#i used to be able to turn my eyelids inside out really easy but then i grew up without keeping it in practice over the years

[mixiury]

Here with you — Wanderer x GN! Reader

Summary: After a long walk with Wanderer, you ended up exhausted, taking a small nap with your companion in the middle of the forest.

A/N: I corrected some typos I noticed after reading this again. I am dyslexic and English isn't my first language so I'm sorry if there is still some. Please feel free to point them out!

"Come here, lie with me."

"Why would I? To get my clothes dirty like yours? No thanks." Wanderer answered to your request almost instantly, showing little interest in changing his mind.

Both of you have been walking for hours now, enjoying the cool breeze that the trees of the Sumeru forest release.

It's hard to keep track of time in a place like this, especially when the silence and calm stretches out in its entirety and all you can hear is the soft melody of the birds with the snapping grass and leaves you are stepping on the ground while you walk.

But even though your hiking companion doesn't need to take breaks and the beautiful views of the landscapes along the way help in motivating you to continue exploring, you soon end up finding your feet and legs demanding you to rest, lying down on a small and comfortable hill, while Wanderer reluctantly agrees to wait for you a few minutes.

"Are you sure you don't want to join me? The sun is nice." You know what his response is going to be, but you keep insisting anyways, hoping that some miracle will happen that would make him change his mind and rest alongside you. However, as was from being expected, his head just turned away, ignoring your request with the same stubborness that characterizes him.

Defeated, you find solace in the warm sunlight and fresh grass you lie on, slowly imbuing yourself in its trap as your eyelids fight to stay open.

It is not until he notices how quiet you have become that Wanderer's gaze finally returned to your sleeping figure, noticing each deep breath you take as your chest rises and falls steadily, with nothing to interrupt you from falling into your calm, soft slumber.

It's annoying how you allow to put yourself in such a comfortable state in the middle of nowhere. As if, in this precise moment, nothing else mattered.

It seems like you don't know how easy of a target you are right now, not worrying about your surroundings and all the dangers that are around you. It only takes a few seconds to end a human's life and it's much easier when you're in such a vulnerable and peaceful state that you wouldn't even be able to react before you feel the pain of your aggressor hurting you.

And yet, the mere thought of it makes him feel sick and jealous of you at the same time. How can you live your life so carelessly? Is it because you don't have any self-prevention instincts inside that empty brain of yours? Or are you just so naive that, even knowing how he can easily leave you to your own devices, you still trust him enough to allow yourself to be in this position?

Knowing you will probably never tell him, he decides to search the answer by himself, quietly approaching you and laying down next to you, hoping that the sound of the grass rustling next to you won't wake you up or interrupt your dreams as he watches you in complete silence.

And it's only now, after he finally gave into your request, that he understood what you were talking about.

The faint rays of the sun really feel like a bliss the moment they caress your face, intense enough to embrace you with their warmth but not to the point of burning you. Contrasting with the cloudy and gloomy Inazuma mornings he had grown used to.

It has been so long since he felt this warmth and calmness, still staring at you steadily and letting himself enjoy the peaceful nature of the moment.

It feels illegal that him, out of all people, could experience an instance like this. He, whom from the day of his creation the only birthright that has been given to him was an eternity of grievance, shame and solitude, simply lying on the grass without any other concern but you.

He doesn't understand it but he wants to. Your presence itself has already helped him understand a hint of your normalicy, something that he had spent decades chasing and longing for but was never able to hold for long enough to call it his. And yet, he lets himself fall into your trap and comfort, finally taking a break from all the thoughts that have been stuck in his mind as he simply rests by your side.

[win-writes]

𝘏𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘔𝘦

༶ contains: fluff, overwhelmed!jouno, jouno using mobility cane, established relationship

༶ word count: 0.8k

༶ a/n: based on this post that got way more attention than i thought! i feel like jouno's disability isn't talked about enough throughout the manga, so I'm trying my best to make up for it! always open to constructive criticism by anyone who can help me be more accurate when writing for jouno

To say working as a Hunting Dog isn't easy, would be an understatement. Especially for the man who depends on his sharp hearing to make up for his lost vision. Sure, it comes really handy when it comes to interrogations or investigations, but it's times like this very moment when Jouno feels as if he's no different than an average human being with the same disability as his.

After a tiring week full of missions, Jouno finally has the chance to spend some time with his dear darling. Your date at your favorite café filled your heart with so much joy and warmth that only he could bring you. Of course, the same goes for him.

On your way home, unfortunately for your boyfriend, the streets are relatively busy. Countless cars passing by, crowds chattering, loud music from the local shops. Smoking cigarettes, a plethora of perfumes and scents. All kinds of sounds and smells attack Jouno's senses, making it difficult for him to navigate on his own.

"Baby, are you sure you're okay?" your voice is filled with worry for your partner, who can't seem to be able to hide how overwhelmed his surroundings make him feel. He gives you one of his soft genuine smiles "Yes my love. I'm just tired, that's all"

You may not have the ability to hear his breathing, but you know Jouno like the back of your hand, you don't need to put much effort to tell he's lying "It's alright" you caress his back ever so softly and Jouno swears he can feel his heart melt at your loving touch "do you need help?"

Much to his displeasure, Jouno knows he can't take more than two steps forward with the amount of information he has to process to do such a simple thing like walking home. He simply nods his head to you, too proud to admit out loud that he indeed needs guidance to continue.

You detach your hand away from his back to reach out for your bag. The loss of contact forces Jouno's hand to subconsciously tug on your arm, ensuring you are right next to him "I'm right here baby" a simple sentence like this is enough to cancel every backround noise for a moment and fill Jouno's ears with nothing but your lovely voice.

You're quick to take out his cane, carefully unwrapping it before handing it to him "There you go my love" Jouno lets out a quiet sigh before taking his cane in his hand. You don't fail to notice the change in his expression, his sad closed eyelids, his smile turning into a thin line and his head slightly titling down.

You know how stubborn your boyfriend is and how he easily lets his pride get the best of him at times. Combined to how exhausted he is right now, it's only natural for him to feel self conscious about his current public presentation.

You gently wrap your arm around his own "It's okay" you whisper before placing a kiss on his cheek "Are you ready to go my love?"

A wave of sharply edged euphoria washes over him at your affections. His smile slowly takes its place back on his lips, before turning his face to your side "Of course angel"

With your arms perfectly linked together and the assistance of his tool, you successfully make it pass the sea of people, steadily gaining distance from the lively street. Throughout the whole way, Jouno felt his heart skipping numerous beats every time your delicate fingers drew random patterns on his limb. Normally he would tease you for being so openly affectionate, but today he couldn't help but just let himself enjoy your warmth and love for as long as he possibly can.

At last, the noise eases and the fog inside jouno's mind finally clears away. He sighs with a smile on his face, relieved that the world around him finally starts making sense again.

"Feeling better?"

His arm that was previously wrapped by your hand now moves to rest on your waist, pulling you closer to him. You giggle at the way your noses brush against each other, sending a jolt of pleasure to his entire body.

Jouno could never imagine himself being so vulnerable around anyone. Throughout his whole life, he had to live in constant alert to danger; both as a criminal executive and as a hunting dog. Never once in his life did he believe someone as pure as you would take him in and shower him with so much love to finally allow him to have his moments of weakness.

"Much better"

He whispers before capturing your lips into a sweet kiss, thanking his lucky stars for sending him an angel like yourself to lighten up his days and helping him escape the darkness that surrounds him when he needs it the most.

[lovesickbtch]

Itoshi Rin x fem!reader

Warnings : NSFW, SMUT AHEAD Intercourse (obv), Degrading, Denial, Squirting, I think thats it lmk if there are more.

Idk why I stopped posting but I just finished Reading and watching blue lock so I had to do smth about my bae rin 🤭

Kinda rushed sry

It started with dumb harmless comebacks to how you didn't need him to pleasure you. Obviously you were joking, for once it was nice being able to fluster and annoy Rin. Only at that moment though, now it wasnt much of a joke to you, but to him.

-------------------

"What's wrong princess? Y'know what you're doing."

You were sat up on his dick, so clueless as to what to do. He was slightly sat up against the bed frame, still a bit lower than you. You whined trying to move up and down, only edging yourself more. You felt yourself slowing down your movement.

"Need help Rin, I can't"

He found you so cute, and it only fed his ego by the way you tried to ask him for help. He loved the way you cried and twitched on him too. Unfortunately, he wasn't going to let you off easily. Especially with how you let your mouth get the better of you earlier today. He could've made you suck him off with that bratty mouth of yours till you couldn't anymore, but he found this more amusing.

"You're all talk aren't you? Can't even do it yourself." He scoffed almost rolling his eyes in annoyance.

He used his hands to rock your hips against him. Making your body flow back to its original pace. You felt your high building up, he did too. Your insides had squeezed around him and cute high pitched mewls started leaving your mouth.

Soon they turned into full moans, he really knew just how to play with you.

He slowed down his movements, dragging the desparing feeling across your body. You let out a whine of frustration and you glared at him angrily. He clicked his tounge in response. He could look down on you even if you were above him.

"What a bimbo, you really think it was that easy? My cock must've made you dumb huh?"

"Rin pl-"

"Ride it Y/n, hurry up I don't have all day"

His eyelids lowered, almost as if he was mad at me. I felt stuck in the same spot, unable to replicate the feeling. It felt more and more frustrating as he just stared at me with no empathy in his eyes.

"M' sorry Rin...."

You forgot why you apologized but it just felt right. You looked at him with tears threatning to spill from your doe eyes.

He didn't know why he felt bad for you. He looked at your flushed cheeks and wet eyelashes. His gaze then lowered from your teary eyes to where you were sitting. It was sticky and wet, he didn't know if he could hold back any longer.

"Shit-" He cursed under his breath, he was getting more impatient feeling the heat emiting from your pussy.

He gave you a quick peck on the lips before moving his hands down to guide you. Its like he predicted where it felt best, hitting the same spot.

"Keep moving" He demanded

He slowly moved his hands off and rubbed your sticky clit from under you. His other hand gathered your slick using his ring and index finger.

You let out a loud moan, which became interrupted as he stuck two wet fingers in your mouth. It felt even better than how it felt before. You couldn't help but whimper with his fingers toying your body as you helplessly grinded against him.

You felt your orgasm approaching again, except it felt so much more intense. You held tightly onto Rin's wrist that was circling your clit. However he didnt budge, going the exact same speed that he was before. You felt your eyes rolling back as far as they could go.

You kept grinding on him till you came all over his abdomen. Your liquids spraying hard down his thighs. He watches you come down from your orgasm with a smirk. His hand under you slowly drags upwards before giving your clit a harsh slap.

"Ouch" You whine.

"Get on all fours"

"Wha-"

"I'm not done"

[cottondo]

Hey babes! First of all, let me just say that I ADORE your writing <3333 I can tell you have a lot of passion for what you do!

If it’s alright with you, I’d like to request a Blitzø x fem! reader story. Preferably how he navigates a shy, sweet imp. I was thinking that they could have been childhood friends or something like that. Whatever you decide to do I’ll read (and love) it <3333

Thank you so much!!

aahww thank you sm lovebug🥹💞 I appreciate the kindness !

also,, really hope I got your request right?? I lowkey wasn’t exactly sure on what you wanted LMAO but I hope you like it regardless <3

Blitzo x fem! imp reader | navigate

The sound of your breath in a humid environment was all you could really focus on. Or, more so, trying to control it.

Blitzo insisted taking you on some stupid 'adventure', —if thats what he called it— and of course, it turned into a mission.

Why the hell wouldn't it! You didn't expect much less from him.

You particularly didn't care much for his mission work. Sure, okay, it seemed kinda cool sometimes- - but the,, almost double-dying part, was intimidating as fuck.

Keeping all your limbs attached to your body was really your biggest goal living down in Hell. It was easy enough to end up getting stabbed, maybe break a horn or two, or even end up in a shitty situation with some demon lords that rule rings trying to chase you down. Especially as an imp!

Maybe it was because you actually valued your death-life, and Blitz,, .. just didnt? But, regardless, you didn't wanna be here, doing this today.

A heavy hand rests on your shoulder abruptly, causing a small flinch to react from your figure.

Blitz leans in close, a crazy little smirky smile on his face. If the space between you got any smaller, you thought your oxygen levels would've been completely cut.

He managed to drag you into some hide out, a gun in his hand, army crawl position beside you in a long vent you two crawled inside of together. Shoulders harshly bumping against each other's to prover just how little space there actually was inside.

It was hot in here, and he was hotter, which only added to the uneasiness you felt in your chest.

"Don't tell me you're bitchin' out on me, y/n." He whispers to you, eyes focusing on your nerves. Blitz knew you better than just about anyone. And to be fair, he should. You two have been friends since childhood, so nothing goes unseen around him.

Your frown lightens, vision trailing to look back at him. "Nooo? I'm totally fine," you flash a cheesy smile back.

Blitzo's eyes roll, "Yea- ok, I'm teaching you combat, whether you like it or not, bitch. If youre gonna be working with us, you can't just sit around at the desk looking all cute and shit, everyday." He reminds you, "I need you to learn how to be more assertive!"

He thought you were cute? Ayee, score for you.

Your lips curl into a smirk over at him.

"As cute as I am, I can still be assertive." Now it was your turn to remind him.

It didnt look like he believed that statement. Actually, you knew he didnt.

"What happens when some dick fucker tries being an asshole to you? Pulls out a gun? One day I'm not gonna be able to get there quick enough to save your sorry ass." He frowns, some annoyance clear in his tone.

Your eyes widen, and your lips sound a gasp as you face him. "Oh my god- - is that the sound of you caring about someone other than yourself~?" You tease sarcastically, eyelids lowering casually again. Blitz turns away with a scoff.

"I didn't know that was even possible," you add onto the teasing, obviously getting some sort of rise out of him.

"Listen!" He narrows his vision. "Oka- you know damn well that I—"

His words get cut off. The sound of a door opening, and footsteps entering the room catch both of your attentions. You flinch when the door slams shut behind the figure. It was a short demon. Big horns, and an even bigger snout. He sort of looked like a dead pig. You cringe.

"Oh, fuck." Blitz smirks, raising up his gun. "This is too easy. You comin' or what?" His shoulder nudges yours. You give a dull look in reply. "Do I have a choice?"

"No, you don't." He smirks over his shoulder at you.

You follow close behind his army crawl towards the end of the vent. It wasn't far away at all, just totally felt uncomfortable being on your hands and knees in such a small space for so long.

Blitz quickly kicks out the vent door, and jumps down to the floor with his gun tightly in hand. Your eyes watch his figure as he lands perfectly in the room, alerting the demon who was on Blitz' kill list.

Damn.

It was kind of crazy how good his combat is. You know he has a lot of practice- - which does make you slightly worry from time to time about just how much trouble this job really gets him into. (And how much more it'll get you into if he continues to drag you along for the ride.)

With a small push, you slip yourself out of the vent, and land on two feet with a practiced swiftness. You've gotten enough rehearsal time to do small, crafty things, but you weren't perfect- - nothing like how Blitz was, anyway.

But at least you still looked good doing it.

The listed demon looks quickly between the both of you, Blitz ready with a crazed grin on his face while holding the gun, and you, with your knife strapped to your side, looking nothing as intimidating.

"Y/N! Grab him!" Blitz commands from you.

You hesitate for a second, "Blitz, do we really hav—"

"Cmon!" Blitz tosses his head back and groans, quickly rebounding and aiming the gun to the guys head before he got any bright ideas. "Lets dance, bitch!"

The demon, though all three of you were trapped in a very small room, does his absolute best to dodge each and every bullet. For a porky lookin dude, he was quick on his hooves. He managed to miss most if not all, bullets aimed his way.

You lunge forward, and tackle him to the ground like a tiger pouncing its prey. Blitz cheers you on, fist pumped up in the air as he watches with excitement down at you. "Thats what im talkin about, y/n! Now tie his ass up, we gotta use him as bait for the rest of them."

"The rest of them?" You glare in question.

His hand tosses you down a rope, which you had no idea where he kept it hidden all this time, but look up to Blitz anyway, as you struggled a little, straddling to keep the demon down beneath you.

Your hands desperately grab the rope, and you begin tying. Blitz insisted no helping, as this was his way of teaching you proper ways to hustle- - but you'd gladly accept it if he offered any.

First, you wrap up the struggling mans hands, then, you move down to his kicking feet. He managed to give your shoulder a good hit with his foot, but that only resulted in Blitz raising his own foot, and forcefully bringing the tip of his boot into the guys side. The demon lets out a groan.

"Damn, what the hell, asshole." You glare down at the demon who only glares back up at you through his groans. Your hands take the bandana from around his neck, and retie it around his mouth to prevent any sounds coming out of him.

"Great, now lets get the fuck out of here!" Blitz grins, picking up the hostage and throwing him over his shoulder with a small struggle. You follow along close behind, eyes checking both sides of you with some slight paranoia. It already came to the point in the day where you were very much over this job. Why the fuck couldn't you guys have just stayed in the circus business?

"Y/N! Take out those assholes up on the catwalks!" Blitz points to a few more demons that were going to be next on your list for the day.

While the two of you ran for the far exit, your eyes follow up to where Blitz was looking.

You spot them. "Got it!" Your voice beams, and pulling out your gun, you aim for the straps that kept the walk attached to the ceiling. One shot, you took the one side of the catwalks down, which results in the demons falling and tumbling down to the floor of the warehouse.

"Fuck yeah!" Blitz laughs as he uses the tied hostage as a punching bag for other demons that try to stop the two of you. He swings the hostage demon around, using him as his own personal weapon, causing some slight laughter out of you, to which both you and blitz were surprised about.

The demons you caused to fall, start charging your way. With a quick thought, you take out the knife strapped to your side, and get ready to use it. Blitz grins over at you. "Remember to aim for the neck!" He calls out from ahead of you.

Your smile brightens at the teamwork you both have. "Thanks!"

A hand reaches for you, but with a stealthy slide to the side, you duck under the arms and push the torso of a demon down to the ground.

This was getting . . oddly easy.

You hop over the demon on the floor, and smile brightly over at Blitz.

With you catching up to his side, your lips stretch into a grin as you open the door to the warehouse for him. “Did you see?” Your question was almost eager sounding. Breaking out of the shyness of the situation, you’ve actually gained a bit more combat knowledge.

Blitz grins over at you, throwing the hostage to the ground as the both of you make it out, and find a safer area to catch your breaths.

“Hell yeah bitch!” Blitz looked so happy, giddy, even. It was so freaking cute.

“I knew teaching you my way would pay off.” He crosses his arms, a soft smirk on his face.

Your face flushed lightly, the shyness beginning to take over just a bit. Your shoulders shrug upward, and the smile on your face was light. “Thanks,”

“I’m proud of you.” Blitz’s voice is quieter than his usual loud and obnoxious form, but you still catch it. Your eyes widen a bit, and staring at him in a small shock is all you could do for a second. “Really?”

Blitz looks flustered, so you decide to let any teasing go. It wasn’t often he would give real compliments. Even if he did know you long enough, to.

“Of course, fuck face.” He replies, rolling his eyes with a smile still stuck to his face.

You bump his shoulder, grinning just a little harder than before. “Learned from the best.”

______________________

really sorry its not my best work,, just allot goin on in life rn but I still hope you liked it anyway ! <3

[crazilust]

My Impressions on the Signs vs how I used to see them (part 1)

as i’ve met tons of different people this year and I’m approaching my 25th year and I feel like I’m becoming this completely new person (and honestly feeling a bit like i’m going insane) these are my new and reformed opinions on the zodiac!

1. Cancer

How I used to see them:

I used to see them as complete cry babies, which is not a shock because it’s stereotypically what we associate with Cancers, in general. More than that, I used to think they would often use their emotions as weapons and be overly sensitive. As an Aries sun with lots of Mars dominance, I had never gotten closer to a Cancer because I simply couldn’t deal with the constant flow of emotions.

How I see them now:

I still see them as very sensitive, but now I am more careful with my words because I’ve realized how fragile their self esteem can be. As the years went on, I was able to form meaningful relationships with Cancers and most of them had a really fragile self esteem. They’re not just sensitive for the sake of it, as it turns out lmao, but because they’re already pretty critical of themselves. Another thing, I’ve also met more developed Cancers and man, they are some of the most self assured, bad ass individuals. Very inspiring, if you ask me. Lots of ambition and would be great leaders imo.

My favorite “Cancer” placement : It has to be rising. Very lowkey, reserved individuals, but man when they care about you, they care about you very deeply. Again, very sensitive but I’m more cautious of it now.

2. Virgo

How I used to see them: I was always a very big fan of virgo. I lack earth element in my chart and Virgos used to be my favorite earth placement to hang out with. My best friend was a virgo, I had a virgo boyfriend. I just loved their dependability, their work ethic (which is something I value and admire in someone) and I always found them to be so.. perfect!

How I see them now: As time passed, I had some fall out with some Virgos and it was mostly because I realized that what they said about themselves didn’t really match the actions they did. It’s easy to say you hate messy people, but then how come you’re always in dramas? I’ve realized how much I had idealized Virgos and put them on this pedestal. I’m not saying Virgos are bad friends or anything like that, but in my experience, it was good to humanize them a bit and realize that this whole perfection persona was simply a facade I had fallen for.

My favorite “Virgo” placement: The sun, for sure. Even though I have way less virgos in my life, Virgo suns will remain my favorite of them all. Bonus: they’re hilarious.

3. Sagittarius

How I used to see them: Another one of my favorite: Sagittarius. From literal birth, I’ve been surrounded by Sags. Again, as an Aries, I feel like Sag and us just get together easily and it’s a lot of fun. But, just as I had a lot of fun with them, I always felt like I couldn’t quite get to know them, that they were quite non-comittal and with very big egos. It created a lot of friction in pretty much all of my relationships with Sags and most of the Sags I knew, we had a fallout. It’s like it was best if we stayed friends from a distance, because whenever we would get closer, we would hurt eachother. The main thing would be that we both wouldn’t feel enough love from one another.

How I see them now: So, I’ve dated a Sag this year and he’s the one that changed my whole perspective on them. I mean, it hasn’t changed that much, but it made me understand the blind spots I had with them. First of all, I hadn’t realized how sensitive a Sag is. Now before you go all “Naaah, Sags don’t gaf about anything and no one”. Sure. But also, false. They care. Alot. They have the biggest of hearts. But their defense mecanism? Carelessness. Nonchalance. “It is what it is” might just be tattooed on the inside of their eyelids because they live by that. And by dating this man, I realized that it was, in fact, a defense mecanism. To cope with the fact that he was hurt. And scared. Also, they put a unhealthy amount of pressure on themselves to succeed. Hadn’t realized that either. Another thing, some of them are incredibly lonely, while being popular… When I was younger, I really couldn’t understand the whole “Wise teacher” archetype of the sagittarius. But I get it now. Because some of them are truly alone and scared and in need of answers, and in order to have those, you have to go down that road alone. And become this wise sage. Not sure if I’m making any sense, but you got this, Sags!

My favorite “Sag” placement: Again, has to be sun. Although, I’m starting to be very fond of Sag moons. Like a less chaotic (or the chaos is more hidden) version of Sag sun.

4. Gemini

How I used to see them: I always had a lot of Gemini friends, because whenever there’s a Gemini, I’m gonna be attracted by them (only platonically though, weirdly enough never had a crush on a Gemini and I had lots of crushes). I used to think there were two kinds of Gemini: the lowkey, overthinker, kinda silent weird kid that everybody either loved or didn’t care for and the stereotypically loud, fun, crazy popular Gemini. I was friends with both of these kinds, but as it turns out, our friendship was never longer than 2 years, and if it was, it was never close friendships, just mostly acquaintances. I never really cared for the “two faced” stereotypes as I feel like some signs are way more fake than Gemini. But I did feel like there was a part of them that was hard to reach/see.

How I see them now: I’m kinda realizing that there’s no “two kind of Geminis” but that every Gemini has those two kind inside of them (Which is pretty obvious to anyone since they are the Twin archetype but listen, bare with meeeee, will ya). Some of them decide to put on the popular, loud, crazy kid persona and other decide to be more in their head, introverted but quite intelligent. Oh, another thing I hadn’t realized! They usually switch that persona based on people-pleasing tendencies. Hadn’t realized that all that overthinking could result, for some of them, in people pleasing tendencies. I always thought they didn’t care about that, but oh boy, they do. They love to feel included even if it means, bending their own backs sometimes. I’m growing very fond of them.

My favorite “Gemini” placement: I have quite a few. Sun, obviously. But I also love me a Gemini moon and rising. Esp rising. I find them very fun, and entertaining and they bring out the more chaotic side of me which I just love. I wish they would just be more accepting of themselves, just like they make me feel!

[woso-fan13]

NO. 29 WHAT DOESN'T KILL ME...

Sleep Deprivation 

You staggered into the hotel like you were drunk. Even though you could legally drink in Europe, there was no way that you could be drunk. You hadn’t had time to fully shower in the last 48 hours, you didn’t have time to go out. 

“Y/N, babe, you okay?” Emily asks. 

“Just peachy, thanks,” you respond, your tone of voice indicating that you were not, in fact, just peachy. 

“Seriously kid,” oh great, Kelley’s here too, “what’s up with you? You tripped on your own feet walking inside.” 

“I’m good, really,” you assure them. “I’m just tired.” 

“I feel that,” Emily agrees. 

“I know,” Kelley sounds almost sympathetic. “Time zone changes are tough, especially when we have practice as soon as we get here. But we’re having lunch now and then you should be able to nap for an hour or so before weight training.”

“Time zones suck, but I’m pretty used to them. We had to travel a lot when I was growing up, so I got used to sleeping weird hours.”

“I forgot about that,” said Emily. “Then you should have an easy transition over. As long as you got solid sleep the night before, you should have been able to get enough sleep on the plane to count for a night. As much as I hate flying overnight, it is convenient.”

“I wasn’t able to sleep on the plane, I had a bunch of schoolwork to do. My teachers gave me all the assignments I’ll be missing for the tournament before I left, and I doubt I’ll have much downtime here.”

“That’s rough, I’m sorry kid.” Kelley says, “but missing one night isn’t too bad. As long as you slept the night before.”

You stay silent. 

“Y/N?” Kelley probes. 

“I couldn’t. I’m sorry, but I didn’t have time.”

“Babe,” Emily questions, “when’s the last time you had a full night of sleep?”

“A full night? Sometime last week. But I’ve been able to get in naps, just not for a few days.” 

“Y/N M/N L/N,” Kelley sounds mad. “No, you can’t do that. Come on, we’re taking you to bed.”

“I’ll go,” you yawn, now thinking about bed, “but you guys go get lunch. I’ll be fine, and I’ll see you at training.”

You turn towards the elevator, eyelids drooping as you wait. A warm hand on your back causes you to turn slightly, Kelley giving you a soft smile. She puts her arm around your shoulder, pulling you into her. 

“Emily is going to grab us something to snack on. I’ll get you ready for bed, we can eat, and then you can sleep. Okay?”

You nod, too tired to argue. 

Kelley looks at the elevator, wondering why it’s taking so long, “sweetheart, you know the elevator comes a lot faster if you hit the button.”

She steps forward, pressing the call button. You furrow your brow slightly as the warmth and comfort leave, but they soon return. The elevator arrives shortly and Kelley ushers you in. Once you reach your floor, she pulls you down the hall and opens a door. 

This is definitely not your room. Judging by the king sized bed and suitcases, it appears Kelley and Emily were able to convince the coaching staff that they were responsible enough to share. 

Kelley opens a suitcase, digging through slightly to find a pair of pajamas. She then quickly turns to you, pulling your clothes off and dressing you. After so many times in the locker room, you two have no sense of modesty. 

A short knock is heard before the door pushes open. Emily walks in, giving Kelley a quick kiss before kissing your head. She pulls sandwiches from a bag, handing one to Kelley and moving to put another in the fridge. The last one she keeps for herself. 

She also pulls a granola bar from her bag, handing it to you. “Eat this, then you can sleep. You’ll have something real to eat when you wake up, but you need to sleep more.” 

You quickly manage to eat the bar, looking towards the couple for guidance. Emily puts her lunch down, guiding you into the bed. She settles you in the middle, pulling the sheets over you. Within 2 minutes, you are fast asleep. 

Kelley and Emily then quickly finish their lunch, settling on either side of you. They lay down, snuggling you into them, talking quietly. You were so soundly sleeping that they could have been shouting and you wouldn’t have woken up. 

Kelley starts the conversation, “I texted Coach while you were tucking her in. Everyone is having a bit of jet lag, so weight training is pushed back 2 hours and cut short.”

Emily simply nodded, grateful for the shortened workout. Although it was nothing compared to you, she was feeling the time change. 

The two women settle fully, wordlessly deciding on a plan. Kelley sets a quick alarm on her phone, tossing it on to her nightstand. Emily props herself on one elbow, looking towards Kelley. 

“I’m obsessed with this kid. Can we keep her, Kel? Please? I promise I’ll feed her and walk her.”

Kelley laughs at Emily’s overeager child impression, “I think we have to. It’s a bit too late to drop her at the pound.”

[imthejudge]

make sense of me

Warren Graham x Nathan Prescott

Chapter Four Word Count: 9,556

Chapter Three

Tags: fluff, hurt/comfort

Read on Archive

https://archiveofourown.org/works/41111322/chapters/110073688

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Chapter Four: with you

“Really?!” I mean—okay,” Warren pauses. “Great, that’s good.”

Somehow, it all seems too easy. The fact that Nathan has agreed. Warren can’t get a proper read on the guy, but for the time being, Nathan remains and that’s all Warren can ask for right now.

Warren barely notices how they both stare at each other until he’s suddenly aware of how serious Nathan looks at the statement. Warren realizes something’s off and quickly pinpoints it to that signature Nathan scowl, or lack of. He’s not furrowing his brow like he always seems to be, instead his face is somewhat relaxed. There’s something else, too. A shift, perhaps, in the way he holds himself as he stands beside Warren. Less bristled. His shoulders, which are usually hunched with tension, have eased up. It changes his overall appearance significantly. Or Warren’s just reading into things, as he’s prone to do. And then just as fast the moment’s over, and Nathan’s retreated his gaze forwards, bringing his cigarette back up to his lips.

The slow movement of his hands lull Warren, a wave of exhaustion washing over him. He stifles a yawn, the high from devising a plan in the diner steadily wearing off. He doesn’t know how late it is, not being able to trust the time on his watch since coming to the past. But judging by the deep navy that has taken over the sky and a moon that hangs relatively high above their heads, he knows it’s late.

Focusing on the end of Nathan’s cigarette as it glows orange, Warren’s eyelids begin to grow heavy. The prospect of crawling into his bed makes him almost hysterical, until he realizes he has no bed to go to. No dorm room waiting for him back at school. With a long groan, he agonizingly drags his hands over his face, “Fuckkk.” Nathan peers over at him with a questioning look. “Dude! We can’t go back to school. We don’t have our dorm rooms anymore!”

“Fuck.” Nathan echos, except it’s not drawn out and whiney like Warren’s was. The two share a look of unease which gradually pans to Warren’s car parked just off in a spot behind them. “I call taking the backseat.”

“What!” Warren smothers another groan, “It’s my car!”

“You brought me here, remember?” Nathan smirks.

“You’re literally the worst.” Warren doesn’t wait before swivelling around and sulking defeatedly back to his car. Nathan, to his promise, follows a couple of steps behind. I’m with you. Again Warren is hit by the promise, a promise he knows probably doesn’t mean as much to Nathan as it does to him. Still, if anyone told him Nathan Prescott would be uttering those words to him, he wouldn't have believed them. Or the immense relief that came with them, yet here they are. Apparently on terms of sharing a car for the night.

Warren pulls open the passenger’s door to survey their sleeping quarters for the night, the little interior bulb illuminating their options. Which doesn’t look promising. The stretch of backseat is definitely preferable, leaving the only other makeshift bed a reclined passenger seat.

From beside where Warren stands, Nathan pops his head in the back, glancing around before turning to the side to look at Warren. “Make yourself at home, I guess,” Warren shrugs off his backpack to plop into the driver’s seat, closing the passenger door behind him. He makes sure to press down the lock on the door as he does so. Nathan proceeds to climb inside the back and once he’s somewhat settled, begins to take off his jacket. It’s still wet, Warren realizes, making him wonder if Nathan had been slowly freezing to death since coming to the diner. “Here, you can put it with my bag if you want.”

Nathan hesitates, “I was going to use it to sleep under.”

Warren frowns, “dude, it’s still wet. Just use my hoodie.” He’s already grabbing for it to hand Nathan’s way, holding it out for him. Nathan looks down at it as if the sweater is the most offensive shade of blue he’s ever seen and that offering it to him is somehow the worst thing Warren could ever do. “Oh my God, take it. Sorry it’s not up to your fashion standards.”

“That’s not–” Nathan starts but is cut off when Warren shoves the mass of fabric in his face. It’s oddly satisfying, since it shuts him up and he gives in to taking it. “Thanks.” It comes out muffled from beneath the sweater as Nathan pulls it over his head. His dark blonde hair–all wavy now that it’s dry–is tousled from the action. Pieces fall into his face, somehow still looking like it was done on purpose as it frames his tired eyes.

Then they’re just staring at each other. Again. “Well,” Warren says, though it comes out more like a yelp, suddenly needing to fill the quiet. “Goodnight, then.” He turns out the car light, dousing the interior with darkness and settles into his bed. Or, seat.

Nathan doesn’t respond, but Warren can hear him shuffle into his own seat. They lie as flat as they can in their spots, positioned in a way so Nathan’s feet are just below where Warren’s headrest and makeshift pillow for the night hovers above. It’s uncomfortable, there’s no denying that. Warren can only hope he’s exhausted enough for it not to matter.

Apparently he had been, considering the next time Warren opens his eyes he’s met with the indistinguishable stream of light from the rising sun through the window across from where he’s curled up. He blinks a couple of times, squinting as he adjusts to how bright it is. Swivelling in his stiff position, he cranes his neck to look in the backseat to find Nathan absent.

A sense of panic swells in his chest and rises to his throat, bolting upright as his eyes dart around the small space. But before he can spiral any further, he spots the form of someone leaning against the hood of his car. Warren recognizes the blue of his hoodie and relaxes slightly, body hunching back against the seat. He’s still here.  

It’s after the short burst of panic wears off that Warren notices just how sore he is. No doubt the result from spending the night sleeping in his car. He rubs the back of his neck in an attempt to ease some of the tension there before eventually tracking down his shoes to put on and join Nathan outside.

Exiting the car, Warren’s met with the brisk morning air, taking note of how insulated the car had been overnight. He’s impressed, giving his Chevy a little pat of approval. He then moves to stand beside Nathan, stretching his arms above his head while simultaneously yawning. His long sleeve shirt rises up, exposing his stomach to the harsh autumn breeze that rolls in. It instantly makes him curl back in on himself. He’s tempted to fling himself back into the cozy comfort of his car. But they’ve got work to do. Warren knows these precious few days cannot be wasted, each minute detrimental to their plan. It’s time to put his impeccable time management to use.

Neither of them say anything to each other, Warren having to restrain himself from saying something that can be considered too friendly. We’re not friends, the statement they’d both shared echoes through his mind. He knows that. Warren believes that. So how come he feels slightly hurt by the fact? That’s a new development. He tries his best not to ponder over the thought. After all, it doesn’t mean anything. It shouldn’t mean anything. Warren shifts his focus to the sound of the waves crashing on the beach in the distance. It’s soothing, but also serves as a reminder to the icy wind that knocks into him and ruffles his hair about.

Warren eyes the sweater still worn by Nathan from the night before, not having the heart to ask for it back. He, too, looks shaken by the cold October morning air, arms crossed tightly around him and his hands buried within the sleeves of the hoodie. He’s got a scowl on his face, but Warren has become familiar enough to know when they hold no animosity. This is, simply put, Nathan’s resting bitch face. Nathan’s eyes meet Warren’s, eyebrows lowering in obvious confusion and Warren is quick to avert his attention. He’s gotta learn to stop staring at the guy so much. Though, Warren is still having a hard time even fully digesting the fact that he went from avoiding Nathan to this. Whatever this is.

Something heavenly enters his nostril then, carried on by a breeze from the direction of the Two Whales, as if it is just now that Warren remembers parking in the diner’s lot for the night. It renders Warren’s mind blank with all but one thought. Food.  

The great thing about staying overnight in a 24/7 diner parking lot? It raised no suspicion. But even better than that? They didn’t have to go far for breakfast. At least now he has a perfectly reasonable way to break the silence.

“Want some pancakes?”

Five minutes later they’re back in their booth chowing down. It’s mostly uneventful compared to last night, and Warren finds out Nathan had just as uncomfortable of a sleep as he had. The thought of spending a few more nights holed up in Warren’s car is far from appealing, but he supposes it’s better than nothing. So all in all, he’s kind of thankful his car served as the vessel for his time machine mechanism that never should have been, as opposed to something far less practical.

With their hunger sated and their energy restored from a somewhat restful sleep combined with a couple cups of Two Whales’ famous coffee, they finally hop back into the car to head to the labs at Blackwell Academy. It’s a Saturday–which explains the barren state of the Two Whales parking lot that early in the morning–and Warren’s confident that the two of them won’t seem too suspicious in their endeavour to hijack one of the school labs for the next phase of their plan.

The campus is still populated by students enjoying the beginning of fall, but Warren’s sure the school building itself will be the opposite–if the weekends he’s spent working away on his own at the labs in the future are anything to go by. So the two proceed, making sure to collect the reactor which had been moved to Warren’s trunk the night prior.

“I got it,” Nathan holds out his hands to take it from Warren, who hesitates at the offer after digging it out from the truck, thinking back to the last time Nathan had touched it. In his moment of indecision, Warren half expects Nathan to roll his eyes or perhaps even drop the offer completely, shoving his hands back into his pockets forcefully with a fresh scowl on his face. But he does neither. Instead, he flinches. He flinches when Warren pauses in handing it over. It all happens so quickly, and though Warren is more than justified in his hesitation, he feels shame. Nathan’s hands falter, but he still holds them up, “I won’t do anything to it…I swear.”

Taken aback, Warren proceeds to hand the reactor to Nathan wordlessly. Then Warren watches as he turns away and walks off. For a split second Warren worries he made the wrong decision in trusting it to him, but then Nathan’s back from a short trip to the passenger’s side of the car with his varsity jacket–now finally dry–draped over the top of Warren’s project. “For discretion,” Nathan explains.

“Smart,” Warren blinks, finding nothing more adequate to add. He’s surprised Nathan thought of the idea. Or moreso, he’s surprised Nathan is thoughtful enough to come up with the idea. The less attention they brought upon themselves, the better. That’s for sure.

So with things in motion, Warren makes sure to grab his backpack before they leave. The two manage to make their way through campus and into the main hall of the school without so much as a glance in their direction. They share a look of relief, though Warren knows they aren’t in the clear just yet. He goes ahead of Nathan to scope out the hallway leading to the science labs, rounding the corner with slight trepidation at the prospect of finding a 1980’s version of Ms. Grant ready to scold him for daring to trespass. But there’s no one, so Warren sends a thumbs up Nathan’s way.

Warren’s newfound confidence is quickly extinguished after he bounds up to the science room and tries the door handle with no luck. He spins to face Nathan frantically, “shit, it’s locked! What do we do now!?” From above the mound of red fabric draped over the reactor in his hands, Nathan frowns in thought, opening his mouth to answer. The sharp click of the door swinging open behind Warren stops whatever it is that Nathan was going to say and Warren doesn’t have time to react when he turns around and immediately knocks into whoever it is that’s exiting the room.

Books clatter to the floor, Warren’s gaze falling with them. “Sorry! OhmyGod, sorry!” he sputters out, dropping to his knees to begin picking them back up. A few papers slipped from within one of the notebooks to scatter around them, making Warren feel even worse until he’s reaching for one of the sheets and freezes, reading a name neatly printed in its top right corner. His eyes dart up to see a young girl who’s crouched down across from Warren, mirroring his action of collecting books and papers where they’ve fallen. She wears a blue cardigan and has shoulder length brown hair, dark like her eyes underneath thick lashes. She’s pretty, really pretty.

“Mom!?” Warren slaps a hand over his mouth. But it’s too late. The girl–his mom –blinks up at him, eyebrows raising to sit high on her forehead in surprise. “I mean, uh…” Warren racked his brain for some sort of way to backtrack from the horrifying thing he’d just blurted out, coming up with absolutely nothing to rectify the result of his very clear, very loud, and very genuine shock at seeing what he believes to be the 17-year-old version of his own mother before him. Nope. No coming back from that one.

“How embarrassing,” Warren tries again, straightening up. She follows with some delay. “You just really look like my mom. N-not that you look old! I meant, like, when my mom was in high school–super similar. I’m, uh, actually your cousin!” Oh God, please make it stop. “I moved here recently. And am going to your school now. First day.” Nathan shifts at his side, and Warren latches onto the movement. “A-and, this is my friend! He moved here, too. Both our families! Just couldn’t be apart,” he lets out a shaky laugh. “We came up from, uh…”

Nathan doesn’t even skip a beat, confidently stating in a voice that is way too calm, “Fort Lauderdale.”

Warren’s left giving an unacknowledged incredulous look Nathan’s way before pulling his attention back to his mom, “Yes. Fort Lauderdale.” Her eyebrows have lowered, though only slightly as she still hasn’t offered a word in return. In his panicked state, and with what is quickly becoming some sort of stress induced habit, Warren goes for introducing the two, “Nathan, this is Louisa, my m–cousin. Louisa, this is Nathan.”

“Lou,” she corrects, “never Louisa.”

A long, awkward pause grows between the three, filled only by the consistent eye contact amongst them all. He knew that. He knows everyone calls her Lou, not Louisa. He also knows–shit. “Okay that’s a lie I’m actually your son.” Warren blurts out, making it sound like one big word.

Lou presses her lips together, slowly blinking, “you just figured out that I don’t have any cousins, didn’t you–”

“–yes.”

Another beat passes, then Nathan buries his head into the varsity-jacket-covered reactor in his hands, “Jesus fucking Christ, Graham.”

Lou seems to react at that, frowning at Nathan’s comment and averts her gaze from him to begin studying Warren with a keen eye. She takes a step towards him, one arm closely clutching the recently collected books of hers while the other tentatively lifts with an outstretched finger to prod at Warren’s cheek. “Fascinating…”

“Yup,” Warren chuckles, though it sounds almost as if he’s choking from the strain. “We accidentally got launched back in time after getting struck by lightning and are trying desperately to go to the future—our present, but your future, I suppose.” He pauses, taking a second to ponder over his lack of self preservation. “I gotta say, I honestly have no idea why I’m telling you all this but at the same time if there’s anyone that could help us, it’s probably going to be the best physicist that I know. Which happens to be, uh… you.”

She’s stunned. Or at least, Warren assumes since she’s now petrified in place. He brings up a hand to rub at the back of his neck nervously, sharing a worried glance with Nathan. Then someone–a teacher perhaps–can be heard rounding the corner behind them. Their worried exchange quickly shifts to alarm and Lou jumps into action by ushering the two of them into the science lab with a hurried ‘get in, quick!’

Stumbling inside, Lou swiftly closes the door behind them. They all wait for the footsteps to pass, Warren holding his breath until the sound fades. “Thanks,” he breathes out. Lou lets go of the doorknob she’d been grasping onto tightly, turning to press her back against the door.

“I still don’t understand… there’s no way–”

“I know,” Warren holds up a hand, “trust me, I know. I’m still struggling to wrap my own brain around it”

Lou shakes her head a little, “but how?”

Warren looks over at Nathan, and the two share a look of understanding before they move to one of the lab benches in unison. Warren clears off enough space for Nathan to place the covered reactor down. Lou’s inched closer, peering over their shoulders to see what it is they’re doing. Her expression of disbelief is now mixed with curiosity as Warren gestures over to it. “Because of this.” As if on cue, Nathan reaches to pull away his jacket and uncover the reactor which stands tall–if not a little charred–beneath. “I’ve somehow managed to make a real, working time machine.”

Lou glances at the reactor, then to Warren, then back to the reactor, then to Nathan where she lingers for a second, then landing on the reactor once more. “Right…” she finally comes up with.

Warren anticipates that she might try to make a run for it. To sprint away from them screaming bloody murder and sic the principal or security on them, saying that two crazy dudes who claim to not only be from the future, but that one of them is her future son, are trying to coerce her into fixing their “time machine”, thus getting them arrested–his dreams of getting into Stanford perishing once again–and stranded in the past. Now present? Warren’s brain hurts.

But instead of all that, Lou takes a step towards the reactor, throwing a cautious look Warren’s way. “May I…?” The tension that consumes Warren’s body bleeds out of his muscles, letting out a shaky breath of relief along with it.

“Yeah, please,” he waves his hand to gesture her towards it. “I assume since it was smoking up a storm when first getting here that it’s in no condition to take us home. Plus, I’m pretty sure some of the internal stuff has completely melted, judging by the, uh, burnt electrical smell.”

Lou hums as Warren explains, thoroughly examining the outside of the machine. Warren and Nathan move closer, too, until they’re all huddled around it. She then picks up a pencil that’s lying on the table to prod at it, gradually using it to move the reactor around until it’s turned 180 degrees. Both Nathan and Warren watch her intently and when she pops open the small door on the top, they all peer inside.

Warren’s heart sinks when what he sees left of the inside proves him right. There’s a collection of different coloured wires that have melded into one giant mass from fusing together. That’s going to be a pain in the ass.

Along with the complete destruction of the wiring, the interior walls of the reactor look in poor condition with its equally singed appearance. Admittedly, all the components that comprised of the device were in dire need of replacement. To put it simply, they basically needed to remake the time machine from scratch. Now that’s realllly going to be a pain in the ass.

Warren slumps against the countertop. He’s unmotivated, to say the least. The prospect of building a whole new reactor is not something he feels confident about. It had taken him a solid week and a half to put the thing together in Ms. Grant’s class, not taking into account all the theorizing that went into it prior to the physical construction of the thing. But when he turns his defeated gaze to Lou, he sees her tapping the pencil in her hand against her chin thoughtfully.

“Do you have your notes?” She points the question at Warren.

He blinks, then stumbles to unloop his bag from his shoulders and extract his notebook from within. “Y-yeah, of course! Everything I wrote on it is in here,” he holds it out for her and she gingerly takes it from his extended hand.

She flips through it, face set in determination as she does so, “let’s get to it, then.”

It takes some time to get the ball rolling, Lou mostly preoccupied with going through Warren’s notebook for the first while. In that time Warren and Nathan stand by the reactor while Lou idly paces the length of the lab absorbing Warren’s notes. Seeing her do so makes him slightly self conscious about the state of his writing and erratic note taking and yet above all else the image itself is bizarre beyond belief. It is at this point that it really hits him that the person in front of him is his mom. That’s his mom.  

“Heyyy, earth to Graham. You good?” Nathan’s waving a hand in front of Warren’s face, his usual crudeness seeping into his words, though his voice is lowered considerably so it’s just between the two of them.

“Oh–yeah…I’m good. This is just… really fucking weird…” he trails off. Now he knows what Nathan must’ve felt like seeing his dad the day before. Or maybe he doesn’t. Considering his mom isn’t a piece of shit like Nathan’s dad is. He flinches at that thought, yeesh, that’s a little harsh. But it’s still a jarring experience, to say the least.

“Yeah. Really fucking weird,” Nathan echoes as the two continue watching Lou walk back and forth before them. Warren can sense Nathan shift beside him after another minute or so passes. “It’s really weird being in the 80s. And by really weird, I mean extremely fucked up. But it’s also kinda…”

Warren peers over at him. “...Cool?” he offers. Because if truth be told, aside from the initial shock and being overwhelmed by their situation, walking around in an 80s version of Arcadia Bay was kind’ve really… tubular.

Nathan lets out a huff, and Warren swears he can almost make out the ghost of a smirk on his lips. One that’s quickly hidden as he wipes a hand over his mouth. “Cool. Yeah, it’s kinda cool to see.”

That’s something Warren definitely didn’t expect to hear from Nathan.

“Alright.” Both boys’ attention return to Lou, who’s ceased her pacing and stands facing them now. “I think we can salvage this.”

Warren and Lou immediately begin working by deconstructing the reactor, but not before equipping themselves with the proper tools and protection. All the while they exchange a bunch of scientific jargon, throwing ideas back and forth. He’s sure it goes over Nathan’s head, who lingers at a distance. He continues to give them space for the entirety of the time they spend working on the reactor. The endless conversation Warren has with his mom gradually moves into more casual territory–nothing like talking cult classic 80s films during the 80s–mixed with discussing the project at hand. It’s nice, and Warren finds himself relaxing enough to actually have fun, feeling totally in his element.

Hours pass, unbeknownst to Warren. And at one point Nathan flickers the lightswitch of the overhanging bulb he and Lou work underneath to get their attention. “I’m hungry.” Warren blinks up at Nathan’s bored expression, having declared the statement in a monotone fashion. Warren suddenly tunes into his own hunger, which he hadn’t even noticed. He casts a glance at the analog clock at the front of the class, reading an exact quarter past 8 PM.

“Holy crap!” Warren exclaims, realizing that what felt like an hour or so of work had actually translated into their entire morning, afternoon, and is now ticking past the borderline of their evening spent working on the reactor.

“Ya, I literally took a nap while you guys were tinkering away. My phone died like 2 hours in.” Nathan’s moved to sit atop one of the lab benches now, and Warren tries not to be stressed out over how unsanitary that probably is.

He looks at his side to where Lou stands, projecting a confused look at Nathan. “I’m actually pretty hungry, too,” he admits. She returns her attention to Warren, face morphing to one tinged with humour. “What?”

“I was going to say that I’m not your mom and to get your own food, but I forgot you guys are stranded here. And that I am, in fact, your mom. Apparently.” She frowns at that. Probably weirded out by voicing the strange yet true statement aloud. Then she’s turning away to dig into her bag on the lab chair closest to her, pulling out a set of car keys. “You guys like Thai food? There’s a pretty good place down the street from school.” She waggles her keys in front of Warren’s face, “if your friend doesn’t mind taking my car to pick it up?”

“My…?” Warren doesn’t automatically clock that she’s talking about Nathan. “Oh, right–yeah. My friend. Nathan.”

Lou hesitates, “he does know how to drive, right?”

Suddenly appearing beside them, and giving them a scowl each, Nathan snatches the keys from Lou’s still outstretched hand. “Of course I know how to drive. So what do you nerds want?”

Departing a minute later with a scribbled out list of their orders and some money courtesy of Lou, Nathan leaves the two of them to grab the food. It should only take him around half an hour, yet Warren is overcome with an impatience at his return. And it’s not from the hunger that he’s become acutely aware of since. It’s the fact that him and Lou are now alone, which is stupid considering it has pretty much only been the two of them even while Nathan was still here. But it was easier when he hadn’t been so hyper-aware of that fact.

“Thanks for covering dinner, by the way. And offering your car. That’s super nice of you, since we just kinda barged in and demanded your help.” He takes a seat on a stool beside Lou, who’s jotting down a new list of materials they’ll need for reconstruction of the reactor.

“No problem,” she sends him a smile and Warren latches onto how eerily familiar it looks, trying his best not to show how weirded out he feels from it. “So your friend, not much of a science buff I take it?”

“Nathan? Nahh,” Warren can’t think of a single instance where he’s ever even seen Nathan in the science labs before. Not that they were in the same classes, but Warren spent enough time at the labs to know.

“More of a jock, then.”

Warren chuckles, “the jacket give it away?” The same jacket that now sits on one of the lab benches after Nathan had balled it into a makeshift pillow at some point while they had been busy. Warren shrugs, “not too big into sports either, I’d say.” From the couple of games Warren had been dragged to by his small friend group, Nathan had either not been there, or benched for the entirety of the game. Something told him Nathan has no interest in being an active member of the football team. “He’s actually interested in photography. This is probably the longest I’ve seen him without a camera.” It was true. Though Warren rarely paid Nathan any attention before time travelling together, he knew of his photography. Max had spoken about his style. Unnerving, yet intense and quite captivating were the terms she’d used to describe it.

“Ah, the suffering artist type,” Lou nods her head in exaggerated understanding. “What’s his style like?”

“Monochrome, mostly. Like, black and white.” Max had told him that, too. How, “his photos are deeply contrasted in more than just harsh lighting.” He thinks for a moment, “I don’t know how much studio photography he does, but he always has his camera slung across him.” Just like Max. He wonders if under different circumstances the two might have been friends. If there was an alternate reality out there where they shared a friend group.

Warren thinks back to the early days of the school year, his very first year at Blackwell. He’d seen Nathan pretty regularly at the start of September, passing him in the halls before and between classes, seeing him leisurely around the dorms, always wielding his film camera whether with his jock friends or strutting alongside Victoria Chase. Come to think of it, pretty much after a week into the first month Warren had stopped seeing him altogether. All but a ghost to the campus and dormitories. Even with his room adjacent from Warren’s.

The next time he’d seen Nathan was in the hallway the day of the storm. He hadn’t even had his camera with him then.

“Your watch is broken.”

“Huh?” Warren blinks, noticing how Lou examines his wrist. “Right, yeah. I think it got fucked after being launched here.”

Lou hums in contemplation, “I don’t think I can fix it, I’ve never seen one like that before.”

Warren screws his face into a frown, looking down at his watch. He didn’t have the chance to ponder over it, but now that he does, he’s pretty bummed. It was one of those calculator ones, super cool and the same one he’d been eyeing at the most recent tech expo he’d gone to. A birthday gift he’s especially fond of and given to him by, well. His mom. He hopes once he gets back there will be a way to fix it.

“I’m sure I have a spare one back at my dorm that I can lend you, if you’d like? Not as suave as this one but I’m sure it’ll do.”

“That would be great, thank you,” Warren’s a little taken aback, hoping his thanks doesn’t lack the overwhelming gratitude that he holds over her offer. He knew his mom was one of the kindest people in the world, but damn. Warren doesn’t know if he’d be this chill if the roles were reversed.

Soon after their talk, the jiggling of the door handle signals Nathan’s return. As well as: food. Which, at this point, Warren has become quite ravenous for. They chow down almost in silence from how hungry they are and once they’ve finished it’s safe to say Warren is full and ready to pass out. Though, with his increasing exhaustion comes the familiar dread of their poor sleeping predicament.

As if on the same wavelength, Nathan lets out a groan from beside him. “I do not want to spend another night in your beat-down car.”

“Hey,” Warren shoots a frown Nathan’s way. “She’s treated us well, we’d have no other option if it wasn’t for her.” The pain in his back protests at his defence, making him sigh. “But yeah… it’s definitely not ideal.”

“You two have been sleeping in a car?” Lou's concern is both evident in her expression and voice when she points the question at the two of them.

Warren does a half shrug, a bit of shame in the movement as if he were admitting it to a worrying parent. Which, she kind’ve is. “Only one night so far…”

“Well,” Lou straightens up from where she’d been leaning on the lab counter, her composure shifting as she threads her arms back into her cardigan that she’d shed some time while working on the reactor. “No way am I letting you guys do that for another night. You’ll stay in my room.” She’s adopted a stern tone that is all too reminiscent of her future self. A tone he knows is useless to argue against.

Warren shares a look with Nathan, seeing the same surprise reflected there. “I–are you sure?” He’s looking back at Lou, who has conjured up a white sheet of sorts to cover the time machine, clear that she’s more than made up her mind.

“I’m certain. I mostly stay at Harry’s, anyway, so it’s usually empty.”

For a second Warren is stunned at the mention of his dad’s name. He blinks, trying to pretend he’s not as affected as he actually is. His dad’s here, too. A younger version of his dad. Just living his teenage life alongside his mom. Weird.

“You just gunna stare at her like an idiot or do you think you could accept her offer so we don’t have to spend another night in that heap of junk you call a car?” Nathan bumps Warren’s shoulder, drawing his attention back to the present. Well, the current present.

“Uh, y-yeah, I mean, yes! That would actually be really great.”

“Let’s go then,” Lou’s holding out the covered-up reactor, but as Warren raises his arms to accept it, Nathan swoops in to scoop it from her hands.

“I’ll take this, you grab my jacket,” He nods in the direction of where it’s still balled up on the lab bench. “You’ll probably need it.”

Warren’s dumbstruck, arms still raised in front of him like a fool at the statement like he’s short-circuited again. “R-right.” He quickly drops his arms. “Thanks.” He’s hurrying to grab his stuff and Nathan’s jacket, putting it on and trying his best not to read into the gesture. It’s just Nathan’s jacket that Nathan never takes off. He totally only offered it because he’s still wearing Warren’s sweater that he’s been acutely aware of the entire day.

It’s weighty, and a surprisingly nice material. It’s cool. As in, it looks cool. At least, it’s always looked cool on Nathan. Warren vaguely wonders if he looks half as cool in it himself. Probably not.

“You coming, nerd?”

“Yup!” Warren yelps out, almost jumping out of his skin. He grabs his backpack and heads towards the silhouette of Nathan in the doorframe after he’s turned off the light. Thankful for how it cloaks him in darkness to hide his embarrassment.

Fifteen minutes later, the three ascend the stairs to the dorms. The hazy exhaustion that had hit Warren after dinner and the hours of their hard work is promptly replaced by the chill of night and the exciting prospect of sneaking into the girls' dormitories.

Ew, he thinks to himself. That just makes him seem weird. But there’s something exhilarating about it. Like some sort of high school cliche seen in those coming-of-age movies. The ones where there is always a trio getting up to no good. And Warren has to admit to himself, he’s actually having fun in the process alongside Nathan and Lou. Warren had never really thought himself the type to partake in such things, even if he’d indulged in a similar daydream once or twice. Though, certainly never picturing it with the company he currently has.

As a contrast, he’s almost positive Nathan’s done this sort of thing before. Sneaking into the girls' dorms. Warren’s thrill lessens somewhat at the thought of it. The image of Nathan climbing through one of the windows, stumbling inside to meet up with a girl late into the night. Their hands all over each other, his jacket draped across her shoulders…

The same Jacket that’s now slung on Warren’s very own frame. He feels a blush creep up into his cheeks at the unintentional parallel of that thought. There’s an uneasiness that settles in the pit of his stomach now, replacing the excitement momentarily. The grin he’d had on his face since arriving outside of Lou’s room falters, too. He doesn’t want to picture any more of this scenario he’s created in his head.

Trying to think of something else, anything else, Warren focuses his attention on Lou as she turns the key to her room. She swings open the door, waving them inside. She follows, careful when closing it behind them and automatically moves to flick on the lamp on her dresser.

The room is immediately illuminated in a soft glow. Warren takes note of the abundance of books. And he’s not using the term lightly. There are, like, a lot of books. Equal in both novels and textbooks. They scatter across almost every surface, some even being piled on the floor. Her bed isn’t made and for a brief moment, Warren is overcome with the unjust treatment he receives at his own room being a mess at their house. At least now he knows where he gets it from.

“Make yourselves at home,” Lou holds out a hand to gesture to the space. “Oh! Let me grab you that watch.” She begins rummaging around in her desk and Warren takes the opportunity to busy himself with finding a free corner of the room to put his backpack down in. “This should treat you well enough,” Lou holds out a worn, brown leather watch for him.

Warren gingerly takes it from her, fastening it around his wrist. “This is perfect! It’ll be pretty crucial for going back.” While working on the reactor together he’d informed Lou of their whole plan. The scheduled lighting strike time and location being their ticket to going home. He’d mostly wanted her insight, but also hoped she might help them in their endeavour, which she’d offered almost instantaneously.

“I thought so, too,” she smiles. “I guess I’ll leave you guys to settle in, I should really be heading out.”

“Whoa, wait, alone!?” Warren’s shaking his head, “no way. We’ll walk you, the 80s are like, super notorious for serial killers!”

Lou laughs at that, “I’m pretty sure if I’d got murdered you’d already know about it. But… I would feel a lot better being accompanied to my car, regardless.”

So they do just that. And Warren takes a certain comfort in him and Nathan walking Lou to her car on the other side of campus. Once they’ve made it, she leaves Warren with the key to the dorm and a promise to be back the following morning before they say their goodbyes for the night.

They watch her drive off and Warren waits until the taillights of her car disappear before spinning around to face Nathan. He stands a few feet off, shuffling on his feet awkwardly with his hands buried deep within the pockets of Warren’s sweater in a way that Warren himself mirrors in Nathan’s jacket.

Warren lets out a breath full of a tension he hadn’t realized he’s holding onto. Tension that now seeps through to his fingertips as he shakes out his hands in front of him.

The nerves jolting through his body turns into a building excitement as the crazy day they’d had finally sinks in. He just met his mom. Met, and hung out with. Alongside Nathan Prescott.

If Max could see him now.

It’s exhilarating, the thought of having worked with his mom at a time where she was the same age as him. Warren had fun. And he can’t wait to do it all again tomorrow.

He takes in a deep breath now through his nostrils. There is something in the air that night, other than its chilling crispness, that has Warren–for lack of a better term–giddy.

“So…” Warren breathes out.

“So.” Nathan echos.

Flashing a smile Nathan’s way, Warren is surprised to find it’s not met with its usual hostility. Nathan still rolls his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twist up. It’s enough to make Warren gawk at the gesture, which he’s sure to wipe off his face with a sleeve-covered hand in haste.

Then he feels the urge to start running off at the mouth, like Warren’s prone to doing. It bubbles up to his throat, threatening to spill forth. But he holds his tongue. We’re not friends.

The words Nathan threw at him only the previous night pierce his thoughts. Full of so much spite and resentment that they sting even now at their recollection. Better to leave things unsaid, Warren supposes. And yet he can’t help but be a little bummed. The whole time he’d been interacting with his mom he’d subconsciously been noting all the things he’d wanted to recite and discuss with Nathan afterwards. Unknowingly, Warren was looking forward to telling Nathan all his thoughts. Imagining, too, how they’d get carried away over it all.

The brief moment the two of them shared in the Two Whales diner freaking out over witnessing a young Joyce for the first time flashes in his mind. Eyes blown wide in disbelief, yet also the moment they began to truly believe. Snuffed out just as fast as it happened. We’re not friends. So don’t act like it. Warren might’ve scoffed at the idea once. Hell, he’s pretty sure he has.

And now? So don’t act like it. He never thought it’d be so difficult.

So it’s with a stride-stopping, breath-hitching bewilderment that overtakes Warren when Nathan is the one who decides to initiate the conversation further. “That went well.” Warren’s neck snaps up, not being able to tell if Nathan’s being sarcastic. Narrowing his eyes, Warren analyzes Nathan’s expression to determine that he must be egging him on. To coax him into having a full-blown Warren-ramble in an attempt to no doubt ridicule him–or worse–bring about an incentive to have another argument because the two of them are, and will remain, the furthest thing from friends and anything that might ever lead to.

And yet, instead of all that, Warren is faced with a blank stare that he’s unable to read. And then Nathan shrugs in a way that Warren can only describe as… casual. Nathan Prescott. Acting casual. Unheard of. “Seriously, your mom’s actually pretty cool.”

Warren’s left blinking his eyes owlishly, waiting for his brain to catch up and respond in a cohesive and timely manner. “...I…uh–yeah, uh–yes.”

Nailed it.

“And a genius, too,” Nathan continues. “I think she’ll actually be able to help you get back.”

“Right!?” Warren’s excitement creeps back up and he can’t help expressing his agreement with increasing enthusiasm. “She is cool, and super smart. I have no doubt she can help us! Plus, we actually get to sleep in a real bed thanks to her!”

“Not to mention she’s smokin’ hot,” Nathan chimes in matter of factly. Warren nearly chokes at the comment. No–he actually does choke, trying–and failing–to recover when he sends Nathan what could only be described as a look of utter horror. Nathan side-eyes him, a sly grin creeping across his face. “I’m joking. Totally worth it for that reaction though.”

They begin making their way back towards the dorm, though they do so leisurely at a pace that drags out as their conversation flows. It’s mostly Warren who rambles away at Nathan. And he wonders if he’s even really listening to him. But each time he looks over, he finds his full attention directed at Warren. Their eyes that meet momentarily before Warren breaks away as he continues talking, telling himself he’s only doing so to make sure Nathan’s still present in the conversation. But in truth, Warren finds the connection too intimidating. Or, perhaps that’s not the right term to describe what it is that he’s feeling. Perhaps it’s all a bit too intimate for him.

How they stare hollowed and half-lidded, unwavering as they span across Warren’s face in a way that makes Warren feel more than just heard, but seen, too. The striking blue he is so used to perceiving looks darker in this lighting. The overhanging beams of street lights the only source of illumination for their walk back. It casts sharp shadows across Nathan’s face, carving out his cheekbones in a way he hasn’t witnessed them before. His eyes almost look like a different colour altogether, pupils so dilated that they absorb almost all the surrounding blue.

And that’s when Warren realizes just how normal Nathan looks. There’s no scrutiny twisting his face, no consistently furrowed brow that hardens his gaze and makes him look like… well, like Nathan. No, this is a different Nathan. And maybe that’s the reason Warren breaks the contact so quickly each time.

All the while he still focuses on the conversation at hand. Or, Warren supposes it’s more akin to a lecture at this point seeing as he doesn't give pause for Nathan to respond to any of what he is saying.

“–and you know Trevor, right? That’s who I thought it was, but turns out nope! That was before I realized what was going on. Lou mentioned the dude’s name is actually Argyle. Surprisingly wise guy–but now I'm convinced he must be related to Trevor somehow.” Warren gasps for air, not having realized how out of breath he is from simultaneously walking and talking. Jeez, am I out of shape or do I need to learn to shut the fuck up?

“Anyways,” Warren continues. “I guess I’ll have to ask him when we get back.”

“Yeah. Guess so.”

After a short pause, Warren presses his lips together, suddenly acutely self aware. “Sorry–I’m, ah, rambling. About stupid shit.” It takes him a few steps to realize Nathan’s not beside him anymore.

“Why do you always do that.” Nathan’s stopped and Warren halts, too, turning to look at him with evident confusion. “Apologize. Demean yourself,” Nathan clarifies.

Warren blinks,” I–I don’t know. I guess I just have a tendency to run off at the mouth, and I know it can… I guess, be annoying.”

“It is annoying,” Nathan confirms flatly. “But you don’t have to say you’re sorry all the time. And the stuff you’re saying isn’t stupid. It’s important. It’s important to you.”

Nathan picks up his pace again, leaving Warren behind as if he hadn’t just dropped some insane bomb of sincere advice that Warren immediately takes to heart. “Oh.” he’s jogging to catch up after his moment of internalization, so caught up in the sentiment that he only manages a pathetic sounding, “right. Thanks.”

A silence stretches out between them, and though it’s no longer really as awkward as it once used to be, Warren still finds he wants to fill it. He glances over at Nathan, who looks ahead with an unreadable expression that Warren interprets most closely to that of boredom, if a bit tired. His gaze travels down to examine the sweater he still wears, retreating to look at his own arms still buried within the sleeves of Nathan’s varsity jacket and wondering if it’s become a permanent trade.

“Sooooo,” Warren draws out. “You play football.” It isn’t really a question, he’s well aware of Nathan and the football jocks, but it’s one way to fill the silence. And to his surprise, Nathan reacts in a way he least expects. He laughs. It’s breathy, and probably the result of his own surprise at Warren’s sudden choice of topic, but it’s a laugh nonetheless, and somehow it gives Warren the sensation of butterflies in his chest in a way he’d never experienced before.

“I’m on the team, sure.”

“I’ve never actually seen you do it. I can’t really picture you doing it, either. Playing on the team and stuff. No offence.” After a slight pause, Warren adds, “Go Bigfoots, I guess.”

A beat passes, then they both start laughing. It’s to the point where Warren has to wipe tears from his eyes. It wasn’t funny, it was just stupid. But the high from that night could’ve made anything funny.

“Yeah, it’s not really for me. It’s mostly a family thing, I suppose. You just kinda do what they expect you to do, I never really gave it much thought.”

“That…sucks,” Warren blurts out. Wow. eloquently put, Warren.

Nathan shrugs, “It’s kind of a drag. When your dad forces you into all the extracurricular shit he can find, it kinda takes all the fun out of it. Then it just becomes upholding the family name.” He momentarily looks up, tilting his head thoughtfully, “though, I didn’t mind theatre.”

Warren balks at that, “you did theatre!?”

“Oh yeah,” Nathan says dryly. “You’re looking at an esteemed cast member of Blackwell’s 2010 rendition of The Tempest.”

“No fucking way. Who’d you play?”

“Caliban.”

Warren gives Nathan a once over, nodding slightly, “I can see that.”

“Fuck you.” Nathan brings up a hand to push Warren’s shoulder, though it lacks any real force. “But even that lost its appeal when my dad got involved. The man knows how to ruin pretty much anything related to this goddamn school. So, no, dad, football isn’t my passion,” He shoots a smirk Warren's way, which is quick to slip from his face. “I’d rather be doing literally anything else.”

“Like your photography?”

Nathan noticeably stiffens at that. It takes him a while to respond, as if he’d been transported away at its mention. “I haven’t shot my own stuff in what feels like forever…”

Nathan shoves his hands in his pockets, not elaborating any further. Warren doesn’t really understand, since the only thing he actually knew about Nathan prior to everything is that he enjoys photography. But he doesn’t push, opting to shrug it off.

The dormitories come into view as they round the pathway they’d taken through the main campus, attempting to be as discreet as possible when finding their way back to Lou’s vacant room. It’s safe to say that once they finally make it inside and close the door Warren’s exhaustion has reached its peak. The adrenaline and excitement sufficiently worn off now that their night is coming to a close.

Warren changes into a pair of baggy pyjama pants and an oversized worn Grease t-shirt that Lou had left behind for him, alongside another set for Nathan, who Warren waits for after having left to change in the washroom. His feet practically drag on the floor at this point in anticipation of sleep. But he only makes it a couple of steps across the small space before he stops dead in his tracks.

Warren reels on Nathan just as he reenters the room, “we have a problem.”

“Yeah we do, ” Nathan scoffs, attention lowering to Warren’s shirt. “Why am I stuck with Star Trek when you got Grease?”

“What–? No, not that. And yours is Star Wars, not Star Trek.”

“Whatever, nerd.”

“I’m talking about the fact that there’s only one bed?” Warren steps aside to gesture at the single twin. The same twin bed that he’s all too familiar with having in his own dorm room. A small, little detail he’d completely forgotten about until now.

Nathan leans to the side to look at it, then back to Warren, “...okay?”

“It doesn’t bother you that we only have that devastatingly tiny twin bed?”

“You’re more than welcome to sleep on the floor.”

“I’m not–” Warren frowns, “you don’t think that’s weird? That we’re going to be all up in each other?”

Nathan narrows his eyes, “well, now you’re making it weird.”

“No! I mean–it’s just gunna be cramped, that’s all–”

“Just shut up and get in.”

“Right. Okay.” Warren shuts up and awkwardly waits as Nathan throws back the covers, climbing in after him a second later. I’m just sharing a bed. With Nathan Prescott. Nothing weird about that. Nope.

And it…surprisingly isn't. Once the two shuffle themselves into comfortable enough positions it’s really not that bad. They lie back to back, and Warren doesn’t even notice he’s there. So tired that he doesn’t have the capacity to internally rack over the situation. And soon after his head hits the pillow he’s already drifting off. He’s almost gone, too, until–

“Warren?”

Warren’s eyelids flutter open, taken aback by the sudden disruption in silence. But even more so than that is the soft way Nathan speaks his name. He’s never heard such uncertainty in his voice. He almost believes he imagined it. Almost. “…yeah?”

“Why are you helping me?”

Warren frowns, unknowingly to Nathan. He has nothing but the darkness of the room to stare into. Pitch black, leaving only his mind to picture how Nathan looks when he poses the question. His voice shaking and at an octave Warren isn’t used to hearing from him  “I already told you—“

“It doesn't make sense. The things I’ve said to you. The things I’ve done to you. Like that day in the parking lot.”

Warren holds his breath. “Yeah. That was pretty shitty. You were kind’ve a dick.”

There’s a dry laugh from Nathan that lacks any real humour, “kind've?”

“Okay. More than kind've. The way you hurt me, and Max… honestly I more than kind’ve hated you. You’re fucking mean and scary. I mostly avoided you around school cause, well. The one time I didn’t I ended up with an almost broken nose.” It was true, Warren’s well aware of his feelings for Nathan before all this started. He had really despised him–a fact that never really bothered Warren before.

And Nathan was scary. What happened in the parking lot isn’t something Warren’s going to forget anytime soon. And yet… in a way he had. When getting launched through time together he didn’t think twice about approaching Nathan. Sure, most of that decision was likely dictated by an adrenaline-induced bravery slash panic at the fact that Warren had been afraid he’d accidentally killed the guy, but the moment they’d stepped foot in an alternate time–far from the Blackwell they knew–Nathan was different.

He was still frantic, all over the place, and downright mean, though it all lacked its usual bite in comparison to the Nathan from the parking lot he’d witnessed with Max. It was almost…a muted version. Lessened, if only slightly. He still had his moments, like in the diner after Warren insisted on working together. The anger that flashes so suddenly, without any warning. Some of his agitated and frantic nature lingering, too. The occasional glances around them when they’re in public and how he fidgets incessantly while getting worked up.

But there are other things. New things. Signs of an easy-going Nathan beneath it all. It’s buried deep, but if tonight proved anything, it’s that Nathan is human. There is a person there. One that’s flawed. Flawed to an extent that Warren is starting to realize is way deeper than the surface level he’s always assumed.

Assumptions. Of who Nathan is. Warren doesn’t know if he’s more confused than ever, or finally starting to see some of the pieces that make up Nathan fall into place.

Warren breathes out slowly into the silence that’s built up between them again. He musters the courage to continue, voicing what it is that he wants to say. What he thinks he’s right about, but doesn’t know for certain. “But… maybe… all of that, all of what you do… doesn’t come from nowhere. That there’s a reason behind your… I don’t know…” That maybe you’re hurting, too. Warren doesn’t speak aloud his last thought. He’s hesitant to take it too far, even though Nathan initiated the conversation in the first place.

In his admittance–and the following absence of a response–Warren’s heart rate picks up in anticipation. A minute passes. Then two. Then Warren loses count. And in the expansion of quiet, he thinks Nathan might have fallen asleep. But then Nathan whispers something. It’s so softly uttered that Warren can’t quite make out the words. Nathan shifts beside him. And he knows. Warren knows without seeing him that he’s uncomfortable with his own confrontation. That he regrets it.

Warren doesn’t know what to make of it all. He tries to repeat the conversation in his head amidst the battle against exhaustion that threatens to completely consume him. He manages to hold onto consciousness long enough to discover what it is that Nathan had said. And how it didn’t make sense at first, until Warren realizes Nathan had been talking to himself. About himself. Simply stating what Warren had been reiterating the whole time himself.

Destructive qualities.

[wri0thesley]

I'd love to request more Naoya smut with him and a now pregnant!reader from that breeding fic because him busting a nut thinking about how good they'll look knocked up really made me feel some type of way!!! maybe reader-chan will even finally get a smooch from this HORRIBLE man. If you are not into doing continuations on requests no worries tho and thank you for your incredible writing as always, Nat!

reader can have a little smooch. as a treat. don’t let naoya hear you say he’s not a good husband <3

Expecting - Naoya x Fem!Reader (3.3k)

Both of you got what you wanted. Naoya got more than he bargained for. sequel to covet.

warnings: not sfw, minors dni! afab reader, fem pronouns. pregnancy sex, light lactation, misogyny, power imbalance, breeding kink, mentions of alcohol, naoya perhaps having some Feelings???.

[comments/reblogs are much appreciated! // my jjk masterlist]

Naoya catches you every so often for the next month and you easily roll onto your back for him, helpless under the brush of his fingers and the snap of his hips. He smirks at you when he passes you in the corridor, but you have nothing to show for all of the times you’ve warmed his bed – yet.

When you do, though – when a month and a half passes, and you are beginning to feel sick in a morning, and your monthly bleed has still not made itself known – you go to Naoya with deference in your eye. Once a servant, always a servant – and you are not stupid. You know that what you carry inside you is a bargaining chip.

Naoya wants someone who will submit, and you want an end to the life of drudgery and roughened hands and back-breaking work, of being ignored or reviled or mocked for having the misfortune to not be born with Zenin as a surname. Naoya takes you to a private, discreet physician with an iron grip on your arm and his light eyes sharp.

It’s amazing, how quickly a man like Naoya Zenin can set things in motion – when it’s not simply confirmed that you’re carrying his child, but that you’re carrying his son. His heir.

It’s so easy for him.

Suddenly you are no longer a maid, but Naoya’s betrothed – and though the other members of the household look at you in disgust, knowing that you spread your legs for the title, none of them dare risk Naoya’s ire by being outright rude to you. He and his family spin it like silk; not that Naoya took advantage of a servant, but that you have been part of some grand, beautiful Cinderella story – that Naoya is in love with you.

(It’s probably for the better that the Zenins prefer servants who can see cursed spirits, at the very least – if you had not had any kind of talent for jujutsu, who knows what would have happened to you? Naoya would not have risked his son being born utterly ordinary).

And then you are Naoya’s wife. It wouldn’t do, of course, for the future head of the family to have his heir and son born out of wedlock, even if society have progressed enough that you falling pregnant with said son was before the betrothal. The latter is a disgrace; the former is a laugh over a cup of sake in the dark, a toast to Naoya’s virility, a wink-wink-nudge-nudge at how lucky Naoya is to have found someone who gives themselves up so utterly and completely and easily, including their virtue--

You know that Naoya is not in love with you. You are fairly certain that the only thing Naoya loves is his name, and the power imbued therein. Still. You share a bed with him, and you’re given silken kimonos and pretty hair ornaments and anything that you ask for, and you are . . .

Respected is not quite the right word. Not for a woman who is Naoya’s. Certainly, he does not respect you.

But you are not reviled, not ignored, not beholden to the demands of your betters. Now, you are one of the betters, and if your fellow servants are frustrated that they have to bow to you in deference, they do not dare show it knowing that if you asked Naoya, he would have them punished for the transgression.

You had perhaps thought that once you were bearing his child, Naoya would lose interest in you. You know as well as anyone that nobody would bat an eyelid at Naoya seeking his pleasure somewhere else; it’s almost expected of him to have a mistress, a concubine, to go and sow his wild oats just in case the one he has placed inside of you does not yield the crop expected--

But he doesn’t.

Naoya hates you out of his sight. He is always touching you; hands sliding over your hips, cupping where your bump has become soft and round and pronounced, snapping servants to attention if he thinks you look tired or wan or pale. You accompany him almost everywhere. He looks up from speaking to his father to seek you out, as if to reassure himself that you are still there – and some tension in his shoulders seems to drain away.

He is still Naoya, of course.

You are still swiftly reprimanded by him if you speak out of turn, he still gets servants to do anything for you so he doesn’t have to do it himself, you still walk three steps behind him with your head bowed unless he bids you to do something else – but as time goes on, and your hips widen and your stomach grows and you feel the baby kick, something in him softens.

And something else hardens.

His desire on your flesh, on your form, does not wane. You grow used to the feeling of tangled silken bedsheets below you, of Naoya’s handsome face above you, of the groan and the whine as he spills himself inside of you for the third time that night. And you would be lying if you said you didn’t like it.

That initial thrill, of being wanted by someone like Naoya, doesn’t fade at all, even though you too are now bowed to in the corridors and the people below you have to jump at your command. And Naoya is not cruel for no reason. Despite the arrogance in his tone, the condescension that drips off of his slow, drawling words, the particular way he has of raising one eyebrow and letting his gaze crawl over you – you have come to enjoy being his.

You did not want equality, after all. You knew your place.

You just wanted better – and Naoya has provided you that in spades.

He’s got his arms spread out over the pillows, his shoulders strong, his eyes hungry as he watches you strip off the kimono you have been wearing today. Your wardrobe now is the height of luxury; all beautiful embroidery, delicate colours, fabrics that cost more than your former monthly salary. Kimono are not made to cling to your body; though people can tell that you are pregnant, it does not over-emphasise your hips or the newly swollen, heavy breast, or the curve of your stomach. Those are things that Naoya never tires of seeing, as the fabric pools around your ankles and the hadajuban is discarded and so are your underwear, and you stand before him utterly bare and unmistakably carrying his child.

“Stay there,” he says, “let me look at you.”

You are a good, well-trained, obedient thing. You stand there as Naoya’s gaze roves over you, straying over and over again to where your hips have filled out even more, where your stomach is curved – where your breasts have begun to droop a little from how heavy and swollen with milk they are. He sighs as he looks you over, and it is the sigh of a man who is indeed very pleased with his work.

“You can move,” he says. He moves the covers off of him, and you are not surprised to see that he is bare; that his cock is already stirring, heavy and thick between his thighs. “Come.” He crooks a finger at you, and you are grateful to be able to move, to take the weight off your ankles as you’re permitted to sit on the bed beside him. His arms wrap around you – they are strong, and certain, and he holds you like you are his property.

Which you suppose you are. Your head lolls back onto his shoulder and he makes a soft huff of amusement, but doesn’t say anything about how brazen you are. You are permitted some special favours, now that you are Naoya’s, and now that you are fulfilling your purpose so beautifully.

Naoya’s lips brush your ear, his tongue lapping at the curve of your neck, the joint between throat and shoulder. You sigh prettily, the warmth of his mouth on you making you shiver. One of his hands curls around your breast, enjoying the heavy weight of you in his hand. Thumb and forefinger gently pinch your nipple.

He was rough with you the first time, but now he treats you like porcelain – and the idea that you are precious to Naoya Zenin sets your stomach aflame, makes your breath stick in your throat. He tugs at it softly, coaxing you to sigh, a drop of liquid leaking from the sensitive nub as you squirm backwards into his lap. His tone is lightly warning as he says;

“Come on, be good. It’s a good sign, sweetheart.”

He calls you sweetheart in front of other people and the ones who have bought this rags-to-riches Cinderella story exchange looks that say ‘isn’t she lucky?’. You hear the light edge in it, the smirk, the loftiness – but it always seems to break into something that’s almost fond, when he’s inside you and touching you and his teeth bite into your neck.

“Just that your body is doing what it’s supposed to do,” your other nipple is subjected to the same treatment, and you feel Naoya’s breath hitch, his cock stir behind you and dig into the small of your back. “I think the moment he’s in his nursery I’m going to fuck another son into you, dearest.”

“Mm?” You say, a little breathless as his hand goes lower. He sweeps his palm over the curve of your stomach, pausing where the skin is tight and swollen. His cock twitches once more at the reminder of how utterly his you are, and how wonderfully you are doing your purpose. How lucky he is, to have found someone submissive and well-trained and obedient and sweet, who looks so luscious full of him.

You drive him to distraction even when you don’t realise he’s looking at you.

“Thighs apart,” he grunts, into your ear, and you comply with the docile nature of someone raised to serve. He loves that about you. Loves, too, when he dips his fingers between your legs and your slick coats his digits, a soft whine catching in the back of your throat as he circles your clit and little shocks spark all through you, making you almost clamp your thighs back around his hand.

You do not, though. You are well-behaved. And you and Naoya have played this game enough times that you know that this is leading to relief for both of you.

One of his long fingers slides inside of you and you widen your thighs more, your soft whimper breaking and pitching – it’s such a servile, sweet little noise that Naoya cannot help but crook his finger, let it rub against the textured spot on your inner walls that has you clenching and gasping.

Since your pregnancy, you have become so sensitive. Naoya is the kind of man who hates working to pleasure a woman – who considers your orgasm a choice, and his a foregone conclusion. But with you swollen and full with his seed, he is slow and indulgent – and it is so easy, now that a brush of his palm makes you shiver and a tug of his teeth on your earlobe makes you gasp.

The finger is pulled out of you, and Naoya raises it to your lips, hooking his finger inside so you open your mouth and let him press your own slick onto your tongue.

Your tongue gently suckling at his finger reminds him of the insistent pounding of need inside of him; the stiff cock, leaking pre-come. He’d gotten so distracted touching you and enjoying you he’d almost forgotten about his own pleasure, and he sighs as he props himself up on pillows and reaches for you.

“Get comfortable,” he tells you.

His preference is to have you beneath him; that, he thinks, is his wife’s proper place. But it has begun to be difficult, with your stomach so distended – and he is nothing, he thinks to himself with more than a touch of smugness, if not an indulgent provider. A good husband.

(That’s what he thinks, anyway. You are not hurt. You get pretty things, and him in your bed, and the estate’s servants at your beck and call, an expensive wedding ring on your finger and the honour of his name affixed to yours, and his seed taking root inside of you. What else could you ask of him?)

So you are permitted to spread your knees, to climb on top of him – to gently sink your tight, wet, heat about his cock and seat yourself comfortably on the muscle of his thighs and the flat planes of his stomach.

“If you had my view,” he says, teasingly. “Mm, you were really made as breeding stock, weren’t you?” The words make heat rush to your face as he cups your hips in his hand again, squeezing the new covering of plush flesh that you’ve acquired since your pregnancy. “My wife.”

The words send a quiet thrill through you. You sigh as he bottoms out, as your body meets his entirely; your hands splaying on his shoulders. He is not flat against the bed – that position is too weak, not fitting for a man of his stature. But he is propped up with pillows behind him, so that he can admire how you look as your teeth bite into your plump bottom lip and you lift yourself just a little off his straining cock, before letting yourself fall back down.

He lets you set the pace. If you are to be permitted to ride him, he thinks, you may as well be the one doing all of the work. Part of him, too, is afraid of touching you too much – of hurting you, when you have something so precious inside of you. He would not admit that to himself – that’s not a thought process befitting of someone of his stature. But . . . it nibbles at the corners of his consciousness.

He cares about you. He does not want to hurt you. He does not want you to be uncomfortable – not when you are doing such a good job, when you are so lovely for him, when he is so grateful to have found you--

It’s no more than I deserve, he reminds himself.

And to brush back thoughts that are not proper for his elevation station in life, he lets himself watch the bounce of your breasts. Lets his fingers dig into the even softer, rounder thighs. Enjoys the sight of your mound bouncing on his cock, the feel of your slick walls clinging to his cock.

You are so beautiful, swollen with his child.

It is the first time he has ever looked at a woman and saw power in them. There is, he thinks, a power in what you have – in the glow about your skin, the brightness of your eyes, the curves and roundness and soft, supple flesh. The thought almost frightens him – but then, you push up again and your eyes meet his own for just a moment and he remembers that you are swollen with his child and have the power of him inside of you, and it becomes comforting.

Without him, you’d be nothing.

So he watches you with hungry eyes as you move your hips on his cock; as his length sinks inside of you, as you angle yourself just so – so that every stroke of your hips makes his cock rub against the place inside you that earlier had you seeing stars. Your breath is getting faster and faster, your fingers on his shoulders flexing as the tight string of your release is wound inexorably closer and closer.

Naoya allows himself a groan; a light thrust of his hips, in time with your own. The chase of your warm, tight walls as you try and pull away. He lets his gaze wander to how his cock is coated in your slick, all wet and shining in the light of the bedroom – and he is once more reassured. This is his. You are his. This wetness, this need – this is all for him. The way your body has changed is because of him.

His own release is creeping up on him.

Today, though, he decides he will be merciful – he reaches forward , curving his fingers just so, so that he can toy with your clit as you continue to fuck him. He rolls the bud with the pad of his fingers (soft; he wields just one weapon, and most people do not get to see it. Most of his harder work is done with his technique, and you have seen him apply expensive hand cream to keep himself handsome), knowing your body as well as he knows his own.

He prides himself on that, and you have spent enough nights in his bed that it is second nature to him. Women are predictable, he thinks, smirk on his face as your channel clenches around his hard cock and you come, whimpering out his name--

(In bed, he prefers Naoya-sama, and you are a good wife. Your tone is servile, soft, obedient – and in return, Naoya is almost sweet to you.)

He thrusts his hips roughly up into you, chasing his own release as your body spasms and trembles about him. You are still so tight; so hot and taut where the aftershocks are making you tremble. It’s the sight of your body, quivering under your release, that does it in the end.

Your hips and stomach and breasts and thighs, all rounded with the miracle of bearing life. All softened and plump; meek and pliant, a perfect little wife. His perfect little wife.

As he feels the tension inside of him snap, one of his hands winds about the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

Naoya’s grunt of pleasure is lost in the kiss, his mouth against yours hard and hungry. He is not willing to give up his dominance even here – but . . .

He has not kissed you so intimately before.

He has always avoided your mouth, preferring his lips on your chest or neck – turning your face away if it had seemed you might go for his mouth (later on, he had not bothered – he knows you well enough now to know that you would not dare.)

He tastes like wine. Like fancy, expensive sweets; the kind that you could have never afforded before you were his, but he has had at his disposal for his whole life. Like a cross between freedom and a prison--

He groans as he fills you up; his cock twitching, shooting out thick ropes of his come to land thick and heavy in your insides. Your whimper at the sensation is lost in his mouth, but Naoya fails to miss it – the fingers around the nape of your neck stroke through your hair, almost comforting, as he pulls back from you.

His lips are shiny, full and pretty. The grin that he gives you is crooked – and though you know it should not, though you know you should hate him for being arrogant and cruel and considering you lesser than him, the grin sends a rush of affection all through you.

If you were sentimental, you would say that the affection is mirrored in his own pale eyes.

(Naoya is glad you are not; you cannot see, beneath the triumph that you are claimed and carrying his heir and the hunger for your body and the pleasure that you are exactly the kind of wife that he wanted, that perhaps he does care about you.)

“My little wife,” he says, and he brushes his thumb over your cheek, hot with the rush of blood. “You’re so good for me.”

And you’ll carry on being so.

You’re so lovely when you’re expecting.

[rin-itoshi]

kisses . genshin impact (pt. 2)

> summary: places the genshin boys kiss you other than the lips (ft. bennett, chongyun, razor, xiao, xingqiu, zhongli)

> content: fluff , gn!reader , ooc(?idk)

here’s part one!

# BENNETT

where: your palm!

why: this man does not know how to stfu, so when you have to forcefully shush him, your palm is the best spot for his lips to kiss.

“It’s awfully quiet today,” you murmured as you turned on your heels, hearing the whirlwind of a boy coming your way. He nearly tumbled—so close to crashing at your feet but fortunately caught himself before he could hit the ground. He stood up straight, dusting his clothes with a breathy laugh before yelping out a pained, “Ow!”

“What happened?” You ask as you reach out to cup his face, checking his head and skin for any injuries.

The male chuckled with a closed eyed smile, “I got hit by a rock!” His voice echoed within the city, making you slightly cringe when your ears ached. He was quick to go off on a tangent, babbling about some nonsense that made you even more confused than before.

“Bennett,” you call out to grasp his attention. The moment he turned your way, you slapped a hand over his mouth with an amused smile. “I know you’re excited and want to talk, but we should move away from the Knights of Favonius headquarters before Captain Kaeya kills us.”

He kissed your palm gently, eliciting a ticklish sensation in your hand that made you pull away. Before you could do anything about his sneaky kisses, he grabbed your hand and began dragging you away, talking about some adventure team he was putting together.

# CHONGYUN

where: your shoulders!

why: he likes the smoothness of your shoulder when he lays down behind you and can rest easily without being judged.

The bedroom door creaked open to reveal the blue haired male who stood in the doorway with a pensive look on his face. Upon seeing you lying in your shared bed, he exhaled deeply and you could practically see relief wash over is features. “[y/n],” he breathed out as he shuffled into the room, scurrying over the bed to climb onto the silk sheets and lay himself in the spot behind you.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your body into his chest as gently as possible. As hesitant as he was, he was way too tired to be reluctant about holding you even thought you clearly felt the same need for touch as him. “’m so tired.”

After a long day of training, he was exhausted and was in desperate need of your touch in order to replenish the energy he had depleted earlier that day. It was only much better now that you were both living together and were able to cuddle as much as needed after work.

“Welcome home, my love.”

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, doing his absolute best to push away the strong emotions that burned inside of his heart. He refused to flare-up in front of you ever again, but with you unknowingly doing things to stir him up, he was always struggling to keep calm.

Peppering kisses along your shoulders, you felt a shiver run down your spine at the cold sensation of his lips on your skin. It was a blissful feeling, warming up your heart with love despite how cold his body truly was. Too beautiful.

# RAZOR

where: your eyelids!

why: this one may sound weird but he just gets curious when he keeps watch and tends to do it without a thought.

Razor stood tall at the peak of the mountain that you both temporarily resided on. His chin was held high, chest puffed out with a sense of responsibility flowing through his veins at the thought of watching over you while you slept to keep you out of harms way. It wasn’t necessarily a demanding duty but for you, it meant a thousand times more than it usually would have.

The boy approached your sleeping body. You were rested on the ground under his jacket that barely shielded you from the cold weather tonight presented to you both. He gently tugged his jacket further up your body, covering your arm that had been slightly exposed.

You were cute like this, sleeping so peacefully with so much trust in the guy who could barely communicate yet you loved him so much. It was amazing.

Subconsciously, he bent down and placed a chaste kiss on your eyelid. You stirred in your sleep, forcing him to jolt away in surprise before settling when you murmured something sleepily, smiled and then relaxed. Your behavior was new to him and yet, it brought so many different feelings into his heart. Unknowing to you, he smiled genuinely and patted your head gently.

“You rest. I keep watch.”

# XIAO

where: your forehead!

why: he just thinks it is less embarrassing than trying to kiss you on the lips openly + less chances of him getting denied the kiss.

His expression was rather dark as you stood in front of one another. It looked like he was thinking deeply about something but you brushed it off, assuming it was just his way of sulking since you two were about to split for the night.

“I packed you some Almond Tofu, so you can eat some on your way back. I also got you a jacket to wear since it might be a little cold in the evening. I know you don’t sleep and stuff, so I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Your rambling about his well-being wasn’t new to him, which is why he didn’t interrupt you. He watched with the same dark expression that seemed scary but if you looked closely, you would see just how soft those eyes had become after spending so much time with a “mere human” like you.

Grasping you by the back of you head, he pulled you forward and leaned in briskly, kissing your forehead softly before pulling away and turning around. You barely had a second to recover as he adjusted his mask on his face and disappeared from your sight, muttering nothing but a simple, “be careful.”

You smiled at the tingling sensation on you skin, knowing he had only escaped to avoid feeling any type of emotion after kissing you so brazenly. As mean as Xiao seemed, he really was a simpleton with you.

# XINGQIU

where: the back of your hand!

why: do i have to explain?

“Xingqiu, where are we going?” You asked with a tired smile on your lips as you allowed yourself to be dragged along this upward slope with no set destination in mind. The boy simply laughed, pulling you faster until you were nearly tripping over your own feet. By the time you had planned to complain once more, he came to an abrupt stop and you almost bumped into his body if it wasn’t for your quick senses. “Where are we?”

“Take a look, my liege. Quite fascinating, is it not?” He said as he took a seat on the branch perched on the top of the hill, big enough for the two of them to sit on. You plopped beside him, admiring the sun that was beginning to set while Xingqiu opened a book to the page he had left off on.

“My life seems fulfilled when I am sat here with a book in my hands and you by my side. Don’t you agree?” HIs words were sincere, surprisingly void of that mischievous tone he usually had these days.

“I’m not particularly fond of books like you, but I am extremely fond of you. So, yes, I do agree.” You said with a cheesy smile, leaning in his direction. The boy abruptly stood up, and you rose an eyebrow in confusion.

Bending his body slightly, he held out his hand to you until you placed yours on top of his. Once you did so, he pressed his lips to the back of your hand and flashed you an easy smile. “With this, I owe my life to you, my liege. A vow much greater than marriage.”

# ZHONGLI

where: your lips!

why: I legit couldn’t think of a non-lips spot so i gave up. mans just likes the way your lips taste like his favorite wine. two good things.

He admired his cup with bright eyes, absolute taken with the way it tasted on his tongue and hadn’t changed in all these years. It was a beautiful emotion that was a mixture of happiness and nostalgia, plus a bit of romance considering he was here with the one he loved.

“What do you think?” Zhongli asked, eyes full of curiosity as he turned in your direction. You hadn’t said anything all night and he assumed you weren’t enjoying the wine he had presented to you so happily.

On contrary, it was way too good to be wasted, so you chose to drink it slowly in order to savor the beautiful taste that somehow reminded you of Zhongli himself. Maybe it was because he talked about this wine too much.

“It tastes good,” you murmur, leaning into his side to gain a bit of warmth from the male who shared the emotion, leaning into your touch.

You glanced up at him, smiling softly when you already saw his eyes on you. “Stop staring so impolitely. Where are your manners?” You asked jokingly, giggling softly when Zhongli looked down and chuckled.

Leaning in, he cupped your cheek and smashed your lips together. He could taste the Osmanthus wine on you and it nearly made him melt into the kiss that he had long suppressed.

When he pulled away, a small smile settled into his lips, satisfaction in his eyes. “Osmanthus wine tastes the same as I remember.”

a/n: finally, I finished it. im going to bed now uhhdhfjf (idk if i’ll ever do other characters but we’ll see)

[5-seconds-of-bucky]

Kisses

A/N: Okay, so let’s pretend that Bucky didn’t blip 😉 That is the job I am trusting you with as you read this, dear reader (especially during a certain part, but you’ll get there when you get there) Also, please ignore my lack of original concepts, as I am well aware that I used this similar concept for a Shawn fic a while back (I promise this version is quite different and much better written) Anyways, happy reading! :)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem Avenger!Reader

Summary: Different types of kisses throughout you and Bucky’s relationship

Word Count: 4.3k+  (oof, much longer than I intended. Sorry, friends!)

Warnings: Swearing, reader gets stabbed, mentions of blood, mentions of pregnancy, (brief) mention of death (nobody actually dies)

---

The First Kiss

It was quiet as the two of you walked down the hallway, save for the occasional sounds of Bucky’s boots scuffing on the linoleum. Whether it was because you didn’t want to wake up anyone else in the compound this late at night or because there was nothing left to say, you weren’t sure.

After months of longing looks and nervous conversations (and a bit of pushing from Steve), Bucky finally found the courage to ask you out on a date. He made it a whole ordeal, even bringing flowers when he asked if you wanted to grab some sandwiches from a nearby deli and eat them at the park. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t been waiting to hear those words for a while now and told him you’d be happy to. Your shy smile made Bucky’s insides melt and he found himself mirroring one back at you.

Now, your third date--a midnight hike through a trail you suggested--was coming to an end.

“Can I walk you back to your room?” Bucky broke the silence, chewing his lip nervously as he awaited your answer.

“Your room is right across the hall from mine. Aren’t you going that way anyways?” you giggled.

“Let me be a gentleman,” he insisted as you rounded the corner of the hallway that led to your rooms.

“I mean, how can I say no to that?”

“I don’t think you can.” His signature smirk and charm had you melting and you stared at the floor in hopes that he wouldn’t see the obvious ways he affected you.

The two of you arrived at your door almost too soon, and you found yourself wishing that your night together wasn’t over quite yet.

“I had a great time with you, Bucky.” You turned to fully face him, looking up shyly into his eyes.

He took one of your hands with his, bringing it up to his lips. “I did too, Y/N. We should do it again.”

“The date or getting eaten alive by mosquitoes?”

“The mosquitos were endearing but I was more so thinking of another date.”

“I’d like that.” You squeezed his hand before letting go, pushing your door open and taking a step forwards before Bucky’s hand grabbed your wrist. He gently spun you back towards him, his charm suddenly replaced by a more timid look.

“Um, can I . . . would you let me . . .” he glanced down to your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

You didn’t respond, simply placing your free hand on his cheek and leaning towards him. His hands both went to wrap around your waist as your lips brushed and your other hand came to rest on his chest. The kiss was slow and soft. There was no need to rush as you stood there in the hallway at 1:45 in the morning, wrapped around each other like you couldn’t let go.

You finally broke away, feeling Bucky’s chest steadily rise beneath your palm as you calmed your own breathing. You tried to play it cool on the outside, though you were screaming with glee internally.

“Goodnight, Bucky.” You slowly slipped out of his grasp, a twinkle in your eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

The Welcome Home Kiss

Your eyelids seemed to droop more by the second as you tried to keep yourself awake. The caffeine you had earlier could only do so much to curb the sleepiness that was settling in your bones. The fact that you were sitting in your bed at the moment probably wasn’t helping, but you were too tired to move.

Waiting up for Bucky seemed like a good idea until it was 2:30 in the morning and he still wasn’t back. He would probably scold you when he got back, saying how sleep deprivation didn’t look good on you, but you didn’t care. You hadn’t seen your boyfriend in a week and you missed him. If you had to pull an all-nighter to do so, so be it.

The sound of footsteps outside your door pulled you from your thoughts. It only took a second to recognize the familiar clunking of Bucky’s combat boots, causing you to perk up as you waited for him to peek into your room.

The footsteps paused outside your door for a moment and you held your breath in anticipation. The door didn’t open though, and the footsteps became fainter, presumably walking away from your room.

Does he think I’m asleep? You frowned. Usually, he at least opened the door to check in on you.

You pulled the blanket off your body, getting out of bed and padding out of your room towards Bucky’s. You did your best to stay quiet as you twisted the door knob in case he was already asleep. It wasn’t uncommon for him to pass out as soon as his head met the pillow after a mission. Lord knows he needed the rest.

You were met with an empty room when you peeked your head in. You almost left, assuming that your excited mind had been playing tricks on you, when you caught sight of light peeking out from beneath the bathroom door. A smile crept its way onto your face and you closed the door behind you, sitting on the edge of his bed and waiting for him to come out.

A few more minutes passed and you debated just letting yourself fall asleep there when the bathroom door swung open. Bucky stepped out, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt that you had tried to steal on multiple occasions. He didn’t notice you until he was almost to his bed and lifted his gaze from the floor, jumping back with a “shit!” when he saw you.

“What are you doing up, doll?” he asked once he regained his composure.

“Waiting for you,” you replied simply, pulling him into a hug as soon as he sat down next to you. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

You pulled back just enough to press your lips against his, relishing the languid movements of his lips against yours at the absurd hour of the morning. His arms traveled down to your hips as yours moved to wrap around his neck.

“Welcome home, sergeant.”

The Fevered Forehead Kiss

You were burning up.

The sweat drenched shirt you were wearing was sticking to your body and the fact that Bucky, AKA: the walking furnace, was laying next to you, wasn’t helping in the slightest. His arm was slung over your back, which made your situation that much worse. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully: a rarity with him. Moving out of bed was sure to wake him up but you really needed to change your shirt.

You sighed, deciding that you needed to get into some dryer clothes if you had any hopes of falling back asleep before the sun rose. Prying yourself from Bucky’s grip as carefully as possible, you swung your feet over the edge of the bed and stood up. A wave of dizziness overcame you, forcing you to brace yourself against the wall. A quiet groan escaped your lips when the dizziness started getting worse rather than fading away. Your vision started to tunnel: a surefire sign that you were going to pass out.

A pair of arms wrapped around you and Bucky’s face came into view. He gently eased you back onto the bed, supporting your back as he layed you back down. You felt a hand brush over your cheek as the dizziness faded and your senses returned.

Bucky frowned at how warm your cheek felt beneath his touch. You were feeling a little warm when he carried you to bed after a group game night--of which you had fallen asleep halfway through--but he didn’t think much of it then. He smoothed some hair back from your forehead and rested his lips there to better judge your temperature.

“Shit, doll. You’re burning up,” he murmured.

“It’s really hot in here.” Sleep was clawing at you but you were uncomfortable beyond belief. “I need to change my shirt.”

Bucky silently helped you out of the shirt you were wearing, throwing it in the hamper before shuffling over to the dresser to get you another one. He grabbed the first one he saw, making his way back over to where you were laying and helping you into it.

“Get some sleep, sweetheart,” he said as he pressed his lips to your forehead once more. “I’ll be right here.”

The “Shut Up!” Kiss

The Quinjet was filled with chatter as the team headed back to the compound after a successful mission. You managed to get the intel you needed and nobody got hurt in the process--well, nobody except you, but no one needed to know that.

You managed to get yourself stabbed in the right bicep when you were making your way back to the jet. It wasn’t horribly severe, it just hurt like a bitch. You were quick to take care of the Hydra agent and keep moving, knowing the team was going to want to get back to the compound as quickly as possible to celebrate. Missions without some kind of injury were a rarity with you guys.

You just assumed that you’d wait until you got to the compound and stitch yourself up there without anyone knowing. Seemed easy enough of a plan, right?

“Hey, doll,” Bucky said as he sat down in the seat to your left with a kiss to your cheek.

“Hey, babe.” You leaned your head on his shoulder, snuggling into the warmth radiating off of him.

“I’m so ready to get in bed.”

“You said it.”

You were able to block out the pain coming from your arm for a moment, allowing yourself to relax in your boyfriend’s presence instead. That was, until Bucky’s arm came up to wrap around your shoulders. You winced when his hand brushed over your wound, cursing internally when you felt him stiffen up next to you. Of course he was going to find out.  

He pulled his hand back, seeing it covered in red. “Is that blood?”

“Yes but that doesn’t matter right now. You know what does matter? Getting to bed cause you look-” You sat up, rubbing your hand over the wound yourself, finding that there was significantly more blood there now than there was earlier.

“You are literally bleeding right now!” He raised his voice slightly and you glared at him, not wanting to draw attention to the situation.

“I know but-”

“I love you but if you shut the fuck up right now, Y/N-”

“Buck-”

Bucky grabbed your face, quickly bringing your lips to his. “You are going to stop talking and let me take care of this, okay? No ifs, ands, or buts. I don’t wanna hear ‘em.” His voice was stern but you could see the concern in his eyes.

“Okay,” you sighed, dropping your eyes to your lap.

“Now let me see your arm so we can fix you up.”

The Top of the Head Kiss

“You don’t think it’s too soon, do you?” Bucky asked Steve as they sat in the kitchen. It was early on a Thursday morning, when everyone else was either asleep or doing an early morning workout. The two super soldiers had already finished their daily morning run and decided to enjoy a cup of coffee in the kitchen before the rest of the team showed up.

“Buck, I thought you were going to propose after the fifth date. You’ve been together for almost two years. I think it’s about time,” Steve answered with a chuckle, enjoying the bashful look on his best friend’s face.

“I just wanna do it right, you know?” Bucky bit the inside of his cheek as he contemplated the right way to propose for what was probably the thousandth time. “I know she doesn’t want something that’s so romantic it’s cheesy but I want it to be special.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Steve patted Bucky’s arm as he got up to put his mug in the sink. “You know she’s going to say ‘yes’ no matter what.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just scary trying to-”

“Morning boys.” Your groggy voice rang through the kitchen, causing Steve and Bucky to immediately shut up.

“You’re up early, sweetheart,” Bucky commented as you made your way over to him.

“Thought I’d be productive today.” You ran a hand through his hair, still unruly from his run, before placing your lips on top of his head. “Whatcha’ guys talking about?”

Steve and Bucky shared a panicked look. “Uhh . . . super secret boy band stuff.” Bucky’s hands made their way to your hips, fingers messing with the hem of your shirt.

“Ohh, okay. Let me just grab my breakfast and then I’ll let you plan your little boyband stuff.” You ruffled Bucky’s hair and busied yourself with making a bagel, winking at him before leaving the kitchen.

“You better hurry up,” Steve chuckled. “Cause she’s gonna figure out what you’re doing soon if you don’t.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky grumbled. “I’m working on it.”

The Passionate Kiss

“I’m so hungry!” you complained as you took your suit off, having just returned from a mission. You weren’t able to eat lunch earlier and your stomach was making sure you knew just how much it did not appreciate that.

“We stocked up the fridge yesterday so you should be good to go,” Bucky said from his place on the edge of the bed. His eyes stayed glued on you as you slipped on a pair of shorts and one of his Henleys.

You smiled brightly at his words and made your way over to him, giving a quick peck to his temple and grabbing his hand. “Care to join me?”

“Course, doll.” He stood up and followed you out of your shared room, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his side as you walked to the kitchen. Everything was going according to plan.

The mission you just came back from? It was fake. You didn’t know that of course, but Bucky had Steve and Tony help him set it up so he could get ready for what he was planning on doing tonight without you either finding out or getting overly suspicious. What was he planning on doing, exactly? Proposing. He was finally going to propose tonight.

You and Steve were sent out on an undercover “mission” in which you had to pretend to be a couple in order to attend a ball and gather intel on a possible new Hydra branch. Bucky wasn’t quite sure how Tony managed to set the whole thing up, but he decided not to bother himself with the logistics. There were more important issues at hand.

He patted his pocket as you parted from his side to grab plates. Yup, the ring was still there.

“Why don’t I get the plates and you grab what you want from the fridge, sweetheart?” he suggested.

“Oh no, I got the plates. You grab whatever you think is good. I’ll eat whatever.” You took two plates out of the cabinet and made your way to the table, your back to the fridge.

This is going to be harder than he anticipated.

In his debate to decide the perfect way to propose to you, Bucky somehow came to the conclusion that the best way to ask you to be his future wife was by spelling out “Will you marry me?” on the refrigerator with a bunch of magnets. A picture of the two of you from when you first started dating was placed next to it with a heart magnet, and Bucky was pretty proud of himself for the idea. He forgot, of course, that you could be a little oblivious sometimes when it came to noticing things.

No need to stress about it. She’ll notice eventually.

Bucky grabbed some things from the fridge, microwaving a few before bringing them over to the table and sitting down in the seat next to yours. “Bon appetit!”

“¡Muchas gracias, señor!” You smiled, already dumping a few things onto your plate and digging in.

“That was a completely different language,” he chuckled.

“And?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Tell me ‘bout the mission.”

“It was alright,” you said through a mouthful of food. You swallowed before continuing. “I don’t know why they sent Steve with me instead of you. You’d think that since we had to pretend to be a married couple, they’d have me go with my boyfriend.” Damn, Tony really didn’t try to be that subtle, did he?

“Yeah, strange . . .”

“Anyways, it was pretty easy. I didn’t even have to go to a debriefing!” You put some more food on your plate, noticing that Bucky had barely touched his. “You okay? You’ve hardly eaten.” You motioned towards his plate.

“Hmm? Oh, I ate before you got home so I’m not that hungry.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. He ate, just not a lot to be considered a meal. Nerves.

“Uh huh.” You gave him a weird look as you took a bite of food. “You’re up to something.”

“Me? Up to something? Never.” He watched you finish your food and sit back with a satisfied groan.

“Okay, sure.” You gave him a playful glare as he took your plates and got up to put them in the sink. You grabbed the leftover food and containers, and put them in the sink, nudging Bucky’s hip with yours.

“You trying to start something, doll?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Maybe I am.” You looked back at him, completely missing the colorful magnets on the fridge yet again as you opened it and put the food back inside. Your hand caught the ‘W’ when you tried to take your hand off of the refrigerator handle, causing it to fall off and clink on the ground.

“Ill you marry me?” you read off the fridge, a confused laugh escaping your mouth. “What?”

Bucky playfully shook his head. He walked over to you, picking up the fallen magnet and putting it back in its place. He leaned against the fridge as he watched you read the phrase again.

“Buck, are you being serious?” Your eyes lit up, though there was a hint of hesitance in your voice.

“I don’t know, you tell me.” He pulled the black velvet case out of his pocket, getting down to one knee.

Your hand slapped over your mouth, trying to contain the squeal of joy threatening to jump out. “Bucky!”

He flipped the lid open. “Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?”

You bit your lips together, nodding your head vigorously. “Yeah. I think I’ll marry you, Bucky Barnes.”

Bucky stood up and you grabbed his face, crashing your lips onto his. It was messy but perfect for the moment. Your heart was beating a million times a minute but you paid it no mind as you tried to pull Bucky even closer.

“I love you,” you said once you pulled away for breath. Your eyes watered as you tried to keep tears from falling.

He leaned back in to slot his lips between yours again. “I love you too.”

The Relieved Kiss

Bucky wasn’t sure what exactly to expect when he rushed out with the team to find Captain Marvel lowering down a giant ship in front of the compound, but nothing could have prepared him for what he was about to see.

He’d been a mess since Thanos snapped away half the universe. Unbeknownst to him, you were up in space when the battle happened, leaving him to assume that you had dusted away with the millions of others and left him behind to pick himself up.

While Bucky suffered in his own personal hell down on Earth, you were stranded in a broken spaceship with Tony and Nebula. Up until your rescue, you were sure that you were going to die up there, staring into the void of space. You recorded a message for Bucky after Tony recorded his for Pepper in hopes that it would someday make it back to him. Then Captain Marvel came to save you and bring you back to Earth; to bring you back home.

Bucky ran up with Steve to help Tony, supporting the man who looked like he’d been to hell and back a few times. He stepped aside once Pepper ran up, choking on his own breath when he looked back to the steps of the ship.

You held onto Nebula’s arm as you slowly stumbled down the stairs. Bucky let out a sob at the sight of you, immediately rushing up to help you. You felt so fragile in his arms and it took everything in him to not collapse to the ground in shock, not sure if it was relief that you were alive or horror at your condition

He held you to his chest as tightly as he could once you made it to solid ground, his vibranium arm holding you up by your waist while his flesh hand held your head to his chest.

“Oh my god,” was all he could say as he stood there, body shaking as he cried

“Hey, I’m okay.” Your hand shook as it came up to weakly pat his shoulder. He could tell you were completely out of it: eyes distant and mind barely there. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone approaching, ready to help get you to med bay.

He pressed his lips to the crown of your head, gently rocking you back and forth in his arms. “You’re alive.”

You tried to pull back in his grip, forcing him to loosen it slightly. “I love you.” You leaned up to kiss his lips, though it ended up being more of a brush of your lips than an actual kiss.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He kissed your hairline, scared that kissing your lips would steal more oxygen away--something you desperately needed more of in your system right now. “You’re gonna be okay.”

The “Holy Shit!” Kiss

You weren’t sure how much longer you could keep it a secret. You were sure he would’ve figured it out by now: the sticks in the trash, the sudden avoidance of certain foods you would usually never pass up, the second heartbeat that now accompanied your own.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want him to know--you had actually been trying for a baby for a while now--you just weren’t sure how to tell him. Is this how he felt before proposing?

The opening of your bedroom door interrupted your thoughts. You were met with the sight of your husband shrugging off his jacket when you turned around. He cut his hair recently. Something about it being “too hot for this shit.”

“Why are you wearing a jacket? It’s June,” you giggled.

“The air conditioning is fucking blasting and I got cold while I was doing my paper work, if you must know,” he said, laying the jacket on the chair you were standing next to. He left a quick kiss on your lips, leaving you craving for more.

“You’re crazy.”

“I’m crazy? I think you have the wrong guy here, doll.”

“No, I don’t think I do.” Your hand caught his, tangling your fingers together. Should I just tell him now?

“You keep thinking that. Steve asked me to help train some agents here in a few minutes so I gotta go now.” Another quick kiss and a wink and he started making his way out the door.

“Wait, Buck!” He turned around, almost out the door. “I need to tell you something real quick.” You motioned for him to come back over.

He took a few steps forward, a confused look on his face as you grabbed both his hands in yours. He could hear your heart rate picking up, which only served to worry him.

“So, I was wondering if you would be free to go to the hospital about eight months from now?” You gave a small smile, hoping he’d catch on quickly. “I’m not sure what the exact date is going to be quite yet but I’d really appreciate it if you could be there.”

Bucky frowned. What business did you have at the hospital that you scheduled nine months ahead of time? “Babe, what are you talking about?”

“I think we’re going to need to find our own place too. We’ll need a lot more space.” He still wasn’t catching on. “I doubt having three people in here would be super pleasant.”

He frowned even more and you simply giggled, bringing his hands to your stomach. “I’m pregnant, Buck.”

“Ohh!” He let out a sigh of relief, glad that that was all you were worried about. “Had me worried for a second there, doll.”

It was your turn to frown. “What?”

“From the way you started, I was worried you were dying and this was some sadistic way of telling me.”

“Nope. Quite the opposite, actually.”

“Was wondering when you were going to tell me.” His thumbs rubbed circles into your belly.

“You knew?!”

“I heard the heartbeat weeks ago. Took me a while to figure out what it was but I figured you’d tell me when you were ready.”  

“Damn your supersoldier hearing.” You leaned your head on top of his shoulder, letting out a small groan.

“Holy shit though,” His voice was soft as he rested his chin on your head. “we’re having a baby!”

“Yeah,” You lifted your head up slowly to see the biggest grin on your husband’s face. “we’re having a baby.”

A hand came up to cup your cheeks as he leaned into your lips, kissing you deeply and trying not to cry. “Holy shit!”

---

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[sluttyten]

Fresh Air

Poly Series Chapter Index

summary: the first few months of life with your boyfriends and your newborn daughter bring numerous hardships that none of you were truly prepared for

length: 27.8k

tags/warnings: handjobs, dry humping, fingering, breastfeeding kink, slight daddy kink, cum sharing, smut, polyamory, multiple partners, the usual tags, angst?, some sadness

Having a baby is no easy thing. You knew that. You also knew that being in such a large polyamorous relationship wasn’t an easy thing. Already you’d lost two boyfriends; Lucas was long gone, happy in his own little world with Chaerin, and Ten was gone too, slowly slipping away.

It took the others a few days to realize that Ten was gone from the relationship. You didn’t have the same emotional breakdown as you did when Lucas ended things, so it wasn’t until you went around kissing each of them goodnight halfway through movie night, skipping over Ten, that Taeyong sat up curiously. 

“Excuse me!” He calls as you start to climb the stairs. “What just happened?”

Ten is slouched down between Taeyong and Kun, and he scowls at Taeyong, twisting his hand in the back of his shirt and tugging him back into Ten’s side. Ten mumbles, “We broke up.” 

“What?” Taeyong looks sharply between you and Ten. “When?”

The other eyes in the room slide toward this conversation. 

Ten flicks his gaze toward you, then he switches on his mischievous flirty grin, snuggling up against Taeyong. “When I realized you’re the only one for me, hyung!” 

Taeyong shoves him away with a groan.

WinWin comes down the stairs then, looking sleepy, sporting a little spit-up stain on his shoulder. He looks past you to where Taeyong and Ten are wrestling with each other, nearly falling into Kun’s lap as he groans and tries to keep them away. WinWin’s hand slides over your shoulder, squeezing reassuringly as he asks, “Hey, what’s going on?” 

He just got off from Daddy-duty, which mostly meant giving Mei a bottle and then napping with her. Ever since learning that he was her biological father, he’d been trying to help you out even more—offering to change her, to give her baths, to feed her (even though she was mostly breastfeeding, you were supplementing a little with bottles and formula).

“Me and Ten broke up,” you tell him, plucking at the front of his shirt. “You might want to wash this. Mei spit up on you.”

“Hold on. Are we just skipping over that? What do you mean you and Ten broke up?” WinWin frowns, his lips drooping into a pout.

You look back at everyone else, and a few of them are craning their necks to be able to see you. So you sigh, and you explain the breakup. Ten nods along with you, occasionally adding his own little input.

“I told you all that first day when we learned I was pregnant, if any of you want to leave or feel like you can’t deal with helping raise a baby, I understand. None of you signed up for a baby when we started this relationship.” You glance around the room, your gaze touching Lucas who has his head ducked as he picks at some loose skin around his nail. “Only WinWin’s definitely stuck with me now.”

There’s grumbles and eye-rolling around the room. WinWin touches the small of your back, just a tender touch to reassure you that he’s here, not going anywhere.

“Like I said, I understand when any of you want to leave. I don’t want any of you to be unhappy here.” You turn away and start up toward your bedroom. “Goodnight!”

But the others can’t let it go. It was one thing when just Lucas had left the relationship, but now Ten too? That second loss felt like the start of instability in the relationship, a crack in the formerly solid foundation. You tried hard not to think of it that way, but that was hard especially when a few days later you’re in bed with Kun.

Mei is asleep on the bed between you both.

It was just you and her for a long while, you were reading a novel to pass the time, and because you knew it was important for her to hear speech and intonation (even though at only almost two weeks old, speech was still a while away for her) you were reading aloud to her.

Kun had come inside, and when you paused in your reading he’d smiled and shaken his head. “Keep going. You have a lovely voice.”

So you’d read until Mei was asleep again, until your throat was dry. Kun was alternating between looking at you, looking at Mei, or looking at the backs of his eyelids. But when you sit aside the book and turn onto your side facing him and your daughter, Kun’s eyes open so he can see you.

“How are you?” He asks softly, reaching out to brush a finger at the thin skin under your eyes. “How are you holding up?”

You clasp his hand, pulling it down to your lips so you can kiss his palm. “You mean in general, or like postpartum? Or the breakup with Ten?”

Kun swallows, his eyes searching yours. “All of the above, I guess.” He looks down to your lips as you kiss his hand again. “I mean, you haven’t left the house since you came home from the hospital. That’s got to be taking a toll. And I’ve done some reading online, I know about postpartum depression and stuff. Then on top of the chances of that, there could be a hit of regular depression because of the breakup. I’m just worried, concerned.”

“I’m fine, Kun. Really.”

And you believe that you are. You feel good. Even with the breakup. Ten’s still here; he’s just more like your best friend now than anything else when he comes into your room to make sure you’re getting something to eat, to coo at Mei, or to kidnap Miso from where he’s curled up beneath Mei’s crib.

“Can I ask you something else?” Kun turns onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. “If I still hook up with Ten, are you going to be mad? Does it count as cheating on you?”

You laugh. “No. It’s fine. You, Taeyong, Johnny, any of you can keep doing whatever you’ve been doing with Ten. I encourage it. I’m pretty sure one of you is actually the reason he broke up with me, unless you know of someone else that he’s had his eye on?”

Kun shakes his head. “No, just us.”

“I don’t mind sharing with Ten. I still love him. I want him to be happy.” You stroke a gentle finger down Mei’s arm. “I want you to be happy, so if you want to choose Ten, then I wouldn’t blame you for br—“

Kun moves so quickly to shut down what you’re saying that he jostles the bed and that wakes Mei.

“Shit.” Kun immediately starts trying to comfort her, cradling her gently in his arms, speaking to her in soft, soothing tones. And as Mei starts to settle, he looks sharply back up at you. “Don’t say something like that, about me breaking up with you.” His face twists with annoyance. “I’m not going anywhere. I love you.”

“That’s what you all say. Lucas loved me. Ten loved me. They both left.”

“I do fucking love you.” Kun tells you, his voice assertive and hushed as he looks down at Mei again. “If I had Mark’s balls I’d have proposed to you by now too. I’m sure half of us would have as well. I’m not planning on going anywhere anytime soon, my love. So stop trying to get rid of me.”

You’re not trying to get rid of any of them, but over the next few weeks it becomes clear that all of this—maintaining this relationship—is going to be a lot harder while you’re recovering from birth and while you’re trying to focus on Mei, feeding her and sleeping when you can.

Even with your boyfriends trying to help, it’s not easy.

Jaehyun, WinWin, Kun. They’re always up to help you with anything and everything. Doyoung and Yuta are a little squeamish still of diapers. Taeil, Johnny, Taeyong, Jungwoo, Xiaojun, Mark, and Hendery try, but some of them still seem scared to touch her, to spend time alone with a newborn who is so utterly fragile. And for some of them it seems that they’re just desperately ready for you to be recovered, ready to have sex again.

“It takes some time,” you explain to Johnny one evening when he approaches you. “I’m sorry, I know you’re horny.”

You’re not ready to have sex again, so the most you can offer any of them are handjobs, maybe a blowjob. 

You’re standing in the kitchen, just cleaning up a few dishes. Taeyong and Doyoung are upstairs watching Mei, so it doesn’t seem like such a bad idea when you offer to Johnny, “Do you want me to give you a hand?”

So moments later, you’re sitting on the edge of the counter, Johnny between your knees. You’re kissing him with one hand in his hair, the other down the front of his pants, softly kissing away his moans, giving him a few of your own to edge him closer. 

“Shit, I want to be inside you,” Johnny groans, fucking forward into your grip. 

“Just a few more weeks.” You kiss the corner of his mouth, then sit back. You twist your fingers tight in his hair, tugging lightly. Johnny’s eyes fall shut, a moan slipping free of his lips. “Then we can--”

Distantly, you hear the sound of Mei crying; her howling cries that she seems too tiny to be able to make. Your head jerks toward the doorway of the kitchen. You can see the stairs from here.

Johnny sighs, and his forehead touches against the side of yours. 

“I’m close. Please, babe.” He bucks forward through the ring of your fingers, grinding closer, trying to get himself over the edge. “Just finish me off, then go.”

She howls again, and you wonder what Doyoung and Taeyong are doing up there. Johnny pants desperately, so you turn your attention back to him, dragging his mouth back into a kiss, tugging on his hair, jerking him off just the way you know gets him off quickest.

He cums with a grunt, coating your hand in his load, and as soon as he’s finished, you pull your hand out of his pants, rinse it off in the sink, and then you hurry from the room, up the stairs after the sound of your daughter’s cries.

By the time you reach the room, you can see she’s red-faced, crying while Doyoung tries changing her diaper, and Taeyong’s desperately trying to calm her. 

“Did you pinch her or something?” You ask, wiping your hands on your pants, wrapping them briefly in your shirt to make sure they’re dry. Taeyong looks up at you with panic in his eyes. 

“She just woke up and started screaming,” he says. “Is she hungry? She’s not really all that messy.” Taeyong gestures at her diaper. 

Doyoung’s doing just fine, wiping her clean, changing her while holding his breath. Once he’s got the diaper safely fastened, he wipes his hands clean with a wet wipe, then lifts her up in his arms to rock her. He looks up at you then. “We were doing just fine before that.”

Slowly her cries quiet down, the bright color of frustration draining from her face until she’s back to normal, her little fists gathered around Doyoung’s pinkie finger and his thumb. Her dark eyes are still open wide, gazing up at his face. 

You sit down on your bed, and Taeyong sits with you.

“I feel kinda bad,” you tell him. “I left Johnny down there, but her crying had me worried. I hate that I can’t give you guys the time and attention you deserve.”

Taeyong smiles softly, stroking the back of your head. “She needs you more than we do. And I’m sure Ten would be more than happier to help out. Kun said that you told him it’s okay. Right?” You nod. Taeyong nods too, then lets out a breath before saying, “That’s a relief, honestly. Because I didn’t want to feel guilty about still sleeping with him.”

“It’s fine, Taeyong. What you have with him predates what you have with me anyway.” You squeeze his thigh reassuring. You truly don’t mind sharing any of them with Ten. “I don’t want to be the one to mess with that.”

Taeyong grins and kisses your cheek. “Thanks. Well, now you’re back, and you and Doyoung probably have this handled, I’m heading to the studio.” He stands and stretches his arms over his head, the hem of his shirt lifting up just enough that you can see the red mark of a hickey on his hipbone. “I’m almost finished up with all this recording,” Taeyong says excitedly.

And when he’s gone from the room, you flop back into your bed, staring up at your ceiling. 

Doyoung comes over to the side of the bed a moment later, and when you turn your attention to him, he’s holding Mei to his chest, but he’s only looking at you. He asks, “Can I join you?”

You nod.

The mattress shakes as Doyoung does his best to settle down carefully into the bed beside you. Mei goes comfortably onto her tummy on Doyoung’s chest, her little fist up at her mouth, thumb between her lips. You scoot closer, your face close in front of hers, and you sigh.

Doyoung rests a hand on her back.

“You okay?” He asks. “Feeling good still?”

Just a few days before, an ever-concerned Doyoung had approached you and begun asking you what felt like very pointed questions that you eventually determined was him trying to make sure that you weren’t suffering from postpartum depression. You’d convinced him you were fine and feeling good about everything, which was absolutely the truth. Still is the truth. But while staring here at your daughter’s face you just feel like you never want to leave her side.

Originally, you’d planned to go back to working after about six weeks.

“I’m not so sure I want to go back to work,” you tell Doyoung.

Mei blinks, sucking at her thumb. She’s looking at you, and you wonder if she can really see you right now, if she can distinguish your face, tell you apart from Doyoung or WinWin or Miso.

“So don’t go back.” Doyoung’s words are simple, direct. “If you just want to stay home and take care of Mei, then that’s perfectly fine. She’s the most important job you can have, anyway. We’re here to make sure you and this little princess have a stable future.”

You nod. “Maybe when she’s older I’ll go back to work, but I think while she’s young, before she can go to school, I want to spend time with her, teach her.”

Doyoung smiles. “You’ll make her brave and smart. She’ll go to school and they won’t know what hit them. A tiny little sweet faced girl with a big personality, a big heart, and a brain to match. She’ll be the perfect combination of all her daddies.”

You laugh. You can see it now: a little girl with WinWin’s face in her little uniform and braided pigtails, walking into her first classroom with confidence, jabbering away and making friends, impressing teachers. You want to build Mei into a strong, confident, brave girl who’s intelligent and knows her own worth, who won’t let anyone put her down or make her feel small.

You can’t wait to meet her.

When Mei is one month old, WinWin accompanies you to the checkup appointment with the pediatrician. The appointment goes well, and WinWin makes it clear that he’s eager to be Mei’s dad, asking the doctor all kinds of questions about things that you didn’t even consider. He asks the doctor if she thinks it will confuse Mei if she hears multiple languages on a regular basis.

“Oh, no. Quite the opposite. Children raised in multilingual homes often benefit greatly. They can have improved concentration skills, are better at providing solutions, and generally perform better academically.” She smiles encouragingly. “But, out of curiosity, how many languages are we talking? Two? Three?”

You and WinWin look at each other.  

“Probably three,” you tell her. “Potentially four or five.”

Korean and Chinese and English you figure will primarily be spoken around her, but Japanese and Thai are also possibilities. You don’t even mention that Cantonese might occasionally be spoken around her as well. 

“Oh, well that is impressive.” She scribbles something on her clipboard. “I think little Mei will certainly benefit from that.”

When you’re leaving the doctor’s office, WinWin carries Mei’s little carrier. She’s awake and looking up at him, and he keeps speaking to her in Chinese using a cutesy tone. Though as soon as you’re outside, he looks up at you. “Are you hungry? I was thinking we could go grab something to eat?”

There’s a place right around the corner that WinWin knows, so that’s where you go. It’s been a while since you’ve been out on anything that seems like a date. The last time you really went out somewhere and did things with people was your baby shower, and that was three months ago. Your last date was before that, when Lucas took you out to dinner just days before he broke up with you, which is somewhat upsetting when you think about it. And you’ve gone to a few parks over the last few weeks, taking Mei out for some fresh air and sunlight with your various boyfriends, but none of those really counted as dates, so you’re excited when you get to sit down at a table with WinWin and Mei.

Even by the time you do get home afterwards, you’re still buzzing with happiness from how wonderfully the appointment had gone plus the lunch date afterwards, and how Mei didn’t start getting fussy until right as you were arriving home.

You’re just in a very good mood. While you nurse Mei, Xiaojun sits with you and tells you a dramatic retelling of his day with Hendery and YangYang. Renjun wanders into your room a bit later to hangout and hold Mei. The whole afternoon is just guys coming in and out of your room, and you’re feeling great and happy, and you’re feeling good enough that when Jungwoo and Johnny come in to interrupt you doing yoga (in an attempt to get your body as closely to how it was before the pregnancy), you don’t mind. You let them sit and watch. Johnny even helps you with a few poses, and Jungwoo lies down on the floor with you, but he puts Mei on his chest to give her a little bit of tummy time.

You’re in the midst of laughing with Jungwoo and Johnny when Doyoung steps into your doorway, knocks on the doorframe, and says, “We have a little problem.”

That happy little bubble you’ve been living in all day pops.

Doyoung summons a group meeting, so you and Jungwoo and everyone else who’s home descend to the living room. You bring Mei with you, apologizing to Renjun that you don’t want to leave her alone with him (not his fault, it’s just you being nervous being away from her). Not everyone is home, so Doyoung calls Taeyong, Kun, and Jaehyun who are all working and puts them on speaker so they can listen in.

You sit nervously in the big armchair. Ten squeezes in with you, and he convinces you to pass Mei over into Uncle Ten’s loving arms.

“What’s wrong, Doyoung?” You ask first once everyone’s gathered.

He sighs and holds up his phone, which has Twitter open on it. There’s a long thread of tweets, images and text, and you’re not sure what that’s all about, not until he says, “It’s amazing that it took fans this long to catch on.”

“What do you mean by that?” Jaehyun’s voice is staticky over the phonecall. “Caught on to what?”

“To us.” Doyoung explains. “Apparently, our girlfriend and WinWin and Mei were spotted out together today by a fan, and now the pictures are everywhere.”

WinWin swears under his breath. 

“But it’s not just that. It was at first.” Doyoung scrolls up to the top of the Twitter thread on his phone. “Some fans realized that they’ve seen her before, so there’s this thread and a whole bunch of others just full of photos of us and you, sweetheart. Going back ages. I’ve been reading comments, and people were saying that for a long time they just thought you were one of our managers or a staff member or something, but then others had their photos, had stories of times they’ve spotted us out with you. There was some fan who said she saw you out with Hendery and Jungwoo. 

“So now they’re pretty sure that you’re dating one of us, or secretly married to one of us, but they don’t know who. Until today, seeing you and Mei with WinWin, they think they’ve solved it all.” Doyoung rubs his hand over his face, clearly exasperated. “But others think differently, because you’ve been spotted out carrying Mei on your walks through the park with me, with Taeil, with Mark and Taeyong. Some fans are just generally pissed off about all of this.”

Everyone’s been staring at Doyoung or else looking down at their phones as they also search social media for all of these swirling rumors and gossip.

Taeil’s the first to sit forward, and he looks over at you. “I don’t think you should leave the house for a few days until this dies down. For your safety.”

You know he’s talking about their sasaengs. Somehow they’ve been lucky enough that sasaengs haven’t camped out in front of this house like you know they did at their apartments when you first met them. You’re sure that many of those photos in that thread Doyoung’s talking about were taken by sasaengs.

“What are we going to do?” Kun asks, his voice sounding echoey and very distant over the phone. 

“What can we do?” Yuta responds. “I say we just let it all die down, don’t acknowledge the rumors at all.”

Doyoung sighs heavily. “I don’t think we can really do that, hyung. I’m sure the company is going to want to talk to all of us about it. And we can’t just ignore it and pretend that we don’t know what they’re talking about because there is all of this photo evidence, many stories, there are videos, and apparently when Xiaojun did an Insta live last week, you could hear Mei crying in the background.”

“Just say it was Haechan,” Mark suggests. “Say he was acting like a baby.”

“Or we could just tell the truth,” Jaehyun says over the phone. 

Yuta rolls his eyes. “Yeah, but what part of the truth? That Mei is WinWin’s baby, or that literally the fourteen of us all had the same girlfriend and that for nine months didn’t know which of us was fathering her child? That part of the truth? I feel like our NCTzens would possibly explode. Imagine the chaos. We’d probably be forced to disband.”

“Obviously not that whole truth, dumbass.” Jaehyun retorts. 

Yuta starts to bicker back at him, but Taeyong’s voice speaks up loudly over the phone, cutting them both off. “We’re not our own PR team. This isn’t something that we have to address right now, so maybe we should at least wait until we’re all home and can talk about it together, right?”

Right.

But you decide to go on to bed. It’s late enough that you can go without drawing suspicion, and as you’ve got Mei comfy in her bed, you curl up in your bed and open Twitter on your phone.

Maybe it’s a bad idea to search up what fans are saying, but you can’t help it. Especially now when you see half of your boyfriends’ names trending along with NCT and some other things that you’re sure are related to this drama going on. It is somewhat disturbing to see this evidence that the fans are gathering against you, to see the nasty things that they’re saying--threats against you and you even see a few against your daughter that have you muffling your tears against your pillow--and you’re still looking at all of this in horror when the door of your room opens. 

A shadowy figure slips from the lit hallway outside into the dark of your bedroom. You hear the familiar footfalls, and when he falls into bed, it’s a comfortable and intimately familiar weight and heat as he rolls against your side.

“Are you okay?” Mark asks.

His feet bump against yours, and as his head edges onto your pillow, he sees what you’re looking at and sees the blue light of your screen reflecting off the wetness on your cheeks.

“No, that’s what we’re not going to do, okay?” Mark sits up and plucks your phone from your hand, rolls over to the far side of your bed, and sits your phone on the bedside table before he comes back. His thumbs are gentle when he wipes at your cheeks. His voice only sounds a little frustrated, more concerned than anything else as he questions, “Why were you looking at all that?” 

“I wanted to know what they’ve seen, what they had to say.” You sniffle and press your face into the pillow. “Your fans can be terrible.”

Mark sinks down beside you once more, and he places a soothing hand on your back, rubbing up and down your spine. “Listen, you and Mei are safe. If you think that we’d ever let them do anything to hurt either of you....” Mark’s cheek rests against your shoulder. “We’ll fix this. I know we will.”

You sigh shakily, and turn, wrapping yourself around Mark, squeezing him in a hug as you hide your face against his neck. He hugs you back just as tightly. 

It’s hours later, Mark has fallen asleep beside you, and his arm is still tucked under your head, his fingers on that hand are tangled in your hair as he’d fallen asleep gently massaging your scalp in an attempt to get you to fall asleep (which was unsuccessful). There’s a soft glow from the nightlight in the corner of the room, and by its light you’ve been watching Mark’s face, counting his eyelashes and his freckles and then counting his breaths, but you can’t calm your mind enough to slow down and fall asleep.

So you hear Mei waking up, hear her starting to cry. You know you need to get up, leave the nice comforting warmth of the bed, to go feed her, but all you want to do is just stay right there.

You squeeze your eyes shut even as her cries begin to build.

Mark’s sleeping like a rock, so he doesn’t stir. You press closer, press your face to his chest.

The bedroom door opens, and a sleepy Taeil with messy hair comes inside. You can just barely see him through your eyelashes; can see him looking at you and Mark, then his gaze sweeps across the room to the crib in the corner and Mei’s little pink face scrunched up as she cries.

He crosses quietly to the crib, shuffling barefooted, his sweatpants dragging along the floor like socks.

You can’t see him from this angle but you can hear as he shushes Mei, cooing and making soft noises to soothe her. You can hear the rustling as he picks her up, the creak of wood as he settles down in the rocking chair. She keeps crying though, no matter how desperately Taeil tries to soothe her, and after a few minutes of that, you sit up in bed and look over at him.

He’s rocking in the chair, trying to get her to take the pacifier, but she keeps spitting it back out when it’s not giving her what she really wants.

You sigh and push out of bed. Taeil looks up at you.

“Unless you’ve got tits, Taeil, I don’t think she’s gonna calm down for you.” You stand beside him, push your fingers into his hair.

“I thought you were asleep,” he whispers back to you. He doesn’t look away from Mei, just keeps looking down at her puckered face.

Your fingers slide down from his hair to the back of his neck, resting gently there. “I can’t sleep. I just keep thinking about what your fans are saying.” 

Taeil looks up at you then, a frown drawing his eyebrows tightly together. “You don’t need to look at what they’re saying. Our managers have already said that we’re going to have a big PR meeting probably tomorrow so our company can put out a statement. But you don’t need to worry about anything. You’re safe here.”

Mei lets out another piercingly loud cry from such a small baby, and you reach for her. Taeil hands her up to you easily, then he stands, gesturing for you to sit in the chair. You don’t even think about it as you move your top to bare your breast for Mei to latch onto, but Taeil makes a short noise, and when you look up at him, he’s looking away, rubbing at the back of his head like he’s embarrassed.

You try to hide your smile. “You’re all so funny about this, you know. Half of you get embarrassed to look at my boobs now. You’ve seen them before, Taeil.”

“I know that.” He mumbles, and you swear if there were a bit more light in the room, you’d be able to see that he was blushing. “I just have really been missing you lately, you know? It’s been a while.” 

Taeil tries his best to keep his eyes on your face when he turns to you then, but you watch as his gaze inevitably falls to your breast. But there his gaze seems to soften at the sight of Mei’s dark little head nestled there.

Taeil sinks to his knees. “It’s all different now, you know? She’s here now, and she’s so tiny and perfect. Everything’s just.... centered differently.”

You know exactly what he means. Before Mei there were so many things--things to do, places to go, people to go see and talk to, and meaningless things to fill your time with, boyfriends to go fuck around with--and now there’s Mei and she’s just got you so wrapped up with her, none of those things feel like they matter. It’s just you and her, like your whole little world. 

“I don’t think it really matters that WinWin’s her real dad.” Taeil reaches one finger up and strokes the back of Mei’s tiny hand. “Isn’t there a saying that it takes a village to raise a child? Well, here we are. Your whole village to help raise Mei. Our Mingmei. I know that it’s not going to be easy to be here sometimes, and that there’s no way of telling what the future holds for all of us, but I want to be here. I love you. I adore Mei.” Taeil’s expression is so soft as he says that; his eyes are moist looking at you and your daughter then, and after another moment he sinks back to sit on the floor, and he turns his face away, hiding as he tries to hastily wipe away his tears.

“I don’t want you to go anywhere either, Taeil. I’ve said it before, but if Mei could have all of you as her father, that’s what I would wish.” You smile down at her. “Imagine having a dozen fathers to show up and be there any time she needs support, protection, encouragement.”

Taeil sits up then, resting a hand on your knee reassuringly. “We will be here to protect her. Especially right now.” He shakes his head, his brows set in determination. “After you came up here, Doyoung was showing us some more of what they were saying, and I swear to you, we will not let any of them near you. Ever. But there were some great things people were saying.”

You’d seen a few of those during your deep dive. Fans saying that you seemed lovely--both visually in the pictures, and then also the few fans that had stories about seeing you out with the boys had said that you had sounded sweet--and fans defending you, defending the boys, reporting accounts threatening violence toward you or Mei. There were fans gushing over the boys as fathers, fans going wild thinking about aesthetic baby pics that some of them might post on their Instagrams. 

There were definitely some wonderful things you’d seen, but it was hard to focus on those when there was so much negativity inspiring fear and anxiety and terrible things in you. 

By the time Mei finishes nursing, even you are finally starting to feel tired. Taeil takes her from you as you attempt to pull your shirt back into place, and he paces around the room, singing quietly, patting her back to burp her. You just sit there in the rocking chair, rocking back and forth, your eyes feeling heavier and heavier as you watch Taeil and listen to him.

You don’t even realize that you’ve dipped off, not until there’s fingers on your shoulder and on your cheek, a quiet voice calling your name. 

“Hmm?” You open your eyes.

Taeil, smiling sleepily too. “You should get in bed, my love. Mei’s fine,” he explains when you sit up suddenly and look around. “She fell asleep, so I put her back down. Come on, into bed.” He helps you cross the few feet to the bed, his hand in yours, and once you’ve slid back in between the covers, your head once more on the pillow, Taeil smooths hand over your hair, and leans in to whisper, “Goodnight,” and he places a loving kiss on your forehead. 

You’re asleep before you can remember to mumble a sweet “goodnight” back to him.

Maybe it was a mistake telling your boyfriends that the doctor had approved and even encouraged the use of multiple languages with Mei. Because after you tell them that, then you rarely hear the Chinese members speak in anything other than Chinese to her. Yuta almost exclusively reads and sings and speaks to her in Japanese. Johnny, Mark, and even sometimes Jaehyun and Ten speak English to Mei. You even catch Xiaojun singing in Cantonese to her.

Mei looks up at him, waving her arms and legs, cooing happily as he leans on the side of her crib to sing to her.

“What are you doing?” You ask, sliding up beside him, one arm curling around his waist, your cheek resting on his shoulder. “She’s going to be so confused when she’s older if you speak to her in Mandarin and Cantonese, Jun.” You brush your lips in a light kiss to his exposed shoulder.

“She’s going to be smart,” Xiaojun responds quickly. “Going to speak five languages by the time she’s five, and put all of us to shame with her brain.” You feel him kiss you on the top of your head. “Were you still on for coming with WinWin, Ten, and I later?”

It’s been a few weeks since the rumors first struck. Their PR team put out a statement, claiming that you were just a staff member and close friend of the group who happened to have a baby. A lot of fans had backed off, but you were still a little wary about leaving the house unless it was necessary. You’d only left for appointments, and then to go meet up with your parents once for them to fawn over their granddaughter.

“I don’t know, Xiaojun. Your fans are still watching us.” You step away from him.

Lately there’s been a heightened presence of sasaengs around the boys. You’d even noticed one following you on your way to the last appointment you’d had with your doctor—one where you’d been cleared to return to work (if you wanted that) and to resume sexual activities (though she did advise that you take it easy, so no rough sex, no orgies)—and you’d been lucky to find that an old friend of yours was acting as a courier, and he was in the doctor’s office dropping something off right as you were leaving. He’d walked out with you, and though he was working, he did walk with you and make sure that the sasaeng stopped following.

Xiaojun turns away from the crib to follow you, his fingers catching on your sleeve, sliding down over your hand. “Hey, babe. Look, I know that lately we’ve been under more surveillance than normal. I’ve seen what they’re saying online, people still doubting the story that our team put out, but that doesn’t mean that you need to withdraw from us.” Xiaojun strokes the back of your hand until you turn it over and he laces his fingers through yours. “Come out with us tonight. Let Kun or Jaehyun or one of them watch Mei, and come have fun.”

You glance uncertainly over at Mei’s crib. “I don’t know....”

You haven’t left Mei yet, not for any extended period of time, not for longer than a shower or a quick snack in the kitchen along with a handjob for Johnny. Leaving her for two or three hours, that just doesn’t sound like something you’re ready for yet.

“I’ll think about it.” You tell him.

Xiaojun lets out a happy sound, and then he cups your face between his hands, and pulls you into a quick kiss. “Please say yes. We’re just going to see a movie. And whoever watches her will have to deal with Jaehyun probably hovering protectively right at his shoulder the whole time. She’ll be fine.” He pecks you on the lips again, and this time you twist your fingers in the bottom of his top, lean in on your toes, and kiss him again.

Xiaojun makes a pleasant sound, his fingers slide into your hair, angling your mouth against his. You want to push this a little further, want to feel his bare skin against yours, feel the pleasure that you haven’t felt for weeks and weeks now.

He smiles into the kiss as you push your hands up under his top, moving up his chest. He almost giggles when you feel up his pecs. Xiaojun pulls back just a little, pecking you on the lips playfully amidst his giggles, before pressing back in fully.

You can do this, you tell yourself. Your doctor cleared you for sex again, and you know that Xiaojun will be gentle with you, that he’s a good choice to be your first time again. This will be fine.

When you drop your hands from his chest, slipping your fingertips beneath the waistband of his pants, Xiaojun slows down as if he’s a little confused by you initiating this. And when you touch his dick, he backs off and his eyebrows draw together in confusion. “Are you... Are you sure?”

“Mmmh.” You nod. “My doctor finally cleared me. I’m good as long as we take it a little slow.”

Xiaojun’s smile returns, and he cocks his head to the side a little and looks you up and down. “So I should treat you like a virgin, right? Take it easy and slow?”

You whine. “Don’t tease me, Xiaojun.”

“No, I won’t.” He kisses you sweetly. “But are you sure? You want to do this now? Here?”

Mei’s just right over in the corner, unknowingly looking up at the mobile spinning over her head, unaware of what’s going on here. It does feel a little bit weird, but she won’t know. She won’t have a clue what’s going on.

“I’m sure.” You nod. “Well, I’m sure that I at least want to see how far we can go. I just,” you sigh, “feel like we’ll be interrupted by one thing or another. A baby, a boyfriend, discomfort. Something. But yes.”

 “We’ll figure it out.” Xiaojun bounces a little eagerly and excitedly on his toes. “God, I really want you.”

You kind of love that Xiaojun doesn’t rush you at all even after he says that. He doesn’t push you to hurry into anything, is content with just lying in your bed and making out, letting your hands wander over his bare arms, delving into his hair, slipping through the large cutouts at his sides to scrape your nails lightly over his back or his abs or his chest. He doesn’t try to get you to touch him lower down his body even when you can feel how hard he is against your thigh. Xiaojun lets you take it all at your own pace, lets you pull his hands under your shirt.

You’re feeling more confident with your body now than you were even just a few weeks ago. You’ve looked at mommy forums online, and they say that it’s not uncommon to feel negatively about your body for quite a while after birth, but you’re happier now.

So when Xiaojun touches your belly, as he lifts your shirt up over your chest, you don’t feel embarrassed at all. You feel the heat of lust burning in your belly, your skin flushed with heat even as cool air touches your chest.

“Fuck, so pretty. I’ve missed you like this,” Xiaojun groans, breaking away from your lips to kiss your neck, then skipping down to your chest, the mound of your tits in your bra. His thigh slips between your knees, his lips dance over your chest, and you can’t help the breathy little sounds that spill from your lips.

You clap a hand over your mouth.

“Don’t be shy,” Xiaojun chuckles. “You make such pretty noises, babe. Let me hear them.”

You obediently drop your hand, sliding your fingers into his hair instead as Xiaojun keeps kissing your chest, and his hand finally slips down into your panties.

“Ah!” The little gasped sound escapes your lips when Xiaojun’s finger glides over your clit.

He grinds subtly against your thigh, and moans softly, lifting his head from your chest and kisses you again.

It’s been so long since you were touched like this, that it’s literally seconds before Xiaojun is smirking at just how wet you’ve grown. He sticks with touching your clit, kissing away all the sweet sounds you’re making, until you start moving with him, rocking your hips up and looking for more than just the touches to your clit.

Xiaojun moves down to kiss at your neck, and as he does that, he slips a finger inside you.

You moan loudly, your hand flying down to grip at Xiaojun’s forearm, not to stop him but just to hold on to him as he fingers you. It doesn’t hurt or anything, it’s a bit uncomfortable after everything your vagina went through just a little over a month and a half ago. But it still feels so good.

Your fingernails dig into his skin just as his teeth nip at your throat, his cock rubs against your thigh, and Xiaojun makes a muffled sound against your neck. You let go of his wrist, snaking your hand inside his pants to touch his cock, to help him feel good too.

“Wait,” he mumbles, “I feel like this should be about you.”

“Very chivalrous of you, but I kinda want you to enjoy this too.” You try to keep going, but Xiaojun stops, sits up, and pulls his hand entirely out of your pants, then grabs your wrist and removes your hand from his pants as well. You pout up at him.

He looks away from you, up at the ceiling. “Please don’t give me that look.”

“Then come touch me some more.” You reach for his waistband.

Xiaojun bats your hand away, and moves down the bed. “I’m going to, but, babe, I want the focus to be on you. I don’t care about me right now because I guarantee I had an orgasm more recently than you. So, please, just let me make you feel good first.”

You really can’t argue with that.

“Okay. Fine, do with me what you will.” You spread out your arms and legs, dramatically going limp.

Xiaojun rolls his eyes affectionately. “Can I take your pants off?”

You lift up your hips to help him slide your pants off, then he kneels up over you, pulling the shirt up over your head.

He sinks back down to sit on his heels and drinks in the sight of you before him.

You wonder if he’s thinking of the last time he had you like this, because you know that you are. It’s been months and months since the last time that you and Xiaojun were alone together like this, taking the time to appreciate and take each other apart. It was shortly after you learned you were pregnant, you’d spent the whole morning in bed together, getting each other off; you’d spent at least half an hour kissing his entire body, sucking his cock, praising his body.

“Fuck, I love you,” he sighs, and falls over you again, his body covering yours as he captures you in a kiss once more. Xiaojun slips a hand under your back, and you feel his fingers fumble for a second or two with the clasp on the back of your bra before it releases. You sigh in comfortable relief, and reach up to pull the straps down your arms, freeing yourself of the bra entirely.

You hold your breath as Xiaojun starts to kiss down your body—trailing burning kisses down your throat, between your breasts, down your belly, and at last he reaches the edge of your panties.

His nose nudges against your clit through the material, and when Xiaojun places the gentlest of kisses right over your pussy, your breath catches in your throat before shaking its way free. He lifts his head so he can see your face as he finally removes the last piece of clothing on your body.

The last time you were this naked in front of one of your boyfriends was when you showered with Jaehyun before you found out WinWin was Mei’s father. Almost two months ago.

When you feel his breath on your bare, wet pussy, all you can do is close your eyes, bite your bottom lip, and pray that he’s about to eat you out. You want so badly to really, truly get your pussy eaten the way that hasn’t been done in a long time.

And right as Xiaojun grants your nonverbal wish, his tender lips kissing your clit, a new voice of doubt enters your mind.

What if you look different down there? Or smell or taste different?

You haven’t really taken much time to pay attention to if giving birth altered how your pussy looks. You have no idea if you’re going to taste different. You’re only kinda sure that you don’t smell different. And what if it doesn’t feel right when he eats you out anymore? You’ve read that sex might feel different after the baby, and you’ve always loved Xiaojun eating you out. Him and WinWin are two of your favorites when it comes to oral.

You just start doubting all of this, thinking and worrying, so even as Xiaojun’s doing his best down there, you’re not giving him any reactions. Not until he pulls back and looks up at your face to ask, “Does it not feel good?”

“I’m sorry.” You groan, rubbing a hand over your face. “I think I’m just... thinking too much.”

“Relax.” Xiaojun puts a hand on your thigh, massaging gently. “You don’t need to think about anything, don’t worry or stress.”

He’s probably right. You don’t need to worry about any of that stuff. He’s clearly not turned off by what he’s faced with down there right now, as he’s already diving back in to sweep his tongue against you. You just need to relax, to sink into the pleasure of what he’s doing, and forget everything else but just that.

Easier said than done, honestly, but you do try.

Xiaojun sets to work on fucking you open on his middle finger again, his tongue at your clit. Slowly, it does start to feel really good; you get out of your mind and just relax into the pleasure, your body taking over, moving with Xiaojun. A second finger joins the first, and soon he’s even got a third finger pumping inside you, his lips sucking at your clit.

You twist your head to the side and bite at your upper arm to keep your moans in check as your orgasm quickly rises. Your chest heaves, whines leaking out even though you try to keep quiet, and Xiaojun lifts his head.

“You look so sexy right now. Are you going to cum on my fingers, babe?” Xiaojun moans a little, sitting up on his knees so he can kiss at your belly, then a little higher up your chest. His lips brush against your breasts, and you shudder from the small burst of pleasure that gives you. His hips dip down, hard cock grinding against your leg, and his three fingers push in deep inside you, stretching you so your pussy really feels it in the best way.

“Fuck, Dejun. Deeper.” Your hands fly to his shoulders, fingertips digging in. “I want you to make me....”

He drops back down, face dipping once more between your legs. With his free hand he pushes at your thigh, trying to get you to spread your legs even farther apart. His tongue flicks over your clit, fingers pressing inside you. The knot in your belly grows tighter, the warm tingling of pleasure building higher and higher, and you feel so close, your body growing hotter, orgasm just within reach the air itself feeling like it’s sparkling around you.

Xiaojun sucks your clit between his lips, his fingers press in right against your G-spot, and just like that your orgasm unleashes.

Your toes curl, body arching up, hips rolling against his mouth, and the guttural sighs and moans that leave your mouth are barely muffled as you bite at your lip in an attempt to keep them in. Your chest rises and falls and feels damp, your whole body warm and shaky and you feel like you’re sweating, but it’s different.

Xiaojun licks you through the throes of ecstasy, only backing off and pulling his fingers out when your hips have eased back down against the bed and you’re whining, thighs twitching on either side of his ears.

And it’s then that you open your eyes from where they were squeezed shut.

Xiaojun’s face is the first thing you see, his wondrous gaze locked on your chest. “Is that your milk?” He asks. And for the first time you realize that your chest doesn’t just feel damp, doesn’t just feel sweaty from that mind-blowing orgasm, your breasts have leaked out breastmilk during that orgasm.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry.” You cover your face in embarrassment. “Oh my god, I just, god, didn’t know that would happen.”

Xiaojun just laughs. “It’s fine. It’s kinda hot, honestly.”

“Right, my boobs squirting is very attractive.” You can’t convince yourself to pull your hands away from your face. Not until you feel Xiaojun’s tongue on your skin. “You are not licking up my breast milk, are you?” You lift your head to look down at him.

Xiaojun freezes and makes eye contact with you. His tongue hasn’t yet reached where your breast milk has leaked down to. So he pulls his tongue back inside his mouth. “I wouldn’t be opposed to it. It’s just breastmilk, right? What’s the possible harm?”

It’s not like you’ve never heard of this before. You’d read in forums and stuff about mother’s tasting their own breastmilk, fathers tasting their wife or girlfriend’s breastmilk. You’d even read about someone letting their friends, brothers, and more try it. You think that one’s a bit strange, but you can’t deny that you had tasted a little bit of yours yourself one morning out of curiosity. And while you were pregnant Jungwoo had confessed his interest in it.

You just hadn’t expected Xiaojun to be into this.

“I mean, you can if you want to, I guess.” You drop your head back down onto the bed.

Xiaojun’s tongue touches your skin again, and it feels so nice. And then his mouth is on your tits, gentle lips and tongue lapping at the spilled breastmilk. Your pussy starts to throb again with arousal as Xiaojun’s tongue races right up to the edge of your nipple, and then he stops.

You groan and lift your head to look at him again, and just as your eyes meet, Xiaojun flicks his tongue over your nipple, lapping at the damp peak.

It’s certainly not a whimper that leaves your lips.

Xiaojun laughs, and then he does it all over again; his warm tongue tracing over your chest on the other side, though this time he takes his time with your breast, and upon reaching your nipple, he closes his lips briefly around the nipple to flick his tongue at the hardened bud. It’s weird feeling it like this, so different from before when they would lick and suck at your nipples during sex, but also a lot different too than when Mei does it.

You feel like you should not be deriving sexual pleasure from one of your boyfriends basically nursing from you—breastmilk flowing from your nipple into his mouth—but Xiaojun doesn’t stop. In fact, he also seems to be getting off from it. His hips roll against the bed, grinding down into the mattress. He moans, brings one hand up to the side of your breast, gently massaging as he continues with this.

“Fuck me,” you sigh, a plea and a sound of pleasure. And Xiaojun obeys, pulling away from you just long enough to push his pants down and kick them off the foot of the bed, and then he’s back, hips cradled between your thighs. You knot your fingers in the front of his shirt, “Now.”

Xiaojun is gentle and slow, tenderly stroking your thigh as he enters you. He leaves little kisses on your throat and your chest, and it’s only when he starts shallowly rocking into you that he lowers his mouth to your chest and once again starts laving his attention on your tits.

It’s not terrible, just a little uncomfortable. There’s a dull ache that’s not pleasant at all as he thrusts into you, and even though you can tell Xiaojun’s holding back, just trying to make you feel good. And you can feel it—the pleasure is right there through a thin veil of discomfort, and you know if you can just get past that then this will be great. Sweet love-making with Xiaojun would be perfect.

You slide your hands over his back, dipping your fingers beneath his shirt to scrape lightly over his shoulders, and Xiaojun moans. He loses a little bit of restraint, thrusting deeper and a little harder, and there you find the pleasure.

“More,” you moan.

Xiaojun nuzzles against your breast, his lips closed around your nipple as he moans, tasting you on his tongue, feeling you warm and wet around his cock. You’re not surprised that he might not last long. Not surprised when he moans again and draws his hips back, cock leaving you empty as he cums across your belly, still suckling at your tit.

You cradle a hand against the back of his head, your eyes flutter closed, and you think you could let this sweet pleasure overwhelm you again, take you into another orgasm, to peaceful bliss.

The door opens suddenly (why do they never seem to know how to knock when you’re in the middle of something?) and there, framed in the doorway, stand Jungwoo and WinWin.

Xiaojun lifts his head slowly, his lips releasing your tit as he turns his wide-eyed gaze to his members. There’s a small hint of breastmilk on his bottom lip.

There’s no possible way to deny what just happened.

For one thing, you’re lying fully nude beneath Xiaojun. His face was just buried against your chest. Both of you are fully flushed in the face. He looks dazed, horny, and (as you just noted) there’s breastmilk on his bottom lip.

WinWin and Jungwoo stare at both of you in silence for a long moment that finally breaks when WinWin shakes his head and marches inside, heading straight over to the crib.

Mei’s still happily oblivious to what’s been going on. WinWin scoops her up, cradling her in his arms, and as he turns to face you on the bed, he shields her little face from the sight of you and Xiaojun with his hand. His voice is somewhat amused, somewhat scandalized, as he asks, “In front of our daughter?”

Xiaojun rolls to the edge of the bed and sits upright, tries to cover up with the edge of the duvet cover, and then folds his hands in his lap. But when he notices that Jungwoo’s staring at him—most notably, staring at his mouth—he quickly wipes at his lips and chin, smearing away the last of the evidence of what he’d just been doing.

You sit up as well, dragging a blanket over your lap, folding your arms in front of your breasts. “In my defense, there’s absolutely no way that she knows what just happened.”

WinWin shakes his head, trying to look disapproving, but you can see the corner of his mouth turning up in a smile as he looks back down at Mei. “So does this mean that you’re cleared again?” He asks. “Doctor says you can have sex?”

You nod, looking around at him, at the back of Xiaojun’s head where he’s facing away from you, at Jungwoo still framed in the doorway and gazing in awe at you and Xiaojun. “Yeah, just nothing really intense or rough. So no orgies for a while. Her actual words.”

“Good to know.” WinWin wiggles his fingers in front of Mei’s face, and she knocks around one of her little fists, as if she’s trying to grasp his fingers in front of her. He can’t pull his eyes away from her as he says, “I’m pretty sure I owe you some kind of great thank you for this gift right here.”

He starts walking toward the door again, and Jungwoo even steps out of the way to let him pass, so you ask, “Where are you going with her?”

“I’m going to spend a little quality time with my daughter,” WinWin says, and if life were a cartoon then his pupils would be heart-shaped as Mei grips onto one of his fingers right then. “You and Xiaojun can finish up here. Clean up before we go to the movie tonight.” His gaze finally lifts from your daughter, flicking in Xiaojun’s direction.

Xiaojun starts to say something in response, but WinWin’s already ducked out of sight of the doorway, leaving Jungwoo still standing there.

He doesn’t move, even as Xiaojun stands and starts to gather his pants and underwear from where he’s kicked them. Jungwoo just stares at you, at your bare tits. You can kind of guess what he’s thinking, and right as Xiaojun’s shimmying his pants back into place, Jungwoo asks, “Does it taste alright?”

Xiaojun freezes, glancing between you and Jungwoo.

You don’t really care what his answer is. It’s breastmilk, it’s not meant for him anyway, so you don’t think his opinion on it really matters. Instead of intently listening to him, you climb out of bed, turning your back on your boyfriends to get dressed.

“It’s not bad. Wouldn’t be my first choice of drink, but I’m not going to pretend like I wouldn’t definitely do that again.” Xiaojun sounds so pleased with himself as he says it, and you roll your eyes affectionately, carrying your clothes in your arms into the bathroom to shower, leaving Xiaojun and Jungwoo out there to discuss your breasts and your milk. You need to shower and get ready for the first date you’ll have in months.

Once the others realize that you’re open to having sex again, you’ve got a parade of boyfriends trying to get between your legs again. Or at least, after hearing about what WinWin and Jungwoo had walked in on, they keep asking to taste your breastmilk.

Self-consciously, you cross your arms over your chest as Mark’s folded himself onto the end of your bed and just asked you in a very serious voice, “So can I have a taste too?”

“Mark, shut the fuck up.” Yuta’s sitting right beside you, holding Mei who’s just looking up at him and smiling. She’s been doing that a lot lately, making this absolutely adorable smile that has every single person in this house wrapped around her tiny fingers. “If you want to taste it just go get in the minifridge.” Yuta jerks his head over to the set up you’ve got tucked in the corner beside the rocking chair, now that you’re pumping milk just so you don’t have to get your tits out every time that Mei cries for food.

“Do not drink Mei’s supply, Mark Lee.” You get up, and as you walk toward the end of the bed, you reach up to ruffle your fingers through Mark’s hair. “You boys are all so weird. Every one that’ve had a taste say it’s weird, so why do you keep asking. You don’t even eat yogurt, Mark, what do you think breastmilk is going to do to you?”

Yuta snickers.

Mark laughs too, and you smile as you rest your hand on his head. He tilts back to meet your gaze.

And then you hear it.

Your head snaps toward Yuta and Mei. You feel Mark go still beneath you. Yuta’s frozen in surprise.

You hear it again.

“Is she laughing?” You climb back onto the bed, crawling up toward the head.

Mei’s tiny little body, her smiling face. She’s laughing. And if you’ve ever had a favorite sound, it is this. Your daughter’s little giggle. She’s three and a half months old, and this is the funniest thing in her whole life.

You’re still fawning over her and the cute sounds she makes when WinWin gets home.

He always comes up to see Mei first thing when he gets home, even if it’s super late, even if he’s already extremely tired. Even if he’s fresh off a fifteen hour long shoot, he pops through the door of your bedroom.

“Sicheng!” You look up, unable to lose your grin. “Babe! Come here! She laughed!”

He looks confused for just a split second, and then Haechan (who had come into the room looking for Mark) does something and Mei laughs again.

WinWin’s face goes soft with surprise and awe, and then he lights up. Yuta’s still holding her, but he gives her up easily when WinWin makes grabby hands at his daughter. WinWin immediately hugs her and you can see Mei smiling like the happiest little baby.

For the first time since you saw her, right now as you look at the way she’s looking at her father, you realize that Mei is like a real little human. Like, on some level you’ve known that this whole time. You’ve known it since you first felt her move inside you, since you heard her first cry, since you spent all night watching her breathe.

After a little while, the others drift away, making excuses to leave, and then it’s just you and WinWin with your daughter. You scoot close beside him so you can rest your head on his shoulder, looking down at Mei cradled in his arms. Her eyelids are growing heavy, a pacifier between her lips now.

“Sometimes, when I first wake up in the morning,” WinWin says in a hushed tone, “Sometimes I think that this has all just been a dream. That I’m going to roll over, get up, and we’re going to be back where we were a year ago, before we even knew you were pregnant, and in that moment after just waking up, my heart drops. And I think that it was such a good dream.” He sighs.

Mei’s eyes fall shut, and WinWin looks down at her.

“I can’t imagine my life without her.” WinWin admits. “I hope you know that. The day I got that test result, best day of my life. I just.... I can’t even describe....”

“I understand.” You sit up a bit and kiss his cheek. “And I’m happy you’re her dad. I don’t know if I’ve ever actually said those words to you. But you’re so good at this.”

“So you’re saying I’m the best boyfriend?” WinWin smiles over at you, and judging by the way that his gaze briefly flicks past your face, over your shoulder toward where the door to your bedroom is, you assume one of the others has come to call, and WinWin’s looking to irritate whoever it is. He meets your gaze again as he says, “You’re saying that all along you wished I would be the dad, and you were just playing along with Jaehyun’s fantasies of him potentially being the dad.”

You look over and see Jaehyun leaning in the doorway, arms folded across his chest. 

Honestly your mouth waters at the sight. He looks like he’s ready for climbing into bed and staying there. Shirtless and wearing sweatpants, hair pushed back with a headband. 

“I’m glad Mei’s your daughter, WinWin. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to make Jaehyun a daddy too.” You trace your gaze down the length of Jaehyun’s body, barely able to contain yourself. 

“Alright,” WinWin groans. “I guess that’s my cue to take our daughter and go. You look like you’re about to jump him, baby.”

“You don’t have to go.” You kneel up on your bed when WinWin stands up to go.

He shakes his head. “I’m not staying here with her while you eye-fuck Jaehyun.” He looks the other man up and down. “Have fun. Looks like you could both use it.” WinWin pats Jaehyun on the shoulder as they pass each other, and you watch WinWin leaving the room, holding Mei to his shoulder, kissing her head softly.

The softness you feel at that sight wars entirely with the lust you feel when Jaehyun slinks into your bed.

One knee lands between yours, a hand to your shoulder gently presses you back, and then Jaehyun’s over top of you, his lips press against yours. It feels so good to just kiss him, to feel his body on yours, all heat and hard planes. You love the soft little grunt of pleasure he makes against your lips when you trail a hand down his chest, fingers brushing over his nipple. You love the amused sound of surprise he makes when you suddenly push him over, rolling him beneath you.

Jaehyun’s hair’s grown long over these last several weeks, and now it flares out on the bed in a not-entirely-flattering manner. But you sit on his hips, reach forward to pluck the headband from his hair, and you toss it aside so you can run your fingers freely through his hair as you sink back in to kiss him some more.

“Did you mean what you said?” Jaehyun moans a few moments later as you begin to helplessly shift your hips. “About wanting to make me a daddy too?”

“Mmmh.” You kiss down his throat. “I would gladly give you a baby, I think. You clearly want one all your own.”

Jaehyun puts a hand to your shoulder, applying gentle pressure to get you to stop for just a moment. “Hey, look at me.”

You lift your head from his throat.

When Jaehyun’s eyes are looking right into yours, he says, “I want you to know that I am perfectly happy with Mei as my daughter. You know that, right?” You start to sink back down to get back to what you were doing, but Jaehyun catches your chin between his fingers. “I don’t want you to think that you, like, owe me a biological baby, okay? I know I always talk about this breeding kink thing, but in the end it’s just that, just a kinky thing. Of course, I would love to have a baby with you, but I don’t want you to feel obligated, okay? Tell me you know that.”

“I know, Jae.” You peck him on the lips. “But I want to make you happy too. And I don’t think I want to stop with just one kid. Especially when I see how you all dote on her. You’re all really amazing dads.”

Jaehyun chuckles, shaking his hand still holding your chin a little. “Don’t you miss our days of doting on you? Spoilt baby.” He flips things back over, sweeping your hands up over your head, pinning your wrists against the mattress. “Want me to spoil you again, princess?”

Warmth blooms through you, tingling down to your fingertips and toes as Jaehyun looks at you and talks to you like that. His hand dives under your shirt, pushing it higher up your chest until your bra is exposed; one flick of his wrist and the nursing bra you’re wearing falls apart, and your breasts are freed for him.

“Jaehyun, please.” Your breathy whine does exactly what you want.

Jaehyun, with one hand still pinning your wrists above your head, lowers his mouth to your breast. His other hand dips inside the shorts you’re wearing, inside your panties too. You gasp and arch into his touch as he grazes your clit. So enamored are you by the things he’s making you feel, that you don’t notice at first when he removes his hand from your wrist. It’s only as you feel your shorts and panties being tugged down that you realize your hands are free, but you leave them together above your head as Jaehyun pulls his mouth from you and shimmies your shorts away.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy.” Jaehyun sinks down low, lying on his belly between your legs. His hands press against your thighs, getting you to spread open a little farther. He leans up to kiss your belly just below your navel, right where the butterflies are going wild in your gut.

Sure, Xiaojun ate you out when you had sex with him, and you’ve fucked a couple of the others since that, but you haven’t had Jaehyun’s tongue on you in what feels like ages. Definitely for several months. So seeing him between your legs like this has really stirred you up, and you can feel yourself dripping more just thinking about his tongue and sweet lips on your pussy.

“Gonna make you cum until you can’t take anymore.” Jaehyun murmurs, kissing lower, his breath fanning over your wetness. “I love spoiling you, baby. Just let me know if it gets to be too much.”

And then there he is, fingers spreading your labia apart to give him direct access to suck your clit between his lips. You can’t stand how well Jaehyun knows you, how he knows exactly every move to make right now to get you to cum quickest. He buries his face against you, eating you out with such intensity and devotion that you’re lightheaded even before your first orgasm crashes over you. And it doesn’t stop there. Waves of pleasure as Jaehyun keeps licking your pussy, fucking you with his tongue, making vibrations to carry you through it by moaning as you drip on his tongue.

When Jaehyun sharply sucks your clit back into his mouth after that second orgasm, you squeeze your thighs around his head, and you whine, “Too much, Jae. Back off.”

He does slowly pull himself up onto his knees, lifting a hand to drag it back across his mouth, though he still licks his lips again.

“Good, princess? You only came twice. Don’t you want more?” As he shifts a little, you notice the tent in the front of his sweatpants. Immediately you want to offer to jerk him off or blow him, but you know that Jaehyun is just as likely to turn that down, to go shower and take care of himself instead, so you entice him the only way that you know for certain will have him staying.

You spreak your legs apart again. “I’m not finished. I want you inside me. Told you I want to have your baby too, didn’t I?”

“Stop. This is about you. Not me.” Jaehyun says, but he’s already got a hand on your hip, is already rolling you onto your belly. “Want to get on your knees, precious?”

You lift your ass up, cheek still against the bed, and Jaehyun slicks his fingers against your pussy, giving you just his fingertips before they disappear again, his fingers damp on your hips instead. You bite your lip to hold in the pathetic whimper that you almost made as you grind back against his fingers, pressing back until you feel the soft material covering his thighs bumping against your bare skin. His erection fits against your ass.

“Ah, shit.” Jaehyun moans, his hips pushing forward involuntarily.

“I need you, Jaehyun. I’ve missed your cock. It’s been so long since I had you inside me, remember?” You’re sure you’re creating a damp spot on the front of his pants, continuing to grind back against his erection. “Please fuck me, Jae. Please, Daddy?”

Jaehyun’s not always big on the daddy kink thing. That’s mostly Kun, occasionally Doyoung when he’s really feeling it. But from time to time, you’ve called Jaehyun daddy, and he’s loved it. Just as he does now.

You can feel him fumbling quickly with his pants, pushing them down around his thighs, his hands going back to your ass, thumbs spreading your cheeks so he can see as his desperately hard cock presses against your entrance and then as he pushes inside.

Jaehyun moans, swearing and sounding so lovely as he feels your warm vagina around him for the first time since the beginning of the year, like eight months almost. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good around me.”

“Yeah, Daddy?” You turn your head to the side, trying to get a look at Jaehyun’s face. “You missed my pussy?”

“Haven’t we all?” His hands slip from your ass to your hips, holding tightly as he starts thrusting into you. “Heard you keep telling most of them no when they come drooling after you, baby. Waiting for someone special? Only want Daddy’s cock to fill you up?”

He’s mostly right. Ever since Xiaojun, you’ve messed around with several of them. Johnny had come to you begging for attention as the one handjob you’d given him had been distracted and hurried. Kun and you had had a quick roll around the other morning, which ended with his fingers inside you and your hand down his pants. There was the moment when Jungwoo had sat there watching you try to nurse Mei, but when it turned out that she wasn’t hungry although your tits were hurting with the need to get the milk out, and he’d eagerly volunteered to help you with that instead of you having to sit there with the breast pump which was just annoying to have to deal with. You’d sat in his lap with his face buried against your tits, and after he’d had his fill, looking dazed and horny, you laid back on the bed for him so he could jerk off over your chest before licking it clean again.

For the most part, you’ve not engaged in actual penetrative sex with any of the guys since Xiaojun, but a couple weeks after that, you did share a single glass of wine with Doyoung, and it went straight to your head, making you feel all giddy and buzzy, so when Doyoung got you to your feet to go bed, you’d dragged him into a kiss. The kiss also went straight to your head, pulling and tugging Doyoung all the way into your bedroom with you, through the bathroom door, into the shower. It felt so good to have him in you again, moving against you, pinning you against the cool tile wall of the shower, water racing down your bodies and streaming between your lips as you kissed.

You’d had sex with Yuta too, convincing him to stay in bed with you one morning. He’d woken hard, your name on his lips, and as soon as he realized, Yuta hurried to climb from bed, to go take care of it himself, but you’d caught his arm and asked him to stay. Yuta was worried about hurting you, concerned about Mei in the corner. But she was already gone as it was actually quite late in the morning. You’d already fed her, and Taeil had taken her downstairs when he left your room. So you welcome Yuta into you, and he’s not normally so tender and romantic in bed. You know him better by the rough passion, each time normally touching on one of his kinks, but this time had been sweet and gentle, taking you apart second by second until you unraveled beneath him. He’d left afterwards, pressing a kiss to your forehead and promising he’d be back with breakfast in bed.

 But, Jaehyun was mostly right about you waiting for his cock. The few times you’ve had sex again, none of them had cum inside of you for one reason or another, and you know that if you tell him that now, it’ll really satisfy Jaehyun’s jealousy and his breeding kink, thinking that he’s the only one allowed to cum in you now.

“Waiting for you, Daddy,” you moan, gasping for breath as his tip drags right against your G spot. “Been waiting for your cum. Please, Jaehyun.”

“Of course, baby. I’ll give it to you.” He thrusts in deep, reaches a hand up to tangle his fingers in your hair so he can pull you up from where your face has been planted against the mattress.

Now, you know that you’ve not been trying to hold your moans in much, and Jaehyun’s definitely not being quiet either, so you’re not too surprised when your eyes open as Jaehyun tugs on your hair, and you see that all of these sounds have drawn some attention.

Johnny and Mark stand watching in the doorway.

No orgies, your doctor’s voice echoes in your mind. She’d been joking, you know that, but right now, you don’t care about how serious or not she’d been. You just want. You don’t think you can handle three of them—sure, you’ve had more and worse before than just three at once, but it’s been a long time, and your body would definitely not be up to it, already after just the two orgasms back-to-back that Jaehyun gave you, you were feeling it. You can take maybe one or two more, but not more than that.

“Jae, please,” you moan, throwing your head back so you can see his face. “Please.”

He glances over at the two in the doorway. He jerks his head, and Mark and Johnny come closer. Mark’s gaze is fixed on Jaehyun’s cock disappearing inside you. Johnny’s watching the way Jaehyun’s fingers are knotted in your hair.

“Are you finally giving her the treat she deserves, Jae?” Johnny asks as he joins you on the bed, kneeling in front of you. “How does she feel?”

“Sweet.” Jaehyun’s hand winds tighter in your hair, drawing you up more until your back is pressed to his chest, and his lips brush your throat. “Our baby girl feels so sweet. Tastes sweet too.” His tongue swipes quickly at your skin.

Johnny starts touching you too; a hand between your legs to rub at your clit, another raised up to tweak one of your nipples. And when he leans in, his lips touching the other side of your neck from Jaehyun’s lips, you lose control of yourself.

You keen at the attention being laved on you, an orgasm rocking through you.

Jaehyun’s teeth close down on your sensitive skin. Johnny chuckles, continuing to rub your clit and kiss your neck as you keep shaking, your body too overstimulated now on your third orgasm, pressed between two boyfriends with them still touching you.

“Oh my God, it’s too much,” you moan, shaking. “Jaehyun, Johnny.”

“Guys.” For the first time since entering the room, Mark speaks. “Back off, look at her.”

It’s a lot but you’re still fine. It’s not more than you can handle, though you appreciate Mark’s concern. But you don’t appreciate when Johnny pulls away, when Jaehyun stops thrusting toward his own orgasm.

You shake your head. “No, keep going.” You reach back, fingernails digging into Jaehyun’s hip. “Please, Jaehyun, I told you I want you to cum in me. Keep going. I need it.”

“Love when you beg for it.” Jaehyun picks back up where he left off, chasing his orgasm, and it’s only another few moments before he’s cumming, the long-awaited heat of his orgasm spilling inside you. “Mmmh,” Jaehyun moans, “now you’re all mine, baby. Gonna give Mei a little sister or brother, right?” He kisses your neck and you shoulder, and as he pulls his hips back from yours, you can turn around in his arms, and he kisses you on the lips.

“Come on, when’s my turn?” Johnny asks, his voice teasing, his hands reaching for your hips. “I’ve missed you too.”

You break the kiss with Jaehyun, twisting around somewhat uncomfortably to bat Johnny’s hands away. “I can’t, Johnny. It’s already been too much, too quick. I shouldn’t have even done that much probably.” It’s not like that sex had been too wild or anything at all, just a bit rougher than the others have been since you were cleared for sex again, but you can already feel a dull ache setting into those muscles.

Johnny sighs and leans back against your pillows. You can see the bulge in the front of his pants, and it hurts you to know how much he wants you, to know that the most you can offer him right now is another handjob or a blowjob, but not what he wants. He looks at you for a long moment, considering, and then he sits up, pushes himself off the bed, and walks out the door.

You sink back against Jaehyun, and he wraps his arms around you. Mark’s still standing there, looking after Johnny, but as the door swings shut, Mark looks back at you and Jaehyun. You groan, reaching down to dip your fingers between your legs, the cum dripping out of you now. “I feel so gross now.”

Jaehyun lets go of you, flopping down onto his back, eyes fluttering shut. “We should take a nap. Mark, you joining?”

There’s just barely enough room for three people on your bed, but it doesn’t matter, because Mark shakes his head. “But if you feel gross, how does a bath sound?”

You nod.

Jaehyun makes a little noise, stretching out an arm to lay it over your lap possessively, keeping you there in bed with him.

Mark rolls his eyes a little. “You can join us, Jaehyun. That tub might be big enough to fit the three of us and your jealousy.”

Jaehyun opens his mouth to retort, but you quickly cover his mouth with your hand. “Let’s not argue. Let’s just relax with a soak in the bath, then we can go see what WinWin and Mei are up to.”

After Mark steps out to go run the bath, Jaehyun moves his arm away.

He’s lying there stark naked, not trying to cover up at all, and you once more find your gaze drawing attentively and appreciatively over his form from head to toe. But as you return to looking at his face, you find that he’s watching you, smiling and blushing ever-so-slightly.

“Enjoying the view?”

You reach over, pinching lightly one of his nipples. “Shut up. You know you’re handsome. I don’t need to tell you that. And also, you don’t need to act so jealously possessive when Mark offers me a bath, like you just fucked me so good, Jaehyun. If I thought I could’ve handled more I would have gladly begged you to keep going, would’ve let Johnny and Mark too.” You lean down so your face is right above his. Jaehyun blinks slowly, dazed by your sudden proximity, and he makes a soft pleasant humming sound when you kiss him. “Only would’ve let you cum in me, though,” you promise him.

Jaehyun grins, resting his hand against the back of your head as he brings you back down into another, longer kiss.

You’re still kissing when Mark pops his head out of the bathroom to tell you the bath is ready.

“Coming?” You ask Jaehyun.

He shakes his head, watching you slip off the bed. “Think I’ll go steal Mei from whoever’s got her. Maybe I’ll just go take a nap.” But he’s still in your bed when you close the bathroom door behind you.

The tub swirls with steam and bubbles, the air scented with vanilla. Mark’s already soaking in the tub, but he opens his eyes as you ease a foot into the water. “Where’s Jaehyun?” He asks, his eyes following each inch of your skin that sinks beneath the bubbles.

“Decided to go bother whoever has Mei.” You sigh as the bubbles brush your chin, the warm water enveloping you, already working magic to relax that ache you’re feeling. “This feels so nice.”

“It does.” Mark’s hand brushes your arm beneath the water, circling around so he can pull you closer and closer until you’re sitting with your back to his chest.

“This is nicer,” you sigh, leaning you head back as Mark kisses the side of your head. “Relaxing.”

His hand slides down to yours, twisting your fingers together underwater. You rest your head on his shoulder, his head rests against yours, and you let your eyes close, feeling safe and good, all wrapped up in warmth and Mark.

After a few moments, he starts humming, playing with your fingers. He brings your intertwined hands up out of the water, and you smile to yourself. Mark rubs his thumb back and forth and back and forth and again and again at the base of your third finger until you finally open your eyes, turn your head slightly, and you ask, “What are you doing?”

“Just thinking,” Mark answers. “Remembering the night I proposed to you, how quickly you shot me down.” He kisses your head, then says, “I still want to marry you, by the way. I know things have been.... a little different since Mei. I know she’s not mine, so proposing like I did back then was maybe a little silly, but it doesn’t change how I feel about you at all. I still love you as wildly as I have done since I met you and even more. I know that you would probably shoot me down in a heartbeat again if I tried to propose, but I’m just thinking about how I would still gladly spend forever with you and Mei.”

Mark lifts your hand up, kissing right there at the base of your finger where a ring would sit if you’d said yes to him.

Mei’s giggles quickly become your favorite sound in the universe. She giggles when Miso comes up to snuggle beside her. She giggles when her dads or the other guys play with her. She giggles when you talk to her in silly voices or when you blow raspberries on her belly. She smiles and makes babbling noises, such a happy baby.

“Mei-mei!” Ten coos, lifting her up. “How’s the happy little princess today?” He scrunches his nose at her adorably.

“She’s been fussy today, actually.” You’ve had her lying on a blanket on the floor in the living room while you sit nearby and fold laundry, and she’s been making little crying noises for the better part of an hour, but every time you’ve checked her diaper she’s been dry, and she’s not hungry either. You’ve tried holding her and talking to her, giving her her favorite new toy. Nothing had worked until you put YouTube on the TV and started playing videos of the guys—music videos, interviews, reality shows, videos from their channels.

They’ve all been gone all day. The 127 members, the Dreamies, and WayV were all out, and you don’t know the last time you were in the house without any of them, or if you’ve ever been there without them. It was strange, and maybe that’s what Mei had been picking up on. And now Ten’s the first one back.

“She seems good now.” Ten sits down on the sofa, sitting Mei back against his chest. She’s making little happy sounds, which only turn to giggles when Ten takes her hands and starts clapping them together between his. That entertains her for another minute or two before she starts getting whiny again.

Ten watches in surprise as you start playing one of WayV’s videos and Mei immediately calms down, her eyes watching the TV screen, transfixed.

“Honestly, I think she wants WinWin.” You sigh, folding the last of the clothes and sitting it on top of the neat pile you’ve made. “She’s only four months old, and already such a Daddy’s girl. I swear she already has some idea of the time he normally comes home, because she just starts to get so excited and looks at the door. And watch, when he starts talking.” You point at the video, and as WinWin appears and starts talking Mei makes such happy sounds.

Ten laughs. “Is it just him she does that for?”

You shrug. “Sometimes Jaehyun. I think it’s because they’re the ones always stealing her from everyone else. You know how possessive they both are of her.”

“And of you.” Ten bounces Mei a little in his lap. She’s got her hand shoved into her mouth, drooling around it, and Ten just watches her do it with amusement. “Johnny came to me a few days ago, complaining that you’d left him on the edge again. Something about Jaehyun calling you about Mei, interrupting what you were doing, then you left him like that?”

You groan. You know exactly what he’s talking about. A few days ago, Jaehyun had happily volunteered to babysit Mei to give you just a few hours to yourself to relax. That relaxing had consisted of you going to get a wax (just because Doyoung had eaten you out and afterwards commented that he missed the times when you would be so smooth down there) and a massage and a trim for your hair too. And when you got home, Jaehyun wasn’t finished having quality Mei time (a nap side-by-side on the floor; it was adorable and you snapped quite a few photos of them), so you climbed up the stairs to your bedroom, but before you went inside, Johnny had peered out of his room, saw the glowing happy state of you, and invited you inside.

You’d been excited to show off to him how soft and smooth you looked, and Johnny had been equally as excited to get to experience it. So he’d laid you back on his bed, touching and stroking you until your belly was on fire with lust, your pussy dripping, mind going fuzzy with just how much you needed Johnny to make you cum. He’d taken photos too, a few small video snippets as well, sending them into your groupchat with your boyfriends to show each of them what they were missing out on, and as he teased you with light brushes of his fingers over your clit, Johnny had read out the responses of what the others were saying.

By the time that Johnny was finally inside you, his big cock feeling so good, and his warm arms and body surrounding you, making you lowkey lose your mind at the all-encompassing feeling of Johnny Suh, you’d forgotten about everything but him.

Until there was a frantic knock on the door.

Both of you ignored it. Lips locked together, Johnny’s hips knocking you higher up the bed with your hand braced against the headboard to keep from ramming into it.

It took another few harried knocks on the door before Johnny grunted a clearly annoyed, “What?”

“It’s Mei,” Jaehyun said from outside the door. “She woke up crying and she feels a little warm, maybe feverish. Sorry to interrupt, but I don’t—“

He didn’t even get the chance to say anything else before you were shoving Johnny away from you, pulling clothes on that weren’t even yours, and you were out the door. Mei had been fine; it wasn’t a fever or anything, she was just a little warm and hungry, and by the time you got that sorted, you couldn’t even find Johnny to finish things off.

In the back of your mind, at the time, you had wondered if Jaehyun had just fibbed about Mei feeling feverish just to break up what was going on with you and Johnny. If he’d seen the photos and videos in the chat, if his jealousy had overwhelmed him enough to make up any excuse to get it to stop. You’d convinced yourself that that was ridiculous; Jaehyun seemed genuinely concerned that Mei might be sick.

But right now, Ten looks at you like he believes Jaehyun had done exactly what you were suspicious of.

“I thought Mei was sick, so I had to go take care of her, Ten.” You push to your feet, coming over to offer your hands to your daughter. She babbles excitedly as Ten hands her over to you. “It’s not like I could tell Jaehyun to just go watch her, make sure she didn’t get too high of a temperature while I stayed to finish Johnny off. And by the time I’d settled her down, I couldn’t find Johnny anywhere to pick back up or to even apologize.”

Ten nods. “Yeah, he was with me. Don’t worry. I took good care of him.” He grins mischievously. “But afterwards we were talking, and he said that kind of thing has been happening a lot. Him feeling left behind or left out. I think you two should talk.”

You think he’s right.

It’s hours later when Johnny gets home. Mei’s asleep upstairs; you’ve got the baby monitor beside you at the table while Chenle and Jisung argue over who gets the last ramen cup in the cabinet. Jungwoo, Mark, and Sungchan are playing video games together in the living room with Yuta and Taeil calling out advice and commentary from where they’re watching. You feel at peace again with the house back to normal, loud and busy and relatively chaotic.

Yuta greets Johnny as he walks through the door, and as he passes the doorway into the kitchen, you call his name. He passes by then backs up, pulling out a headphone. “Did you say my name?”

You nod. “Can I talk to you?”

Johnny pulls his headphones out of his ears, tucking them away in his pocket. “Of course.”

Yuta strides into the kitchen then, bypassing the two youngest members of the group who are now standing at the fridge together, and before either of them notice, he steals the ramen they’d been arguing over. You shake your head at him, and he just smiles.

“Yuta, can you take this.” You hand him the baby monitor. “Just keep an ear on it for Mei, please?”

Yuta glances between the baby monitor and your face and Johnny’s. Something clicks in his eyes, and his smile turns more suggestive. “Ah, alright. I’ve got our little angel. You two have fun.” He accepts the monitor, and walks back out of the room with the steaming ramen in the other hand.

Johnny follows you as you walk outside into their small yard. It’s deep night outside, quiet but the air still buzzes with the nature sounds of insects and the wind. It rustles your hair as you sit down on the bench, Johnny settling down beside you.

“What’s up?” He asks. You notice the way that he reaches down to the knee of his jeans, fiddling with the frayed hole there.

“I was talking with Ten earlier,” you say, “and he told me that last week when I skipped out on you, you went to him instead.”

Johnny nods. “Yeah, like, you don’t have a problem with that, right? Kun and Taeyong still fuck around with him too.”

“I know. I’m fine with that. But, Johnny, Ten said that you’re feeling left out in this relationship lately, and that’s what I want to talk about.” You reach over, laying your hand over his on his knee. “Why do you feel that way?”

Johnny’s quiet for a few seconds, looking at your hand on his, and then he lets out a short, sarcastic laugh. “I mean, it’s not a ridiculous way to feel right now, is it? Not baseless? I can count on one hand the number of times that I’ve had your wholly undivided attention, uninterrupted by someone else within the last, like, five months almost.”

“You mean since Mei was born?” You withdraw your hand. “Johnny, I’m sorry you feel that way, but you know I can’t just ignore my daughter, right? If she needs me, I have to go, because I’m her mother and that’s my responsibility.”

“Of course I get that. I know that you need to take care of her. It’s just fucking annoying when you leave me in the middle of something sexual.” Johnny argues, “Like, that time you gave me a handjob, and you definitely would’ve just left if I didn’t beg you to finish me off, and even then you did it so quick then just left. And when Jaehyun was fucking you, me and Mark walked in, got me so hard and then just told me to leave pretty much. Then there was the other day. And I get it, Mei needed you, but it just pissed me off that Jae interrupted, especially since it turned out that she was fine.”

You don’t know what to say. Those examples he gave you, two of those times it was because your daughter needed you, and the other time your body literally couldn’t take any more so there was nothing you could have done for him.

“And it just seems like you never have time for me anymore. There’s the sex stuff, but also, even when we’re together just talking or watching a movie or whatever it may be, I just feel like you’re not there with me. Like you’re thinking about something else, not listening to me or wanting to be there.” Johnny tilts his head back and looks up at the sky. “I love you, I really do, but lately it’s just felt like maybe I shouldn’t be here anymore. I want someone I can go have fun with and not have to worry about leaving me at a moment’s notice.”

“Well, I’m a mother, Johnny. That’s going to happen.” You tell him. “She comes first; she always will.”

“I know.” Johnny folds his arms in front of his chest. “So maybe we should end this. I thought that I was ready for a relationship like this, but now with all things considered – the other guys and Mei and everything – I think it’s too serious and too complex for me to be happy trying to keep doing this. Your attention is split too many different ways, and I hate ending it, because like I said, I do love you. But I... I just think that maybe we want different things.”

You look down at your hands, willing the tears not to flow, but you can already feel the hot tingle behind your eyes, the tightening in your throat. “You wanted a baby, Johnny. Do you remember that? We talked about it before I was pregnant. Hell, we talked about it while I was pregnant, when you were coming to the appointments with me, meeting my parents. You remember that, right? But now you’re saying that you can’t deal with having my attention split between you and her?”

“That’s not it.” Johnny’s voice drops low, offended and defensive as he says, “Not entirely. If it was just that, just split between me and Mei, I could handle that. But it’s the fact that you’re in love with all of us, that you’re dating all of us. That’s what I can’t deal with. You get that, right?”

You hate to admit it, but you do get it. This moment is strangely similar to when you and Lucas broke up. He had other reasons, mostly his growing feelings for Chaerin, but he also told you that one of the reasons was that he felt that your attention was too divided.

“I get it,” you agree. But you can’t bring yourself to look at Johnny.

“Are you mad at me?” Johnny asks after a few silent moments.

You bite your cheek, blink away the tears, and then you say, “Well, it’s not like I’m jumping for joy or anything over here. But I get it. I don’t like it, but not many people do like being broken up with.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes again. His hand rests briefly on your shoulder, and then he’s gone, leaving just the heat behind from his hand.

Kun’s the one that finds you a while later. You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting out there, but the light in the kitchen has gone out when you hear the door.

“There you are.” Kun steps out, closing the door behind him to come sit beside you. “I was starting to get a little worried when I couldn’t find you anywhere inside.” As soon as he sits down Kun wraps his arm around your shoulders, drawing you into his side, and you lean your head down on his shoulder. “I’m guessing that talk with Johnny didn’t go well?”

You start to lift your head, but Kun lays his hand on your hair, pressing you back down. “How did you know about that?” You ask him.

“Ten. He told me that he told you what Johnny had been saying, and that you two needed to talk.” He strokes your hair soothingly. “And when I got home earlier, Yuta had the baby monitor, and when I asked, he said you were out here talking with Johnny.”

“Yeah.” You sigh. It feels like there’s a weight on your chest that won’t go away. You hate this feeling, like maybe if you’d just done something different, maybe you could make everyone in this relationship happy. But as you’ve been thinking about this since Johnny left you out here, the only thing different you could come up with is just choosing one of them from the start; that or not getting pregnant, but you can’t bring yourself to regret that one bit at all.

“What happened? If you want to talk about it?” Kun asks.

You pull your head away from his hand slowly, and Kun moves to let you do so. He makes a little sound as you sink down, resting your head in his lap and taking his hand to bring it back to your hair. The bench is a little hard and uncomfortable to lie on like this, but you don’t really care too much.

“We broke up. I didn’t, like, come out here thinking that’s what was going to happen. I thought we’d just talk, come up with a compromise or something, and then go back inside happily.” You close your eyes tight. “But Johnny thinks that I’m juggling too many people in this relationship, that I don’t have enough time and attention for all of you, plus being Mei’s mom on top of all of that. And he’s right, I guess. That’s partially why Lucas left me, and I know things have probably gotten worse since I had Mei.”

Kun twirls your hair around one of his fingers. “A little bit, but I thought we all understood that you have to focus on her. We can handle ourselves. But Mei needs you entirely; she’s a baby. And we, or at least I, can see that you’re doing your best to be what all of us need you to be. Aren’t you exhausted?”

You rub your cheek against Kun’s leg, loving the soft feel of his pajama pants against your skin. “A little exhausted.”

“You need a vacation.” Kun suggests. “You barely leave the house, so you need to just get away, get out of the city. Probably get away from all of us.”

A laugh bubbles out of you, and you turn onto your back so you’re looking up at Kun. He’s smiling, eyes glinting in the dim light. “Right, get away from all of you. And what about Mei? Do you think I could leave her here for a week or even a few days? With all of you?” You laugh again. “I love all of you, and I know most of you are good with her, but really, Kun? If you want me to relax, leaving my daughter here in this house without me would almost be as bad as leaving her in a fraternity house.”

Kun frowns. “We’re not that bad.”

You lift a hand up to touch his cheek. “No, you’re not. I know I can trust a couple of you with her, but I still couldn’t leave her.”

The longest you’ve been away from Mei is about four hours, and even then, she was only about twenty minutes away from you. What Kun’s suggesting, leaving the city for a getaway would last much longer and put your farther away from her than you’ve ever been before.

“Take her with you, then.” Kun turns his head, brushing his lips to your hand. “You, her, WinWin. Take a little family trip. He should have a few free days coming up on his schedule. And don’t mind anyone getting jealous about it if you take WinWin with you. He’s her dad. I think the three of you deserve some quality time together.”

It does all sound like a very tempting idea, so you keep that little idea wrapped up nicely in your mind for a few days, coming back to it again and again every time that a stressor pops up in your life. Like when you bump into Johnny and his expression shifts into something that’s a combination of sadness and concern and apology. After the third time of that happening, you decide maybe taking some time away from the house would be a good thing.

You bring it up to WinWin on a Tuesday morning.

He’s just woken up, rolled out of bed, and strolled upstairs into your bedroom. His hair’s still a wild mess, standing up in various direction, and looking especially silly because of the recent dyeing it had. You laugh and reach up to smooth it down as he flops down into your bed, dragging the sheets up. Miso hisses as the sudden sheet movement disrupts him bathing himself at the foot of the bed, and he stalks off, his tail held high, looking back once before he disappears out the door to give WinWin a disgruntled look.

“I want to go back to sleep,” he mumbles into your pillow. “But Hendery wouldn’t stop being loud. I get that he isn’t the one who had a schedule running into early this morning, but come on? Being awake this early?” WinWin smashes his face into your pillow, pulls the blanket up over his head entirely, and falls silent.

“You have a few days cleared on your schedule soon, right?” You lift the edge of the blanket so he can breathe. The lump under the blanket moves to signal a yes. “Do you want to get away and relax with me somewhere that’s not here?”

WinWin emerges from the blanket, squinting against the light. “What?”

“Kun suggested it the other night. He thinks you, me, and Mei should get away. Well, initially he just said me, but when I laughed about leaving Mei here in this house alone with all of you, he amended it to include you and her too.” You quickly reach up, trying to push his hair flat again, unsuccessfully. “What do you think?”

WinWin nods. “Sounds good to me.”

And three days later, you and WinWin pack up Mei and a weekend bag, and drive away to a beach a few hours away. You’re not there necessarily for the beach—after all Mei is only a few months old and you definitely don’t want to expose her to the sun or to the heat for too long—though it does make a very pretty view from the window of your hotel room. The pretty blue water lapping against the beach below makes you pause at the window, holding Mei who also looks out at the water transfixed (or maybe she just sees her reflection in the window and wonders who that other baby is), pressing her little handprints to the glass.

“Do you remember the last time we came to the beach?” WinWin asks, sneaking up behind you. He drops a quick kiss to your cheek, then brings a hand up to cradle Mei’s head.

“Mhmm.” You hum, and Mei waves a hand at the window, fingers leaving streaks on the glass. “I’m pretty sure last time we came to the beach is probably when we made her.” You stroke her soft cheek. “That was such a good day.”

WinWin laughs, and Mei turns her head to look up at him with her sparkly dark eyes. “I remember that day, like, I was joking around with Taeyong and Hendery, and then I looked over at you and Dejun sitting on the end of that dock. You were just sunbathing, and then the next time I looked over you were making out, straddling him, God, it was really sexy. I never pegged him as being the type to mess around in public like that, but neither was I really until right then. I still can’t believe we did that out in broad daylight where anyone could’ve seen us. Do you really think that’s the time that we made her?”

You shrug. “Probably. That’s definitely around the time that she was conceived. And Mei’s our little sea star. She loves her baths, and when I play white noise to help her sleep, the ocean waves are her favorite. Of course, that could all be a coincidence.”

WinWin smiles as Mei starts making nonsensical babbling sounds, kicking her legs as she looks back out the window at the beach and the people milling around in the sand. “We really did something good, didn’t we? Making her.”

“Absolutely.” She certainly wasn’t planned, but you don’t regret one thing about it. You and WinWin talk about this semi-regularly, both of you just absolutely enchanted watching your daughter exist, amazed that she’s the product of both of you. “And to think you almost didn’t come with us to the beach that day.”

WinWin shakes his head. “I don’t want to think about that. Mei-mei, you want daddy to hold you?” He repeats it in Mandarin, and as he says her full name Mingmei, she lifts her arms to him, so you pass her over. WinWin cuddles her, continuing to speak to her quietly as she gazes up at his face and clings tightly to one of his fingers.

It’s the next day when the three of you go down to the beach early on in the day, before the sun’s really beaming down, but nevertheless you’ve slathered Mei with some baby-safe sunscreen, you have a little adorable hat on her head shielding her from the weak sun rays. It’s not really warm enough to get in the water, but it’s nice enough that you and WinWin can sit on the sand for a while, put Mei’s toes in the sand, and eventually you carry her to the water’s edge and hold her right there, her little feet curl up as a cool wave washes over them.

“Does she not like it?” WinWin asks, chuckling as Mei lets out a sad little cry just once.

“You’re not too sure about that are you, Mei?” You laugh. She puts her feet back down after a minute, just to have another wave crash nearby, racing thinly over the sand, covering her feet. She watches the water carefully, and the next time it happens she giggles, quickly adapting to the strangeness of the water.

You don’t spend all day at the beach. There’s a temple nearby up atop a tall hill, so you put on a baby carrier strapped to your chest, fit Mei snugly in it, and you and WinWin go exploring with Mei along for the ride. It’s a nice walk, pretty out, and as you follow a path along the seaside, the breeze blows salty spray up at your faces. Once you’ve reached the peak of the hill, Mei is ready to be free of the prison you’ve got her strapped into on your chest, ready to be set free and held by her dad.

It’s breezy and cool, relaxing here atop the hill, looking down at the waves below. There aren’t too many people up here, so you decide to take a seat on one of the benches overlooking the sea, unpacking a little picnic.

WinWin sits across from you on the bench, both of you facing each other, and he holds Mei in his lap, her sitting up against his chest, waving her hands excitedly as you pull out a bottle you’ve kept chilled with your food. When you try to get her into your arms so you can feed her with the bottle, Mei just whines in protest, clearly wanting to stay with her dad.

WinWin, to be fair, tries his best to not grin in victory as you hand the bottle over to him so he can feed her.

“You know I carried you for nine months, right?” You tell her. “But he’s your favorite?”

WinWin just laughs, and as you watch him laughing and smiling, feeding your daughter, you fully understand why he’s her favorite. Why wouldn’t he be?

You take photos of them together, sweet snapshots of memory as the day goes on. WinWin feeding her, him holding her on his shoulders (you were both surprised and pleased just a few days before as she’d sat upright so well by herself), and even a photo of them looking out at the water with their faces side-by-side as WinWin talked to her in a gentle voice. But as the day goes on Mei starts to grow sleepy and fussy, crying loud enough that heads in the crowd turn to look, so you decide to go back to the hotel.

You sit out on the balcony together, the door cracked open behind you so you can hear if Mei starts crying inside. WinWin stands against the railing, and you stand beside him, your head on his shoulder.

“This is nice.” He sighs. “I don’t get many vacations, not many trips where I can just get away from all the cameras and everything.”

“Nice to get to relax some, isn’t it?” You turn your head and kiss his shoulder. “At least one good thing’s come out of Johnny and I breaking up.”

WinWin makes a soft sound of agreement. “We all knew this wasn’t going to be easy. From the start, we’ve all known that we couldn’t all stay here, doing this with you. I remember after we all found out that Doyoung had kissed you, we thought that was going to be the end, that you’d chosen him. But then a few days later Taeyong was bragging you’d kissed him. For a long time, this didn’t seem, like, real—that you chose all of us, that we were doing a relationship like this, and even when I finally realized that this was happening.... I definitely didn’t think that we’d end up here.”

“What, you didn’t imagine that all of our fun and fucking would lead to Mei?” You glance back over your shoulder. She’s asleep in a little portable playpen in a clear line of sight to you.

“Something like that.” WinWin’s voice sounds strange, and it’s only when he brushes your hair back behind your ear that you look up at him. “I love you. I’m so glad that we have Mei, even if the circumstances were kinda unconventional. But you’re happy, aren’t you? With Mei, with me?”

The longing in his voice, in his touch, warms your heart, and you lean in to his touch. “I am happy, Sicheng.”

You tilt your head to look him in the eye, and then he’s leaned in and is kissing you. The kiss is soft, tender, filled with every ounce of that longing that you’d just heard in his voice. You feel positively light and warm, so you let him guide you back inside. The balcony door slides shut behind you both, and you move past the playpen where Mei sleeps soundly, back into the bedroom. You let him peel your clothes away, kissing down your neck and shoulders and chest.

“You smell like coconut,” he murmurs as he kisses down your body, nose skimming between your breasts. “Mmm, love it.”

It’s like you’re drunk on the sun-warm heat of WinWin, the summer smell of sunshine in his hair when he’s kissing you on the lips again, the way that having him inside you and all around you makes you forget that it’s the tail end of summer and not the highest hottest part. You feel so good as WinWin makes love to you, both of you fallen into this high, dreamy haze together.

Even in the aftermath, sweaty and sticky skin pressed together, you can’t get enough of kissing him, his body still tucked between your legs, your fingers tangled in his hair as he lays against your chest.

“Mmm, god,” WinWin moans softly, kissing softly beneath your jaw, down the side of your throat, and retracing his steps to your lips. You smile into the kiss, giggling a bit as the way that his fingers brush over your ribs tickles. WinWin smiles, kisses you once again, and then leans up, breaking the kiss. He just looks down at you, and as you blink your eyes open, WinWin says, “Marry me?”

“What?” You trail your fingers over his miles of exposed skin. “Like, right now?”

He shrugs. “Whenever. I love you, and we have Mei, and I just want to marry you.” He kisses you again, but you put a hand to his shoulder, pressing him back.

“Dong Sicheng, are you serious?”

The warm glow pulses all around you, threatening to collapse or explode. The idea of what he’s proposing—marriage to him, a future with him as your husband and Mei’s father—it excites you, but terrifies you in equal measure. If you say yes to him, then what about the others? It’d be like a slap in the face. You love WinWin, of course you do, but you love them too.

You think of Mark, his underprepared proposal nearly a year ago, the hurt in his eyes when you’d told him no, but the persistent hope and love, the soft way that he traces a line around your ring finger when he holds your hand. You think of Jaehyun, a man so full of love and jealousy. You think of Taeil who looks at Mei as if maybe she could really be his daughter. You think of all of them.

“I am.” WinWin sits up, breaking contact with you, and the cool air floods in against your skin. “I want to marry you, but I know that you’re not going to tell me yes. Not now, anyway. But I just thought I should put that intention out there, let you know where I see this relationship going. I don’t expect you to actually tell me yes, so don’t worry your pretty head about it too much. Okay?”

He leans in, kisses your forehead, and then he’s slipping away, dragging his shorts back up, and he’s out of the room before you have the chance to say anything.

The rest of the vacation is very nice and relaxing, even after the slight awkwardness following WinWin’s proposal. Nevertheless, by the time you’re returning to Seoul, walking through the door of the big house with Mei in your arms, her fingers tugging at your hair, you’re pleased to be back.

The warmth of the beach faded quickly on the way back to Seoul where a chill has set in as the season turns over to autumn. As soon as you’re inside the house, Jaehyun, Taeil, and Taeyong are there, cooing at Mei, offering to take her from you. She goes easily into Taeyong’s arms, and he sweeps her away, playing with her and talking at her in a sweet baby voice.

Xiaojun’s there when you go back outside to help WinWin bring in the bags, and he pulls you quickly into a hug, tucking his face into your shoulder. You wrap your arms back around him, squeezing tightly.

Your reunion with most of your boyfriends goes as such, a warm hug, a murmured “I missed you,” a passionate kiss that gets booed and noises of disgust made at it. The last reunion is with Jungwoo as he gets home late from a schedule and comes into your room to use your shower, then crawls into bed with you and Mark, snuggling in between both of you.

“Where’s Mei?” He asks, casting one leg over yours, slinging an arm over Mark.

“Jaehyun and Doyoung are hoarding her,” Mark mumbles, pushing Jungwoo’s arm away. “How did the photoshoot go today?”

“Fine.” Jungwoo sighs, turning over so he’s on his back instead of his stomach. “They really liked Shotaro.”

You look at him, at the ever-so-slight downturn of his lips. “I’m sure they loved you too, Jungwoo. Like, yeah, Shotaro’s a cutie, but you....” You bite your lip and give him a once-over. “Very sexy. Sex appeal sells more than cuteness, you know. I know for sure your fans will buy up anything that’s got you looking sexy on the cover.” He’d looked so stunning when he walked into your room, his hair and makeup still done up from the shoot, and right now it’s all gone, but he is stretched out in your bed wearing only the towel around his waist.  

Maybe you reach out to touch him then, unable to hold yourself back when he’s lying there looking so tempting.

Jungwoo laughs at the ridiculously horny look you’re giving him. “Didn’t WinWin give you any sex while you were away? You haven’t looked this needy since before Mei, probably.”

“We did have sex. Several times. Should I tell you about them?” You can’t help it if you’re horny. Maybe that’s a good sign that your body is returning to how it was before the pregnancy, your libido skyrocketing again.

Mark leans up, resting his head on his hand as he watches your hands wander over Jungwoo’s chest, watches the way that Jungwoo’s nipples perk up, the way that Jungwoo bites his lip as you pinch at one of his nipples. You start telling them both about your fun on your little trip, continuing to touch Jungwoo as you do.

Mark just watches and listens, drinking in everything that’s happening. He watches you eventually swing your leg over Jungwoo’s lap, situating yourself right over the bulge that’s risen under the towel. He watches Jungwoo strip you of your shirt and bra; he moans a little as Jungwoo loses the towel and pulls you down, filling you with his cock. Mark moans again as Jungwoo starts touching your boobs, nuzzling against them, and then closing his lips around a nipple as you grind down on his erection. Jungwoo alone of your boyfriends is really into this; the others that tasted your milk thought it was okay or thought it was gross, but Jungwoo just genuinely loves doing this, tasting it on his tongue any chance he gets.

Jungwoo laves all of his attention on one, suckling as you ride him slowly. Then his other hand rises up to your other breast, the one closer to Mark, just massaging, his fingers occasionally tweaking your nipple.

And if Mark makes any sound you don’t hear it, but then he’s right there, head in front of your chest, tongue testing as milk leaks from your nipple while Jungwoo massages. Just as the first time it had been strangely very hot to have a boyfriend breastfeeding from you, so is it now, but multiplied as you’ve got two of them doing this.

As Mark grows more confident, he knocks Jungwoo’s hand away, and Jungwoo drops both of his hands to your hips, encouraging you to ride him faster. Both of them keep their mouths on your breasts even as you start fucking yourself on Jungwoo, feeling your orgasm building, getting closer. And then Mark’s hand slips down to your clit.

The orgasm bursts like a bubble of pleasure popped.

You shudder in their arms, quaking and moaning. Mark pulls his mouth from your tit, licking his lips.

“Good, Mark?” You ask after you catch your breath. You slump forward against Jungwoo. “Did you like that?”

Mark nods, looking a little dazed as if caught off guard by how much he’d liked it. You giggle, reaching to pull him in for a kiss, but just as you do, Jungwoo tips you backwards.

He drags your legs up around his hips, fucking into you now at his own pace, needing his own orgasm after he’s felt you cumming around him. Mark falls down beside you, happily seeking your kiss, swallowing down all of the moans that Jungwoo fucks out of you.

“Mark,” you sigh, “please. Please, let me help you feel good too.” Your hand searches down his body, looking for the spot where his shirt gives way to skin, so you can push your hand inside his shorts. “Mark, mm, please.”

Jungwoo nails a spot inside you that makes your eyes roll with pleasure, your hands grapple at the waistband of Mark’s shorts.

“You want my cock, baby?” Mark rolls away from you, getting off the bed so he can strip off his shirt and shorts, and when his weight next settles beside you, he’s naked, jerking his hand over his cock. “Open up, baby.”

Mark feeds you his cock, thrusting gently at first, his tip bulging your cheek, but you turn your head, breathe through your nose and let your jaw go slack, encouraging him to use your throat.

Neither of them are much for dirty talk, but as Jungwoo’s pace picks up to almost a brutal speed, you hear him start talking to Mark about you. “God, look at her, all open and pretty and wet for us, just a dripping fucktoy for both of us.”

“She’s our pretty slut again,” Mark says, thrusting down your throat, pinching one of your nipples. “Taking two cocks at once. When was the last time you did that, baby?”

It hasn’t been that long, not that you would tell Mark that even if you could right now, but the way that he’s now fucking your face makes it a little difficult to even draw breath, let alone attempt to speak.

Jungwoo cums a moment later, spilling his load inside you, but he keeps thrusting with his thumb on your clit until you experience your second orgasm of the night. He pulls out and leaves you and Mark, not that Mark notices really, too absorbed in fucking your face, feeling you moan and gag around him.

When Mark cums, he pulls back so just his tip is between your lips, and he looks down so he can see your eyes as you suck and flick your tongue over the slit on his tip. His hips just barely press forward, only the shallowest of thrusts between your lips, and he cums over your tongue, and you can feel just a bit of his cum dripping from the corner of your mouth.

Mark moans, swearing in at least two different languages, and after a moment he falls away from you, sinking back into his comfortable spot on the bed from earlier. You sit up, using your thumb to push what you’d spilled back into your mouth. Mark looks up at you as you straddle him, as you lean in to kiss him. He opens his mouth to your kiss, and makes a startled yet aroused sound as you let his cum leak from your mouth into his. But he takes it, kissing you with his cum passed between your mouths. It’s gross and dirty, but it’s something you’ve thought about doing before; you’re just surprised that Mark’s going along with it.

He swallows when you break the kiss, sitting up just a little so you can see his face.

Mark wrinkles his nose adorably. “That was gross. Does it always taste like that?”

You laugh and kiss his cheek. “Usually.”

Jungwoo returns a moment later, looking freshly rinsed clean, and he crawls back into bed with a damp cloth to wipe your face and chest and thighs down.

“Messy girl,” he teases as he watches you wipe between your own legs at where his cum is leaking out.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Mark mumbles, but Jungwoo’s already moving back off the bed, taking the cloth with him back to the bathroom. “Filthy, messy girl. Spitting my cum back into my mouth.”

He doesn’t sound like he didn’t like it, though.

You snuggle up against Mark’s side, your cheek on his shoulder, and Jungwoo cuddles up behind you, drawing the blankets up to cover all three of you. “Goodnight,” he whispers, kissing the back of your shoulder, “You know we love you, right? That we didn’t mean those things we said.”

You hum. “But I am a slut for all of you. I accepted that a long time ago.”

Mark pets your hair. “You’re an angel. Just go to sleep, babe.”

Several hours later you wake in the half-light of dawn in your bedroom. The door is cracked open a bit, letting in a little light from the hallway, and a nightlight glows in the corner, all of this allowing you enough light to see that Mei’s in her bed sound asleep. But it takes you another second to realize that Jungwoo is gone, that Mark is sitting up on the opposite side of the bed from you whispering to Doyoung.

“Doyoung?” You mumble, rolling over fully, stretching your arms above your head. “What are you doing? Where’d Jungwoo go?”

Mark leans over, kisses your forehead. “Go back to sleep. Jungwoo just felt like there wasn’t enough room with all three of us.” He brushes his fingers through your hair for another moment, and then your eyelids sink shut again.

The next time you wake, it’s much later. The sun is shining through the windows, Mark is asleep once more beside you. Taeil is sitting in the rocking chair, holding Mei and giving her a bottle. You almost feel a sense of déjà vu to a few months ago, though back then you’d woken in the middle of the night to this similar situation.

“Good morning,” you yawn, sitting up and stretching your arms above your head. “I didn’t even hear her cry out.”

Taeil shakes his head. “She didn’t. Jungwoo said you’d probably be pretty tired this morning, so I just came in to check on her. She just woke up a few minutes ago.”

You nod, and then look around, trying to find your phone, but it’s not on the nightstand where you would normally leave it.

“Why don’t you go shower?” Taeil suggests. “Lucas ordered in some breakfast for everyone.”

“Why?” You stand up, dragging the top blanket with you to keep your body covered.

Taeil shrugs. “I think he lost a bet yesterday or something. But go shower.” He tilts his head toward the door to your bathroom. “If you hurry there might still be some left.”

So you do go shower off, and when you come back out, Taeil’s gone but Mark is sitting in bed, his legs spread in a V with Mei lying on her back between them as he plays peek-a-boo with her.

You walk over to the nightstand to grab your phone, then remember that it’s not there. So you start looking in the bedsheets, then you crouch down to look under the bed.

“What are you doing?” Mark asks.

“Looking for my phone. I was going to send my mom some pictures from the trip.” You sweep your arm under the bed, only coming out with a pair of panties you thought you’d lost ages ago. You toss them toward the wash basket and then stand up, looking around, hoping that your phone will catch your eye from somewhere unexpected. “Have you seen it?”

Mark stands up, hoisting Mei up into his arms, and instantly she’s resting her head on his shoulder in a way that is absolutely one of the most adorable things. If she loves her dad the most, then Mark is a close second tied with Jaehyun. “Nope. Maybe it’s a sign that you should be away from your phone today. Did Taeil tell you about Lucas buying breakfast? I think he got some of those bubble waffles you’ve been wanting to try.”

You let it go for the time being. You know your phone is somewhere here in the house; you had it just last night while showing the boys some photos and videos, and now you’re just not sure where it’s gotten to. So you follow Mark downstairs to the kitchen.

Jaemin and Renjun are in there when you, Mark, and Mei walk in. They stay to hang out, playing with Mei to make her laugh while you and Mark eat breakfast, and then Mark disappears for a bit, and you give Mei a bath, play with her by giving her tickles and kisses, stretching her arms above her head and cycling her legs as you get her dressed. She smells clean and perfect, just a happy ball of sunshine as you bounce her in your arms as you walk around the house looking for your phone wherever it might be.

The house is oddly quiet. Most of the guys are gone though you can hear Jisung and Hendery playing video games downstairs. Eventually you walk into the room Doyoung, Taeil, Yuta, and Mark share, though right now only Doyoung is in there, curled up on his bed watching a drama, looking sleepy.

“Hey.” He sits up abruptly, pausing the show.

“Hey,” you reply. But you don’t stop to chat, you start moving around the room, nudging aside bags and piles of clothes, flipping the sheets on Yuta’s bed with one hand, moving Taeil’s pillows around. When you turn back to Doyoung he’s watching you with a confused expression. You sigh. “You haven’t seen my phone, have you? I know I had it last night, but I can’t find it anywhere this morning.”

Doyoung looks back at the drama. “No, I haven’t seen it. I’m sure it’ll turn up. Miso probably stole it. You know your cat is a real thief, right?” He glances back over at you. “Yesterday I caught him stealing a pair of my socks, and Taeil said he thought he saw him eyeing up that handstitched baby blanket from your mom. It’s like he’s nesting somewhere in the house.” He fiddles with his sleeve, and when his phone lights up beside his thigh with a notification, a thought enters your mind.

You lean closer, reaching for his phone. “Can I just use your phone to call mine?”

Doyoung snatches his phone away. “No.” He hides his phone on the opposite side of the bed.

Mei makes bubbly noise, blowing at her lips while she clings to your shirt as you try to reach Doyoung’s phone again. He moves it even farther out of your reach.

You stand up straight, shifting Mei slightly. “Doyoung, what the hell? Just let me see your phone.”

He shakes his head. His grip on his phone is so tight that his knuckles lose all their color. The screen lights up again from between his fingers, and you can just make out the sight of multiple messages coming through. And in the silence of this standoff you hear a quiet buzzing coming at the same time from beneath his bed.

Doyoung’s not fast enough to stop you as you crouch down and dig a hand beneath his bed, coming out with your phone in your hand.

“Wow, that’s crazy. How did that get there?” Doyoung asks in a very put-on voice, his look of surprise very clearly fake.

You frown at him as you rub the screen of your phone against your shirt to clean it a bit. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on? Or do I need to look at this first?” You wave your phone, and at that moment, Doyoung reaches out and snatches it from you, hiding it right back beside his phone. “Doyoung. Seriously.”

You can feel Mei drooling through the shoulder of your shirt, but you don’t even care.

Doyoung shakes his head. “I just thought you could use some time away from your phone today.”

“Why don’t I believe you?” You readjust your hold on your daughter. “Are you really just going to lie to me like this?”

He shakes his head again, looking at you for a few long moments in silence as the phones continue to buzz periodically beside him. And eventually Doyoung sighs. He pushes away from his blankets, standing up in front of you, and then he puts a hand to your shoulder and presses you to sit down on his bed.

“The fans know about you and WinWin. Someone posted photos and videos of the two of you together on your trip. They got you and him and Mei looking like a happy little family, and this time I don’t think there’s any denying it like our team did last time.” Doyoung clears his throat. “And either that same sasaeng or a different one must’ve been outside here yesterday when you got home. There are photos of you and Xiaojun hugging. People are bringing up those old pictures and videos like they did last time. It’s a whole fucking mess, and I didn’t want you to see any of that.”

Suddenly the blurry memory from early that morning of Doyoung in your room whispering to Mark makes sense. The odd behavior of all of your boyfriends so far today, like the way Mark and Taeil had both tried to distract you when you were looking for your phone.

“We all think that you shouldn’t leave the house again for a bit. Like, fans are going crazy.” Doyoung’s hand massages your shoulder gently. “Like last time, there’s fans defending you and us, but there’s others too. I don’t think you need to see any of that.” He sinks down to kiss you gently, soothingly on the forehead. “We just want to protect you.”

You’ve been through all of this before, so this time it seems a little easier to handle. You can’t blame Doyoung and the others for wanting to keep you from seeing the things that are being said online. You even manage to keep yourself from looking at social media after you leave Doyoung’s room with your phone back in your possession. Well, at least for a little while.

Eventually you do look. You see fans talking about being so mad that sasaengs are camped out in front of the house. You see long threads full of the same pictures from before, with several more from your vacation with WinWin, plus several others that you recognize of you with the other boys over the last month or so.

You put Mei down for a nap and sit in the rocking chair beside her bed with your knees drawn up to your chest as you scroll through Twitter looking at all of this. You only get up to close the curtains over your window because even though your bedroom is on the top floor of the house and facing away from the street, you can’t help but feel surveilled. You see someone reposted some photos from one of those sasaengs that are apparently camped in front of the house, and you almost throw your phone away because you can hear that Ten, Johnny, and Taeyong just got home and those are the photos that are already being circulated.

This goes on for a few days. No statements put out by the boys or the company seem to sway the fans, and you can barely eat or sleep. You can’t leave the house. There are stalkers outside day and night, and you leave the curtains drawn on every window so you can at least walk around inside the house without feeling like they can see you.

On the morning of the third day, as the sun rises you’re sitting in the kitchen, watching Hendery sleepily eat a bowl of cereal. You haven’t eaten since about midday the previous day. You lost any appetite you might have had when one of the Dream members came home and a sasaeng nearly attempted to come in with him.

Since then their company did at least hire a security guard to stand in front of the house’s door, but your stomach is still tied in so many nauseous knots.

The front door of the house opens, sounding loud in the quiet munching of Hendery’s breakfast, and your heart sinks into the bare cavern of your belly, anxiety knotting your nerves. But then the door closes, and Taeyong calls out just loud enough for you to hear, “It’s just me.”

You hate that he knows that you’re this nervous about everything that he has to announce himself. He pops his head into the kitchen a moment later, gaze sliding from you to Hendery and then back again. He sighs at the look on your face, then comes closer. Taeyong asks, “Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Did you?” You retort. He already knows the answer, you can see it written on his face that he wouldn’t believe you even if you said yes. “No, Taeyong. I haven’t slept. Every time I close my eyes, I just think about one of them sneaking inside and coming upstairs.”

Taeyong strokes your hair. “We have the guard. He won’t let them in. He barely let me pass by.” He smiles lightly in an attempt to brighten your mood, but it doesn’t work. “Babe, I can see that you’re beyond stressed about all of this. If you need to, go stay with your parents for a while, until this all blows over again.”

“But what if it doesn’t blow over.” You swat his hand away, suddenly overwhelmed by irritation at the patronizing way he’s petting you. “Your fans have a long memory. They’re not quick to forgive either. And some of their theories online are disturbingly accurate. They hate me.”

“They don’t even know you.”

“Well, they hate me for being happy in this relationship with all of you.” You fold your arms over your chest and stare down into Hendery’s cereal bowl until you hear the sound of Taeyong walking away.

Hendery taps his spoon on the side of his bowl for a few seconds before he clears his throat. “Are you unhappy?”

You almost roll your eyes. Of course you’re not happy right now.

“I mean, like, in this relationship. With all of us.” He sits the spoon down and pulls his hands back into his lap. “I know it’s unusual and that in itself makes this more stressful. I guess, what I mean to ask is, do you think you’d be happier if this relationship were more normal? If there were less of us?”

You look slowly into his eyes. “What?”

“I haven’t really been in this since Mei was born. I think, for me, what you and I have has mostly been about sex. At least, as I’ve been thinking about it recently, that’s how I think it’s been.” He nibbles nervously at his bottom lip. “Right now, there’s a lot going on, and it’s stressful for you and for me, so maybe if I back out of this relationship it will help a little bit.”

You want to say, “Right, because piling heartbreak on top of the rumors and hate is going to help.” But you don’t. You keep quiet because maybe he’s right.

You haven’t had Hendery around much since Mei was born. It’s not like you didn’t invite him to be around, he just doesn’t come around. He’s there, but not really. You know he’d been somewhat excited about you having a baby, had been there for you as he believed that she could have been his, but once he’d seen her with his own eyes and held her in his arms, once he’d learned that she shared none of his DNA, that’s when you’d felt him withdrawing somewhat.

And you know he’s right about the sex. Yes, you’d had your romantic moments together. Shared intimate date nights, soft ‘I love you’s between kisses, and many of the things you’d shared with your other boyfriends, but truly from the start this thing between you and Hendery had been sexual. And sex with Hendery was something that you hadn’t had in months.

“I’m sorry.” You duck your head as you apologize. You’ve gone months ignoring Hendery’s sexual needs. “God, I’m a really bad girlfriend, aren’t I? You guys keep breaking up with me and telling me how good I am at ignoring you, making you feel left out. And you’re all right.”

“I’m not blaming you for that!” Hendery quickly says. “You’re busy! You’re a mom now. You have all of us to pay attention to. And for so long you couldn’t have sex after Mei, and like I said, I really feel like that was a key point to our relationship. It might sound bad to say this now, but like, our relationship has been over for months now, and we’ve just been pretending that it’s not. But I think it’s time that we finally put the end stamp on it.”

So you do, and you feel that stamp like a dull bruise on your heart.

But he’s right. Things between you and him have been over for months. Similar to you and Ten, the end of this branch of your polyamorous relationship has withered and faded away.

And as you rise from the breakfast table, hoping to go upstairs to maybe catch a few moments of sleep, you feel the instability of this whole relationship around you. You’ve lost four of your boyfriends in what feels like such a short time. And you’re afraid that they won’t be the only ones.

Ten looks ridiculous, cradling Miso like a baby in one arm, holding Mei in the other, grinning and bouncing them.

It’s been almost a week now since the rumors started up again, and they’ve died down some, but there’s still a lot of attention on you and the boys.

“Why don’t you just marry one of them?” Ten asks as you voice your worries aloud. “I mean, get married, admit that you’ve got a baby, it’s a little less than traditional but it’s not like it’s not something that’s happened before. Other idols have announced all of those things after the fact. That would get the fans to butt out, but right now they’re just being nosy, wanting to know the details of what exactly is going on. They want to understand your role with all of us. I’m sure Mark would be glad to do the honor of marrying you.”

You sigh before admitting, “Sicheng has also proposed to me.”

Ten makes a noise of surprise that startles Miso who twists his way out of Ten’s arms and drops to the floor. Ten quickly and carefully makes sure that he’s got a good hold on Mei and that Miso didn’t scrape her or anything in his escape.

Once he’s comforted himself that she’s fine (as if she wouldn’t have immediately begun squalling if Miso had caught her with a claw), Ten stares at you. “He proposed? And you said no? Also, since when do you call him Sicheng?”

“Since I realized it was weird calling my boyfriend, the father of my daughter by WinWin when that’s not his real name.”

“But you still call Hendery by his name, not his actual name. And Lucas.” Ten points out.

Your heart gives an odd little beat. “Yeah, but neither of them are my boyfriends anymore. And besides, I call Xiaojun Dejun sometimes.” You start listing off all of your boyfriends, suggesting you call them by their actual names rather than the ones you and pretty much everyone else use for them.

Ten waves his hand at you to make you stop. “You’re just doing all of this to gloss over the fact that WinWin proposed to you, and you turned him down. Do you just not want to get married or something? Is that what this is? Because that right there is a very good option: the father of your child, extremely in love with you. He’s the perfect solution to everything going on right now. Most of the fans already believe that WinWin’s definitely the one that you’re dating in the group.”

“Well, they’re not wrong. They just don’t know about all of the others. And all of the others are exactly why I can’t marry him. It’s not fair.” You thought about all of this the first time when Mark proposed, rethought it when WinWin proposed. “And can’t you just imagine what a slap in the face that would be to Mark since I turned him down? How Jaehyun would react?”

Ten rolls his eyes now. “You can’t live your life worrying about how Jaehyun’s going to react to stuff. He can be very dramatic, but I promise you, babe, he just wants you to be happy. That’s what we’ve all ever wanted for you. For sweet, sweet Mingmei.” He looks down at Mei then, making a silly face that makes her burst into giggles.

“I don’t want to get married to any of them yet. Not when I don’t know.” You clench your fists against your belly where the knots that have been there for a week still grow even tighter.

“When you don’t know what?” Ten asks, glancing up from Mei.

You shrug. “Everything. How everything will play out.”

Over the last week, especially these last few days since you and Hendery had the quiet breakup in the kitchen, things have felt so odd and unstable. Almost all of them dance around you and your feelings, it’s only your exes who seem to be perfectly fine, like Ten and Johnny. You can feel the tension in the air every time you pass one of your boyfriends, like the crackling of static electricity in the air before a storm.

You’re just waiting for the first rumble of thunder.

Weeks pass with nothing.

Then late October arrives, the days cool and overcast, but your days with your boyfriends and your daughter as she hits 6 months feel bright and sunny, watching her grow and excel every day.

But that was just the silence before the storm.

Clouds gather and the static feeling grows in the air as the silence surrounding this whole relationship breaks after so long.

Someone (“an insider” according to articles being posted online) spilled some details of the relationship, talking about how the members of NCT are all involved in some way or another with you. They don’t list your name in the articles, not that it matters because fans dig up your private information, your social media and things like that before you have the chance to prevent it.

It wouldn’t have been such a big deal, just another rumor to brush under the rug. Except that this insider had really offered up very specific details. They cite the time you went to America to join 127 on tour. How you broke up with them, only to come back a few months later and then miraculously wound up pregnant just weeks later.

The article makes it sound like you’re a gold-digging whore of the group.

You suspect that it’s a manager of the group that had leaked this info, they’re the only ones that could have had the information without spilling it for all this time. Not even any of your closest friends had known all of this.

But the article is a massive success, sweeping the internet.

And just like that, the storm you’ve seen approaching for weeks breaks around you.

Jungwoo is the first to approach you that same evening. The house has been disturbingly quiet. WinWin came and took Mei away a little while ago, telling you that you looked like you needed some time to yourself, and that he could take care of his daughter for a bit. You know he’s right. Especially when Jungwoo enters your room.

He looks like an anxious disaster, can barely get through his explanation. He cites the pressure and attention from fans on the relationship right now. The things he’s seeing online, as now fans aren’t only attacking you but are also saying very terrible things about the members. It’s destroying him.

“I love you so much, I really, really do.” Jungwoo promises, holding onto your hand so tightly that you swear you can feel your bones grinding together. “But I can’t be a part of this anymore, it’s not good for me. And, also, I just—I don’t think I’m ready to be a dad, not really. Like I thought I could be, but watching you and WinWin with her, seeing the responsibility and everything of it, I’m not ready for that. I think I’d be better as her Uncle Jungwoo, you know?”

You do. You understand. You hate it, but you get it.

Taeil comes in not too long later as you’re still wiping at the stupid hot tears that pour down your cheeks. You’re hiccuping from the force of your crying, and at first you think Taeil’s just heard you crying and has come in to comfort you. He sits down on your bed with you, grabs some tissues for you to blow your nose and wipe your face. He puts his arm around you, and you rest your head on his shoulder.

You can tell the moment when he’s about to say the words you don’t want to hear. His breath hitches as he opens his mouth, searching for the words to say.

You sit up and put a hand to his chest.

“Don’t.” You shake your head. “Please, Taeil. Don’t break up with me. Please.”

His hand covers yours, warm and soft. “Baby, I think it’s now or never, honestly.” His voice is slow and sad, overflowing with all of these different emotions. “I think that before this is all over you’re going to have to decide on one of us to be with, and I hate it, but I just know that it won’t be me.”

Those words hit like stones, and something breaks inside you as you press yourself against him, clinging, silently begging him not to leave.

This house you’ve lived in has been on such unstable foundations since the moment Lucas left you, and now you feel like the ground it’s been built on has turned to liquid. Taeil can’t leave. He’s been such a stable person that you can rely on here. You love him.

Taeil presses his lips to your hair, holds you as you cry, as you repeatedly ask him not to leave you too. But you can tell that he’s already made up his mind, signed out of this relationship, decided that the others rank higher than him, even though it’s his bed that you’d shared for so many nights. It’s Taeil that you woke up to on so many happy mornings; it’s Taeil that you’d once spent all night during your late pregnancy talking to as he touched your belly and spoke softly to your unborn daughter as she stretched and rolled, the two of you whispering together about a future that you could have together.

He holds you until you stop crying but only because your throat hurts and your nose is running and you’ve started hiccuping again. Taeil leaves only when the door opens again and Taeyong stands there.

“Oh, sorry, I can—“ Taeyong points his thumb back over his shoulder, as if he can leave and come back later. But Taeil stands up, gestures for Taeyong to take his place, and as Taeyong slides in to take up the place of the ghost of Taeil in your arms, Taeil slips out the door and closes it behind him.

You don’t even give Taeyong the chance to talk to you. “Are you breaking up with me?”

The way he goes awkwardly stiff is answer enough. A few seconds tick by, your head on his shoulder, wet cheek feeling stuck to the cotton of his tshirt. Taeyong sighs, “I don’t really belong here as much as I once did. And I think it’s far past the time we stop pretending that I do. I just think I might be happier somewhere else. You might be happier with less people in this relationship. You’re always juggling us and Mei, trying to make time to make each of us happy, but you don’t give yourself the time. I love you, I love Mei. I want both of you to have the best in life, and I just don’t think that you need me here romantically to do that.”

The words spill out of him, his thumb stroking over your knuckles as he says, “Besides, I.... I really like what I have going on with Ten. It’s easier, honestly. We understand what each other needs on some level that I just.... I don’t think you and I have ever really had. Ten’s good at making me feel small when I need it, powerful when I don’t. We have fun and can trust each other, and, like I said, I love you, but we don’t have that in the same way.”

By the time that Taeyong leaves, you feel wrung out. You’re surprised that there are still any tears left, surprised that there’s any more of your heart to break.

And then Xiaojun walks into your room. You’re half buried in your pillow and blankets. You don’t even properly see him.

“Just leave,” you tell him. “Just like everyone else.”

Xiaojun makes a noise, but you cut him off.

“Don’t. I’m so tired of breaking up, Xiaojun. Please, just, let’s get this over with. You can leave.” You turn your back on him.

“I wasn’t coming in here for that....” Xiaojun’s voice is small. “But if that’s what you want, I guess, um, I understand.”

You pull your blanket cocoon tighter around you, press your face deep into your pillow, and wallow in the darkness as Xiaojun closes the door behind him, night falls outside.

Some time passes. You’re not sure how long exactly, only that you’d heard footsteps passing up and down the stairs, doors opening and closing, showers running. The night sky visible through the tiny gap in your bedroom window’s curtains shows that it is dark outside, truly dark. You should be asleep by now, fallen into fitful dreams after the misery of the past several hours. You’d heard your bedroom door crack open a while back, heard WinWin’s quiet whisper to Mei, heard the pause, then he’d backed out of the room and taken Mei with him, leaving you to wallow in the sorrow of your breakups.

The house has fallen once more into disturbing silence when your bedroom door next opens. You can’t tell who it is right away. And then he turns the light on, flipping the switch to throw the room into blinding whiteness for a moment. You blink against it, rolling over to face the door, and once your eyes adjust, you see Jaehyun.

He presses the door shut firmly behind him, leaning back against it as he stares at you.

“Are you going to break up with me too?” You mumble, wiping your snot and tears on the pillow case. “You tired of being watched all the time? Being whispered about and shitted upon by your fans? I know I haven’t been ignoring you, so that one can’t be your reason.”

Jaehyun just sighs and pushes away from the door to come sit down on the edge of your bed. He rests his hand on your back, rubbing up and down to help you relax, but you just bury your face in your pillow again and keep crying.

This fucking sucks. You feel like your heart has been run through a shredder. Four boyfriends gone in one fell sweep, just a few hours. And you pray with every ounce of your being that Jaehyun’s not here to break up with you too. You don’t think you would blame him. You don’t really blame any of them—they deserve to live a happy life that’s not tangled in with this drama of the polyamorous relationship, your daughter, the heavy judgement from their own fans because of you—and it does make sense, but that doesn’t mean that you’re not heartbroken.

You twist your head to the side and look up at the blurry colors of Jaehyun’s face. He’s just watching you with what you think is a sad expression (but his face really is quite blurry through your teary eyes). If he’s here to end things with you, then you want to say what you have to say first, so you just say it: “Mei’s not your daughter.”

Jaehyun’s hand goes still on your back. You can feel just how tense he goes too.

“I know that.” His voice sounds tight.

“She’s not your daughter, and I know how badly you wished that she was, and now with all of this shit going on, I wouldn’t blame you if you were breaking up with me too.” You close your eyes. “You could go be free of me, go start dating some probably really hot model or actress or other idol, go make a super hot baby with her.”

“You’re right, I could go do that.” Jaehyun says it simply.

Your eyes flash open to glare at him, but he’s smiling softly at you.

“I could go do that, but why would I?” His hand starts moving on your back again. “I love you. How many times do I have to say that before you get it through that thick head of yours.” His knuckles knock gently on your forehead. You frown, and Jaehyun just laughs. “I love you,  and I love Mei even though she’s not biologically my daughter. I don’t know why you think that I would leave you just because of that.  I know when we broke up the first time it’s because I was shitty and jealous all the time, but I’ve grown, haven’t I? And regarding what you were just saying about finding a hot model or whatever to have a baby with, I have no intention of leaving you for anyone else. You are already hotter than I can handle, thank you. I have a beautiful daughter downstairs. And if you ever want any more beautiful babies in the future, I’m right here to help with that. If you don’t, then that’s okay too. We have Mei.”

Your eyes feel hot and your breath hitches in your chest for an entirely different reason than minutes before. You squeeze your eyes shut as fresh, hot tears spill over.

Jaehyun sinks down to lay on the bed right in front of you. His thumb traces over the mess of tears on your face, and you bring your hand up to the back of his.

With your eyes still closed, you confess, “I’m so afraid of what the future holds right now. I feel like you’re all going to leave me. All of you.” You sniffle, then quietly say, “But then you have to go and say stuff like that, Jung Jaehyun. Do you mean it?”

“Every word. Promise?” Jaehyun offers, his pinky finger intertwining with yours already. 

You squeeze your pinky in a loop with his, and you each press a kiss to your hands to seal it.

“Why did you think I was going to break up with you?” Jaehyun asks after a moment. “Who else did? Why?”

So you start to explain to him the past several hours in a story with pauses for you to get through your hiccuping tears, with many deviations down side tracks through history explaining why you understand their reasoning. You talk and talk, and Jaehyun listens and holds you.

And by the time the morning sun rises, you don’t really feel better necessarily, but for the moment you feel like you’re at least being held together, you feel like maybe everything going on right now does suck immensely, but you have Jaehyun here holding you in his arms, ready to shield your fragile heart from anything else that comes your way.

Adore You <- Previous || Next -> Let Me

a/n: so this is the end of Part 1 of the Finale (I’m sorry for stretching it out into two parts, but this story isn’t able to be wrapped up in less than 40,000 words apparently). I really hated writing this, like there were so many breakups and poor y/n has to go through so much heartbreak in this part :( but it was inevitable, something I’ve been hinting at pretty much since the first part of the series I’m pretty sure. Part 2 should be posted pretty soon, so I promise the wait for it won’t be so long, but what do y’all think? Who do you think she’ll end up with? Several of them or just one? 

As usual, please let me know what you think through comments, reblogs, likes, messages, whatever. Sharing is definitely super appreciated!

[shigarakis-cumdump]

Needy Mission

https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shigarakiscumdump/works

(If you like what you read, consider supporting me on Ao3!)

Summary:  You were siked to hear that your new mission was to hunt down the League of Villains. Maybe Shigaraki would want your date to be early that day? You haven't seen your boyfriend in a minute, anyways.

Cw: dubcon, exhibitionism 

Word Count: 1.7k 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*..✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*..✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*..✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

There was an important mission you were grouped up to do with your coworkers: find and hunt down the LOV. It wasn’t easy, of course, but as a pro, you had to take on tasks like this. You and a few other pros left the commission earlier and split up to find their hideout. You aimlessly walked around town, pretending as if you were looking for this place that you had actually gone to every other night for the last 5 months. If word got out that you were dating the leader of the League of Villains, you would be locked away for sure. You forget how you got so infatuated with Shigaraki. The USJ attack was probably it. His recklessness just to get what he wanted; he was a lot like you, and you liked that. When you “captured him” during that fight, you told him to pull something to be able to get away- that you wanted to save him. He didn’t really understand, but the second he knew you were being honest, he fell in love. After that day, he stalked you for a bit. It would be weird if you started to randomly mention him during meetings and such, so you waited for Shigaraki to come to you.

“Someone miss me already~?” you hear from behind a building. Your face lights up and you hurry back to not be seen.

“We’re actually trying to find you guys today. I’ll lead them in the other direction, don’t worry. No one’s taking you or your league today, my love~” you kiss him on the cheek when he slaps your ass.

“There’s my obedient girl. Can’t get enough of this villain cock, huh? You might even lose your job if they find out. But my stupid bitch couldn’t care less..” he chuckles. You smile and nod, happy to please him. He gropes your ass, pulling you in tighter to smell your freshly washed hair. You used his favorite scented shampoo, in hopes you’d see him today. He trailed small bite marks from your ears to your neck, leaving some visible ones.

“Shiggy, you can’t make them noticeable..I’m supposed to be working right now, it’s not professional..” you lecture him. Shigaraki sighs and grabs your chin with his hand.

“Since when has any of this been professional? I’ve harassed your coworkers and students, yet you still seem to love me. Maybe I should fuck you right here so everyone can hear and see how much you love being my “heroic” little cock sleeve.” he said, crimson eyes staring into your soul. You hated when he used the word ‘heroic’ in a condescending tone like that. It made you feel like your line of work was for nothing. You took a deep breath and averted his gaze, whispering a small sorry. “What was that, slut? Might have to speak up, I don’t think anyone could hear you,” he lifts your chin up harsh-fully.

“Sorry, Shigaraki!” you shout, afraid you were too loud.

“Good girl, let them hear you submit to me..” he said, shoving you down to your knees. You watched him as he quickly pulled his pants down and let his cock out free. He tapped your cheek with it, and you opened your mouth like he trained you. He shoved his cock down your throat, immediately making you gag around his large member. He grabbed the back of your head and forced himself further down your throat. He throatfucked you for what seemed like forever, only letting you breathe every minute or so. Drool, sweat, and tears coated your face.

“Let’s paint that pretty face of yours, huh? Then I’ll ruin your pussy so you can barely walk the rest of the day~” he groans, taking his dick out of your mouth before releasing all over your pretty face. You scrunch your eyes shut as you feel his hot load trail down your face, getting caught in your eyelashes. You hear a phone camera shutter, and the flash turns your eyelids red. “Such a filthy girl, really,” he scoffs, and you wipe the cum from your eyes to look up to him. Your glossed over eyes shine up at him and he caresses your face. “Get up.” he tells you. You swiftly stand on your feet. Shigaraki throws you around like a ragdoll, turning you over so your ass is up in the air. He slaps it harshly a few times, loving the pathetic whimpers you let out. He lines his cock up to your wet hole, and without warning starts fucking into you mercilessly.

“Shigaraki- please! Someone will come back- ah! Here!!” you cry out, trying to cover your own mouth to muffle yourself.

“I thought you wanted everyone to see you look like a slut for your master?” he bucks his hips into your ass, rough enough to leave bruises.

“Master, please!! It’s too much!!” you whine. He shows no signs of stopping before he cums inside of your tight cunt, not soon after his first on your face. Anyone could walk behind the building to see this wanted villain fucking the pro hero who’s supposed to catch him. It could ruin your career- it could ruin your whole life. So why were you getting wet to the thought of someone finding you bent over like this? Shigaraki could feel your spongy walls clamping down around him, trying to milk him for all he’s worth.

“Calm down, baby, I’m not going anywhere~” Shigaraki chuckles. You hear a group of people walking close to the alley and you try to pry Shigaraki’s hands off of your waist. His grip only tightens, and to make it worse (or better) he slams into you, another involuntary shriek coming out of you.

“What was that?”

“Not sure, but hero’s are lining the streets, someone will help her.”

“Hear that? No one cares about you getting fucked by the most dangerous villain; but I’m sure my slut wouldn’t care..” he said, slapping your ass. You mewl out, feeling your release coming.

“Shiggy, I can’t!! Fuck I’m gunna cum..!”

“No you’re not,” Shigaraki never slows down his pace, but he grabs the small radio you have stationed in your pocket and says, “I think I found one of your little friends, she’s a real cute one; It’d be a shame if anything happened to her~” you hear your coworkers from the other end call your name and ask if you’re okay, but if you open your mouth, something other than words will come out. Shigaraki drops the radio and pounds into you a few more times before you feel his cum filling your dripping cunt once again. He quickly pulls out and starts to walk off, leaving you exposed and needy in the alley.

“Good luck explaining this one to them, honey~ see you soon..” he finishes before a warp gate appears for him.

Your coworkers rush into the alley to see your tear and cum soaked face, speechless. God, you loved Shigaraki’s games.

[jungshookz]

what if y/n's friends come by for a surprise visit or smth and mr park is like right there, how would that work out 😟

:-) 

➺ pairing; park jimin x reader

➺ genre; balletteacher!jiminiverse!! smerhaps smut (slightly suggestive content!!!) also y/n’s not good at improv and it shows womp womp 

➺ wordcount; 2.4k

                                     »»————-　♥　————-««

“god, you smell good...” jimin murmurs against your neck, his fingers giving your hips a gentle squeeze before his hand slides down to hitch your leg up against his waist 

you’re so warm and so soft against him... 

he’s obsessed with you 

“you say that a lot.” you tease quietly, reaching up to tangle your fingers in his soft hair before tugging lightly, “we should probably get up soon... we can’t spend the entire day doing nothing.”

“well, we won’t be doing nothing-” jimin pulls away suddenly before pressing his forehead against yours, “we’d technically be doing each other-”

“what? oh my god, you are such a boy-” you feel your face flush immediately and you turn to the side so you don’t have to look at that cocky smirk on jimin’s face that never fails to make your tummy flutter 

“c’mon, pretty girl...” jimin purrs lowly, taking the chance to bury his face into the crook of your neck again before rolling his hips against yours, “i wanna make you feel good.”

the chains hanging around his neck tickle against your heated skin and your eyelids flutter when you feel jimin’s hand creeping towards your centre 

“i-” you perk up in alarm when you swear you hear the slight sound of the front door clicking shut, your brows knitting in concern as you stare up at the ceiling 

...and then you hear faint footsteps...

...and you’re pretty sure that’s the sound of giggling... 

...

what the hell

are there people in your apartment right now 

oh my god 

are there people in your apartment right now?! 

“oh my god-!” you immediately shove jimin off of you, wincing when he rolls off the bed and lands on the ground with a loud thump

oops

“ow-! what was that for??” jimin whines quietly, sitting up before rubbing at his lower back, “also, you are… so much stronger than you look-”

“sorry, sorry-!” you whisper, frantically pulling your shorts up your legs before grabbing a shirt off the end of the bed, “you need to-”

“party of five for miss y/n y/l/n! get your ass out here, girlie!”

"you know, i bet she’s still asleep-” 

you feel like you’re about to pass out when you hear lisa getting closer to your bedroom and you reach up to run a hand through your hair in panic 

“uh- no! no, i’m up!” you announce loudly before clearing your throat, “just- just gimme a second, lisa- don’t come in here because i’m, like, super naked right now-” you chuckle nervously before spinning around to face jimin (who’s still a little dazed from hitting the ground so hard and so fast, which explains why he’s just sitting there basically doing nothing), “jimin, hurry!”

“fuck, hold on- did you- did you know they were coming over today?” jimin hisses, scrambling up from the ground before pulling the sheets up around his hips so that his lower half is decently covered, “where the hell is my shirt…?”

“oh, yeah, i planned for them to come over the same weekend you’re here so we can all get together and i can tell everyone that mr. park was the one who gave me that hickey they saw last week-” you pause before looking over at your currently-denser-than-a-block-of-tofu boyfriend with wide eyes, “obviously not, jimin! you need to hide-”

“but you’re wearing m-”

you don’t give jimin much of a chance to say or do anything else before you’re grabbing him and basically shoving him into your open closet

“i-” he raises a finger and you shake your head, slapping his hand down quickly

“not a single word-” you warn, shoving your hand against his chest to push him in even deeper before abruptly pulling the closet doors shut

your bedroom door swings open right as you trap jimin in your closet and you spin around with a wide smile, pressing yourself up against the doors, “i’m not doing anything!”

“good morning, sunshine!” lisa chirps, her smile faltering as she takes in the state of the room, “uh…”

geez louise

she knew you were messy, but…

the blanket is drooping off the bed, your clothes are strewn everywhere (your panties are literally hanging off the lamp) - it looks like someone came in here and ransacked the place, if she’s being honest

“i’m doing some spring cleaning.” you chime in as soon as you note the look of concern on her face, “you know how it is! everything has to be super messy before it becomes super clean.”

“it’s… it’s nowhere close to spring, so i wouldn’t call it spring cleaning.” she snorts, crossing her arms before turning on her heel to look at you, “so, how much time do you need to get ready? the girls are waiting in the living room.”

“i, um- it’s just that i said…” you trail off, trying to find the right words to let her down easy, “you know, i did say that i wasn’t going to join you guys this weekend, so i will... not be getting ready... because i won’t be leaving the apartment?”

“oh, i know you said that, but… this is the second time this month that you’ve ditched us to hang out in your apartment by yourself! that’s why we decided to come and surprise you and drag you out instead!” lisa smiles, your heart skipping a beat when she starts to walk closer to you, “now, let’s pick out a cute outfit for you-”

“no!” you snap, slamming yourself up tighter against the closet doors, “no way!”

“woah-!” lisa stumbles backward in surprise before frowning at you, “jesus… what’s your problem this morning? god, you’re so jumpy-”

“i’m fine! i’m just- uh- i’m on my period so- you know how it is since you are also a human girl who has her period every month-” you cough into your fist before letting out a chuckle, “there’s just something about bleeding profusely out of your hooha that drives you crazy, right?! just girly things. so crazy. it’s wild.”

“what are you talkin- wait, what are you wearing?” lisa suddenly changes the subject and you frown before looking down at your-

?

oh 

oh no

this,..,., 

this is not your shirt

this is jimin’s shirt

and you’re pretty sure lisa knows this is jimin’s shirt because she made a comment last week about how nice and biteable his arms looked in it when he pushed the sleeves up

and yeah, one might think that all white t-shirts look the same and that there’s really no difference between them, but lisa pays special attention to detail and would be able to tell about fifty white t-shirts apart if she had to 

“a… white t-shirt?” you scoff playfully, trying to play it off and keep things super chill and super casual, “my goodness, you’re certainly a little ditzy before mimosas-”

“well, yeah, it’s a shirt, y/n, but...” she places her hands on her hips before tilting her head, her eyes narrowing into slits, “it looks so familiar and i can’t quite remember where i’ve seen it…”

you chew on the inside of your cheek anxiously as she continues staring at you

god

you hate this

you’d very much like for a wormhole to appear and swallow you up if that were possible 

should you say something??

you’ve been quiet for too long

you should say something and change the subject so that she doesn’t have enough time to figure out that you’re wearing mr. park’s shirt because then that’d lead to a discussion as to why you’re wearing mr. park’s shirt and then that’d lead to oh, yeah, by the way, i’m in a relationship with our teacher and before you got here we were in the middle of having sex so it’d be great if you could leave-

“you know, you’re probably thinking about a shirt you saw in a magazine or something- i-” you’re cut off when seulgi suddenly wanders into your bedroom, immediately letting out a snort at the sight of your bedroom

“wow, y/n! i’ve heard of disorganised chaos, but this is a little much.” she whistles lowly before turning to face you, “what’s taking you freaks so long?”

“we were about to pick an outfit for y/n but- hey, does that shirt look familiar to you?” lisa asks quietly, seulgi leaning in a little closer before pursing her lips in thought

“mm… i don’t know. just looks like any old ratty t-shirt y/n would own. why?”

“ratty-“ you gawk, looking down at your shirt, “this isn’t ratty!”

“okay, miss fuzzy-legwarmers-”

“okay, you guys should probably leave because my cramps are, like, killing me-” you step away from the closet for the first time since lisa came in before gesturing for the two of them to go, “i promise i’ll come to brunch next week, but right now, i just need to be by myself-”

(and you know it would never happen but you hope the closet doors won’t spriNG open like they do in the cartoons when the closet’s been overstuffed)

“are you sure you don’t wanna join us? we’re going to talk about how yummy mr. park looked in class on friday-” seulgi turns to glance at you with a smirk as you continue to shove them down the hallway and back out to the living room, “and we all know how you just won’t shut up about mr. park-”

“hA, okay- very funny-” you chuckle nervously as you glance back towards your open bedroom door, hoping that jimin won’t be able to hear any of this 

you don’t need to embarrass yourself in front of him any further! 

“there’s no point in denying it, y/n!” lisa chirps, “you looooove mr. park and you just wanna sit all over that pretty face-”

“you know, i already know that i’m never going to live that down and you guys aren’t helping-” you grumble, shoving against their backs to get them to move faster, “you basically remind me of it every day-” 

“aw, c’mon! you know we’re only teasing, you wuss.” seulgi rolls her eyes, “besides, i wanna talk about how sexy his arms are, so if you come to brunch with us, i can do all the talking and the fantasizing on your behalf- do you think he’d be able to pin you down using one hand?”

you feel your cheeks flush because you happen to know the answer to that particular question (the answer is a big fat ABSOLUTELY he can)

“you know, i don’t know why you always get so quiet whenever we talk about him-” wendy chimes in once the three of you reach the living room, “this is a safe space! we’re all allowed to talk about how much we want mr. park to fuck us into oblivion-”

“i just feel like-” you choke, clearing your throat quietly before averting your gaze to the ground, “you know, he’s our- he’s our teacher, so… so it’s a little weird? to be talking about all the things you want him to do to you?”

also you’re dating him and it’s weird to hear about how much your friends want to fuck your boyfriend 

also they talk about him like he’s a piece of meat - and yes, you’re guilty of displaying the same behaviour sometimes - but it’s still not cool!! 

jimin’s so much more than just a (very) pretty face and a (very) fit body 

“you were the one who said you wanted to sit on his face-”

“yes, i’m aware- you know, i only said that to get seulgi to shut up- anyway!” you scurry over to the door and hold it open before gesturing for everyone to get the hell out of your apartment, “it was wonderful seeing you girls, but i’ll see you on monday at class-” you force a smile on your face and praY that no one is too suspicious of your very odd behaviour

you think you’ve done a decent job at keeping it cool so far... right? 

“fine. but we’re not going to share any of the details that we talked about as your punishment.” lisa shakes her head disappointedly as she adjusts her purse strap over her shoulder, “it’s your loss! you don’t get to dream about having sex with the most beautiful man on earth-”

you almost let out a snort but you stop yourself before it happens

you’ve never been one for bragging, but... you don’t have to dream about having sex with the most beautiful man on earth because you’re already having sex with the most beautiful man on earth 

(what you’re trying to say is that God has favourites and you clearly made the list) 

:-)

“well, that’s a consequence i’m just going to have to suffer with-” you push your bottom lip out in a pout before waving frantically, “goodbye, you guys-!”

you let out a breath of relief as soon as you slam the door shut behind you

holy moly

that was close!!!!!

that was TOO close

you and jimin need to have a better plan to prepare for this if it happens again

hopefully this won’t happen again but you can never be too sure... 

maybe you should take your spare apartment key back from lisa 

“are they gone?” you jump when jimin pokes his head around the corner and you nod before shooting him a thumbs up

“yes, thank god- but that was… that was way too close.” you shudder, turning and making sure the door is double-locked before walking towards jimin, “i don’t even know what i’d do if they saw you.”

“judging by your improv skills, you’d probably tell them i’m mr. park’s twin brother-”

“you know, that’s actually not half bad!” you raise a brow before reaching down to brush your fingers against the growing red spot on jimin’s bare chest from where you shoved at him earlier, “also, sorry i pushed you onto the ground. and then shoved you into a closet.”

“eh, i’m fine.” he hums, taking your hand before turning and walking back towards the hallway, “also, i’m going to have to ask to join one of these brunches one day since i seem to be a hot topic.” 

“oh my god, jimin-”

“by the way-” he glances at you over his shoulder for a split second with a particularly cheeky smirk, “i don’t think i need to remind you again that the offer for you to sit on my face still stands...”

“oh my god, jimin-!”

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here?

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read?

🌟or something even shorter?

[translations-by-aiimee]

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 16

Original Title:  二哈和他的白���师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 16 - This Venerable One is Stunned

This really couldn't be blamed on the beast-like Mo Ran. Anyone in such a claustrophobic space, trapped with someone he'd slept with countless times - regardless of whether the sex meant anything, whether it was out of revenge or out of love - smelling the familiar smell on the other person, he could never help the lurching feeling in his heart.

Besides, Mo Ran himself was a bastard.

Shi Mei was his white moonlight. He absolutely couldn't bear to touch it, and he doesn't want to destroy it.

He patronized Chu Wanning and only Chu Wanning. All of his darkness, bestial-lust, and bone-crushing rage could be vented with no fear of repercussion.

He crushed him, tore him up underneath him, forcing him to take part in all the tricks he would never try with Shi Mei.

In his previous life, every time he saw Chu Waning tilting his neck and moving his throat, he felt he was about to degenerate into a vicious beast that only knew how to drink blood. He wanted to bite the man's throat open, grind his teeth, suck out his blood, chew through his flesh and bones.

He didn't care about Chu Wanning. He could defile him as much as he wanted.

At the end of it all, his body had developed a habit. Every time he smelled the scent of Chu Wanning's body, his stomach would feel like it's on fire, his heart would itch, and he wanted to tie him down to a bed and fuck him senseless.

There was a moment of silence in the coffin and Mo Ran's racing heart could be heard.

He knows that Chu Wanning's face was very close. He could feel the other's breathing. If he bit it right now, Chu Wanning wouldn't be able to break free, but. . .

Better to forget it.

Mo Ran leaned back and distanced himself from Chu Wanning. It wasn't really easy considering there wasn't really much room in the coffin.

"I'm sorry, Shizun." Mo Ran snorted and pretended to be meek. "I didn't expect the coffin to - shake!"

As soon as he spoke, the coffin slanted again. Mo Ran rolled into Chu Wanning's arms again with a grunt.

Chu Wanning: ". . ."

Mo Ran retreated again, the coffin shook again, and the cycle continued several more times.

"Un-fucking-believable." Mo Ran leaned back again.

The golden boy and girl were probably walking on a slope, and the inside of the coffin wall was slippery. He didn't hold on for too long, Mo Ran helplessly rolled on top of Chu Wanning.

"Shizun. . ." He bit his lip, feeling aggravated.

This guy originally looked kind of cute as a young man. If he deliberately hid his wolf tail and act like a puppy, he could actually pretend to be similar.

Chu Wanning didn't say a word.

Mo Ran really didn't want to roll around again, so he simply gave up the struggle: "I didn't mean to."

Chu Wanning: ". . ."

Mo Ran whispered: "But the wound on my back still hurts so much. . ."

In the darkness, Chu Wanning seemed to sigh gently. The gongs and drums outside were a bit noisy and Mo Ran wasn't sure whether he had really heard it.

But the next moment, Mo Ran smelled a clearer fragrance of begonia flowers, and Chu Wanning's hand wrapped behind his back, blocking the gap that he might have crashed into.

However, it wasn't a hug. Chu Wanning's arms were empty, deliberately avoiding physical contact with Mo Ran. Only the clothes and Mo Ran were touching each other, but this posture was still somewhat intimate.

"Be careful, don't hit it again." The voice was heavy, like porcelain soaked in a stream, with a kind of ancient demure. If he listened to it without hatred in mind, it was actually very nice.

". . . Alright."

Suddenly no one spoke anymore.

At this point, Mo Ran was still a young teenager who wasn't as tall as an adult, so he leaned in Chu Wanning's arms, his forehead fitting underneath Chu Wanning's chin.

This feeling was both familiar and unfamiliar.

What was familiar was the person lying next to him.

What was unfamiliar was the position they were in.

Once upon a time, the past events all transpired in Wushan Hall where he was lying on Life-Death Peak. The Immortal Emperor, who had become a lonely man, held Chu Waning in his arms for dear life in the long, breathless darkness.

At that time, he was already higher than Chu Wanning, and his strength was greater than that of his shizun's. His arms were like iron bars of a cage, locking the little remaining warmth in his arms, like holding the last fire burning in the world.

He bowed his head and kissed Chu Wanning's long black hair, and then greedily attached himself to his face, burying deep into the neck of the other, biting and nibbling without pity.

"I hate you, Chu Wanning. I hate you so much."

There was some hoarseness in his voice.

"But you're all I have left."

A violent smash shattered Mo Ran's memories. The sound of gongs and drums suddenly stopped, and there was dead silence surrounding them.

"Shizun. . ."

Chu Wanning stretched out his hand. He touched his lips, and said solemnly: "Don't talk, we're here."

Sure enough, there was no sound of footsteps outside, and there was only dead silence.

Chu Wanning's fingertips ignited in a cluster of pale golden flames and stroked the wall of the coffin to make a narrow opening, just large enough for two people to see through.

Sure enough, they were carried to the outskirts of Caidie Town. The earth temple dedicated to the Master of Ceremonies Ghost was already densely packed with coffins. The fragrance of the butterfly powder in the air became even denser, floating into the coffin through the wood.

Mo Ran suddenly felt something was wrong: "Shizun, do you think that the scent here, as well as the scent in the illusion, seems to be a bit different from the smell in Young Master Chen's coffin?"

". . . What do you mean?"

Mo Ran was more sensitive to the smell. He said: "When we were on the north mountain, the moment the coffin opened, the smell that floated out was very good. Considering it was the butterfly fragrance incense, there was nothing to make me dislike it. But since entering the illusion, I always felt that the smell was similar, but there were some subtle differences. I couldn't figure out what was different, but now. . . I think I probably know."

Chu Wanning looked at him sideways: "You don't like the smell?"

Mo Ran stuck against the gap, still staring outside, and then said: "Yeah. I haven't liked the smell of incense since I was a child. The smell here, and in the illusion, isn't the hundred butterfly fragrance poweder at all, but a special high fragrance used by the people of Caidie Town to burn when worshiping the Master of Ceremonies Ghost. Look there—"

Chu Wanning followed his line of sight and looked at the clay incense burner in front of the earth temple. Sure enough, three arm-thick vertical incense sticks were burning, and they were passing a sweet smell into the wind.

The people in Caidie Town were good at making all kinds of powders from various flowers, so all the fragrances that are used to pray to the gods were made in their own town, and they don't buy them from other places. Since the flowers used are all planted in the outskirts of the town, the smell that turned out wasn't that different from something made by an amateur.

Chu Wanning pondered: "Could it be that the fragrance in the coffin of Young Master Chen had nothing to do with the smell in the illusionary realm?"

Before he could ponder the details of this new discovery, a dazzling red light from the earth temple interrupted his thoughts. The two people hiding in the coffin looked together and saw that the temple was shining brightly, reflecting its brilliant surroundings. There was a row of iron shelves on the side of the temple with red lotus lanterns for making wishes. Those lotus lanterns had originally been extinguished, but now they were all being lit up, one by one.

The boys and girls guarding all the coffins knelt down one after another, chanting: "The Master of Ceremonies has come down to earth to guide us wild ghosts and lonely souls to be free from eternal suffering, to meet a good man, to lie in the same coffin, and to be companions in the Underworld."

Through the sound of chanting, the Master of Ceremonies Ghost in the temple radiated golden immortal light. Then, she lowered her eyelids, slowly moved the corners of her mouth, and leapt off the offering platform.

Her movements were quite elegant and graceful, her appearance a million times more elegant

It's a pity that the body was made of mud and she was too heavy. The girl's house, with a bang, was smashed into a big hole in the ground.

Mo Ran: "Pfft."

Chu Wanning: ". . ."

The Master of Ceremonies Ghost also seemed dissatisfied with the placement of her feet. She stared at the big pit in the ground for a while before pacing out of the pit and straightening her clothes.

She looked like a woman wearing heavy makeup, dressed in red and green, quite cheerful. In the dark night, it turned its neck and came to the hundred people buried in coffins. The night breeze was full of the stench of corpses. She seemed to be in a better mood. She slowly opened her arms and let out a few giggles.

"If you believe in me and make offerings to me, you will be able to meet a good destiny and complete the lifelong event that you weren't able to complete during your life." The tender voice drifted in the night, and the ghosts kowtowed in excitement.

"Blessings of the Master of Ceremonies--"

"Please let the Master of Ceremonies bless this marriage--"

The pleadings were coming from all around her and the Master of Ceremonies seemed to be enjoying herself. She slowly moved among the rows of coffins, and her long nails scraped against the bright red vermilion lacquered coffin boards, making a sharp and ear-piercing sound.

Mo Ran was curious: "Shizun, I remember you said that demons, immortals, ghosts, gods, humans and the devil belong to the six realms, but this immortal doesn't like in heaven. How come she's with these ghosts in the underground instead?"

"Because it cares about ghost marriages, and her main food source is the offerings of the ghosts." Chu Wanning said. "Ghosts can greatly increase her power, otherwise she wouldn't be able to cultivate her immortal body in only a hundred years. With such benefits, she's happy to stay with her 'friends' in the underworld."

The Master of Ceremonies Ghost walked around the group of coffins and returned to the front. The empty and tender voice rang again: "Open a coffin and I'll bless the marriage. Starting from the left."

Following its order, the first coffin on the left slowly opened, and the golden boy and girl were greeted by the two corpses inside staggeringly crawled out, and the gorgeous flaming red dress made the face of the dead look pale and lifeless.

The married couple slowly approached the Master of Ceremonies Ghost and knelt down.

The Master of Ceremonies Ghost put her hand between them and said: "In the name of the master of ceremonies, I grant you this marriage after death. From now on, you will be husband and wife, man and woman together in joy."

Mo Ran rolled his eyes and muttered: "If you can't write a poem, don't do it. It should be a good marriage vow, so why does it sound so lewd?"

Chu Wanning said coldly: "You have a dirty mind."

Mo Ran shut up.

But it didn't take long for the Master of Ceremonies Ghost to personally prove that it wasn't Mo Ran who was dirty-minded, but the god in charge of the marriage who was the lewd one.

He saw that the married corpses seemed to have swallowed some kind of aphrodisiac. They were already two dead ghosts, but suddenly they began to tear each other’s clothes, feverishly kissing and embracing each other passionately. They were entangled so shamelessly in public.

Chu Wanning: ". . ."

Mo Ran: ". . ."

"In the name of the Master of Ceremonies, I give you the joys of heaven. If Yin and Yang can intermingle, what's the harm with life and death!"

The cry of the Master of Ceremonies Ghost became more shrill and much louder.

The movements of the two corpses became more and more exaggerated. After removing the clothes, the male corpse was actually full of passion, full of energy, and no different from a living person.

Mo Ran was stunned: ". . . Is this. . . fucking. . . okay???"

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

[xoluvx]

hoax; t.holland

» pairing: tom holland x actress!reader » song: hoax » word count: 1.4K

"They're going to ask questions about the relationship-" your publicist reminded you as you stood to the side of the stage. This was the first talk show you were doing in a while. "-remember you don't have to answer any of them." She finished looking at you directly with a reassuring look.

Nodding you, adjusted top trying to compose yourself.

Waving at the live audience, you smiled brightly. The best fake smile you could muster as you approached the host who was standing up. His hand reached towards you as you shook it politely before taking a seat.

You'd been in the clear for the first few minutes until the dreaded question came up. "So is it true?" You caught the end of the question, the beginning was a blur, but you knew exactly what he was talking about.

'Remember you don't have to answer any of them.' Your publicist's words rang in your head and you smiled awkwardly intertwining your fingers in your lap.

"I'm taking this time to really focus on my career and that's what really matters to me right now" you feigned a cheerful smile, something you'd picked up being in the business. You weren't lying, you were only exaggerating the truth.

Actually, the truth was that you were miserable. Life without him was miserable. Without your best friend. Without the person, you'd confided in and thought was your future.

It didn't help that you couldn't grief in peace. It felt like the world was looking at you with a microscope and you couldn't leave your house without the questions. The noise and fuzz over the break-up. You didn't have time to process it all.

"I think we should keep things professional," you whispered as Tom held you close. One arm around the small of your waist, one hand on your cheek. Both your arms were curled on your chest, holding the collar of his shirt.

Things had moved quickly. His lips were on yours before you could think or breath and soon your arms were curled around each other pulling each other closer.

But the small voice in the back of your head told you to stop. You couldn't do this again. You couldn't go down that road again. Not with Tom. You didn't want to ruin things with him. Not like your previous relationship. Who, shocker, had also been with a co-star and did not end well.

Tom knew that.

Yet his lips felt so right on yours and neither of you wanted whatever it was you were doing to end.

"I want to be with you," Tom whispered back brushing your cheek with his thumb before planting a soft kiss on your lips. His lips lingered on yours slowly peeling away to breathe. His forehead pressed against yours.

"I don't want things to end badly," you sighed shutting your eyes. You felt Tom shaking his head.

"They won't."

That'd been a lie. A big fat lie that you relived every day.

Exhaling, you slumped your shoulders. You were home safe. No other questions were asked apart from the one you answered, not really answering it. You made it clear you weren't there to talk about it. But it was the only thing you thought about on the ride home.

It was the only thing you could think about now as you wiped your makeup off. The reflection in the mirror was tired and weak. Emotionally drained. You could feel your throat tightening as you ran a damp cotton pad under your eyes, remembering the time you were so tired he carefully tried wiping your eyelids.

Splashing your face with water, you swallowed the knot in your throat. Shutting off the lights, you dragged your feet towards your bed crawling into it burying yourself under the covers. Your body relaxed as you laid your head on your pillow.

Somehow you could still smell him on your pillows. Maybe you were going crazy, but you got a whiff of his cologne and you felt the knot in your throat coming back. This time the tears were quick and before you could stop yourself, they were running down your face and onto the pillow.

"I trusted you, Tom." You breathed rapidly trying to stop yourself from hyperventilating. You could feel your throat closing, your chest compressing, you felt dizzy.

"I'm sorry," Tom rushed behind you trying to reach out to you, but you shrugged him off. You were in his hotel room, but the distance between the two of you felt infinite.

Your head was fogged with the images of Tom with another woman.

"It wasn't like that," He continued talking, but you couldn't understand him. His words had no meaning.

"Stop," you breathed, your heart pounding and the tears hot on your cheeks. You leaned against the wall trying to gather yourself. "How could you do this to me? You knew what I went through, you knew why I was scared of this-" you were out of breath your voice was getting louder as you spoke.

Tom seemed to grow smaller as you towered over him.

He knew this would tear you apart.

"It was nothing. She's a friend," Tom exclaimed, but you were way too heated. Friends didn't stand so close to each other. Friends didn't hold hands like that.

"How could you do this to me? To us?" You huffed shaking your head. The tears were still there, but you were now on fire. You were burning inside with anger and pain.

"Sweetheart, please-" Tom begged trying to get a hold of you. You brushed him off shaking your head.

"I can't do this, Tom. Everyone has seen those photos," you shook your head biting your lip as the tears continued to form and fall. You wrapped your hands around yourself. "You did the same thing he did," you shook your head.

"I thought you were different," you sobbed turning on your heel and towards the door. It closed with a soft thud as you left.

Swallowing the memory, you grabbed your phone. You were curious to see if the interview was circulating. You were sure it was. People had been in your business since your first relationship and they'd been so invested in the one with Tom.

The one you hoped would be different.

Through blurred vision, you saw people were reposting the part of your interview where you talked about it. Everyone was quick to jump to conclusions. But what caught your eye was not all the reposts and the added commentary. It was him.

A screenshot of something he'd posted on his stories. Something that seemed to be a direct reply to your interview clip. Someone had posted it and though you hated that people were so invested in your love life, you were glad they reposted it because there was no way you were looking at his stories these days.

It was a quote. A quote about loss and forgiveness and you don't know if he was directly talking about you, but it sure felt like it.

You felt your heart fall to the pit of your stomach and suddenly your hands felt clammy as you held your phone.

Inhaling deep, you turned it off. You had to sleep.

But as you placed the phone on your nightstand, the screen turned on illuminating your dark room.

Shakily, you brought the phone back under your covers shielding it as if there were others who could just look over your shoulder and see your phone. You huddled under your covers seeing the notification. The three letters and the spiderweb emoji flashed on your screen.

You opened the message. The thread of messages, the grey bubbles took up your screen. The unanswered messages all pleading to talk. Had you been childish to not answer his messages? Maybe. But he'd hurt you in a way you weren't expecting.

Can we talk please

The text read. You weren't going to answer. You refused. You were about to turn it off when the phone started vibrating in your hand. He was calling.

You let it ring once. Twice. Three times, until you inhaled deeply swiping your phone bringing the phone up to your ear.

"Don't hang up please," Tom's voice made your heart flutter and you froze. "Please let me talk to you," he begged. His voice was low, but there was a hint of gratitude that you'd picked up the phone.

"Okay...talk."

He talked. You listened. It wasn't going to be easy, but you also couldn't let go of Tom. You hadn't been able to in the weeks that you were separated.

He was it for you, so you listened.

folklore masterlist

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Canary, Part 1

It was a good day. Why did stuff always have to go wrong on ‘good days’, Marinette thought bitterly as she rushed through the city, the rough edges of her phone digging into her palm. The message she’d been sent was burned into her eyelids.

She pushed the spiraling thoughts from her mind as she stared at the street sign nearest her. Only a minute and she’d be there and her fears would be either confirmed or denied.

She leaned against the wall to gather her thoughts. If she had messed up it had to have been today because, otherwise, he would have done something earlier. Did she mess up? She allowed her eyes to flutter closed as she thought back.

~

She’d woken up on an uncomfortable mattress on the floor and rolled off of it, the sheets sticking to her sweaty skin. It had been a particularly hot day for Gotham and she had been too concentrated on typing up a report for work to turn up the AC before her impromptu nap (translation: she’d passed out).

She rubbed her eyes until she managed to get her brown contacts out and set them in the weird not-quite-water that she had never bothered to learn the name for so her eyes could rest while she took a quick shower and changed.

Then, she’d waited. She sat in the window, eyes barely poking over the sill as she watched the building across the street. She didn’t feel like moving for a long while but, alas, the meeting was supposed to be that day and she was running out of time for that thing with Calendar Man and… yeah. Unfortunately, Marinette had to be productive that day unless she wanted more enemies.

She saw movement and her face lit up. She might get everything done soon, at least, and then she could pass out for a hundred years like she oh-so-desperately wanted to.

She checked that her gloves were firmly in place, pulled on the plague doctor (gas) mask that had accidentally become her trademark, and toed on her boots.

Then, she made her way up to the alleyway next to the building she had been watching. She’d been lucky enough to have a job right next to one of her safe houses and she kinda wished that it would happen again. It was nice to not have to travel a half-hour or more just to listen in on one boring conversation.

She pulled out her knives and, after testing to make sure they were still strong enough to hold her weight, began picking her way up to the roof.

She set everything up for the thing with Calendar Man. It took approximately five seconds. Yay her.

Alright, next thing: listening in on a boring conversation that, if she was lucky, would end in someone getting shot so it wouldn’t last too long. It was going to be even hotter inside the vent and she did not want to end up cooked. That would be embarrassing.

She crawled into the vents and dutifully wrote down everything they said on a notepad. They were negotiating a drug deal and her client wanted to intercept it to try and get both the money and the (… Big D? What the fuck is Big D?) drugs. From the sounds of it, it wasn’t possible but, hey, her job wasn’t anything more than gathering intel. If her clients wanted to die stupidly that was on them.

… maybe she’d kill her client herself, she thought angrily as she readjusted in the vent in hopes of not getting stuck to the metal. It was easy money but wow was it awful.

Or, at least, it was awful until a hand grabbed her by the hood of her leather jacket and started dragging her out. She tipped her head back, grin on her face in seconds.

“Signal. Hi.”

He sighed and pulled her the rest of the way out. She let herself hang from his grip like a reprimanded cat.

“So, what’s up?” She asked brightly, as if hadn’t just caught her listening in on a private conversation.

“Great, thanks for asking,” he said. “Even better now that I’m taking the famed Canary to Arkham.”

“We both know that’s not going to happen.”

He leveled her with a cold look for a few more seconds before splitting into a grin. “Yeah. Probably not. Got a backup plan?”

“Of course.”

“Is it even worth trying?”

“Probably not. But who knows? You could get lucky.”

She waited for a minute as he mulled over the idea in his head before he sighed. “I gotta ask: what’s with the egg?”

She swatted at his hand until he let her down and then led him over to her science experiment. “Know how there’s that expression that says ‘it’s so hot out you could make eggs on the sidewalk’ or something?”

“Yeah…?”

“Well, the pavement physically can’t get hot enough to do that and also we’re up north so: aluminum foil to try and get the process to work a little better.”

He stared at her for a while before snickering. “Need a magnifying glass? We can ‘kid with an anthill’ this.”

“Sure.”

He reached into his tool belt and started looking for his spare. Unfortunately for him, it seemed to be gone.

She could feel his sharp gaze turn on her even if she couldn’t see his eyes behind his helmet. He wasn’t stupid and magnifying glasses don’t usually just disappear into thin air unless they’re Plastic Man in disguise. She held up her hands for a quick search but, when he couldn’t find it on her, he just sighed and looked down at the science experiment. It didn’t seem to be going well. The egg was still distinctly not cooked.

Eventually, he groaned and sat down. The light around him flickered and started to move at his will. Marinette watched intently.

Ten minutes later, they had a cooked egg. They high-fived, delighted. They weren’t going to taste it, obviously, it had been out for a while without supervision and who knows what could have happened to it… but it was an egg! Yay them!

“My old science teacher would be so proud of me,” Marinette joked.

“My current science teacher would be proud of me.”

“Oooooh, going back to school?”

He smiled. “Yep! Robin is finally in college and Red Hood convinced me to go with him. You should, too, it’s actually not that bad.”

“Please. If I was going to do that I’d go back to my home country. American school is expensive and not all of us are sponsored by billionaires.”

“... aren’t you a millionaire?”

She grinned. “Of course. But why would I want to spend that much of my own money?”

He hummed his understanding. Then, she pushed herself up with a groan. “Right, we both have jobs. See you later.”

He hesitated and then held a hand out for her notepad. “Is it bad?”

She held it out of reach with ease. “Nah, just drugs. Unless someone got shot while I was gone but I doubt it. They’d been almost as bored as me last I heard.”

“If it’s nothing then let me see.”

“Ugh, do you really want to fight? It’s too hot for that,” Marinette complained. He started to square up and she, after a second’s thought, added a little something to convince him: “Also, there’s going to be a breakout today so you should really save your energy.”

“... really think I’m going to fall for that?”

There was an explosion in the distance.

“Yeah. I’d hurry. I’m pretty sure it’s Joker’s turn to get out.”

She waved him off with a smile… only for her smile to drop when she remembered her other job. She groaned again and stretched out while she still could.

Tikki floated over the side of the building, a magnifying glass as big as her head in her tiny paws.

Marinette rubbed the kwami’s head. “You’re the best.”

Her kwami sighed. “That I am,” she said.

Marinette grinned and sent the film of Signal using his powers to her computer so she could give it to Calendar Man when it was due.

People were always so predictable in Gotham.

~

She supposed she really had been tempting fate when she’d thought that. Still, that didn’t mean she liked it that Fate had called her bluff.

But, actually, it seemed that Fate was the one that was bluffing. That had been her entire day. She had finished up her work and then went to one of her more stocked safehouses for a nap. She’d woken up to the buzzing of her phone when she’d gotten the message. She didn’t think she had messed up anywhere…

Her shoulders relaxed. She was probably fine. Which meant it was just Oswald Cobblepot being annoying. As usual.

Marinette flung the doors to the Iceberg Lounge open. Every eye in the room fell on her, but she only cared about the eyes of one person.

She stalked through the lounge, pulling one of her twin karambits from its sheath and pointing the curved blade towards him.

“What the fuck do you want? You really think that, after almost seven whole years of rejecting your wrinkly ass, I’m suddenly going to say ‘oh, yeah, I guess I’ll work for him now’? Leave me alone!”

Cobblepot wasn’t concerned even as her knife came to rest under his chin.

“Canary,” he greeted, regarding her cooly through his monocle.

Guards surrounded them. Marinette somehow managed to look unimpressed without anyone being able to see her face.

Everyone present held their breath… except for the two with weapons pointed at themselves. They knew that they would never follow through with it, especially not in a place as public as this. It was little more than a warning, a reminder, that either of them could kill each other at any given moment and chose not to.

For now, at least.

Cobblepot dismissed the guards with a wave of a gloved hand and she, after a few seconds, lowered her knife.

“What do you want?”

“Currently? For you to get off my table,” said Cobblepot.

She snorted but hopped down with ease. “I meant: why did you call me here?”

“... we should go somewhere else to discuss this. I assume you don’t do all of your business meetings in public?”

“Only if I know ahead of time that I’m going to say no,” she said.

He motioned for her to walk with him to a private room and, reluctantly, she followed. He had to think he had something on her, otherwise he wouldn’t have tried calling her there. She was curious.

They came to a room with a metal door and she cringed a little. Fun.

She dropped eight knives down into a tray and Cobblepot put down a gun, a knife, and his umbrella. She let a female goon pat her down and then checked Cobblepot over herself. Nothing she could find, but she was sure he had found some way to hide one somewhere.

They stepped inside as a pair and each took a seat on opposing ends of the wooden table stationed awkwardly in the middle of the room. She leaned back in her chair and propped her feet up.

“So, what’s the job?”

“I’m surprised you’re even going to hear it.”

She shrugged. “I’m curious.”

He nodded slowly before leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table, steepling his fingers in front of his face.

“Power poses don’t actually work, you know, that’s just lies so companies don’t actually have to deal with all the discrimination.”

“Is that true?” He asked.

She shrugged again. “Probably. I’ve never worked for anyone, so…”

He chuckled. She didn’t like that.

But he didn’t say anything on that subject. Instead, he just smiled a smile that looked weird on his face and gave her her mission briefing: “I want you to figure out the bats’ identities for me.”

Marinette stared at him for a minute before breaking out into laughter. She couldn’t seem to stop. She stood up to leave, still giggling. Really? Did he really think that would work? People had asked many times, of course, and the bats’ identities weren’t common knowledge so she had to have said no. Why would she suddenly do it for him? She didn’t even like him.

She rested her hand on the knob but held off on leaving for just a second. She flashed a grin at Cobblepot. “Interesting offer. Bold. But no. Couldn’t pay me enough to do that.”

“Good thing I have no intentions of paying you, Marinette.”

~~~

And behold a new section I call ‘Marinette is a menace to society why would anyone let her on twitter’

(… the name may need a little work)

OliverQueenOfficial: Why does that one Gotham villain go by Canary? Black Canary already exists.

TheBetterCanary: if youre gonna vague tweet maybe dont put my name in it

TheBetterCanary: but anyways someone else named me that and it stuck before i could think of something to change it to

ScareCrane:… @/RiddleMeThis she’s dissing you

RiddleMeThis: LISTEN UP. IT WAS THEMATIC. DON’T ANY OF YOU KNOW ANYTHING OF DRAMA? EVER HEAR ABOUT CANARIES IN COAL MINES? FUCK ALL OF YOU AND YOUR UNCULTURED, UNEDUCATED ASSES. NOT TO MENTION IT WAS MAKING FUN OF THE BIRD THEME ALL THE VIGILANTES HER AGE SEEM TO HAVE. (1/14)

TheBetterCanary: @/ScareCrane why would you do that you knew he was going to do this

ScareCrane: Joker just broke out so Arkham is boring… needed to entertain myself somehow

TheBetterCanary: fuck you im not visiting this weekend

OliverQueenOfficial: Wow do I regret asking. I didn’t need all this family drama in my comments.

~~~~~

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