the others start laughing right away, but when everyone notices the way that you and Mark both go still and awkward, the room falls silent except for one person.

“What the fuck?” Jaehyun stands up, glaring down at Mark who scrambles to his feet. “You asked her to marry you? When? Why?” He takes a step forward, and in Mark’s panicked rush to step away from Jaehyun’s jealousy, he takes a few steps back, slips on torn wrapping paper, and windmills his arms before crashing down into WinWin and Hendery.

Jaehyun takes another step forward, and you push to your feet.

“Do I need to restrain you or something?” You ask, squeezing your fingers into the muscle of Jaehyun’s arm.

Yuta laughs, a wonderful sound in this otherwise very tense situation. “I’d love to see that.”

Jaehyun glares at Yuta, and it takes another few seconds of you digging your fingers into his arm and tugging to get him to sit back down again. 

“Don’t be so dense, Jaehyun. And the rest of you.” You let up your grip on his arm. Jaehyun clenches his hand into a fist again, so you cover his hand with yours, doing your best to pry his fist apart, slip your fingers inside. “Stop being so possessive. I obviously didn’t say yes to Mark. Have you seen a ring on my finger? Do you really think I would say yes to marrying one of you without talking it out with the others first? No.”

You look around at all of them.

Jaehyun isn’t alone in staring at Mark with anger in their eyes. It’s obvious that Mark had neither discussed his impromptu proposal with any of them, nor had he told them about it afterward.

“I told Mark no. Relax, everyone.” You shake your head in disbelief that this evening, which had been so happy and warm moments before, had now dissipated into a cold and tense atmosphere. 

“When did that happen?” Taeil asks, and his face is so serious, his expression tight, you don’t hesitate to answer.

“Just a few days after we all found out I was pregnant. I told him no right away.”

Mark nods, wincing and rubbing at his arm. “She did. She also slapped me, if that makes you all feel better.”

“It does a little,” Jaehyun mumbles. “But why would you do that, Mark? Did you not even consider all the toes you’d be stepping on? There’s thirteen other guys in this relationship.”

As if just wanting to feel included in the conversation, Jaemin says, “Yeah, Mark. That’s at least a hundred toes that you were stepping on.” But when Mark frowns in his direction, Jaemin slumps back into Jeno where the two of them, Renjun, and YangYang are seated on the floor.

“I didn’t say yes, though. Mark and I talked about it afterwards, like why he thought it was a good idea, and I get it.” You look over at him, and then look around the room, your gaze meeting Jungwoo’s, Taeyong’s, Kun’s. “But like I said, I won’t marry one boyfriend without at least talking about it with the rest of you first.”

This wasn’t the Christmas present that you wanted. A fight. It was meant to be a happy holiday.

“Why don’t we all calm down.” Taeyong stands up, then he bends over and starts gathering up nearby scraps of wrapping paper. “Let’s clean up all this mess, and then we can play games. You said you wanted us to try games, right?” He asks you, and you nod. 

You’d been talking about Christmas for weeks leading up to tonight. You wanted a nice, family Christmas. That’s why you’d decorated the house, made them wrap presents, and now you wanted to all sit around and play games with each other and snack on Christmas cookies and the snacks from Johnny’s box.

Doyoung jumps up to help Taeyong with cleaning, and soon others join in. The paper goes in a trash bag, boxes are disposed of. Several of the guys carry their unwrapped gifts up to their rooms. The room’s cleared soon, and everyone settles back into their spots with snacks and drinks and happier attitudes.

The rest of the evening passes happily with only minor disputes related to the games, and as the hour grows later and later, you start to nod off, your head on Taeil’s shoulder.

You definitely don’t mean to fall asleep down there on the sofa instead of in your much more comfortable bed, but at some point your heavy eyes sink shut and don’t open again until much later.

Your head is still on Taeil’s shoulder when you again wake, but he’s asleep now. 

Someone must’ve just turned the lights off in the now nearly empty living room. Besides you and Taeil, Jungwoo’s asleep on the other sofa. Ten’s awake still, sitting in the armchair on his phone with the brightness turned low, probably to not wake up Taeyong who’s squeezed into the chair beside him, his head resting against the back of the chair.

There’s the sound of someone climbing the stairs, soft voices. A light on the second floor landing goes out, and you shake yourself fully awake.

Taeil stirs a little, but when you stand up, he remains asleep. Ten, however, looks up from his phone. 

“Goodnight,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Thank you for my present.”

Ten picks up your hand in his, gently squeezing. “Thank you for mine. Are you going to bed?”

You nod and stifle a yawn. “Merry Christmas, Ten.”

“Merry Christmas. Goodnight.” He brushes his thumb over your knuckles before releasing your hand. 

You climb the stairs slowly. Your back aches and your limbs are heavy with tiredness. Whose idea was it to put your room on the top floor of this house? 

As you reach the top floor, you see a strip of light around the bathroom in the hallway, hear voices coming from inside, and you intend to tiptoe past it, but as you do, you hear your name. You pause, unable to keep yourself from eavesdropping, especially once you recognize the voices as Jaehyun’s and Mark’s. 

“I’m sorry,” Jaehyun apologizes, “Mark, I shouldn’t have reacted like that earlier.” He sighs heavily. “I know I act like a jealous dick over her a lot, and you always call me out on that, as you should. I just, when I thought about you doing that, about her giving up on a future with the rest of us, it broke something in me.”

“But she didn’t, man.” Mark’s voice sounds a little strange, and it’s only after you hear him spit into the sink that you realize that they’re having this conversation while brushing their teeth. “Literally, the second that the question was out of my mouth she shut me down, told me I was being stupid. I know it was stupid too, is the thing. Why do you think neither she or I ever mentioned it to any of you guys?”

“Figured you were embarrassed.” Jaehyun laughs. “God, honestly, Mark. What were you thinking?”

Mark groans. “I was raised by a proper by-the-books family! She’d just told us she was pregnant. So I was going to marry her, make sure that she has a husband to help her with the baby.”

“And what are the rest of us?” Jaehyun’s voice is amused, but there’s still a dark edge to it that you’re sure Mark doesn’t miss either. “Do you honestly think that she won’t have all of us to help her after the baby’s born? That once we find out which of us is the father the rest of us are going to leave? If you’re not the father, are you going to break up with her.”

You don’t hear Mark verbally give an answer, but Jaehyun chuckles.

“No, didn’t think so.” Things are quiet between them for a few seconds, and just as you’re about to continue on to your bedroom, Jaehyun speaks up again. “I would never tell her this, but last week I was talking about the paternity with Lucas and Taeyong while we were taking a break from practice. Taeyong said he’d been doing the math, some research, and from what he found of timelines online and what he can remember of who she was with around that exact date he found using a calculator, he thinks it’s probably you, Johnny, Lucas, or Jungwoo.”

You’ve done your own research and listened to what your doctor said. You know the probable date of conception. You remember that you probably did have sex with most of the guys within that window of time around that date of conception. You also remember that there are a few that you probably didn’t have sex with, or if you did they didn’t cum inside you.

But you also definitely remember that of those four that Jaehyun just listed, you did definitely have sex with them. Multiple times.  

Jaehyun starts speaking again. “Lucas said he’s talked to her about the paternity before, and that he kinda hopes it’s not him.”

“Shit,” Mark swears. “What did she say?”

“That whoever the biological father is is going to be in the baby’s life no matter what, even if he doesn’t think he’ll be a good dad.” There’s the rushing sound of the faucet turned on, water splashing in the sink. “He told Taeyong and I that if he’s not the dad, he’s not too sure he’ll be able to stick around.”

Mark swears again.

Fuck, you wish you would have walked away, that you hadn’t stopped to listen. So you move now before you can hear anything else. 

Lucas really doesn’t want to be a dad. He can’t even entertain the possibility of being a father to your baby if he’s not genetically invested in it?

As you sink into your bed, drawing the sheets up to your chin, all you can do is replay Jaehyun’s words, replay that day you’d had that conversation with Lucas--a picnic date that had turned naughty just moments after that serious conversation--and your mind runs in circles, playing back Lucas’s hands on your skin, your mouth on his, his laughter in your ears.

For the first time in months and months, you have that feeling of the bottom of your stomach dropping, a dark pit opening up. 

Someday this relationship as a massive polyamorous thing is going to reach its end. Boyfriends will step away. Some will stay, but eventually some will leave. You’ve always known this. It’s why you broke up with them earlier that year, but the gravity of them had brought you back.

It hurts to think about, to know that you love them all so much, but maybe this love is going to have to change.

The last few days of the year pass quickly, and then you’re hosting a New Year’s Eve party at the house with the boys who aren’t attending Gayo Daejejeon, some of your friends in attendance as well as some of their friends. 

Your friends socialize with the boys, growing more comfortable with them. You’re not even surprised when one of your friends really gets along well with Lucas, and you watch the two of them laughing and throwing back shots together with Jaehyun. And most of your friends take this opportunity to try once more to dig out the truth from them about which of them is the one that you’re in a relationship with. They don’t tell you, but you’re pretty sure that they’re all waiting for midnight, for the moment to see which of the boys will be your New Year’s kiss.

So at midnight you continue to try to make it confusing for your friends by kissing every single one of the boys there. You just kiss them on the cheek. Taeil, Kun, Lucas, Renjun, Doyoung, Taeyong, Xiaojun, Chenle, and Jaehyun all receive a kiss on the cheek from you in those moments after midnight. Kun received his kiss first along with an enthusiastic round of “happy birthday” cheers from around the room. 

And when the others arrive home in a flood of happiness and cheers of “Happy New Year!” you kiss them all as well, surprising some of the Dream members who certainly hadn’t expected it, and disappointing a few of your boyfriends who were expecting a full kiss but only got a peck on the cheek.

Your friends are sufficiently confused by your kissing of so many of the members, and they persistently question you about which of them is the father. They even make guesses based off of how you act with the boys, which you find extremely funny after one of your friends pulls you aside to ask if the father is Renjun because you’d been goofing around with him for most of the party.

By the time the party ends a few hours later, you’re exhausted and achy, but you’re happy to have rung in the New Year with the boys and with your friends. You already know this year is going to be a great one, with the birth of your daughter already taking the number one spot.

Everyone leaves the party mess downstairs to be cleaned up tomorrow, and then there’s a drunken parade of boys climbing the stairs to bed. Taeyong has to be carried up to bed by Johnny because he over-indulged in the after-show drinks and then even more once they arrived home.

And you’d thought you’d be going to bed alone, but as you start to climb the final flight of stairs to the top floor, a hand comes to rest on your lower back.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” Kun asks softly. “Lucas snores horribly when he’s drunk.”

“Just to warn you, I think I’ve been snoring lately too,” you admit. “But of course you can sleep with me.” 

Kun laughs, but you’re serious. Lately you’ve started snoring badly, and when you looked it up because it was kinda concerning when Taeyong woke you the other night, grumbling because your snoring was making it difficult for him to sleep, it turns out that it’s just another pregnancy symptom.

But Kun snuggles into bed with you, kissing your belly as you settle in. “Goodnight, little angel. Don’t kick your mommy too much, just dream tonight.”

As if she knows he’s talking to her, you feel a little nudge.

“Kun, here.” You take his hand and bring it to where you felt her move. “She always does this as soon as I lay down and get comfortable. Can you feel her?” She does it again.

Over the last few days, the boys have been touching your stomach pretty much any chance they can get, always hoping to feel her like Jaehyun, Taeil, and Xiaojun had. So far, they haven’t really felt her again, which in doing some research on that as well, you realize that at just on that edge between twenty-two and twenty-three weeks it’s not uncommon for the baby’s movements to still not be felt from the outside. Maybe she’d just been really, really active on Christmas, excitement for the holiday and all that.

Kun keeps talking to her, holding his hand against your belly with your hand pressed to the back of his. You can tell he so badly wants to feel her, and you want him to be able to feel her. You want all of them to feel her move because it’s so strange and amazing.

You lay on your side facing Kun, relaxing and feeling your eyes grow heavier and heavier as he starts singing to her, his hands caressing your belly. 

When you wake in the morning, Kun’s still got a hand on your belly though you’ve turned over to your other side. He’s spooning you, a hand on your belly, his warm breath on your shoulder. You feel so warm and comfortable, safe and happy, like you need never leave the bed. Until a sudden sense of urgency reminds you why you just woke up.

When you return from the bathroom and slide back into bed, feeling much better with any empty bladder but also much colder outside the sheets, you find Kun awake.

“Do you have a schedule today?” You ask him, resting your head on the pillow again. 

Kun shakes his head. “Yeah, but not until much later.”

You pat the sheets. “Then stay here. It’s your birthday, you deserve to sleep in. And besides that, we both want you here. Isn’t that right?” You rub a hand over your belly, tilting your head down to address it. 

“Oh, well, if that’s what the princess wants.” Kun smiles and sinks back down beside you, facing the ceiling. “I can’t believe in just a few months, she’s going to be born. It’s crazy to think that just a year ago this relationship was still fairly new, but in just months we’re going to have a baby. I think some of us are definitely more ready for it than others.” He’s smiling as he says it, and you know Kun is thinking about how ready he is to be a father, not necessarily thinking about the other side of things.

But now you are thinking about the other side of things. About the boys who aren’t ready to be fathers really.

So you just scoot closer and press your face against Kun’s chest, trying to forget about your worries.

A few weeks pass, and then you’re twenty-five weeks along. And by this point your belly is very round, very obviously pregnant to the point that your coworkers like to pat it when they’re near you, always wanting to feel the baby when you groan and put your hand to your stomach because she kicked. And also, she’s reached the point in development where she gets hiccups, you were surprised to find.

It was a startling feeling the first time you felt it. It was just a twitching feeling, unfamiliar, though similar to kicking. 

You’d been sitting on the sofa with Ten and Johnny when it happened, and Johnny had been quick to slide over to feel the spot that you indicated. And his lips had curled up into a bright smile as he said, “Hiccups. She’s hiccuping.”

Ten wanted in on feeling it too, and then as the three of you enjoyed the oddness of feeling her do this, Ten started looking online for ways to get rid of a baby’s hiccups in-utero, but it turned out that it wasn’t a big deal. Just drink some water. By the time Johnny had gone to get you a glass of water and brought it back, the hiccuping had already stopped, but she was moving, rolling inside you.

Ten stayed slumped beside you, messing around on his phone, and it wasn’t until he suddenly asks you, “Are you doing kegels?”

“Excuse me?” You turn to look at him. “What, like right now?”

“No.” Ten shakes his head. “I just mean, in general. This website says that it’s really important for pregnant women to practice kegels. Helps with labor and preventing bladder incontinence afterwards. Apparently it’s good for everyone to practice, but especially people who are pregnant.”

Admittedly, you have not been practicing any pelvic floor exercises, but now that Ten suggests it, and keeps reading off information about it, he and Johnny decide that they’re going to do it too. So after a bit more research Johnny and Ten are doing stretches on the floor, planning to do some yoga and some kegels, and you just excuse yourself from that because you don’t mind doing kegels, but you don’t like sitting there with them knowing that your vagina is contracting. There’s just something odd and very strangely intimate about that. It doesn’t matter that they have both been extremely intimate with your vagina before.

So you climb upstairs in search of something to distract you from the laughter and wrestling sounds and grunts you can hear coming from your two boyfriends downstairs.

Jaehyun’s laying on his bed. The duvet is crooked beneath him, the bed not really made, and he’s fully clothed with his arms tucked beneath his head. A record is playing quietly, so you almost feel bad for interrupting, but when Jaehyun opens his eyes and sees you standing there at the edge of his bed, he smiles.

“Hey, babe.” 

You’re stunned when, a moment later, as Jaehyun sits up, a tiny, furry (usually pissed off) head appears beside him.

“Miso’s here?” You’re shocked that he’s finally warming up to the boys. Slowly, but he is.

Jaehyun hums and lifts his hand to stroke Miso’s head, but apparently your cat draws the line at petting. He’s fine with cuddling up to Jaehyun though. He balks now, glaring at the offending hand. Jaehyun just laughs and wiggles his fingers at Miso. “He was in here when I woke up. I guess the others left the door open when they left so he came in. Completely ignored me until I got up to put on some music, then when I laid down, he hopped up here with me. Finally starting to like me.”

He tries again to pet the cat, and this time Miso actually bares his teeth.

“Miso!” You chastise him and lift him up in your arms. He immediately starts purring, nuzzling against you. “I just hope he likes her once she’s born. He’s taking so long to warm up to all of you.”

Jaehyun stretches out on his back again, humming along to the music. “I’m sure he’ll love her. Pets are usually good with kids, right?”

You can only hope.

Hope that your cat gets along with your baby. Hope that your boyfriends stay with you. Hope that life isn’t entirely altered in a few months.

“Were you looking for me? Did you need something?” Jaehyun asks after a moment.

You shake your head and sit Miso down as he begins to struggle. He bolts from the room. “No, I was just trying to escape Ten and Johnny trying to get me to do group kegels with them.”

“Kegels?” Jaehyun laughs. “My trainer at the gym has me do those. He says it’s good for lots of things, and it’s important to stay up on it so when I’m old I don’t have so many problems.”

From down on the first floor the grunts of Johnny and Ten echo upstairs.

“Are they doing them now?” Jaehyun turns his head slightly toward the door.

“I’m not really sure what they’re doing,” you admit. “I just felt awkward sitting there, thinking about doing it all together.”

Jaehyun sits up. “I mean, it’s not like they’ll know if you’re doing it. You can do it anywhere, anytime.” There’s another obnoxious noise from downstairs, and Jaehyun rolls his eyes a bit. “If they are doing it, they’re not doing it right.”

And now you feel a bit warm as you ask, “You said your trainer has you do them?” Jaehyun nods. “How exactly do you know you’re doing it right?”

In theory you know what a kegel is, how to do it, but you also don’t know if you’re totally doing it right. Jaehyun has experience.

“My trainer explained it to me, told me in detail about how it should feel. I did a little research online, making sure he wasn’t just making it up because at first it sounded weird to me.” He ruffles his fingers through his hair. “If you want, I can help make sure you’re doing it right.”

“What?” Your face heats up. “How?”

Jaehyun reaches out to you, his fingers on your thigh. “You’re embarrassed, aren’t you?” He’s teasing, but you can tell that Jaehyun’s a little embarrassed too. His ears are too pink for him to not be embarrassed. “It might sound weird, but I’d put my finger in you while you do it.”

You fold your arms in front of you. “Jae, if you want to finger me, all you have to do is say so.”

He rolls his eyes. “That’s not it. Seriously, I know how it’s supposed to feel, and if I do that for you, then you’ll know if you’re doing it right.”

You hold his gaze for a long moment. Still seems like a trick to just have sex, but also you definitely trust Jaehyun to help you with this. “Okay, but go wash your hands first.”

Jaehyun pushes up off the bed, passing out the door within the second.

“Thoroughly!” You call out after him.

“Yes, Mom!” Jaehyun shouts back at you.

You sit down on the edge of the bed, and a minute later Jaehyun comes back into the room, closing the door behind him with his foot, holding his hands aloft like a surgeon entering the OR. 

“This is weird,” you mumble, looking up at Jaehyun still standing there, not touching anything, and you take your pants and panties off. “This feels like a medical examination.” 

“Don’t think of it that way.” Jaehyun kneels on the bed as you lay back, lifting your knees much like you would at an examination. He looks between your legs, then flicks his gaze up to your face. “Okay, maybe this is a little weird.”

It takes you both a few moments to get over the weirdness of it, and then he’s got a finger inside you as he coaxes you to try a kegel. You do it, but you’re embarrassed, covering your face as you tighten the muscles, contracting around Jaehyun’s finger. 

“Try it again,” Jaehyun tells you. “But hold it for a few seconds, then relax.”

You whine. This definitely feels weird, not like physically a wrong sensation, just the situation itself. 

“Relax,” Jaehyun smiles, and he kisses your knee. “You’re too tense to do this. Do I need to help you relax?”

He kisses your knee again, his finger starts pumping, just a slow stroke of his finger inside you. His lips start to trail along your thigh from your knee toward the apex of your thighs.

“Jaehyun,” you whimper, and drape your arms over your face. “I knew you just wanted to have sex. You could just, I don’t know, tell me that.”

“I was genuinely trying to help you.” Jaehyun nips your inner thigh. “But, mmhm, this is a nice turn. You’re getting so wet, fuck.”

When Jaehyun’s tongue meets your wetness, licking at you even as he continues thrusting his long middle finger inside you, you bite at your arm to hold back your moans just a bit. It’s been so long since one of them ate you out. At least about six months, definitely not at all since they found out you were pregnant, too scared to put their face down there at your pussy like they were scared to see the baby staring back at them.

But Jaehyun carefully uses his tongue on you, driving you absolutely wild with pleasure. Your heart pounds, and all of this racing through you doesn’t just awaken your lust.

“Oh, God. Jaehyun.” You gasp, less from what his tongue is actually doing to you in the moment. You take one of his hands and drag it up to your belly. He pauses when he feels what you feel. “We woke her up.”

Jaehyun sits up quickly, looking down at your belly in awe. He brings his other hand to your stomach, feeling your daughter moving in your belly, spurred into movement because of what Jaehyun was doing to you. 

You half expect Jaehyun to back off then, to be weirded out about having sex with the baby awake and moving. But, apparently you underestimate his horniness and his kink for you being pregnant.

Jaehyun pushes your shirt up, completely away from your belly, and you sit up as best as you can to pull your shirt the rest of the way over your head, reach back to unfasten your bra, and then you lay back down, and look up at Jaehyun as he slips backwards off the bed, his eyes raking over your bare body before him.

“I love seeing you like this,” Jaehyun groans, tugging his shirt over his head. “You’re beautiful.”

You flush at the compliment. 

“Yeah, sure. All big and bloated, with stretchmarks.” Just a few mornings ago, you’d looked in the mirror and, to your horror, had spotted stretchmarks on your belly and a dark line was stretching down from your belly button. It’s not that you’d never seen stretchmarks on yourself before, but these were just too much for you to handle in addition to everything else. “I’m gorgeous. Sign me up for a runway.”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes with a gentle smile, and he kneels down on the bed. He takes your hands, holding them down against your sides as he leans in and kisses your belly. “Would you walk a runway if I did sign you up? I could pull some strings. You’d be radiant, powerful, so sexy modeling like this.” He leaves your hands to touch your thighs instead, spreading them so he can fit between them easier.

The heat rises under your skin, both from his words and his touches. Jaehyun’s hands slide higher, thumbs stroking tenderly at the very top of your thighs. 

“Very, very sexy.” Jaehyun leans in and kisses you. It’s a slow, sensual kiss, liquefying your insides as he also dips his hips forward, grinding lightly against you. “You’re beautiful. Seeing you like this is legitimately a sexy dream come true.”

It is quite a confidence boost to have him telling you that he finds you so sexy when you look at yourself like this and don’t see anything great. The way he’s looking at you right now, like he would eat you alive if he could, sends a new wonderful thrill through you, which physically manifests as a shiver and your baby moving inside you.

“That’s so strange,” Jaehyun smiles, looking down at your belly where you can see her moving. He puts a hand over her. “Is it weird if we keep going?” He asks. “Like, do you think she can... feel it?”

At this point you don’t care. He’s got you hot and ready for him, so you don’t care if she can feel it, it’s not like she knows what’s happening, and it’s not like his dick is big enough to get through your cervix or anything as disturbing as that. You just grip at his arms.

“Jaehyun, just get inside me. Please.” You feel like you’re whining, begging, but you can’t help it. It’s been months since you and Jaehyun last really were intimate. You’ve missed having him like this, touching him and being touched by him like this.

He smiles, busy touching your belly, but when you start pouting, he grins even wider. “You’re so cute,” he tells you. “Do you need me so badly, princess?” He leans in to kiss you, carefully avoiding pressing on your belly. “You miss my cock?”

You moan his name, try to squeeze your legs around him to drive his cock against you, inside you. But he just pats your leg, and sits up, shifting back onto his heels. 

“I want you to ride me.” Jaehyun flips over onto his back.

“Right, cause that’s fair.” You sit up and look down at him. “I’m the one putting in all the work, building a baby inside me. Why don’t you do all the work?”

Jaehyun reaches for your belly again. “I just think it’s a better position to appreciate you from. You’ve always looked so good when you’re on top, and now, fuck, with your tits this full and your beautiful baby bump? You look like a goddess, and I’m totally serious, so don’t look at me like that,” Jaehyun says when he catches the doubting look on your face.

And it’s only because this man in bed with you knows how to heap on the praise that you agree and straddle him. He touches your thighs again, his fingers dipping higher, in between your legs, stroking two fingers against your wetness, slipping them inside you just for a moment.

Jaehyun watches you with a smirk on his face as you start riding his fingers, your wetness dripping down his fingers. “You need me right now, don’t you?”

You nod and grip his wrist, thrusting down on his fingers. 

It’s definitely odd feeling your daughter moving inside your womb while you’re in a very sexual encounter, to know that she’s feeling the basics of the emotions you’re feeling--the excitement, your racing heartbeat, the pure enjoyment of what Jaehyun’s doing--but you don’t plan to stop. Not when Jaehyun pulls his fingers out to circle them at your clit. Certainly not when his cock is hovering heavy and pink against his abdomen, and not when you position him between your legs with his fingers still stimulating your clit.

You sink down on him, and for all the teasing he’s done to you, it’s a bit of a surprise when Jaehyun’s eyes flutter shut and he bites his bottom lip to stifle the moan of pleasure as your warm walls wrap around his cock. You have to remember that for months now, while you’ve abstained from Jaehyun’s cock finding orgasms in the others, Jaehyun’s had nothing but his hand and memories of you.

“Do I feel good, Jae?” You ask, sinking down on him until you feel so full, and you rest your hands on his abs, grazing your nails lightly over the flexed muscles. “Have you missed me?”

“So much, princess. Fuuuck.” His hands move to your hips, trying to get you moving on him, though at the moment you’re thoroughly enjoying just sitting on him like this. Perhaps this would be the moment to practice your kegels again, clenching your pussy tight around him.

Jaehyun swears at you, lifting his hips, trying to get deeper inside you, to get you moving on top of him. You oblige.

You love the way a flush rises on Jaehyun’s skin, the way that his eyes are dark with ravenous hunger for your body as you ride him, rolling your hips and thrusting down on his cock and circling your hips.

Jaehyun’s hands are everywhere. He’s always loved your ass, but now he pays close attention to your tits too, cupping them in his hands, leaning up to place tiny kisses around your nipple. And then of course there’s your big baby bump. Jaehyun strokes and just holds his hands against it, and you can’t help touching too. 

You’ve clearly got your baby excited too. She’s kicking and moving, worked up from the excitement you two are experiencing. You can tell that Jaehyun loves the pure intimacy of a moment like this, just you and him and your baby and all this raw emotion and the physical aspect of this. 

It’s moments like this when you’ve got Jaehyun like this that you want him to be the father more than anything else. He wants it so badly. You’ve known that since the first time you had sex with him that he wanted a baby. Hell, you knew it before that. On one of your first dates with him, Jaehyun kept waving and making silly faces at a toddler who was clinging to his mom’s leg nearby, and after they’d left, Jaehyun hadn’t been able to wipe the smile off his face, which had led to a discussion about how he thinks that if he hadn’t followed his path into the idol life he’d probably have already settled down and started a family.

You want this to be it for Jaehyun. Sure, he’s said that he’ll be here no matter if he’s the biological father or not. But you know it’ll break his heart if he’s not the biological father, that he just wants so badly to have it be him, to have this little girl be part you and part Jaehyun, to give her his surname.

And as he cums inside you now, his orgasm unleashing powerfully for the first time in months, you feel the heart-breaking realization that Jaehyun may very well not be the father.

There are some afternoons when you get off of work, and you just can’t go home and sit around there. You want to do something, see something different, and as you’ve gotten more obviously pregnant and with winter being in its depths at the moment, you rarely do more than commute to work and commute to home. 

So on one particular chilly, gray, snowy day, you walk out of work and decide that you’re going to go visit your boyfriends. 

Several of them are at the dance studio, so that’s where you go.

You didn’t check in with any of them before coming, but it’s rarely ever a problem for you to show up at the practice studio.

But of course, this time, you walk through the door of the room they’re in, and immediately three staff members turn to face you, and there are a few of the boys, but it’s only Jungwoo and Doyoung that look up from what they’re doing, and you freeze. They’re doing a VLive.

Doyoung starts to smile, then looks back down at his phone where he was reading something. Jungwoo starts making a face at you until Kun gently puts his hand on Jungwoo’s thigh, pulling his attention back to the live. 

Recently they added two new members, neither of which you know very well, but Shotaro and Sungchan seem really great, like they’ll fit into your little family perfectly, but as they don’t live at the house with the rest of the members, you haven’t had the chance to get to know them. Both of them are there as well, squashed in on the back of the sofa between Lucas and Yuta.

Just a week ago when you asked Yuta about the two of them and what they knew of you, Yuta just shrugged and said, “It’s kinda like what we’ve told the staff. That you’re dating one of us, that you’re pregnant, that we’ve all agreed to keep it a secret which one of us you’re dating because then any rumor that leaks won’t have anything really solid to it.” So that’s how it stood. 

But now, standing here just inside the doorway of the practice room while the staff members look at you, while Sungchan and Shotaro keep glancing your way curiously, you think maybe you shouldn’t have come. Especially not unannounced.

You move to the side and ease yourself down to sit on the floor beside their manager who didn’t look up when you walked in. She’s the friendliest, the one that helped with the gender reveal cake, who is probably one of their only staff members to know the true nature of this relationship you’ve got with the boys. You trust her, and they all do, which is why she knows because she won’t spill the secrets to sasaengs and gossip sites.

They wrap up the live about ten minutes later, waving goodbye and blaming the need for a few of them to go meet up for a special practice. Once it’s over, the live shut off, and the phone used for the live tucked safely out of sight, everyone disperses.

Doyoung, Jungwoo, and Kun come over to you right away. Yuta walks to the other side of the room, talking in rapid Japanese with Shotaro. Sungchan disappears, and Lucas remains sitting on the sofa, tapping at his phone and smiling at whatever he’s looking at.

Now that you can talk without fear of it being picked up on the livestream’s audio, their manager starts asking you about the pregnancy, how far are you exactly, when’s the due date, are the boys being good to you? To which you answer her: 28 weeks, mid-April, and usually.

“Hey, we’re pretty good to you!” Jungwoo protests. “Who was it that helped you with your swollen feet and your back, hmm?”

“And who woke up the other night to make some insomnia snacks for you?” Doyoung asks, gesturing at himself and Kun. To be fair, Kun had already been up and in the process of grabbing a snack from the kitchen (you’d already drained his snack drawer supplies), so he and Doyoung had worked together to satisfy your cravings even though Doyoung was half asleep most of the time, just standing there nodding off beside you while Kun cooked. But he’d made for a very nice shoulder for you to rest your head on, and he’d smelled like clean detergent when you’d buried your nose in the shoulder of his hoodie.

You roll your eyes at them. “Yes, they’re all really good to me. Don’t you all need to practice, or something?”

“Soon,” Kun tells you. “We’re just waiting for the last few members to get here.”

Johnny, WinWin, and Taeyong walk in soon after, and the set of members to practice have all arrived.

You’re not surprised that when your boyfriends leave you to go start the practice that Johnny and Jungwoo both take off their shirts, though you are quite impressed. Jungwoo’s really not usually so flashy with his body, but he’d recently told you that the company wanted to make his image more manly and powerful, like Johnny and Jaehyun. Thus, the long stretch of toned muscles and tight abs that you see reflected in the wall of mirrors.

You love watching the boys dance, seeing them put all of their focus and determination into it. You don’t know how many times you’ve sat in these rooms with them, watching them put in the hours, losing themselves in the music. 

You hope your daughter is a dancer, that whichever of them is the father she inherits part of his talent, whether it’s the dancing or the singing or rapping, the visuals or acting ability or humor. You hope she has star quality like every one of her fathers.

You’re sitting there caressing your belly, daydreaming about her while watching them, listening to Doyoung just start belting out his part of the song, when she moves--a big stretch suddenly, causing you to gasp.

WinWin looks over at you, nearly stumbling over Kun and Johnny who’ve also twisted their heads around to see why you’ve gasped.

“I’m fine.” You wave at them to get back to practice, but the choreography was destroyed by the stumbles, and they’ve been at it for a while by this point, so they call a water break.

WinWin drops down in front of you, folding his limbs just-so so that he can sit close to you and put his hands on your belly, feeling her trying to get comfortable. “She wants to dance too, I think,” he says with a soft smile. “I was dreaming about the baby last night. You were holding her and she was a few months old, laughing, smiling, and she held my finger so tightly I could still feel it when I woke up. And then I was holding her too, dancing Take Off choreography and she was just laughing.” He looks up at you, his eyes aglow.

You put a hand on his head, petting his hair flat where it’s standing up awkwardly on top. “I just want you to know, if you ever decide to dance to your intense choreographies with my newborn daughter in your arms, I will kill you.”

WinWin laughs. “It was just a dream! I would never.”

You look up from his sweet smiling face to see Sungchan standing a few feet away, looking at the two of you, at WinWin’s hands on your belly. “Do you want to feel, Sungchan? She’s moving.”

“Oh, I.... are you sure?”

“Yes.” You laugh. WinWin moves back, opening up space for Sungchan, who hesitantly sits down too. He lets you guide his hand to where you can feel her.

“That’s.... interesting.” Sungchan looks down at his hand on your belly, like he’s puzzled as he feels you baby move just a little bit. “Weird. No offense.”

“None taken. It’s definitely weird.” She moves again, and you groan. “Alright. She’s sitting right on my bladder now. I need to get up.”

WinWin hurries to his feet, reaching down to help you up, which is quite an ordeal because you’ve been sitting there on the floor for a while. You probably shouldn’t have sat on the floor in the first place, and now as you have not one, not two, but a third boyfriend come over to help you gently to your feet, you feel utterly embarrassed.

WinWin, Doyoung, and Taeyong all three end up helping you safely to your feet. Taeyong even tags along with you as you walk from the room in search of the restroom, keeping his hand on your lower back tenderly.

You’re not helpless, you want to remind him that. You just needed a bit of aid getting up off the floor, which even he needs help with sometimes. 

“I’m fine, Taeyong. I promise.” You turn as he tries to follow you through the door of the restroom. “I don’t need help in here.” You curl a hand around the back of his neck and press forward on your toes to kiss him quick, praying no one is around to see and start rumors. “I’ll be right out.”

Taeyong’s still standing there when you emerge a few moments later, and you can tell from the way he’s looking at you that he wants another kiss, wants more than a kiss. But you can’t right then. He needs to get back in to the practice room, not sneak away with you to have a quick romp in a closet at SM Entertainment, which you’re not even sure seems like a good idea with you being this pregnant.

As you’re both walking back into the room, Lucas walks up from the opposite direction, still buried in his phone, and when he looks up and sees you, he grins. It’s a loose, easy smile, and he puts his phone away to come closer, rubbing your belly.

“For luck,” he tells you.

The practice ends hours later by which point you think even you could follow along to the choreography if you weren’t 7 months pregnant. And because you are 7 months pregnant and hungry, you beg them to feed you as you’re all leaving to head home.

Taeyong has to go to the studio and Kun’s going with him to collaborate on a project together, so they’re both out, waving goodbye as they head their own way.

“I’ll go with you to get food,” Lucas tells you. “I’ve been wanting to be alone with you.”

So the others head home, and you and Lucas grab a taxi to a restaurant that Lucas likes.

You’re glad it was Lucas who volunteered to take you to get food. Lately it seems you haven’t spent a lot of time together, which he’s been busy recording and practicing, doing photo shoots for the group and solo shoots also since he’s so handsome. But also several of the guys have been trying to keep you all to themselves. And when you do get the chance to be with Lucas, you just keep thinking about what you heard Mark and Jaehyun talking about, thinking about what you and Lucas talked about that day you went on a picnic date.

So things have been a bit awkward between the two of you over the last month especially.

Dinner is good. The food and Lucas’s company. Both of you laugh as you eat, tucked away in a back corner of the restaurant. But occasionally you notice him going randomly quiet and picking at his food, sinking into his thoughts, and that makes you nervous, so you ask him about it.

Lucas shakes his head. “Just nervous for the comeback.” He shoves a piece of meat into his mouth. “And I’ve just had a little cold lately. Don’t worry, babe.”

So you don’t worry. Several of the guys have been dealing with mild colds lately, and you’ve been downing vitamins and healthy foods, wearing a mask to keep yourself from getting sick too when you’re around the boys. 

As you stand together outside the restaurant, waiting for the taxi to come take you back to the house, Lucas holds your hands in one of his large ones, keeping your fingers warm in the chilly night. And he looks at you and looks at you. You can feel his gaze burning against the side of your face, and when you finally look at him too, Lucas doesn’t look away.

“What?” You ask, unable to hide a smile. “Do I have something on my face or something?”

Lucas shakes his head, his expression so serious on his handsome face. “No, I’m just looking at you.”

He looks like there’s more he’s going to say, but at that moment the taxi pulls up, and you drag Lucas into the warm car’s backseat. 

“How was work?” Mark asks, rubbing his hand soothingly down your back. 

You’re sitting at the kitchen table, freshly showered, just waiting for the dinner you’re making to finish up, and Mark’s just walked down from his room. 

“Work was... work. I’m heavily pregnant, tired.” You drop your head onto his shoulder. “I had a stranger try to touch my belly today when I went to lunch. That was horrible.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” Mark kisses your head. “Want me to do anything to make you feel better?”

You shake your head. “I’m just going to eat dinner, then lay in bed until I fall asleep. Spend some quality alone time before I never get it anymore.” You pat your belly. 

Mark strokes your head, “I can finish making dinner for you. Relax.”

“She wants to eat sometime tonight, Mark. Preferably without being poisoned.” Taeyong strides into the room. He pauses at your chair to drop a kiss to your cheek, then moves on to the stove. “I can finish it. Mark’s right, you need to put your feet up, relax.”

So you do just that while Taeyong putters around the kitchen, cooking, improving upon the meal you’d already begun making, and soon he sits the meal down in front of you, ducks his head to kiss your belly, and tells your baby, “Eat well, little angel.” And then he lifts his head to kiss you. “Enjoy, my love.”

The dinner is quite delicious and filling, so by the time you’ve finished, you’re in the perfect state to just climb up the ridiculous amount of stairs to your bedroom and then sit in bed and watch videos. You put on your comfy clothes to sleep in, and settle back against your pillows, put on a Netflix show you’ve been trying to watch that none of your boyfriends have much interest in.

Probably somewhere in the second episode you’re watching, there’s a soft knock on your door.

“Come in!” You call out.

Lucas pops his head inside, looks around the room, then asks, “Hey, can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course.” You scoot aside on your bed, making room for him. “What’s up?”

Lucas has his phone in his hands, twisting it around, tapping his fingers on it. He sighs, a deep heavy sound. “I need to talk to you about something.”

And your heart sinks. 

Your shoulders go tense, and you look up at his face even as you truly want to look anywhere else. “Okay.”

Lucas sits gingerly beside you, perched just on the edge of the bed so he’s in no way crowding you. “I’ve been thinking for a little while, trying to really, really think about stuff, and when you asked me the other night at dinner what was wrong, I just didn’t really know yet, but what I said to you is true. I was recovering from a cold and I’ve been nervous about the comeback, but there’s more too.”

He rubs his hand over the back of his head, looking down at his feet, and you just watch him. Your mouth feels dry, your heart pounds.

“What is it?” Your voice sounds hoarse.

The silence that fills the room them is unbearably loud, static in your ears.

“I think we should break up,” Lucas mumbles. 

“Why?” You ask, your voice quiet.

You wish you could say that you didn’t see this coming or that you saw it coming from a long way off. But honestly you’d been afraid that this was coming, hoping that it wasn’t. Ever since you found out that you were really pregnant, this fear has been lingering in the back of your mind; not this specific fear that Lucas would break up with you, just that one of them would--that he wouldn’t want to be a father, that it would all finally grow to be too much for him.

“It’s not you.” Lucas puts his hand on your leg.

You roll your eyes and look away because you can feel hot tears tingling their way to the surface.

“I swear. It’s not you, it’s not the baby.” He squeezes your leg in a way that’s probably meant to be reassuring. “We already knew that this relationship would be tough, even before any of us knew about her. We knew that keeping this going with all of us just isn’t realistic, that things are going to happen in the future, that feelings might go away.”

You turn quickly to face him, your eyes burning, and when you blink, the tears begin to fall. “Is that why you want to break up? The feelings just went away?” You can’t help feeling angry and upset, so the words come out with a bite behind them.

Lucas shakes his head quickly. “No, no, not really. I still love you, of course I do. Maybe the feelings going away isn’t the right way to say that. The feelings have changed. I love you still. I’ll always love you, but now I think it’s more of a best friends and confidants kind of love. And I met someone, I like her too. I thought we were just supposed to be friends, but we’ve been talking more, and that’s what I meant a few minutes ago, about me thinking a lot recently. Because as she and I have been talking, I started realizing I really like talking to her. She’s funny and smart, and that’s not to say that you aren’t those things, but no offense at all, please, but sometimes it feels like I get a little lost in this relationship, and it’s so much easier to just be with one person, especially when I feel like that person fits me really well.”

You bite at your bottom lip, trying to hold in the tears, but you can’t help sniffling. “I know you’re right. It’s better to end things before you really start anything with someone else. Does she know how you feel?”

Lucas shakes his head. “No, and, uh, please don’t be mad. But it’s your friend Chaerin.”

Instantly you think back, remembering how it’s been your friend Chaerin who was fawning over Lucas that first time that they all met the boys; it was her that spent most of the New Years Eve party talking with him. He’s her type too.

“We exchanged numbers on New Years Eve,” Lucas tells you as if he can see the wheels turning in your head. “She said she just wanted one of our numbers to be able to check in on how you were doing without having to ask you all the time because she wanted an honest opinion. She said she thought you might just tell her what you thought she wanted to hear, which, honestly, you know you would’ve.” Lucas reaches up to wipe away one of your escaped tears. “At first we did only talk about you.”

You so badly want to be angry. He’s your boyfriend. She’s one of your best friends. What business do they have getting to know each other better?

But she doesn’t know about this between you and Lucas. She doesn’t know that he’s totally off limits. How would she know when you’ve kept all of this a secret from all of your friends? And Lucas is right, it’s not like you’ve given him all of the attention that he deserves when you’re in a relationship with him and thirteen others. 

“But we started talking more and joking around, and I like her. I’m sorry.” Lucas ducks his head. “I tried telling myself I’m being ridiculous, but I just....”

Now it’s your turn to put a hand over his, squeezing reassuringly. “Don’t feel bad, Lucas. I should’ve known this was coming. You already told me that you’re not sure about this whole fatherhood thing, and this relationship is complicated, and if you fall in love with someone else, well, I just want you to be happy.”

He looks up, eyes brightening and a smile blooming on his lips. “Really?”

You nod slowly. “Yes, really. Did you think I’d scream and argue, tell you that you can’t break up with me or something?” He laughs and shakes his head no. “But, Lucas, I think you should tell her about us, about the chance that this baby could be yours.” You put a hand on your belly, and his eyes follow that motion.

“Of course. And if she is my daughter, I swear, I’ll still take care of you and her, just like I promised. Even with us not... with us not being together anymore.” He swallows, and his face once more takes on a somber, apologetic expression. “I’m sorry. I hate doing this.”

You hate it too, and it hurts, of course it does. But you’d much rather that Lucas end it now than both of you face possibly months of unhappiness, it ending in a huge blowout fight or something.

“Now I can go beg comfort cuddles from one of the others.” You shrug, then reach for his hand, holding onto it. “I want you to be happy, just the same for any of you. If they’re not happy in this relationship, none of them have to stay, I won’t hold it against anyone. I won’t hold it against you.”

Lucas sits with you for a while more, still trying to comfort you and apologize for ending things, to which each time you tell him to shut up. When he leaves, you wait a few moments and then walk to the door, peeking out to see if any of the others are around.

You don’t see any of them wandering around, but Mark and Taeil are laughing in their room down the hall, so you walk over there.

When you walk in you see Mark lying on his stomach on the floor, watching videos on his phone, while Taeil’s sitting wrapped up in a blanket on his bed, his hood pulled up over his hair, and he smiles when you come right over to him. But it’s when you just lay down and immediately snuggle as close to him as your belly will allow, hiding your face against his chest, that Taeil clears his throat.

“Is something wrong?” He asks, bringing one hand up to pet your hair and the other to rest on your belly.

“Lucas broke up with me,” you tell them.

“What?!” There’s the sound of Mark’s phone hitting the floor, and by the time you roll over to see him, he’s already picked it back up and he’s sitting up. He asks again, “Lucas did what?”

You sigh and put your head back on Taeil’s chest. “He broke up with me. Me and the baby need cuddles.”

Taeil’s already fulfilling that, but Mark wastes no time getting up off the floor and trying to squeeze into Taeil’s bed even though that leaves him right on the edge of it.

“Did he say why?” Taeil keeps his voice soft, his touches tender.

“He just doesn’t feel the same anymore.” You can feel the tears starting to rise and burn again. Mark kisses the back of your neck. “And he’s started getting feelings for someone else. One of my friends. Chaerin.”

Mark bristles. “What a dick move. Do you want me to go talk to him?”

“No, Mark.” You rub your cheek against Taeil’s sweatshirt, leaving a big dark tear stain. “It’s fine, really. I understand, and I want him to be happy, but it still sucks.”

“It does.” Taeil kisses your forehead. “If you want to cry, baby, you can just cry. We won’t judge you.” He cups your cheek, hiding your face more against his chest.

Mark kisses the cap of your shoulder again, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your belly. Their tenderness just breaks something in you, and you let the tears go, sobbing into Taeil’s chest while both he and Mark hold you. After a while you can tell that Taeil’s crying too, and your baby is moving, but even that can’t bring you delight right now.

Yuta finds the three of you just like that when he comes into the room a little over an hour later.

“Oooh, what’s this?” He asks, his tone light and excited as he climbs onto the bed too, careful of you as he straddles Mark and bends over to kiss your belly. And then he sees Taeil (who has stopped crying with you) and sees your face with the tears and the wet sweatshirt under your cheek, and he gets serious immediately. “What’s wrong?”

“Lucas broke up with her.” Taeil explains, stroking his fingers over the back of your head as you hiccup and hide your face against his chest again. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve got this.”

Yuta frowns and folds his arms. “What do you mean, you’ve got this? You think I’m just going to go sit over there on my bed and pretend like she’s not laying here heartbroken and crying? No. Mark, you’re not really doing anything, you’ve had your turn, go to your bed. It’s my turn to cuddle her.”

You feel the hitch as Mark opens his mouth to respond, but something else makes him hesitate, and then he’s moving. Yuta quickly fills in the space, whispering to you words that only you and Taeil can hear, sweet comforting words. You don’t even hear Mark leave the room.

But you do hear the argument start about five minutes late downstairs. Yuta swears under his breath and says, “I’ll take care of this.”

And then it’s just you snuggled up to Taeil, his lips on your forehead, a hand on your belly, another in your hair. 

The volume of the argument rises and you hear Yuta’s voice joining in, then Yuta and Mark climbing the stairs, now arguing with each other. They stop outside the door, and Yuta shushes Mark with a harsh, “Do you really fucking think that she wants you to do that, Mark? You think she wants you to pick a fight with Lucas? Lucas? He could crush you with no problem if he wanted to, and you’re going to pick a fight with him? Don’t you think that might upset her even more if you got hurt, dumbass?”

Mark mumbles something that you can’t quite catch.

“Yeah, now shut up, be good, and go to bed.” Yuta demands, and the door of the room opens.

Mark slumps into the room, and he climbs into his bed, pulls the sheets up over himself, and then the room goes quiet. Yuta doesn’t say anything else either, just snuggles right in behind you again, his body warm and protective against your back.

By the morning after the breakup everyone seemed to know about it. All of the boys, including the younger boys, were being careful and almost overly affectionate with you. Lucas was keeping his distance, trying to keep out of sight of you. You couldn’t decide if that was because of his own choice or due to something Mark had said to him the night before.

Either way, it was a week later before you heard from your friend Chaerin. She sent you just a simple to-the-point text: “oh my god I swear I didn’t know about you and Lucas. I wouldn’t have ever flirted with him if I’d known!”

So you know Lucas has talked to her.

“Yeah, it’s fine, really. We broke up, and I just want him to be happy.”

“When he told me I freaked out!” She types, “And then when he said that there’s a chance the baby might be his I wasn’t so sure about this, like I don’t want to totally piss you off and ruin our friendship”

“Really Chae, it’s fine. I don’t know what all he told you about us, but it wasn’t just me and him in the relationship, so I’ve still got my support in this relationship. Like I said, I just want him to be happy, and he seems like he really like you. I hope his history with me and the chance of the baby being his doesn’t scare you off.”

And it takes a while before you get her response: “it totally doesn’t, I really really like him :)”

And later that day you seek Lucas out, needing to actually talk to him for the first time since the breakup. You both agree to keep things normal, friendly, between you. 

“Well,” Lucas smiles at the suggestion. “As normal as we can be when we’ve fucked as many times as we have, when you’re pregnant with a baby that might be mine, and when you’ve pissed on me sexually.” That last comment earns him a punch in the arm, which he good-naturedly pretends actually hurt him.

Things are good then. Normal as they can be, though it’s still strange to have lost an element of your relationship, to still have him so strongly in your life, but his heart’s not yours anymore. Chaerin’s got him now.

So almost two weeks after the breakup, when it comes time for the baby shower hosted by your mother, your friends and a few coworkers are in attendance. Chaerin is there too, awkward at first, but after a while she’s back to normal, especially as you’d not treated her any differently. You can’t be mad at her; you tried the anger thing but it just didn’t work. You wanted Lucas to be happy and her to be happy too, and as long as you’d known Lucas he’d been a man of his word, so you trusted that if your daughter shares his DNA, he’ll act as her father should.

You celebrate the shower as if you’re a single mother, and somehow your mother goes along with that. Neither her, nor Chaerin, nor your other friend who knows that at least two of the guys are potentially the father, lets on to any of the other attendees that they know who the father is.

Chaerin even comes with you to take all of your gifts back to the house, unbeknownst to anyone else at the house.

So when she walks in, Lucas is sitting on the sofa, laughing with Jeno and Xiaojun. He’s shirtless, his hair an absolute disaster from sleep, and he’s drinking a smoothie which clings to his upper lip as he pulls the glass away. And then he sees you and Chaerin framed in the doorway, and he starts grinning like a fool, an embarrassed fool at that.

“Hi, Chae.”

Your heart sinks a little when you remember that even as adorable as Lucas looks right then, it’s not you who should be admiring him like that. It’s not you that he’s smiling at.

Chae blushes and smiles and sits down the gifts that she carried inside before she walks closer to talk with him. Xiaojun and Jeno both look surprised, glancing between you and Lucas and Chaerin. But you put on your happiest face, and you recruit them to help you carry the gifts upstairs to your room.

“That’s the girl that he broke up with you for?” Jeno asks in a low, incredulous voice as soon as you’re all three inside your room. “She’s your friend, isn’t she?”

You shrug. “Yeah, that’s how they met each other. Listen, it sucks. I’ve said that before, but I just want them to be happy.”

Jeno mumbles something about “bullshit,” and Xiaojun just sighs and walks closer, wrapping his arms around you, his lips brushing your shoulder. “Do you want some help organizing this stuff? You don’t really need to be walking up and down the stairs so much, you know?”

Jeno leaves the room quietly.

“If you want to stay, Dejun.” You look at the piled gifts, mostly just baby clothes and toys and a few other things. Chaerin and your mother had helped you organize them into baskets or bags, so the larger items were still down in Chae’s car, but you figure she and Lucas and maybe Jeno too could help bring those in.

“Of course I want to stay.” Xiaojun sits down in front of the pile of gifts while you groan as you ease down into the rocking chair in the corner of the room. “Or are you tired? If you want to nap, just tell me to fuck off.”

You shake your head as Xiaojun looks up at you with his soft puppy dog eyes. You tell him, “I don’t want you to go anywhere.”

“Do you want me to sing to her?” He asks. “I’ve heard that singing to a baby makes them happier, makes them smarter, stuff like that.”

Before you even tell him yes or no, Xiaojun’s already crawling the few feet across the floor to you. He folds his legs and sits right in front of you, one hand caressing your belly, and he leans closer, his lips only inches from your belly as he sings. You don’t know the words to the song but it’s nice, and you think she must be listening because she starts moving, stretching and rolling over.

By this point in your pregnancy, thirty-one weeks along, it’s all starting to feel like a bit of a tight fit. She’s digging into organs, pushing her little hands and feet against the swell of your belly, making your body look like an alien is trying to break out of you. And you sometimes feel like a bit of an alien in your own skin--the stretchmarks, some weird rashes, the aches and pains, trouble sleeping, housing another human life inside of you--it’s all a bit much at times and you miss your body from before.

You worry that you disgust some of your boyfriends because you look like this. A particularly nasty voice in the back of your mind whispers that your pregnancy and how it’s affected your appearance is the reason Lucas broke up with you.

But you know, deep down, that that’s not it. You know that Lucas’s feelings for you just changed and you know that you don’t disgust the others. Jungwoo and Jaehyun have both expressed their delight and pleasure at seeing your body like this. Johnny just a week ago praised your body when he woke you up and ate you out before fucking you fully awake, telling you that you deserve to feel good too, putting in all this work and looking so sexy while doing it.

Xiaojun’s still quietly singing to your belly when the door opens and WinWin peeks his head inside. And then you see Doyoung just behind him, and both of them come inside, closing the door behind them.

“Is that her?” Doyoung asks, gesturing back toward the door, toward the living room downstairs. “That’s your friend?”

Xiaojun glares at Doyoung, pausing his singing, irritated that Doyoung’s bringing up what you’re clearly trying to avoid thinking about. WinWin also knocks his fist into Doyoung’s arm before he comes farther inside your room, sitting on the edge of your bed.

“You’re much prettier,” Doyoung blurts out. “So much prettier, and I talked with her when she was here for the gender reveal party, and you’re a million times smarter and more interesting.”

“Thanks for attempting to flatter me, Doyoung.” You sigh, rubbing a hand over your belly. “But I’m sure those are just pretty words. I’m absolutely enormous and swollen and my belly has all these stretchmarks and stuff, so I doubt that Chaerin is less pretty than me right now. Or ever, really. She’s gorgeous, don’t try to lie about that just to make me feel better.”

WinWin rolls his eyes. “Obviously she’s pretty. Lucas is a narcissist, visual-obsessed guy, so he’s not going to want to be with someone who’s not just as good looking as himself. Which is complimentary to you and Chaerin. But also, love, you’re not any less gorgeous now than you were before the pregnancy. Stop putting yourself down.”

Chastised, you look down at your hand on your belly. Xiaojun is still sitting on the floor at your feet, and he ducks his head a little, trying to catch your eye.

When he succeeds, he gives you a little smile. “You’re beautiful, glowing. Why do you think you aren’t?”

“I just told you,” you mumble, “A big round belly like this, the swelling, stretchmarks, among the other unattractive side effects.”

You blush as you remember a few days ago when you could hold in some gas, and let it go to your extreme embarrassment. The younger boys that had been around you at the time had burst into laughter until Jungwoo walloped Jisung on the arm and told him to shut up.

“Besides,” you refuse to look any of them in the eye as you say, “Hardly any of you touch me anymore. I don’t think I’ve had any sexual contact with you, Doyoung, since before we found out I was pregnant. Same with you, WinWin.”

WinWin opens his mouth, then pauses to think about it. He frowns. “It wasn’t intentional. But I think you’re right. If anything it’s a subconscious thing about not wanting to hurt the baby. It’s absolutely not me finding you unattractive. You’re still incredibly sexy.”

“You won’t hurt the baby.” Xiaojun stands up, looking quite assertive. “Have you not heard any of the others talk about it? Do you not know that your dick can’t get to where the baby is? The baby will be fine. At this point, the biggest worry about having sex is triggering her into early labor.”

Just the thought of that happening makes you feel sick. Not that you’ve admitted it to anyone but you’re still scared of what’s going to happen when you actually go into labor.

Doyoung clears his throat. “I heard Jungwoo say he and Hendery both fucked you together, but that was a few months ago.”

“Yeah,” you huff. “And it’s been months since I got anything from you or WinWin. Do you think I haven’t missed having you two? Have you not missed me? What’ve you been up to?”

Doyoung flexes his hand, but doesn’t say anything. WinWin just laughs.

“So you’d rather just fuck your hand than your girlfriend, I get it.” You try to stand up from the rocking chair, but nearly fall back into it. Doyoung steps forward, gripping onto your arm to stabilize you. “Just say you don’t want me. Break up with me like Lucas.”

The look Doyoung gives you then is indescribable--some mix between fury and annoyance and sadness and something else.

And then he’s kissing you, pouring all of those emotions and more into it. You haven’t been kissed like this in months. Kissed with a burning passion that sets you whole body alight, that takes you from one mood all the way to horny in an instant. Horny, hungry, craving more and more and more.

“We can just leave.” Xiaojun’s already backing toward the door, but WinWin sits frozen on your bed.

“Stay, i don’t care.” Doyoung mumbles, barely pulling his mouth away from yours to answer.

You want to stay right there, kissing Doyoung, but you know where this is heading or at least where you want it to head, and with all the blood rushing south, another need arises.

You put a hand to Doyoung’s neck, lingering in the kiss for just a moment longer before you press your hand gently to his shoulder. Your lips feel absolutely gross from a mess of lip gloss you’d worn to the baby shower earlier now smeared across your lips, but you tell Doyoung. “I’ll be right back.” And to the other two you point at your bed and tell them, “Stay here too.”

Xiaojun nods and takes a seat on the bed beside WinWin. Doyoung falls back onto it too. All three watch you walk away into your bathroom and close the door behind you.

As soon as the door’s shut, you hear WinWin groan. “I haven’t done this in months. God, I feel like it won’t last long.”

Doyoung snorts an amused laugh. “I’m the same, though.”

You smile to yourself and walk over to the sink, splashing water on your face, wiping at the tackiness of the lipgloss.

You take your time in there, peeing, freshening yourself up just a bit, and when you feel nice and all good about yourself, that’s when you open the door and step back out into your bedroom.

All three of them are still seated on your bed in a row of shirtless, awe-faced men.

Doyoung’s rubbing his lips together, and when his eyes drink in the sight of you framed in the bathroom doorway, he licks his lips.

WinWin’s mouth forms a round O.

Xiaojun just bunches his hands up at the his knees. “You look really, really fucking good.” He can’t take his eyes off of you, his face tinged a bit with the honestly of his statement.

You’re wearing only a bathrobe and panties. The robe hangs open around your belly, covering just your breasts. Your hair is loose around your face, and as you step into the room, you feel the confidence inside you swell. The way they’re all three looking at you is the same as they’ve always looked at you, which makes you feel so good now when you’ve gained the weight and have all of your new body bared to them like this.

“I can taste your lipgloss, darling.” Doyoung rubs his lips together again, unable to look away from you. “So sweet, makes me just want to taste you.” His gaze drops down to your belly, to the peek of your panties just underneath. “Can I?”

WinWin makes a short noise as you walk towards them, and when you tear your gaze away from Doyoung’s hungry expression to look at WinWin, he’s palming himself through his pants. Xiaojun’s still just clutching at his knees, looking like he’s really trying to hold himself in check before he breaks and fucks you.

You love it, and absolutely need to feel it.

Doyoung pushes off the bed, falling to his knees smoothly in front of you. His fingers tuck inside the band of your panties, lips brushing your belly, and then he drags the panties down your thighs, following the trail with his lips. His fingers caress the back of your calves as you step out of the panties, and then Doyoung tips his head back to look up at you, his eyes dark and lustful, as he tells you, “Sit on the bed.”

You step around him, sitting on the bed in between Xiaojun and WinWin.

“Darling.” Doyoung moans, kneeling between your knees, putting his hands on your knees to spread them farther apart. “You want me to eat you out, sweetheart?”

You slide a hand over each of your other boyfriends’ thighs, nodding down at Doyoung, already sucking in a sharp breath as he kisses and nips lightly up nearer to your pussy. “Doyoung, please,” you sigh, and you slump sideways against Xiaojun who drapes his arms protectively around you. You let out an unrestrained moan when you feel the wet heat of Doyoung’s mouth on you, licking against your pussy, getting you wetter than you already are.

“So noisy,” WinWin tuts, and then his fingers are touching your lips, tracing the outline of your mouth, and then his fingertips are on your tongue and you instinctively latch onto them, sucking and pushing to take more of his fingers deeper inside your mouth. “Oh, fuck,” WinWin moans, spreading his fingers slightly. “You want something in your mouth too, princess, while Doyoung’s taking care of you?”

Doyoung moans softly, his lips around your clit, and a finger entering you.

You squirm, moaning, trying to nod your affirmative desire to have what WinWin’s talking about. You miss blowing your boyfriends, having sex with multiple partners. This foursome is exactly what you’ve been needing for months now.

Xiaojun’s hands move from where they’d been just casually resting, and he now touches your breasts, the robe fallen apart and just barely hanging on your shoulders. Your tits weigh in his hands, and he plays with them while Doyoung continues to eat your pussy, and WinWin draws his fingers from your mouth to instead cover your lips with his.

WinWin’s hand rests on your belly, rubbing slowly over the top curve of it. It feels so good combined with everything else. And then Doyoung pulls his mouth away from your clit, instead dropping a tender kiss to your belly, his fingers still pressing inside you.

“You taste so sweet,” he moans, and then he ducks his head again, his tongue dancing around where his fingers enter your pussy, catching the wetness that gushes out around his fingers.

You pant and moan, sunken into Xiaojun’s side. His teeth nip at the curve of your shoulder, fingers still pinching and pulling at your nipples, tightening that twist in your belly. WinWin does his best to keep your loud sounds quiet, kissing you or giving you his fingers to suck on.

When you feel Doyoung’s hand bumping rhythmically against your foot as you also begin to feel him humming in pleasure against you, you realize what’s happening.

“Just fuck me, Doyoung.” You sit up, trying to get a clear look at him, but your belly makes that a little more difficult. “Stop touching yourself, I’m ready for you.” His head appears, and Doyoung licks at his glossy pink lips, drawing his fingers from your pussy and slipping them between his lips, his tongue moving explicitly around them.

Xiaojun swears softly, his hands leaving your tits to grope his cock through his shorts. 

Doyoung stands, reaching for you again, though this time he’s urging you to move. “On your hands and knees, darling,” he instructs, his hand caressing your thigh, steadying you as you turn over. “This feel alright?”

You feel a little strange like this with the heavy weight of your pregnant belly hanging below you in this position, but good about this. Especially good when Doyoung presses his spit-slicked fingers inside you once again, his thumb now working circles on your clit, just getting you a little more stretched for him.

“Fuck, Doyoung.” You whine, dropping your forehead down onto the sheets. “Stop playing around with me. I’m pregnant and horny and just want you inside me, can’t you give me that?”

He laughs and his hands disappear from your body for an instant in which you hear the sound of clothes falling lightly to the floor. Then the heat of his body is back, right behind you, he rests a hand on your hip, his dick is right there and if you just pushed your hips back you would feel the satisfaction of having him fill you, but Doyoung doesn’t give you the chance to take that role.

He slides right into you with a low moan.

Right beside you, WinWin moans too.

One sideways glance reveals he’s not even touching himself. Just the sight of Doyoung sinking into you, the way you take him so easily, it’s enough to have WinWin aroused to the point that he makes such a pretty sound when he’s so rarely been vocal during sex with you.

Doyoung keeps up a steady pace that has you panting, your pussy fluttering with an approaching orgasm. You don’t expect to last long, and you don’t expect any of these three to last long either. You just hope you have it in you to give all three of them a good time.

And then Xiaojun kneels right in front of your face, the bulge in his pants almost level with your lips already.

“Please, baby, I want to feel your lips.” He touches your hair, pushing it back from your face, while his other hand messes with the fastening of his pants. 

You nod, pushing up on your elbows, and Xiaojun shuffles forward on his knees so that when he does unfasten his pants, when his dick pops free of the confines, it swings up to bounce off your lips much to your surprise.

Xiaojun starts to apologize, but you’re already moving, taking him into your mouth without the use of your hands, just suckling at the tip.

It takes you a moment, while you sit there with your eyes closed, wrapped up in the rocking motion of your body while Doyoung thrusts into you and you take more of Xiaojun down your throat, to realize that the hand on your head, the one pushing you ever so slightly farther down on Xiaojun’s cock, is WinWin’s hand. Both of Xiaojun’s are otherwise occupied: one curled on the back of your neck, the other at the base of his erection.

Not wanting WinWin to feel left out, you lift a hand to help him, but he backs away. At the muffled, choked whine that you let out, WinWin chuckles and explains, “No, baby, not yet.”

So you let him push your head down to choke on Xiaojun, alternating between choking on Xiaojun and rocking back on Doyoung.

The swaying and rocking, the knocking of Doyoung inside you. It doesn’t surprise you when you feel a different movement inside you, a stirring of the little life in your belly. Yeah, you wish she would stay asleep while you’re in the middle of having sex, but you’re not surprised. You wouldn’t be able to sleep through all of this either.

You pull off of Xiaojun to gasp and loudly moan when Doyoung changes positions, mounting the bed so that he’s fucking into you at a different angle, now driving his cock right against your G-spot. 

“Oh, fuck, fuck!” You cry out, pressing your face against Xiaojun’s thigh. “Doyoung, oh--!”

The orgasm brought on by that direct G-spot stimulation is extreme. You don’t realize just how extreme until you can feel it leaking down your thighs. Whether you’re just squirting or pissing you’re not sure, but Doyoung doesn’t seem to mind either way, still fucking you through it, now just chasing his own high, his breathy desperate moans starting to make themselves known. 

You don’t quite have it in you to really blow Xiaojun, so instead you wrap your fingers around him, and jerk him off. His eyes roll back when you carefully drool on his tip, spreading the saliva around with your tongue before bringing your hand up to meet your lips, just sucking lightly at the tip, getting him nice and wet.

When Doyoung suddenly pulls out of you, you try to turn to look at him, but Xiaojun knots his fingers in your hair, pulling your mouth down on him, his hips pushing up, driving his cock to trigger your gag reflex.

And you’re actually pretty disappointed when you don’t get to see Doyoung’s face as he cums. You just hear his moans and feel the hot stripes of his cum between your legs, against your thighs, some getting on your belly. You can feel it dripping down the mound of your belly, down your thighs, soaking against your pussy.

Doyoung presses his cock back inside you, thrusting shallowly a few times until your legs quiver and he can feel a new wetness leaking out of you.

“Pretty. So fucking pretty, darling.” Doyoung compliments as he steps back. You hear his feet touch the floor, and then it’s just his thumb you feel, slick between your legs from the mess of his cum and the wetness of whatever’s come out of you. “And even prettier sucking Xiaojun like that.”

Xiaojun says something in Cantonese, just mumbles it under his breath, rocking his hips against your face.

He’s so close, you know it won’t take much longer.

And then Doyoung’s thumb wanders higher, and he draws it in a circle over your second entrance, applying just the slightest pressure, not necessarily like he’s trying to fit his finger inside your tight ass, just enough that you can feel the pleasurable anticipation of what it would feel like.

You moan around Xiaojun.

Whether Xiaojun meant to cum just from you blowing him, you don’t know. Maybe he intended to just have you keep him hard while he and WinWin waited for Doyoung to finish, either way, it doesn’t matter.

Xiaojun cums on your tongue, halfway out of your mouth, coating your tongue and your lips. You close your lips around his tip, sucking gently, not trying to miss a drop of what he’s giving you.

Doyoung moves away, out of your awareness, but WinWin kneels on the edge of the bed in his place.

Xiaojun grunts when your mouth gets to be too much, his hands press at your shoulders, and you lift up, trying to sit up on your knees. Xiaojun doesn’t let you get far before he’s got a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss and a murmured, “You’re amazing.”

A different pair of hands slide around you; one glides over the small of your back, and the other hand caresses your belly. You shiver, but don’t break the kiss with Xiaojun, not until WinWin reaches up and turns your face to the side with a gentle press of his fingertips to the side of your jaw.

“Me too. Don’t forget about me.” He whines with a tone that sounds like jealousy, and judging by the way he kisses you now, it was jealousy. His body presses right up behind yours, his erection fitting right against your ass, his arms are wrapped around you, hands caressing your belly, your head twisted around to kiss him.

You know you’ve still got Xiaojun’s cum on your chin and around your lips, still have Doyoung’s cum leaking from your pussy, but neither of those things seem to really bother WinWin. Even when his lips come in contact with the stickiness of Xiaojun’s semen, he just kisses you harder, kissing you clean.

He grinds forward, and you press back on him.

His name is a sigh off your lips, “Sicheng.”

He moans, passing his hands over your belly, and then moving back. “Lay down for me, sweetheart.”

You sink down onto your back, rubbing your hands over your belly as you look up at WinWin. Xiaojun slides closer to you, carefully brushing some of your hair back from your face, and then he leans in to kiss you softly.

“Baby, you okay?” Xiaojun asks. You nod without a word, relaxing as WinWin fills the space between your legs again, his thumbs stroking your thighs. 

“I’m so good, Junnie.” You moan, trying to lift your hips to WinWin’s touch. “You all are making me feel so good.” On the last word, WinWin spreads your thighs more, lifts your knees up toward your belly as much as he can, and he thrusts smoothly into you. 

Xiaojun presses his mouth to yours, but WinWin, in all his gentle jealousy, grinds into you and then strokes his hand up over the mound of your belly, to your sensitive breasts, and then easily shoves Xiaojun’s head away. Xiaojun rolls away with a groan, disappearing from the bed entirely.

“Look at me,” WinWin tells you, his voice soft but commanding. 

You do look at him, biting your bottom lip as your body flushes with heat. Your daughter rolls in your belly. You bring your hands to your tits, massaging them as WinWin thrusts into you, a hand still keeping one of your legs lifted, the other is on your belly right near where she just kicked.

“So weird...” WinWin murmurs, still touching your belly. She makes another move, pressing back against your hand. “Feeling her here inside you while we’re having sex.”

“Bit uncomfortable, isn’t it. Awkward.” You laugh a little. “But it’s okay. She doesn’t know what’s happening, it won’t hurt her. It’s just us, Sicheng. And I really, really, really want to make this moment amazing because in a few weeks she’ll be born and who knows how long it’ll be after that before we can have this again.”

“Mm, that’s true.” He ducks his head to place a gentle kiss on your belly. “Guess I’d better savor this. Savor you.”

And then he’s moving again--smooth, deep, slow thrusts, his body dancing with yours. You hold onto him, nails digging into his shoulders, fingertips dragging up his neck, holding his face to yours, kissing him as your bodies move together, the buzz building up under your skin, WinWin starting to make the adorable breathy noises, soft moans just for you.

He cums with a long moan, his mouth leaving yours, dropping down to kiss your throat, moaning “I love you,” still kissing you and moaning and thrusting steadily until you dig your fingers into his hair, holding on as you cum for him too.

WinWin’s not always one for cuddling. Usually he has to be bullied into it when it’s one of the boys trying to curl up with him. You’ve even had to beg him and just lay on top of him in the past. So now when he moves off to the side, then comes right back to rest his hand on your belly, you’re somewhat surprised. 

She’s still quite active, like she’s bouncing around in there on a trampoline, so you can’t just lie there for much longer. When you get up to pee you find where Doyoung snuck off to, showering with his back to you, but he finishes up as you’re finishing up, so you both redress and head downstairs again.

The rest of the presents from the shower had been brought inside, and if Chaerin and Lucas were still in the house, they weren’t down there anymore. You sink down on the sofa with Doyoung, kick your feet up, and when Taeyong appears from the kitchen a few moments later with a snack, he sits down right beside you (and you use your belly as a perfect built-in snack table).

You were thirty-five weeks along when it happened.

Over the last week you’ve been sleeping fitfully, unable to get comfortable. You took your chances to sleep when you got them: napping when you got home from work, napping on your lunch break, falling asleep with your head on Hendery’s shoulder as you watched a movie with him.

You were just constantly tired, ready to get this baby out of you, to have your body back to being yours alone, to get to meet her after so long.

Lately your dreams had been a mix of sweet dreams and nightmares. The nightmares often involved labor, complications, terrible things that left you in a panic when you woke, and if you were sleeping alone at the time, then you had to calm yourself down, but a few of your boyfriends had seen you in that state, and it terrified them just as much as it did you.

The sweet dreams were a relief. They also sometimes involved the birth, but it was always easy and in the way that dreams are, it would skip through it so she was there in your arms within moments, a healthy robust baby cooing and smiling up at you. She looked different in every dream, always having a prominent feature that would identify one of her potential fathers.

There was one particularly jarring dream that was somewhere between dream and nightmare, in which you actually gave birth to twins. You’d woken scared, your hands already flying to your belly. Taeil jolted awake beside you, feeling your sudden movement, but you’d soothed your own mind, telling yourself the doctor would definitely have noticed a second baby by now, and you’ve only felt one baby kicking. It was just a dream.

Your mother’s told you that these dreams are just anxiety related to motherhood. She had them too when she was pregnant.

So with only a few weeks left in the pregnancy, you were napping and dreaming and anxious about the reality of giving birth soon, and anxious too about the aftermath of raising your daughter.

On this particular day, you were dozing on the sofa in the living room, drifting in and out of dreams.

When you really wake up, you just stay still for a few moments, keeping your eyes closed. And after a few seconds you’re glad that you did.

You realize there’s a pair of hands on your belly, gently touching, and a soft voice murmurs to your daughter. It takes you a bit to understand who is talking and why you’re not understanding what he’s saying.

Ten.

You listen for a couple minutes, your insides feeling gooey soft and totally loved up at how tender his voice sounds. You open your eyes then, and Ten’s kneeling on the floor, speaking in Thai to your belly, to your daughter.

“What are you saying?” You ask him, reaching to touch his hair.

Ten jumps. “Sorry. I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“You didn’t.” You yawn and stretch your arms up over your head. 

Ten watches you quietly and then he stands up. “I was just talking to her. Telling her how much she’ll be loved once she’s out here. Talking names with her.”

“Oh? Did she answer?” You sit up, making room for Ten beside you, and he sits down, letting you tuck yourself against his side. “Because I’ve been thinking of names for months now and I can’t decide. I don’t even know what kind of name I should give her. Korean, Chinese, Japanese. Thai?”

Ten makes a soft noise. “I’ve thought of a few names. Thai names.”

“Can I hear them?”

“Anong. Duangkamol. Lamai. Chanthira.” Ten recites quickly, obviously having had these same names on his mind for a while now to be able to list them for you so quickly. “I maybe have told my mom about this whole situation, that I have a girl in my life who might be pregnant with my baby, and she was excited, maybe over-excited honestly, and sent me a long list of baby names and meanings and asked me all kinds of questions about you. I had to calm her down and remind her that the baby might not even be mine.”

“But she might be yours.” You sigh heavily. “I wish I knew which of you was her biological father. It would make everything so much easier. How are we even going to find out, just wait until she’s older and actually looks like one of you? Or just make each of you get a paternity test, and have the hospital staff then think I’m an absolute slut?”

“You are, but you’re our absolute slut,” Ten teases, giving you a kiss on the top of your head when you glare at him. “And we can probably just get a few of us tested as the father first. Probably Jaehyun, to get his anxiety over if he’s the daddy of his dreams.”

You laugh. “I really hope he doesn’t get pissed if he’s not. I know he keeps saying he won’t be, but....” You rub your belly, then look back up at Ten’s face. “Well, he’s jealous, we all know that about him.”

Ten nods. “He is, but he does love you a helluva lot. Jaehyun reentered this relationship just like all the rest of us, knowing what we were getting into. I think he’s probably a man of his word. If he says he’ll stick by your side even if she’s not biologically his, Jaehyun means it.”

“I hope so.” You sit up, stretch your arms over your head, groaning as your muscles stretch, and then you let out a little “oof” as you feel something like a jab in your belly.

Ten smiles and tries to flick his hair out of his face, but ends up shaking his glasses askew. 

You reach forward to adjust them for him. “You’re adorable.” 

The moment is broken when the door of the house bursts open. Taeyong comes inside, aiming for the stairs, but when he spots you and Ten on the sofa, he detours toward you. He flops down, dropping his head onto Ten’s shoulder. Ten immediately puts a soothing hand on Taeyong’s hair, stroking and lightly scratching his fingers there. 

Taeyong sighs and closes his eyes, and pouts as he says, “I’m so annoyed.”

“Still no good news on the solo?” You ask.

He nods. Ten makes sympathetic noises.

Over the last few weeks, Taeyong had been putting in extra hours in the studio, working on finalizing songs that he wanted to be good enough for his first solo album, something he knows the fans want. Today was a meeting with the powers that be in SM, those that would decide if the songs Taeyong had compiled would be good enough to make an album.

“They said that they were almost good enough.” He sighs again. “I’ve shown several of those songs to fans, to you guys, to my producers I’ve worked on them with. Fans are looking forward to the full-length and studio versions of these songs. I just want to release it.”

“Soon, Yongie.” Ten kisses Taeyong’s forehead. “Why don’t you go take a bath, relax. I have a present for you that I think will help. How’s that sound?”

Taeyong pulls his head back to look at Ten, his gaze suspicious.

“I don’t think I want to know.” You shake your head and stand up, putting a hand under your belly. “I think I’m going to see who wants to go with me to buy some more things for the baby. Taeil distracted me when we went shopping yesterday.”

“More?” Taeyong starts to ask, but as you walk toward the stairs, a strange feeling squeezes your belly, a pain that takes your breath away. 

Ten and Taeyong are there in an instant, hands on you, panicked voices calling your name, asking what’s wrong, are you okay? Just as you’ve straightened up and caught your breath to answer them, it happens again, the tight squeeze of your abdomen. 

“What do we do?” Ten asks Taeyong, one hand on your back, the other on your arm. Taeyong, looking equally panicked, shakes his head and glances upstairs. “Should we take her to the hospital? Call the doctor? Her mom?”

“No, no stop.” You gasp. “I’m fine. I’m not hurt, just surprised and uncomfortable. I’m-- I’m sure I’m fine. I just need to lie down.”

The sound of the boys’ surprise had called the attention of several of the others, and now Jaehyun nearly tumbles down the stairs to your side, Yuta, Xiaojun, and Lucas right behind him. 

“I just need to lie down. I’m not in labor, relax, all of you.” You put a hand on Yuta’s shoulder. 

“You need to quit your fucking job,” Jaehyun grumbles. “You’re thirty-what weeks pregnant, you don’t need to stress yourself out at work, exhaust yourself all day. It’s not worth it. Besides that, you’ve got us, what do you need to work for?”

You’ve had this discussion with them before. You don’t want to be entirely dependent on them, that’s why you work. But as a few of the others begin to agree with Jaehyun, you think that they may have a point for the time being. You’re heavily pregnant, there’s no reason that you need that unnecessary stress plus after you have the baby then you can take the time you need to recover and take care of her.

They all continue fussing over you as Lucas supports you up the stairs to your bedroom as the strongest man home at the moment. Your heart wallows in your chest as you feel the heat of his big hands; you’re still mourning the loss of that aspect of your relationship, but Lucas truly does seem immensely happy with Chaerin. He leaves you sitting on the edge of the bed, but Yuta and Jaehyun both linger.

“Are you sure you’re fine?” Yuta asks as he helps you rearrange yourself on the bed, resting back among the pillows at your headboard. 

You nod. “It’s just my body practicing. All good. Promise.” Your doctor’s told you about all of this, so you understand what’s happening. 

Both Jaehyun and Yuta look at you like they don’t entirely believe you. They coddle you, tucking you in, asking if there’s anything they can get you, asking if it still hurts, if you’re sure you’re okay. Jaehyun seems torn, and when Yuta turns to him looking irritated and says, “Just go, Jaehyun. She’s fine. And if she’s not, we’ll call you.”

“He has a schedule,” Yuta explains to you as Jaehyun leaves the room. “He’s supposed to be filming this evening. Do you want me to stay with you?”

“As long as you don’t ask me if I’m sure I’m fine anymore.” You put your hands on your belly. It feels fine now. “And I’ll definitely let you stay if you promise to rub my feet. They’re sore.”

Yuta smiles even as he teasingly rolls his eyes. “Do you think I love you or something? Rubbing your feet? What next?” But he sits at the end of your bed and gets right to work on massaging the tiredness out of your feet, which feels absolutely amazing. 

You keep touching your belly, and after a bit Yuta sighs and rests your feet back down on the bed. “Are you sure...?” He trails off not wanting to tack on the “you’re fine” element of that question. 

“I am.” You nod. “Seriously, Yuta. This happens, it’s just the body practicing for labor. I’m fine, please stop asking.” You hold out your hand, and Yuta slides up the bed and he lies down beside you, putting his hand on your belly too. “She knows that she’s got to stay in there for a few more weeks, then she can meet you all.”

“We’re all ready and excited to meet her.” Yuta smiles. “Little princess is going to keep all of us wrapped around her finger, but she should definitely wait a little longer. I had a dream about her a few nights ago; just me holding her, and she looked just like you, so beautiful and sweet, just asleep with her fingers wrapped around mine, and when I looked up from her, there you were.” He flicks his gaze between your lips and your eyes, his warm brown gaze softens as he drinks you in. 

“I don’t want her to look like me.” You settle on your side, and brush your fingers over Yuta’s cheek. “I want her to look like one of you, all of you. You’re all so attractive.”

Yuta turns his head to the side to kiss your hand. “And you think you’re not attractive, my love? You snagged fourteen guys at once, how do you think you managed that?”

“My wits and charms.” 

“Definitely a huge contributing factor.” Yuta laughs. “You know we love you, right? You’re not just a pretty face, you’re so much more, and we love everything about you.”

You hide your face in the pillow. “Stop, you’re embarrassing me.”

“Cute.” Yuta kisses whatever parts of your face he can get his lips on. “I love you, I love you, I lo--”

You turn your head and put your hands on Yuta’s cheeks, cutting off his professions of love as you drag his mouth against yours. 

“Mom, seriously, there’s no room!” You insist over the phone, rolling your eyes to Hendery’s amusement. 

“How is there no room?” You mother argues back. “There are how many boys living in that house, and you don’t think you can squeeze your mother in? Honey, you could go into labor any day now. I just want to be there to help you when it does. You’ve said yourself that due to his busy schedule, Johnny might not even be home when you go into labor. You can’t guarantee that any of them will be.”

And that is something that you have seriously been considering over these last few weeks, especially since that day when you felt the Braxton Hicks contractions. 

Now, with your due date just days away, with your weekly appointment having just revealed that your cervix is showing signs of the end of your pregnancy, your mother is insisting that she come stay at the house with you.

“I promise you, if I go into labor while I am home alone, you will be the first person I call.” You shift in your seat, trying to get comfortable which has become almost impossible over these last couple weeks. “Listen, Mom, I’ve gotta go, she is pressing right against my bladder.”

It’s not true, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned in this third trimester of your pregnancy it’s that excusing yourself to the bathroom because of the baby is a very useful excuse to exit conversations you’d rather not be a part of. You sit your phone down on the table and look over at Hendery again. 

“She’s too much,” you sigh. “You’re all taking good care of me, being observant, helpful. I don’t know what she thinks will be any different if she’s here.” You shift in your seat again, hoping the change in position would get rid of the cramping feeling. Fucking false labor pains.

Something must show on your face because Hendery’s face goes still and pale. “Are you alright?”

You nod wordlessly, settling back in your seat, and you’re grateful when Lucas walks through the doorway into the kitchen, distracting Hendery. They start talking and you stand up to walk around, hoping that it’ll ease this feeling.

But hours later it still hasn’t stopped. And when you go to the bathroom and find that you’ve lost your mucus plug, you sit there for a moment, overwhelmed with excitement and anxiety and fear that this is happening. Maybe not right now, but soon. 

You hold on to the firm belief that this is just false labor, even as you’re sitting on the sofa a little after one in the morning, breathing through a contraction, and that’s when Doyoung comes home, talking on his phone and laughing about something. But then he sees you clutching onto a throw pillow, trying to control your breathing.

“Shit, I’ve gotta go.” Doyoung drops his phone on the sofa on his way to you. “Baby, baby, is this it?”

“No.” You shake your head. “No, it’s not. Just false labor pains.”

“Okay.” Doyoung says, but then he sits down beside you, turns on the TV and sits there watching it, but you notice him keep looking at you, and when you inhale sharply at the beginning of a new contraction, Doyoung fully turns his attention away from the TV and stares at you. And the next time this happens he stares at you.

After the fifth contraction hits, Doyoung shakes his head and stands up. “You’re in labor. Your contractions are getting closer together, lasting longer. Do you really want to have your daughter right here on this sofa, or should we get you to the hospital?”

“Doyoung---”

He shakes his head. “No, you at least need a doctor just to make sure that you’re not in labor, if you’re so much in denial.” And then he’s leaving you, running up the stairs, and by the time he comes back down, you’ve decided that he’s definitely right. The contractions are stronger, closer together. 

Doyoung returns with Johnny in tow and a bag that you’d packed a few days ago while you were rushing around the house, cleaning and organizing and baby-proofing things. Jaehyun’s right behind them, pulling a jacket on, brushing his fingers through his hair. You can hear the rapid patter of more feet coming down the stairs. 

“Do you all think you’re coming, or something?” You groan as you push to your feet. “You can’t all come, that would be so suspicious and strange for anyone who sees you all.”

“I don’t care.” Mark steps forward. “She could be my daughter, and I’ll be damned if I’m not at least there at the hospital when she’s born.”

The volume in the room increases as the others agree, but before you can answer, another contraction hits, and you reach for your nearest boyfriend. Yuta grunts as you squeeze his arm and let out a stream of curses.

“To the hospital, come on, babe.” Johnny reaches for you, gently curling his arm around your shoulders, steering you away from Yuta, to the door of the house. “We’re going, and we’ll call your mom on the way there. The rest’ll follow in a bit.”

But there’s no arguing as Jaehyun climbs into the backseat, Mark right beside him, and when Yuta and Kun both scramble to fill the last empty seat you just groan and complain of feeling claustrophobic with the three boyfriends you’ve already got in the car, so both of them fall back, letting the car door close.

You look out the window as Johnny pulls away from the house, at the gathering of your boyfriends on the front step, watching you leave for the hospital to give birth to a baby fathered by one of them. 

You don’t get to see the utter panic of the boys in the waiting room. All fourteen of them filling the room. You can only imagine the odd looks they’re getting from the other people waiting out there, probably wondering why there are so many young men, all talking to each other, as if they know each other so well. You’re sure your father is sitting out there, surprised that, firstly, you don’t have Johnny (who he and your mother still believe to be the father) in the delivery room with you, and secondly, that all of the boys are there except for the Dreamies.

Not that you really think about any of that at the time, you’re too focused on, you know, going through labor with your mother at your side. 

So you don’t get to see when Taeyong and Jaehyun flag down a nurse to ask her about paternity tests, nor do you get to see her face when they tell her, no, it’s not just the two of them that are potentially the father. 

You don’t hear the panicked phone calls from managers when they realize that none of your boyfriends are at the house, or the ensuing arguments that break out when the managers say that they need to get home, shower, come in for recording or meetings or whatever’s on the schedule for them that day. 

They camp out around the waiting room for hours and hours, waiting for news, for anything.

And after a solid nine hours of waiting, your mother comes out into the waiting room, beaming and teary-eyed.

“She’s here. Healthy and chubby. Mei. Her name is Mei.” Your mother tells the anxious men before her.

They don’t all come in at once, scared of overwhelming you and the baby.

The first visitors into the room are your mother and father, Johnny, Jaehyun, Taeyong, and Kun. If you feel like hell, they look like it too. Taeyong looks raggedly tired. Jaehyun’s hair is a mess like he’s been raking his fingers through it. Johnny must have just been woken up, judging by the bleary look in his eyes. Kun just smiles warmly and sweetly as he steps inside the room. 

“Oh, God. She’s so little.” Jaehyun is the first at your side, his gaze soft, his hand hesitant as he reaches for her. His hand hovers above her little back, scared of touching her. Instead he looks at you, and asks, “How are you feeling?”

You nod. “I’m tired. But I’ve never been happier.”

You can barely take your eyes off of her. She’s tiny and pink and beautiful, her little warm body cradled against your chest. You can’t believe she’s really here, right here, and you’ve only just stopped crying. You’re tired and overjoyed and feeling so many things.

“I named her Mei.” You look up at the four of them. “Sorry I didn’t wait for any of you to decide. But look at her.” She draws your attention like you’re magnetized, bringing your gaze back to her.

“I think she looks kinda like me,” Kun murmurs as he comes to stand right beside Jaehyun. “Can we hold her?”

“I think she could look like anyone right now.” Taeyong stands quietly at the foot of your bed, staring with his wide, dark eyes at the swaddled baby in your arms. 

Johnny stands just behind him, also staring at you and the baby on your chest. He’s absolutely frozen, even when your mother wraps her arms around him in a hug, though he does robotically hug her back. He just stares as your dad thumps him on the back and congratulates him. 

Both of those occurrences cause Jaehyun to glare in Johnny’s direction. 

“Jae.” You lift a hand to take his, just wanting to ease his jealousy. “Do you want to hold her?”

“Well, wait.” Your mother speaks up. “Shouldn’t the daddy hold Mei first? Johnny?” She looks at the man who she believes to be the father. It’s like all the air goes out of the room. All four of your boyfriends in the room kind of freeze.

The time for the truth has finally come.

“Mom, Dad, I um... Johnny might not be her father. That was just something we told you so you could understand, so you wouldn’t freak out if you knew the truth.” You hold your breath for a moment, considering your next words, but at that moment Mei shifts, making a tiny sound, and once more every eye in the room is on her. 

“Well, then, who...?” Your mother looks around at the four men, then back at you and your daughter. 

You’re still holding Jaehyun’s hand and he squeezes it reassuringly. You say, “Don’t think less of me, please? It could be any one of the fourteen of them. I can’t explain the relationship to you, so please don’t try to make me. Just, I want you to know the truth now. It wasn’t so important before, but now she’s here, and they’re all here, and we can do a test to find out which of them it is.”

You can see the puzzle pieces fitting together in your parents minds. Comments and things from the last few months. 

“Is this why you said that you wouldn’t marry Johnny?” Your father asks.

“What the hell? He proposed to you too?” Jaehyun groans. 

You quickly shut that down. “No. Johnny didn’t propose. My parents just wanted me to marry my baby’s dad. No one other than Mark proposed, don’t worry about that.”

Your mother sits down heavily and puts her face in her hands. Ignoring her, you help Kun to hold Mei for the first time. Jaehyun crowds in close, then Taeyong drifts over. 

“Hi, Mei.” Kun coos at her. “Hi, little beautiful angel.” He kisses her little head, and you smile, watching the way that he’s so tender with her, the way that all four of them look at her with softened eyes. 

Johnny settles on the side of the bed, rubbing a soothing hand over your leg. He asks, “Are you tired?”

You nod. You’re very tired. 

“So sleep. We’ve got this.” Johnny scoops up your hand, brings it to his lips. “We’ll have the others come visit once you wake up again.”

Watching your parents interact with your thirteen boyfriends and Lucas over the next two days is kind of amusing. Your parents don’t know which of them is Mei’s father; you don’t know which of them is Mei’s father; they don’t even know which of themselves is the father. So everyone’s a bit awkward now with your little blob now fully formed and brought into the world, a little angel and bundle of joy. Mei. 

“You need to finish filling out the birth certificate.” The nurse tells you. And you know. You’ve been putting off filling out the name on the certificate. You want to give her her father’s name, but a large part of you wonders if you should just give her your last name.  

“We’re waiting on paternity results,” you tell the woman. 

She glances around the room, which at that moment is occupied by Lucas, Hendery, Ten, and WinWin. You know this nurse has seen all of the boys in here; you don’t know if she recognizes them, but you can feel the judgement radiating off of her. She was also there when a few of the boys got swabbed for the DNA test. 

When they were all done giving their DNA samples, you were told that the results might take around two to five days. And it’s been two days.

Ten’s in the bed with you, showing you picture and video proof that they’d finished baby-proofing the house for you. Hendery’s sitting beside Lucas, and Lucas is holding your daughter. WinWin’s sitting in the seat beside your bed, looking over at Lucas and Hendery and Mei, a far-away look in his eyes like he can’t believe that she’s finally here.

She seems like she could fit in just one of Lucas’s hands. Her whole little body in his ridiculously large hand. 

Lucas has Hendery snap a few pictures of him with her, and you hear him mention Chaerin. Your friend came to visit you already, tagging along with your friends who’ve already had kids. They all stayed for a while, cooing over Mei, giving you advice, but you could tell from the way that Chaerin was looking at your daughter, she was searching for any similarities to Lucas. Which was ridiculous. Even you can admit that your newborn daughter doesn’t look like any of the boys in particular. She looks like a baby.

You remember Lucas telling you one day during your pregnancy how worried he was about the possibility of him being a father, about the fragility of a newborn baby. But now you look over at him, at the way that he’s carefully holding her. He’s holding her properly because he’d spent the first five minutes of his visit asking you and the nurse on how to properly hold her, terrified of doing it wrong and hurting her.

“She’s not going anywhere, you know.” Ten chuckles, nudging his shoulder against yours. “You keep looking over there as if you think she won’t be there anymore.”

“It’s not that.” You shake your head. “I just like to look at her.”

Ten drapes his arm around your shoulders, tucking you into his side, and he kisses the side of your head. “You’re gonna be great at this, you know. This mom thing. Little Mei’s lucky. ”

Deep down you know he’s right, but at the surface of your mind right now are all the anxieties of being a new mom. You keep thinking about taking her home into a house with so many other people, so many loud noises, so many things going on. You think about being alone with her (which certainly hasn’t happened yet) and all the horrible things that you’ve heard about and read about online. You’re not sure you’ll be able to sleep when you do get home. You’ll probably just watch her sleep, keeping an eye on that reassuring rise and fall of her chest, listening for any little sound she might make that means that she’s hungry or messy or anything at all.

“You’ve got this.” Ten tells you now. “You’ve got us too, don’t forget that. You don’t have to do this all alone.”

You do have their help, you know that. That’s why Kun’s there later that day when you and Mei are discharged from the hospital. There’s a baby’s carseat installed in the backseat, and you sit yourself right beside it. 

You don’t have to look up to know that the whole drive to the house, Kun keeps throwing glances at you in the rearview mirror. 

“The kids are excited to meet her.” Kun tells you when you’re nearly home. You know he’s referring to the Dreamies and YangYang and even the new boys Shotaro and Sungchan, who have all been busy the last couple of days, unable to get the chance to come visit you at the hospital. “We told them to be quiet and gentle, to not scare her or anything like that. Haechan used some colorful language and then told us not to talk to them like they’re kids.”

Sure enough, they’re waiting as soon as you walk through the door. 

Kun carries Mei inside in her secure carrier seat. She’s deep asleep, which is lucky. You imagine it would be alarming to suddenly have your entire field of vision filled with half a dozen excited faces crowding in to see you.

“Ohh, she’s so cute,” Jaemin says. “So tiny.”

“She doesn’t look like any of you,” Chenle accuses with a laugh. 

“Well, she is one of theirs.” You retort. “Test results should come in any time now.”

A nervous tremor seems to pass around the room. Johnny laughs to break the awkward silence, “Maybe I should film all of us getting the results for JCC. Episode number whatever: you are the father.” 

Taeyong lets out a high-pitched nervous laugh. “I’m sure that would go over well with fans and our management.”

“Maybe we should wait and check the DNA test results all together,” Mark suggests as he crouches down to look at Mei in her carrier seat. You watch as he reaches a finger in, prodding it at her little palm, and her tiny fingers close around his. Mark lets out a shaky breath. 

“I don’t want to wait.” Lucas says. “I want to know as soon as possible.”

You understand that. And you agree. “I think you should look when you get it. I feel like we always wait and have these big moments together, like the gender reveal and even just when I told you all that I was pregnant. Maybe this time it should be different.” 

Quiet murmurs around the room, agreements. Mark sighs, but doesn’t look away from Mei’s little round face. “Okay, so when we get the results, we can look at it whenever we want. To see if she’s my daughter.” He lets out another shaky breath, as if he’s trying to steady himself, to still wrap his mind around her being here and real.

“I just want to look at her,” Jungwoo admits quietly, sitting down beside Mark and looking in at her. Haechan sits right behind them, peering between their shoulders at her. “Look at her eyelashes, her nose. She looks like a doll.”

She really does look like a little doll. Everyone just looks at Mei, admiring her, adoring her, not removing her from the carrier until she wakes up some time later and immediately starts crying. The sound makes your heart race, nerves of doing this for the first time with no nurse to help you if anything goes wrong, like if she suddenly decides that she won’t latch on (which so far hasn’t been a problem, but everything you read in the last weeks of your pregnancy suddenly rises to the forefront of your mind). 

Some of the boys back away cautiously when you lift her from the carrier, and you laugh. “It’s like you’ve never seen a baby before. Relax,” you tell them and you tell yourself. “Don’t any of you want to hold her?”

Several of your boyfriends have held her when they visited you in the hospital, but not all of them. To your surprise, Jungwoo hadn’t held her yet despite how excited he’d been all throughout your pregnancy. Yuta had held her once, just staring at her in awe, holding her so gently as if she was made of glass, almost holding his breath while she looked back at him.

"What’s her name again?” YangYang asks, sidling up beside you. He wiggles his fingers down at her, then gives her one of his fingers to hold on to. “Can’t we just keep calling her Little Blob?”

“No.” You roll your eyes at him. “Her name is Mei.”

You knew her name the moment you saw her, even before you saw her. In the last few weeks you’ve thought about it a lot, thought about names in different languages, different meanings. And now you know. Mei. It works in Chinese, in Japanese, even kind of in Korean. Beautiful. 

You spend the rest of the day settling Mei in, sleeping when she sleeps, feeding her. Taeyong sits in your room while you use the toilet, a process that you wish you could entirely avoid this soon after birth. You leave him there watching her, holding her, cooing at her. Just as you’re coming out of the bathroom, wrapped in a soft robe, you hear Taeyong whispering to her, and see Mei staring up at him, her whole hand tight around his pinky finger, and Taeyong looking at her with pure adoration, like she’s his whole world.

Jaehyun comes in as you’re sitting there with Taeyong, your chin tucked over his shoulder, both of you looking down at her. Jaehyun slides onto your bed, a hand sliding down your arm, over your waist, his other hand reaches around and he ever-so-lightly strokes Mei’s soft cheek.

Instinctively she turns her head toward his fingers, and Jaehyun makes this small indecipherable sound.

You turn your head to the side, just enough that you can see his face. You can see it in his eyes right then, can see just how badly Jaehyun wants her to be his daughter. You can see how much he wants this moment to be just you and him, for her to be in his arms, for the rest of his future to be you and her and him. How he wants sleepless nights trying to rock Mei back to sleep. How he wants to wake up in the night to her little hands and small voice asking him to come scare away the monsters under her bed. How he wants to have random strangers look at the two of them and say how similar they look.

You think she’d be adorable with his dimples.

Taeyong passes her back to you when she starts to get fussy, and when you start to loosen up your robe, Taeyong excuses himself from the room, leaving you and Jaehyun.

Jaehyun tries his best to not stare as you breastfeed. He’s seen your tits a hundred times, but suddenly the sight of them makes him blush, the tips of his ears pink as he looks over at the crib in the corner and the rocking chair, the stuffed animals. Anywhere but at your breasts.

You smile at his embarrassment, and look down at her. 

You like to imagine that you can tell which of them is Mei’s father now that she’s here. That just by looking at her, you can pick out features that point to the boys. Her skin’s pale enough that she could be Jaehyun’s with his lighter skin. Sometimes you look at her little nose and think that it looks like Taeil’s. Her eyes are big, wide, dark and she has beautiful eyelashes which honestly could be several of the boys. But honestly, looking at her, she does look overwhelmingly like one of them, you know she does. You just can’t figure out which of them.

After she falls back asleep some time later, you put her down in her little crib, and you sit down on the edge of the bed and just keep looking at the crib.

Jaehyun pats the bed. “Lay down, babe. You should sleep while you can.”

“I know.” You sink back, then tuck yourself against Jaehyun, glad that you have someone here with you. You feel Jaehyun relaxing with you in his arms, his lips brushing your temple, his nose in your hair. You tilt your head back so you can look Jaehyun in the eye as you ask, “If I fall asleep, will you keep an eye on her?”

“Of course.” Jaehyun glances over toward the crib. “I’ll take care of her and I’ll take care of you, and right now, your priority is taking care of you. Sleep.”

When you wake from your nap, Jaehyun’s sitting in the rocking chair beside the crib, gazing down at Mei in his arms as she holds on to his finger. And it’s not just the three of you. Miso has entered the room too, and he sits on the foot of your bed, staring at Jaehyun and Mei.

Throughout the pregnancy, your cat had shown little to no interest in your belly. Once or twice you’d woken up in your late pregnancy to find him curled up in bed with you, his head on your belly, but that was it. One of those times, your little baby had kicked right where Miso’s head was, and he’d lifted his head looking irritated, and swatted gently back at your belly.

So you’re not quite sure how he’s going to react to her now. It took him so long to warm up to the boys. Even now he only lets a few of them approach him without him fleeing, even less of them can hold him. But when he hops off the bed and walks over to curl up beneath the crib, with his eyes following the movement of Jaehyun gently rocking in the chair, you think maybe this will all be okay.

“How is she?” You sit up, rubbing at your eyes. 

“Perfect.” Jaehyun looks up at you. “She’s just been sleeping.” He strokes her cheek with his thumb, and he sighs as he also touches the shell of her ear. 

There’s a look on his face that you can’t quite decipher, and before you can ask him, the door opens. Doyoung peeks around the door. His eyes run over you in the bed, over Jaehyun in the chair, down to Mei, and then back to you. His fingers are white on the door. 

“I just got an email. The results.” Doyoung wags his phone. “I think some of the others might have them too.”

He comes inside and flops down on the bed beside you. Doyoung’s hair falls in a messy array around his head, and he lets out a nervous noise, reaches for your hand, and lays it on his chest. “My heart is racing. God.”

“Don’t be nervous, Doyoungie.” You drum your fingers on his chest. “What do you want? So few of you have actually told me what you’re hoping for.” You look back at Jaehyun, and he’s looking at you, the light of certainty in his eyes, as if he’s trying to reassure you that he wants his result to be a positive paternity.

“I love you,” Doyoung says quietly, just for you to hear. “It doesn’t matter if she’s mine or not. I’ll love her like my own. Shall we look?” 

You can almost hear Jaehyun holding his breath in the corner, his mind racing as he worries if this is going to be positive. 

Doyoung holds his phone up over his face, unlocks it, and right there is the email. You put your head right beside his, looking up at the little screen. Doyoung reads quicker than you do, and as you hear his shaky exhale, you see the conclusion, reading that Doyoung is not the father.

“Well?” Jaehyun asks from across the room. 

“It’s not me.” Doyoung drops his phone back down onto his chest. “So you still have hope, Jaehyun.”

Over the next few hours, a few more of the boys come find you, each of them with their results, all negative. 

Second was Mark, wandering in just a few minutes after Doyoung. The way his face fell when he saw the negative result made you want to kiss him and promise him you’d give him a baby of his own as soon as you were able. Jungwoo slipped into the room, barely glancing at Jaehyun who still sat over in the corner rocking Mei, and Jungwoo tells you that his result was negative also.

“Which is a good thing, probably. I don’t think I’d be ready for this. Dad Jungwoo? No, Uncle Jungwoo sounds much better to me.” He kisses you on the forehead as if you’re supposed to feel some sense of relief instead of a tightening in your gut as your boyfriends are wheedled away.

Ten finds you later that night as you’re standing in the kitchen grabbing a bite to eat. “I’m going to have to break my mom’s heart when I call her next time,” Ten says as he shows you his email. “I think she really was looking forward to having a granddaughter, but I’m not so sure she’s going to get a biological grandchild from me.” He scuffs his toes across the floor, takes a deep breath, then asks, “Can I talk to you?”

The tightness in your belly winds even tighter. “Yes?”

“I love you,” Ten tells you as he takes your hand. “You’re like my best friend, and we always have so much fun together, and I feel like I can talk to you about everything and anything, which is why I don’t think it’ll be too much for me to tell you that I think it’s time for me to exit this relationship. I’ve had fun, and I love getting off with you. But I think I’d be happier in a different relationship.”

You’re not terribly surprised. Ever since the start of the pregnancy, probably even before then, Ten and you had been withdrawing from each other in terms of the sexual aspect of this relationship. He was more often entangling himself with your other boyfriends than with you, so this doesn’t feel so much like a break up, rather it’s like it just fizzled out. 

“I’m not ruling out the possibility of still having sex with you in the future, though.” Ten makes sure to wink as he says it, nudging you with his arm. 

Xiaojun, Hendery, Taeil. All three are negative. Xiaojun looks upset at first, honestly disappointed. Hendery lets out a sigh of relief before apologizing for feeling so relieved. Taeil just kind of shuts down upon seeing that it’s not him, and when you try to talk to him about it, he says something that just really makes you sad.

“It’s fine,” he sighs. “I wasn’t really expecting it to be me anyway. I wouldn’t be that lucky.” 

Even with half of the boys marked off the list of fathers, that knot in your belly is still tight. 

The next day, only Lucas gets his emailed result. You’re sitting at the kitchen table with Jaemin and YangYang and still-glum Taeil. Lucas’s face goes pale as he looks over at you and your daughter, his grip white-knuckled on his phone as he checks out the email that has the potential to change his entire future.

The answer is this: a deep, long sigh he lets out, his entire body relaxing, a laugh bubbling out of him and his wide smile stretching his lips.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be this happy about this.” He covers his mouth. “It’s not me. Sorry, Mei.” He stands up, comes over and places a very gentle kiss on her head. “I’ve gotta go tell Chaerin. I promised her I’d tell her the results as soon as I got them.” And then he’s gone from the room. 

You can’t deny the slight relief you feel too. You wouldn’t have wanted Lucas to be so locked into this when he’s the only one who’s truly left the relationship entirely, moved on and all that. 

And when you wake on the fifth day, you can feel the energy buzzing in the house. It’s late into the morning already, so several of the guys are awake. You were just up a few hours before, feeding and trying to calm Mei down, but the house had been otherwise quiet then. Now you can hear semi-excited voices echoing from down the hallway, from downstairs too. 

As the number of possible fathers has dwindled, your remaining boyfriends had grown more and more excited. Or anxious might be the better word. Johnny, Taeyong, Yuta, Kun, Jaehyun, and WinWin had yet to get their results. 

Mei’s still asleep at the moment, and you move over to stand beside the crib, looking down at her little sleeping form. She was blessed with a decent amount of thick, black hair right away, and it looks messy at the moment. You want to reach down and smooth it into place, but you know that in doing that you just might wake her.

So you hold your breath and keep quiet and still, just watching her, watching her chest rise and fall.

You feel the movement from the other side of the room more than hearing it. Quiet footsteps from the door toward you, and then an arm sliding around your waist, a body knocking against your side.

“Hey, good morning.” Taeyong squeezes you gently. “We have some news.”

“Yeah?” 

Taeyong hums in confirmation. “Johnny woke me up this morning when he dropped his phone when he saw that he had his results. So I checked and saw I had mine too. Jaehyun said he still doesn’t have his results though, so Johnny and I checked ours.” You look sideways at him as he drops his head, and he murmurs, “Neither of us. But I’m pretty sure I heard Yuta say through the wall that his result was in.”

Yuta, Kun, Jaehyun, and WinWin. 

One of them is the father. 

You sigh heavily, resting your head on Taeyong’s shoulder. His nose touches your hair and then he stands up a little straighter. 

“Don’t stress, baby.” Taeyong rubs his hands up and down your side. “How are you feeling? Do you need more sleep? Some time to yourself? Because there are about sixteen of us in this house right now that can watch Mei so you can catch a little more sleep.” He senses your hesitation, so suggests, “Or we can call your mom to come over, if you don’t trust us.”

You turn around then to face Taeyong. “It’s not that I don’t trust you all. Some of you are good with kids and babies, one man in this house is her father. Of course I trust you guys with her. But, I also wouldn’t put it past some people in this house to get overly rambunctious when she’s around, and I just don’t--”

The door opens again, Johnny looking in. “Hey, did he tell you?” 

“That we’re down to the final four? Yeah.” You step away from Taeyong, stretching your arms over your head. The shirt you wore to sleep lifts up, and you feel the cool air touching your belly. You catch Johnny’s eyes looking, and you quickly tug your shirt down, feeling embarrassed about how you look right now. It was one thing when your belly was big from the baby inside you, but now she’s evacuated, and your uterus and abdominal muscles are still working on coming to terms with that. 

“I don’t need anyone else to watch her. I’ve got it.” You turn to Taeyong again.

He bites his lip, looking imploringly past you to Johnny. 

Johnny clears his throat. “Babe, don’t take this the wrong way. But you’ve been home for, what, three days now?” He comes farther into the room, standing between you and your ensuite, edging nearer to the crib. Johnny glances at Taeyong, then back at you. He asks, “How many hours of sleep have you gotten? And, uh, we love you, we truly do, but, babe, you stink. Please take a shower.”

Something hot, like shame and embarrassment, flushes through you.

“No, don’t be like that.” Johnny steps forward quickly. “None of us wanted to say anything because you’re obviously busy and focused on taking care of Mei, but at some point you need to focus on you. Let us take her off your hands for just half an hour. That’s all. Can you trust us to do that?”

Your face is burning. How can you say no after that? Do you really smell that bad? You knew that you were sweating in your sleep, but you didn’t think it was that much. You also didn’t realize that you hadn’t showered since you got home from the hospital. 

“Okay. But just please be careful with her.” You glance down at her in the crib as she makes a little sound. “Maybe I should--”

“No.” Johnny and Taeyong both say it at the same time.

Mei stretches her arms above her head, wiggling as she blinks and opens her eyes fully. Her little face scrunches up, and you know that she’s about to cry. You take a step toward her, but Taeyong beats you to it. 

He scoops her up in his arms. 

“Shh. Shh, you’re okay.” He holds her against his chest. “You’re fine, Mei. Momma’s gonna go get clean and fresh, and you get to spend some time with Uncle Tyong.” He kisses her head, cradling her, swaying from side to side. From where you stand, you can see that she’s just staring up at his face, all signs of fussiness gone.

“Go shower.” Johnny’s hand curls over your shoulder. “And don’t rush, okay? Take a little time for yourself.”

Taeyong’s still murmuring to Mei, talking to her in a sweet baby-voice when you step through the door into your bathroom, and as you’re undressing, you can hear him and Johnny leaving your room, which also makes you nervous. You’re going to shower quickly.

As you wait for the water to warm up, you hear your bedroom door open, you hear your name, and then a soft knock on the bathroom door. Jaehyun opens the door, looking around at you. “Where’s Mei?”

“Taeyong’s got her.” You fold your arms in front of you, trying to hide your belly from his view, but it’s too late. You know he’s already seen, but he just smiles and looks you up and down again. “He and Johnny reminded me that I need to shower. Do I really smell bad?” 

Jaehyun avoids looking at you for just long enough that you know you’ve got your answer. Then he smiles all sweetly and says, “Can I shower with you?”

“I hope you know you’re not getting anything out of this.” You step back toward the shower. “Just a shower.”

Jaehyun nods, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. He strips naked quickly and follows you into the shower. Jaehyun’s gentle as he helps you suds up your hair with shampoo, as he kisses you. You relax with his hands on you, and you knit your fingers in his hair, holding his mouth to yours. 

Maybe it is nice having a house full of babysitters, so you can catch a few minutes of you-time right here.

How many parents can just take some time to make out in the shower when they’ve got a newborn?

“Oh, that reminds me.” You pull back from the kiss, patting your hand on Jaehyun’s chest. “Did you get your result yet? It’s just you, Yuta, WinWin, and Kun left. All your dreams are this close to coming true.” You wrap your arms around his neck.

Jaehyun groans and rolls his head back on his shoulders. 

“What?” You ask. “Jaehyun? What does that reaction mean?”

“I got my result right after Doyoung got his.” Jaehyun quietly admits. “I felt the notification in my pocket while he was laying there with you, checking his result.” His throat bobs. “I was just scared to check it.”

“Jae.” You slip your arms from around his neck, sliding your hands down into his, squeezing them. “You know that no matter what the result is, you can still be her dad?”

He sighs and presses his face against your shoulder. The shower’s spray bounces off his shoulders, the sound filling your ears. Jaehyun suddenly seems so small and tired and nervous. “It’s the jealousy, I think, that made me really scared to check the email. I don’t want to be jealous. I know that even if I’m not her biological father, I can still be her dad. But I want to be her only dad because I’m a jealous dick. That’s what Yuta called me the other night when I was complaining about that.”

“Can we check what the email says when we get out of here?” You rake your fingers through his soaked hair. Jaehyun nods against your shoulder. 

Once you’re both out of the shower, Jaehyun piddles around, wasting time fixing his hair in the bathroom, taking his time when he leaves back to his room to dress, and then when he comes back into your room, he returns with Yuta and a fussy Mei. Yuta passes her off to you, explaining that he thinks she’s hungry or needs her diaper changed.

“Well, then this would be a good time for both of you to learn to change her diaper, wouldn’t it?” You lay her on the little changing table you have in the corner, beckon both Jaehyun and Yuta over.

Jaehyun moves slower, looking reluctant to have to face that, but Yuta comes over right away.

“Oh God.” He brings his hand up to cover his nose as the mess in your daughter’s diaper is revealed. “Why does it look like that?”

“She’s on a diet of breastmilk, Yuta. And she’s only a few days old. It’s not going to look like an actual poo.” You step aside, looking over at Jaehyun who’s standing behind you. “Well, I’m not going to be the only one in this relationship changing her diapers. Come on. This is a learning experience.”

Yuta makes the first move, and you know he’s just trying to rile up Jaehyun when he says, “Her dad can take care of a little dirty diaper. Isn’t that right, Mei?” And then he starts speaking to her in Japanese.

Jaehyun frowns, and he steps forward, elbowing Yuta out of the way. “I can do this. It’s just a diaper, right?”

After a few minutes of them whining and groaning and taking breaks to gag (it’s really not that bad), little Mei has a fresh diaper and she’s settling in again. Yuta stands beside the crib, his arms folded on the wooden gate, his chin resting on them as he watches her wave her hands up at the mobile that spins around over her head.

Jaehyun settles back onto your bed, his arms behind his head, feet kicked out. His phone rests face-up on his belly.

Just as you’re about to bring it up to Jaehyun again about checking his email, you hear another ding. Yuta stiffens up at the crib, and you can see his phone screen lighting up his pocket from a notification. He straightens up, fishes his phone out of his pocket, and then sits down on the edge of your bed too.

“Well, what does it say?” You sit on the bed between them. Both Yuta and Jaehyun are holding their phones now, white-knuckled, faces drawn and pale. “Let’s take a look. Go on.”

They’re both moving slowly, reluctantly, so you grab one of Jaehyun’s hands, one of Yuta’s hands, and hold them in yours for reassurance.

Together, they lift their phones, unlock them. Your eyes dart back and forth between them, as if you’ll be able to read the light on their faces or see the tiny print reflected in their eyes. So instead you look down into the triangle of your duvet between your folded legs. And you wait expectantly for one of them to say....

“It’s me.” 

His voice is hoarse. Hoarse but full of relief and excitement at newfound fatherhood, but also fear and worry and so many anxieties. He says again now, “I’m Mei’s father.”

You lift your head and look straight ahead at where WinWin stands framed in the doorway, holding out his phone, the screen all lit up, the email pulled up right there with the evidence. And he’s smiling. Because he’s the father, because his daughter that is half him and half you and entirely perfect in every way is on the other side of the room.

Jaehyun’s off the bed before you can move, and he’s standing in front of WinWin to jerk the phone from his hand to check the result, to see it with his own eyes.

Yuta stays planted on the bed with you, his fingers knotted with yours as he looks back down at his phone. He tilts it so you can see his email, see the result that confirms that he is not a DNA match with Mei. “Doesn’t mean I’ll love her any less,” Yuta mumbles as he brings your hand up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss. “As far as I’m concerned, there’s some part of my DNA in her, and I’ll treat her as such until the day neither you or her wants me in your lives.”

“Thank you, Yuta.” You rest your head on his shoulder for a moment. “I love  you.”

“Love you too. You should probably go over there.” He nods at where Jaehyun is still staring down at WinWin’s phone with a truly shocked and sad look on his face. “I’m good, my love. Go talk to the new Papa and the depressed not-dad.”

When you slide up to them, your hand drifts over Jaehyun’s lower back, and your other hand you lift to WinWin’s cheek.

“Hi, daddy.”

WinWin smiles, wide and shy, excited. “I’m a dad.” His gaze flicks toward Jaehyun as your other boyfriend hands his phone back. “Jae, are you mad?”

Jaehyun shakes his head quietly and looks away. “Not mad. On some level I knew I wasn’t her dad. I mean, someone said it a few months ago. I often sat to the side during sex, so I had less of a chance than the rest of you all. And then as soon as she was born, I could tell she doesn’t look like me.” He looks over at the crib again, then back at WinWin, and he reaches up, fingers brushing WinWin’s pointy ear. “She has his ears, so I had a feeling.”

She does? You hadn’t noticed that, not consciously but perhaps subconsciously you had. Maybe that’s the little thing that you’d noticed that made you think she looked like one of them. 

“I’m not mad. I’m not even upset really. Relax.” He cups his hand agains the back of your head, stroking your hair gently with a soft smile on his face. “I’m going to eat something. Yuta hyung?” Jaehyun steps away from you and WinWin. “We should leave the happy parents with their sweet girl.”

“And break the news to Kun, if he hasn’t already seen his result.” Yuta pushes off the bed, kissing your cheek as he passes you by, and ruffling WinWin’s hair. He slaps his hand down on WinWin’s shoulder too. “Congrats, WinWin.”

WinWin grins. “Thanks, Yuta.”

And as Yuta and Jaehyun walk out the door together, Yuta throws his arm around Jaehyun’s shoulders. “Better luck to us both next time, right?”

The door closes, and WinWin sighs lightly, sinking into you, pulling you in for a hug, but he also tips your head back, capturing your lips in a kiss. You smile into the kiss, laughing when WinWin does too.

“My family is going to be so surprised,” WinWin says to you. “When I tell them I have a daughter that was just born. Dong Mei.”

“Dong Mingmei.” You correct him. “Mei is just the name that was in common for all of the names I was considering. Mei’s her Korean name. Mingmei in Chinese. Maybe we should go visit your family when she’s a little older, when she can travel. Oh, I need to finish filling out the birth certificate. Give our daughter your name.”

You slip out of his arms, taking his hand and pulling him with you to the crib. Mei’s still staring up at the spinning mobile, but her eyelids are heavy, and now that you look at her, you can see what Jaehyun was saying about her ears. The one comes to an elfin point, like WinWin’s one ear does.

WinWin wraps his arms around your waist, his warm chest against your back, and his cheek rests atop your head. “We made a beautiful baby.”

You heart swells in your chest, looking down at your newborn daughter as her eyes close, watched over as she falls into sweet dreams by the two people who will forever and always adore her.

gimme that: a drabble <- Previous || Next -> Fresh Air

a/n: so I had already decided on the name Mei when I realized that’s the same name I used for the baby in we got that good love (the daddy/husband Kun smut), but that was just a coincidence. I chose it because it’s a name that works in Japanese, Chinese, and kinda even in Korean.

Anyway, thank you so much for reading. This one was a long one, oof sorry about that. Sharing, commenting, feedback are all greatly appreciated! Please let me know what you thought!

[triptuckers]

The Necklace - Captain Rex

Request: no Pairing: Captain Rex x jedi!reader Summary: Five times you and Rex have given each other your necklace, and the one time you wear it for the last time Warnings: major character death!!, angst, mentions of serious injuries, burning, blood, bruises Word count: 3.2K A/N: I always wonder why do I do this to myself .. anyway, my brain made me write this and put it out there. I deeply apologise for this feel free to send me ur therapy bills TAG LIST (all star wars fics): @parker-natasha​ @romanoffstarkovs​ @just-deka​

One.

It’s quiet in the Temple. You have to admit it’s rarely crowded in the halls. The Temple is quite a large building, and not nearly enough Jedi to fill it. And even if there were, at least half would be off fighting the war.

You’re grateful for the time you get to spend at the Temple. The long hallways always calm you down. No matter how long you had been away, it always felt good to come home to the Temple where you’d grown up.

It’s the place where you learned the ways of the force, where you’d spent hours reading everything you could find on the Jedi and their ways. You’d meditated in the gardens countless of times, and you’d found your family.

But most importantly, you met Rex.

He knew just as well as everyone else attachment was against the Jedi code. Still, you were pulled to one another by some sort of feeling you couldn’t explain. It made you want to spend every moment you got with him.

As your relationship blossomed, you knew you had to talk about the restrictions. You didn’t like it, but there were just some rules you had to follow, for both yours and Rex’ sake.

It didn’t stop you from occasionally sending a flirtatious wink his way, if only to watch his cheeks flush as he tried to remain focused on his tasks.

You were desperate for some kind of affection outside the safe walls of your quarters. When you were on a planet near the Outer Rim, and you waited as they refuelled your ship, you took the opportunity to check out the local market.

You found a beautiful, handcrafted silver necklace, and you just couldn’t leave it behind. When you got back to Coruscant, you showed the necklace to Rex, and you noticed how much he loved it.

When you wanted to give the necklace to him, he declined, saying it looked too good on you, that he couldn’t take it from you. So, you made a promise. The one wearing the necklace would give it to the one who wasn’t wearing it whenever they saw them, with the promise they’d be there to wear it again next time you’d meet.

Your walk around the Temple takes you through the silent halls. You don’t really notice where you’re going, your mind wandering off to other places. You turn a corner and see a door opening in the distance.

A few Jedi, Anakin, Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, Mace and Yoda exit the room, followed by Rex and Cody. You smile at them and they all greet you as they go their separate ways.

Rex is deep in conversation with Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Cody, but briefly stops when you pass him. He takes the necklace off and gives it to you with a smile. You return the smile as you put it on, and Rex continues his conversation with the others while you continue your walk, the necklace bouncing against your chest with every step you take.

Two.

You’ve done it a thousand times before, but landing near a battle is still something that could get your anxiety up. That creeping fear that a well aimed blaster shot could take out your engines and send you to the ground a lot faster than you intended, would never ease.

You hold on tight as the ship starts its landing.

The 501st and the 212th were already on the scene, fighting for their lives. Everyone had thought that they would manage, but that was before the Separatists sent in reinforcements. Because you and your men were closest, you received an urgent comm from Anakin and didn’t hesitate before gathering all of your men and heading towards their position.

Once you’ve landed and everyone has left the ship, you start giving out orders. Even though you’re not near the heat of the battle, you have to yell to be heard over the shouts and blaster shots from others.

You send your men to the frontlines while you take your second in command to look for the other generals and commanders.

As you’re running through the chaos, you’re contacting Anakin. Luckily, he responds almost immediately.

‘We saw your ship!’ he says loudly. ‘We’re on the right side, near the trees!’

‘Copy!’ you shout in your comm and you wave your second din command over, making for the tree line in the distance. You glance at the troopers as you’re running, trying to find Rex. He might be next to Anakin and Ahsoka, waiting for you to arrive. But you know Rex, and it’s also very possible he’s in the front lines.

It takes shorter than you expected to cross the battlefield. When you make it to the trees, you quickly spot your fellow Jedi, and Rex and Cody along with them.   Ahsoka is the first to notice you, and she waves at you as you’re running toward them.

You come to a halt in front of them, panting.

‘Thanks for coming so quickly.’ says Obi-Wan.

‘Yeah.’ you manage to say in between breaths. ‘What’s our status?’ you ask as you take off your necklace and blindly hand it to Rex, who is standing next to you.

‘We’re suffering a lot of casualties.’ says Ahsoka, not taking notice in you giving Rex the necklace.

‘You and your men are much needed.’ says Rex, and you turn to look at him. ‘We’re severely outnumbered.’ he says as he puts on the necklace.

‘We have a plan, though.’ says Anakin, and he starts explaining it.

Three.

It takes you a while to figure out what caused you to suddenly wake. You didn’t have any plans or meetings you had to attend to today, and you had planned on a relaxed morning of just staying in bed.

Your legs are tangled with Rex’, and one of his arms is swung across your stomach. Mornings like these are rare, and you wish you could stay like this forever.

No war, no pain or suffering, no Separatist this or Jedi business that. Just you and Rex, holding each other.

Occasionally, you hear soft snores coming from his side of the bed. You raise your hand to softly run it over his back. It’s only then, that you realise it isn’t his snores that woke you.

You comm is beeping furiously on the bedside table.

For one of the first times, you’re seriously considering just ignoring it. You didn’t have any plans today, you even declined Ahsoka’s offer of a training session, stating you needed your rest now that you didn’t have any formalities to attend. And with rest you meant staying in bed with Rex.

But what if it’s important? Says an annoying little voice in the back of your head.

You groan softly, reaching out to try and get a hold of your comm. You can’t reach it, but you also don’t dare to shift, scared of waking Rex. So instead, you use the Force and let your comm device land in the palm of your hand.

‘Yea?’ you say. It’s Anakin who answers.

‘Hey, Y/N, do you think you’ve got time to go over some maps with me? I’m assigned to traveling with Senator Amidala, she needs to go settle another trade incident. It doesn’t seem like a big deal, but these maps sure do.’ he says.

‘Can’t Padmé go over those maps with you if she’s the going to the planet in the first place?’ you ask, not wanting to leave your comfortable and warm bed.

‘She’s on Naboo. I’m supposed to pick her up on the way there.’ answers Anakin.

‘Okay, fine. I’ll come see you at your quarters in a few minutes.’ you say.

‘Thanks!’ says Anakin.

You sigh and throw the comm device on the bed. You look to your side and see Rex is still asleep. It makes you chuckle. You could probably drop a bomb on the building, and the sound just wouldn’t wake him up.

You slowly untangle your legs from his and lift his arm so you can get up. You silently get dressed before hovering over his body.

Kisses are pressed to his cheeks, nose and forehead. Rex only shifts a bit, but doesn’t wake up. You take the necklace off and carefully place it around his neck. With one last kiss, you leave your quarters and head for Anakin’s.

Four.

You exhale sharply when you land on your back.

‘And that-’ says Ahsoka’s voice above you. ‘Is how you take someone out when you don’t have your lightsaber on you.’

A small round of applause comes from the younglings you’re teaching. Originally, they were Ahsoka’s class but she asked you to join her in some examples, and you agreed. Though she hadn’t told you just how many times she was going to throw you on the ground.

‘Impressive.’ you say as you take a hold of Ahsoka’s extended hand and allow her to pull you to your feet.

‘All right kids.’ you say to the small group of younglings in front of you. ‘You’ve seen how it works now. Pair up with someone else and go try it out yourselves.’

They all excitedly pair up and get to work. You smile as you watch them struggle, thinking back to your own training sessions as a youngling.

‘I’m pretty sure we weren’t that small when we were younglings.’ you say to Ahsoka. ‘You were.’ she says, making you raise your eyebrows at her. ‘I’m taller than you.’ you protest, making her laugh out loud.

You watch the younglings for a while, correcting them every now and then. They’re very good for kids their age, and you can tell they’re fast learnings. You’re wondering if one of them might become your padawan, and about all the things you could teach them.

Just as Ahsoka tells everyone to take a break while she explains the next useful movement, the door to the training hall opens.

The clones didn’t train much in the Temple’s halls, but they did on the occasion theirs was too crowded. Or if they had been near the Temple and didn’t feel like traveling far.

A couple of the 501st have entered the room, and you scan their faces for Rex. He’s the last one to enter and you smile at him as he makes his way toward you. When he’s almost reached you, he takes off the necklace.

Just as he hands it to you, one of the younglings gasps loudly.

‘You’re Captain Rex of the 501st!’ he says.

Rex looks at him and nods. ‘That’s right kid. Keep up your training and I might see you out on the front some day.’ he says and the younglings look up at him in awe.

You chuckle at their reaction and shoot Rex a wink. He smiles at you, waves at Ahsoka, and then returns to his brothers to start their training session.

Five.

You don’t get a lot of free time nowadays. So when you do, you use it well. You’re currently in the gardens, meditating.

When you were younger, you didn’t like meditating very much. You would much rather be working on your lightsaber skills, than sitting in one spot of hours.

But as you got older, you realised the importance of connecting with the Force, and you started to appreciate alone time more.

Luckily, the gardens weren’t very crowded when you arrived. You took place in your favourite spot, closed your eyes and slowed your breathing.

After a while, you noticed other people’s presences in the force fading away one by one. Until you could feel no one else’s presence, and it was just you.

You’re unaware how much time has passed, when you sense a familiar presence coming closer.

You smile, but keep your legs crossed and your eyes closed. You hear footsteps coming closer, until they come to a stop right next to you.

There must be no one else watching, because you feel how Rex presses a kiss to your cheek. You then feel something cold be placed carefully around your neck. You smile again and after another kiss to your cheek, Rex leaves again, and you continue your meditation.

Six.

This war had taken too much from too many people. Everyone was tired of it, and everyone just wanted it to end. You were tired, too. You’d seen too many of your friends die, and too many innocent people you couldn’t save.

You weren’t a soldier. You’re a peacekeeper. But you can’t remember the last time you actually referred to yourself as one, let alone feel like it.

Still, the war raged on, like a hot fire turning everything in its path into ashes, leaving nothing but grief and sorrow behind. The war was unforgiving, merciless, swallowing everyone and everything in its path.

You couldn't stand by and watch anymore. Especially when all the fighting got too close for your taste.

You'd been sent to a planet you visited a lot when you were a child. It was a peaceful, neutral planet. Until the Separatists came to claim it. The planet's original inhabitants didn't have the proper training or recourses to fight, so the Republic sent you and your men there.

When you got to the planet it was nothing but chaos. The Separatists had wanted to take control of the planet for its strategic location. It seems they would do anything to get their hands on it.

Including wiping out an entire race of people.

You couldn't let that happen. You had been right there to see so many people get injured or killed because of the Separatists. You wouldn't stand by and watch yet another peaceful planet be taken.

The Separatists were using a new kind of droid, one that could follow orders all at once because of one single command center. You'd sent your men to keep fighting on the front lines, and to protect the people.

You would disarm the command center, so their commands couldn't get to the droids on the battlefield.

But you weren't an expert on shutting down such a massive command center on your own. While thinking back to all the happy memories you made in the past when you visited this planet, the only option you could think of was to blow up the entire command center.

You didn't have any explosives on you, so you decided to fling both of your lightsabers into the power generator. At the time, you didn't even know if it would work. Turns out it did. Maybe it worked a little too well.

The blast was enormous. You successfully blew up the entire command center, and your men could pick the droids off like target practice.

But when your second in command didn't hear back from you, he sent a few men to go and look for you.

They found you near the center of the blast, severely injured and barely alive.

They rush you back to the ship and on the way back to Coruscant, while the medical droids aboard the ship do the best they can. But they're losing you, and it's unwise to move you at this point, so they keep you aboard the ship.

Having heard of your state, both Anakin and Ahsoka rushed to the ship you're on in the hangar.

They watch anxiously as the medial droids fuss over you. Ahsoka can see your body is as good as lost, but she can still sense your presence in the Force. It's all she can hold on to.

Meanwhile, Anakin is trying to get a hold of Rex. He'd been suspecting something was going on between you and his captain. He figured if anyone needed to be there, it's Rex.

'Yes?' says Rex when he finally answers his comm.

'Rex, you need to get here.' says Anakin, voice slightly breaking as he talks. He was so terrified to lose you.

'Everything alright, sir?' says Rex.

'It's Y/N.' says Anakin.

Rex is quiet for a while.

'Rex?' says Anakin.

'Where is she?' asks Rex, and they can all hear how he tries to keep his voice steady.

'On the ship in the hangar. They just arrived but they can't move her.' says Anakin.

'I'm on my way.' says Rex.

Anakin knew for a fact Rex was nowhere near the hangar, but he arrives there in mere minutes. He must have ran all the way here.

Ahsoka stops Rex before he can enter the room you're in. Rex is breathing heavily, pressing a hand to his side which is aching from the sprinting.

'Rex.' says Ahsoka softly. 'She's not-'

But Rex doesn't let her finish, he pushes her aside and enters the room.

He nearly breaks at the sight of you. Rex blindly reaches for something to steady him as he stumbles on his feet, and Anakin catches his arm.

Rex' eyes fill with tears as he looks at you.

This is not how he remembers you. This is not how you looked when you cheerfully waved him goodbye as your ship took off.

The robes you always wear are covered in dust and ashes. There's burn marks all over them. On some places, the fabric of the robes was completely gone, showing the burn wounds on your skin.

The side of your head is crusty with a mixture of dried blood and dirt. One side of your body is littered in bruises, from where you must have hit a wall.

'There was a blast.' mumbles Anakin. 'She blew up the generator and disarmed all of the droids. She saved an entire planet from the Separatists.'

Rex presses a hand to his mouth and mumbles something in Mando'a which Anakin doesn't understand.

He slowly approaches the bed, one hand reaching out to hold yours. His other hand is clutched around the necklace he wears.

This wasn't happening. You still had to win the war, get your own apartment for the two of you, tell war stories to new friends. This couldn't be the end of your story. This couldn't be his last memory of you.

Rex lets go of your hand to stroke your cheek.

Anakin and Ahsoka leave the room, giving Rex a moment of privacy.

'Wake up, mesh'la.' says Rex softly, voice breaking at almost every word he says. 'Wake up so I can give you the necklace. You promised you'd always be there to take it from me when we'd see each other.'

And you do wear the necklace one more time. Rex slid it around your neck, and buried it along with your body.

And every battle he fights in the future, he does in the name of his beloved General Y/L/N. There was no reason to keep it a secret any more. He'd dedicate every single fight to you. He owed you that much. He kept your memory alive.

Every night, his heart aches because of the absence of your shared necklace. The absence of your love, and your promise to always be there.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

[minty-mumbles]

To Honor, In Ink

Summary: While the chain is staying in the Karakara Bazaar, Wild heads off to Gerudo town for the day. He comes back sporting a new tattoo.

Author's Note: This was inspired by some people talking about the boys getting tattoos, specifically @gaylactic-fire. Really, only the second half of this is about tattoos... oh well

Read on AO3 Here

EDIT: You can see Wild’s Tattoo Here

EDIT 2: @bunnyambushed drew Wild's tattoo as well! Check it out here

~~~

The group had stumbled in the KaraKara Bazaar late last night. So late that it had nearly been morning. The entire group was exhausted. They had come across a particularly vicious pack of infected Keese a few hours before they arrived, and it hadn’t turned out well for them.

Keese, even the infected ones, weren't that difficult to take down. Unfortunately, there had been a lot of them. The swarm had been at least a hundred strong, and the old verbiage that there was strength in numbers had some truth to it. Especially when there were a couple bokoblins hidden in the swarm you didn't know about.

Sky had ended up with an arrow in his arm, courtesy of those same bokoblins. The rest of the group had been quick to take them down, and at that point, Time had given Warriors permission to use the fire rod that Legend had lent him. That had taken care of the keese nicely. Legend had to wonder why they hadn’t just done that in the first place.

He groaned, pushing himself up from his comfortable bed. Wild had taken one glance back at the exhausted group yesterday, and silently slid the extra rupees across the counter to pay for the extra soft beds. Usually, there would have been an argument about one of their own spending extra rupees on the others unnecessarily, but they were all too exhausted to care. Wind had already fallen asleep on Warriors back. Hyrule had been swaying side to side, and Sky was only staying upright because Twilight was supporting him.

No one had protested the thought of even more comfortable beds.

Legend had to admit, the extra soft beds did wonders. That had been perhaps one of the most satisfying nights of sleep he’s had since they had been at his own house in his own Hyrule. He had been sharing the bed with Four last night, which he had internally rejoiced at. Many of the others had a tendency to take up more than their share of the bed space. Four was the opposite, liking to curl into a little ball to sleep.

The small hero was already gone from the bed when Legend woke. In fact, most of the group was already gone from their beds. The only ones still in bed were Twilight, and Sky, who was awake and propped up in bed, reading a book. He’d likely been confined to bed rest by Hyrule, at least for the mourning.

They had managed to heal the worst of Sky’s injury, but it wasn’t perfect, and he would need extra rest to be up to traveling again.

Legend suspected that they would be staying in the Bazaar for a few days. Not that he was complaining. These beds were damn comfortable.

He stood, nodding at Sky as he put his outer tunic and boots back on. Clasping his belt around his waist, he stepped out into the morning sun.

The sun couldn’t have been up for an hour yet, but Legend could tell it was already shaping up to be a scorching hot day. As they were in the desert, that was to be expected. Legend predicted that most of them would be shedding their outer layers before noon.

He could see Four and Time over by some merchant stands that were set up in the shade of the tree. Four looked like he was haggling over some fruit, while Time was chatting with some other customers.

Wind was already in the water, swimming around like a dolphin in the shallow pool in the middle of the Bazaar. Warriors were nearby, keeping an eye on him, dipping his feet in the pool as well.

Legend looked around curiously, not spotting either the cook or the traveler anywhere. He swallowed the reflexive panic that rose in his throat. The champion could be reckless sometimes, but even he was not blasé enough to say someplace was safe when it wasn’t, and he had assured them last night that no one needed to stay awake to keep watch.

Anyways, none of the others were panicking at all, so it was probably fine.

And now that he was paying attention, Legend could hear Hyrule’s voice coming from around the corner of the building. As he rounded the corner to investigate, he found not only Hyrule, but also Wild, and a man wearing a frankly astoundingly large pack.

Hyrule was bartering with the man over what sounded to be the price of some bugs. Legend recalled that Wild had pointed this kind of bugs out to the group, and called them Cold Darners. Apparently, they were very useful in the making of heat-resistance potions.

Legend knew he was usually one of the only ones of the group that paid attention when Wild spouted off random bug facts. Not that the others were trying to be offensive, and Wild never seemed disappointed when no one but Legend was listening to his lecture about different types of fish or flowers

Legend figured that the information just went in one ear and out the other for the rest of the group. He, on the other hand, paid strict attention when Wild spoke about the natural flora and fauna of his Hyrule.

These portals were unreliable, and if Legend ever got stranded in Wild’s Hyrule without the champion, he wanted to be prepared. This was the kind of information that you wanted to absorb when you could. He knew from experience that he might end up thanking himself for it later.

Apparently, Hyrule had also been listening to what Wild had been saying yesterday, because he was now forking over enough rupees to buy enough of the bugs to make heat-resistance potions for all of them. Legend was impressed by his forethought. Legend himself probably wouldn’t have thought of potions until he himself was already halfway to sunburned.

As the merchant wandered away, Hyrule offered the bugs for Wild to store in his slate until they were ready to make the potions.

Wild waved him off, and the three started moving back to where the rest of the group, including a groggy-eyed Twilight, was gathered around the pool. “I actually have some things to do in town today. I have a few things I need to get, and I have an appointment I need to make. I had thought I would need to reschedule due to all the, well...” Here he gestured vaguely to the group, and the rest of them hummed in understanding. ”But, ehh, we're here, so might as well go…”

He trailed off, pulling out his slate, considering its contents. After a moment, he shrugged off his thoughts. “Anyways, you’ll want to keep a hold of those things yourself, Hyrule.”

Time spoke up from where he and Twilight had joined Warriors in dipping their feet in the pool. Twilight and Warriors had already shed their outer layers to try and combat the heat, and Time apparently hadn’t even bothered to put on his armor at all. “Do they have a leader you could ask about any sighting of black blooded monsters? You might as well ask while you’re there.”

Wild nodded, a smile overcoming his face. “Yeah! I’m on pretty good terms with the Chieftess, Riju. We go sand seal racing sometimes.”

“Well,” Time began, “take one of the others, and ask her, and then do what you need to after.”

“Ahh,” Wild winced. “I’m probably going to take a while, and you guys won’t be able to get in, remember? Women only.”

“So how do you get in?” Warriors asked, brow quirked.

Wild snorted at that. “You’ve already gotten a hint, though. It shouldn’t be that hard for eight heroes of courage to figure it out, should it?”

“Hold on,” Warriors protested, ”since when have we gotten a hint?”

That actually got a laugh out of Wild. “You’ve held what I’ve used in your hands before, Wars. Figure it out.”

With that, he tapped on his slate, dissipating in strands of blue light before Warriors could protest.

~~~

Wild was gone for most of the rest of the day. Hyrule sat down shortly after he departed, and made the heat-resistance potions, which everyone had been thankful for.

Legend had been right in thinking it would be a hot day. The Gerudo scattered around the plaza seemed unaffected, but all the Hylians were sweating buckets. By mid-day, everyone had shed their outer tunics. Those of them who were able to tan, and didn’t burn after an hour in the sun even took off their under-tunics to try and cool off that little bit more. Legend himself would rather not look like a cooked lobster, so he had kept his tunic on.

Many of the younger heroes joined Wind in the pool, as well as Twilight. (Legend sighed internally when he saw that, and braced himself for the inn to smell like wet dog that night.)

Wild was gone for both lunch and supper, and the only one who had been willing to cook was Hyrule, they had bought some fruit and pre-cooked meat from the stands, and made a meal out of that.

It had been decent, but not as good as what they had seen the champion cook before. Legend had particularly enjoyed the bananas, but when he went back to buy a few more, the seller had glared at him suspiciously. Eyeing the way she was fingering her blade, Legend decided to go with another slice of hydromelon instead. The seller calmed down after that.

Warriors sat around for a good hour or two, trying to figure out how exactly the champion was getting into town. Legend didn’t really care one way or the other, but the puzzle of what he was using to get into town was good, and Legend couldn’t resist a good puzzle. He had run through all the weapons he had seen Wild use, and the items he had in that slate of his but he couldn’t come up with anything. The paraglider, maybe, but Legend didn’t think Warriors had ever held that. Warriors wasn’t able to think of anything either, by his dejected expression.

After the worst heat of the day was over, Warriors convinced Wind and Hyrule to come try sneaking into town with him. Legend tagged along, eager to see what shenanigans the three would get into. The look Time sent him told Legend that he would also be bailing them out of jail if they got in any trouble.

They didn’t have any luck, and were back at the bazaar in time for dinner, Legend’s wallet thankfully as full as it had been when they left.

~~~

Wild only showed up after dinner was over. The sun had already set when he finally made it back. Legend wondered what had taken him so long. He had mentioned an appointment, but hadn’t specified, so the group was left in the dark.

Wild strolled leisurely into camp, and plopped himself down at their fire. Legend could see, even in the dark, that he had switched out of his normal clothing into something that looked much more appropriate for the heat, if a little revealing. He barely wore anything except a pair of pants and a pauldron on his shoulder.

“You took a long time,” Twilight noted, “run into any trouble?”

“Nah,” Wild shook his head, then changed the subject. “I didn’t see any of you in town. Couldn’t figure it out?” He shot a smirk at Warriors, who had to shake his head in defeat.

“He tried sneaking over the walls plenty of times,” Legend supplied, smirking. “They eventually placed a guard on him, so he had to give up.”

Wild gave a grin at the mental image of Warriors sulking while under the strict gaze of one of the gate guards. “I could have told you that. I can’t tell you the number of times I got thrown back over the wall before I figured it out.” Legend could have told Warriors that too. He had, in fact, but the captain had seemingly taken that as a challenge. Legend hadn’t minded, as it was amusing to watch.

Eventually, he had gotten bored, though, and had struck up a conversation with the guards, hoping to wrangle some information out of them. Unfortunately, the guards did not; have anything to tell him. They had just insisted that there were no exceptions to the rule, not even the Hero of Hyrule. They insisted that they hadn’t even seen the man in a few weeks.

When he told Wild this, he unexpectedly chuckled, waving him off. “Yeah, they would say that, wouldn't they? They definitely saw me, they just wouldn’t have told you. Besides, where else could I have gotten this done? The artist there is the best one I know.” He stood, turning to display his bare back, and the fresh tattoo that was inked there.

Wind was the first up, nearly bouncing in excitement. “Wow! Did it hurt?”

Wild laughed “Yeah, getting a tattoo hurts. Thankfully I don't have any scars where it’s placed, so it was easier for the artist, and less painful for me.”

The rest of the group slowly gathered around to admire the design. It was placed along the upper half of his spine, between his shoulder blades. It was relatively simple, as it would have to be to get it done in one day. Four colored spheres in a neat row, with an animal within each one. The top one was blue, with an elephant. Then there was a red one with a lizard, a green one with a bird, and the last yellow with a camel. Vines with blue flowers that Legend had heard Wild call Silent Princesses wrapped around the outside of the design. It was simple but elegant.

“I got it in memory of the champions,” Wild explained unnecessarily. They all knew the tale of the other champions and their divine beasts. The symbolism was obvious. “The flowers are Zelda’s favorite, but they're also, uh, common symbols of mourning....” Here, he trailed off, looking like he was lost in memories. Legend cringed.

Ugh, feelings.

Now Wild was upset. Legend never knew how to fix these types of situations, but as the silence dragged on with none of the others saying anything, Legend drew himself up to interject. None of the Links were particularly good with words, or subtle, and even those who were the best with words, like Warriors or Twilight, could stick their foot in their mouth easily.

This meant that they, more often than not, choose to leave the talking to someone else. Unfortunately, there was no one else this time, and one of them would need to break the awkward silence that was no doubt only making the champion feel worse.

“Wow!” Wind, bless his good timing, chimed in before anyone could say anything. “It looks so cool! I want a tattoo too. Granny said I could get on when I turned sixteen, but she wouldn’t know. Will you take me? Please!”

Wild, thankfully looking less uncomfortable, smiled at the sailor. “I don’t think that you’d have the time. I talked to the chieftess while I was there, and got some information about increased Yiga attacks. As long as Sky is feeling better, we’ll probably leave tomorrow.” When Wind sighed in disappointment, Wild pointed out “And besides, you weren't able to make it into the town anyway, and the tattoo artist doesn't do out-of-town appointments.”

“Oh, right…” Wind trailed off, obviously thinking of other places he could possibly fulfill his goal of getting ink injected into his skin.

Personally, Legend could see the appeal in getting inked. Wild’s designs were beautiful, and had significant meaning to him. Legend thought he might not mind having a small hibiscus flower tattooed somewhere.

However, he couldn’t imagine why anyone would willingly put themselves through the pain of getting a small needle jammed into them hundreds of times. It seemed like an unnecessary pain to go through, and Legend wasn’t one to intentionally put himself in pain.

When he said such out loud, Warriors laughed. “What, are you too tender-skinned for that?”

Legend scoffed. “Well, I don’t see you with any tattoos either, pretty boy.”

“I do have some,” Warriors smirked. “Just not where you can see. Army regulations.” He stood, stripping off his tunic. Across his chest, detailed in a bright gold that glimmered in the firelight, was the crest of Hyrule. On his back was a depiction of the master sword in black and white along his spine.

“That\’s impressive work,” Sky hummed. “Not many people get tattoos in Skyloft. The rocks we need to make the ink with are rare, so people don’t usually bother. Only a couple of people actually know how to tattoo.”

“That makes sense,” Warriors said, shrugging his shirt back on. “I guess rocks are hard to come by on a floating island. They're a finite resource.”

Wild nodded. “The tattoo artist I went to requires you to bring the materials that she needs with you. She‘s good enough that people come from all over to get tattooed there, and she can demand you bring your own materials. Mostly a lot of charcoal, but also some plants and other kinds of rocks to make the ink colored.”

Hyrule piped up from where he was sitting. “Do you have any, Sky? Being a chosen hero of Hylia seems like it would be special enough to warrant a tattoo.”

Sky nodded, but didn’t elaborate, and the rest of them left it be. When someone in the group didn’t choose to elaborate on something, the rest of them knew better than to push them. They had learned that lesson the hard way. Even something as innocent as a tattoo could have bad memories attached to it for the heroes.

“What about you two?” Wind questioned, gesturing towards Twilight and Time. “You guys both have tattoos, obviously.”

Time replied with a completely straight face, staring at Wind. “These aren't tattoos. They’re scars, a gift from a demon I… encountered.” He said it with such a blank face that Legend could see even Twilight couldn't tell if he was being serious.

“Ah.” Wind said, squinting at the old man suspiciously, before he seemingly decided that it wasn't worth asking more questions. He turned to Twilight. “What about you? Your tattoos actually kind of look like the markings on Wolfie. He’s your pet, right? Did you get them in honor of him?”

Legend couldn’t help but snicker as he watched Twilight trying to sputter out an answer to that.

Four took pity on Twilight, and started to show off his own tattoos to change the topic of conversation- a cluster of four swords surrounding his right forearm. Each had a different color gemstone in its hilt, Green, Blue, Purple, and Red.

As the conversation moved on, visions of small hibiscus tattoos floated in the back of his mind. Maybe getting one wouldn’t be so bad, in an inconspicuous place.

Putting yourself in pain on purpose did sound stupid. But Legend had done a lot of stupid things in the past. Getting a tattoo in memory of someone, to honor them, didn’t sound like it would even begin to stack up against the other idiotic things he’s done.

And besides, he’d been in plenty of pain before. He was sure he could handle a needle, right?