#spending the past few days recovering has been a good break but now i want to get busy again ;;

[hairmetal666]

What if, after Vecna is defeated, Eddie lives and is recovering in the hospital and one day he's just gone. Like, Steve and the kids come to visit and his hospital room doesn't even exist anymore. It's just a blank stretch of wall. The nurses, nurses they know worked with Eddie, say they've never heard of Eddie Munson and there's never been a room where the kids insist there was the day before. Anyone else they ask says they've never heard the name, even though it was only weeks ago that the entire town formed a mob to hunt him down. Hopper and Murray look into it and there's no record of an Edward Munson in any database anywhere. His previous arrests are gone, his fingerprints, record of Wayne becoming his legal guardian, his social security number, his birth certificate. Even his Uncle Wayne, gone without a trace. Like neither man ever existed.

They search for years, always hoping for word, or a return, or anything. But Eddie was there one day and gone the next. Apparently forever.

They mourn, all of them. He was part of the group, part of the family, and then he was gone with no fanfare or goodbye. Then he was gone and every force in the world pretended like he'd never been there in the first place.

Steve, quietly, takes it hard. He spends weeks crying himself to sleep, clutching the ruined battle vest to his chest. It's just unfair, is all, Steve thinks. '86 was supposed to be Eddie's year.

Time passes and they all grow up, all move away from Hawkins. Steve and Robin move to Indy; she starts college and Steve gets a job at a little bakery because he's a regular already and they're hiring.

He loves baking, finds it calming in a way very few things are for him anymore. After a few good years, the store becomes his, and he didn't know he could be this happy or satisfied with his life, after everything.

He never stops thinking of Eddie.

Close to Steve's 30th birthday, a little bookstore opens up in the vacant building across the way. Steve sees the owner sometimes, dark hair pulled into a sloppy bun, pale skin, the occasional hint of black ink under his dark clothes. Beautiful. They wave at each other almost every morning and Steve ignores the reminders of Eddie. They're commonplace now. Any man with long dark hair, tattoos, and black clothing stirs a spark of recognition in Steve's gut, and the disappointment still hurts even after a decade.

Weeks pass and Steve notices a new display in the window of the bookstore; those dnd guides all the boys have, the dice with too many sides, the little plastic figures and pots of paints and delicate brushes. He vows, the next time the kids are in town, they'll go over and he'll finally introduce himself to that probably nice man whose only sin was a slight resemblance to a boy from Steve's past.

The kids come for a visit only a few weeks later, and are just as enthusiastic about going to the bookstore as he is to take them. He has them help bake his secret-recipe sugar cookies, decorate them in a dnd theme (Erica and Max say they're dorky, and he agrees, despite being pleased with the results).

Steve heads to the bookstore first, to warn the guy about the veritable horde of feral young adults about to descend on his quiet store.

He walks in to the sound of a gently ringing bell and Metallica playing at low volume on the store's speakers. Steve has to ignore it or he'll walk out.

"Be right with you," a muffled voice calls out.

"Take your time," he responds. He browses with the container of cookies in his arms, taking in all the dnd stuff, the signs about dnd club meetings, the stacks of new release books and a couple cds.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," a soft, husky voice says back at the front of the store. It breaks Steve out in goosebumps.

"Don't worry about it. I'm from the bakery across the street, wanted to finally introduce myself. I brought goodies," he adds, sort of blushing.

He steps back up to the cash register, eyes finally settling on the owner he's only seen from afar and all the breath leaves his body. It leaves him lightheaded, dizzy.

Eddie Munson. Eddie. Munson. Stands behind the counter, hair in a bun with messy tendrils around his face. He looks the exact same. Maybe a few more lines around his mouth and eyes. But the same.

"Ed--Eddie?" Steve's voice croaks out. He barely manages to drop the cookies onto the counter and not the floor.

Eddie's deep brown eyes flood with tears, a hand--every finger with a ring--covers his mouth. "Steve," the other man sobs.

There's no hesitation as Steve flings himself into Eddie's arms, the other man catching him and holding him tight.

Eddie squeezes him, crying against Steve's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he repeats.

"I can't believe you're real," Steve murmurs between soft sobs, pressing his face against Eddie's neck.

"I'm real. I'm here," Eddie agrees. "I'm right here, sweetheart."

Steve pulls out of the embrace a little, just to look at Eddie's face. To see after all these years. He presses trembling fingers against the line of Eddie's jaw, and the other man leans into the touch, lets Steve trace the contours of his cheeks, his mouth.

"You're here," Steve agrees.

Their eyes lock, drink each other in, ten years of longing dancing at the knobs of Steve's spine.

"They took me away," Eddie says, deep brown of his eyes serious and pleading. "The government. They snuck me out in the middle of the night and forced me and Wayne to adopt new identities, sent us to New Mexico. Monitored us so I couldn't contact any of you. It killed me, Stevie. To be away from you. From Robin. The kids."

That snaps Steve out of his daze. "Oh, shit. The kids."

It's too late, though. The bell at the door jingles, the usual cacophony that accompanies the seven of them filling the little store in an instant.

Dustin's voice rings out, above the others, "this store is so fucking cool."

"Language," Eddie scolds on auto-pilot. When he realizes what he said and why, his eyes wash with new tears.

The kids turn, as one, to the man they never thought they'd see again.

Steve's fingers dance down Eddie's arm, finding his hand, twining their fingers together. Eddie tightens his grip. Steve's never letting go of this man ever again, and he knows with some deep, element certainty that Eddie feels the same.

"Eddie?" Dustin exclaims.

"Hiya, kid." Eddie smiles a little, ducks his head.

"What the fuck," Max says.

"Anyone have time for a story?" Eddie asks. He dashes away the few tears that track down his cheeks.

"We have all the time in the world," Steve agrees. Doesn't think before he lifts Eddie's hand and presses a kiss just below his knuckles.

[goldsbitch]

Hi🥹 cam I just say that I love your writing?

Would you be able to write something with Lando or oscar (his sister) of him/ them surprising her for her birthday? Possibly she likes christmas a lot so a christmas in July with lots of christmas deco.

It's my birthday soon and I don't really have anybody to celebrate with which is fine but I still wanted to ask

Xx

this is by far one of the sweetest asks I've ever read - sorry for taking such a long time! i got sick and the mind was just too cloudy

i do hope you'll like this. i've finished it just after the race, so it's not as fluffy as i intended this to be. hopefully we'll recover from that soon

anyway - happy birthday!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Christmas in July

2 days before Hungarian Grand Prix 2024 and Y/N birthday

"What brings her joy?" Lando asked as if he spoke of some impossible philosophical dilema. The only thing missing was a big white board for him to stare at. It was sometimes hard to decipher when he was joking and when he was being serious. But Oscar knew one thing - this guy would rather gather up a crowd before sorting out something on his own. He had currently set up a "war council" as he called it not-so-dramatically in order to figure a way how to approach the his sister's birthday. Among others present was his teammate.

Oscar had a dilema of his own, sitting there on a chair with few other people present on this strange meeting Lando held in his hotel room. While his teammate was trying to figure out how to cheer up his sister, who was suppose to be spending her birthday with her best friend in Budapest during their Grand Prix, Oscar was trying his best not to raise any suspicion. Nobody here knew it was nearly impossible to count the nights he had spend secretly texting with Lando's sister. It was innocent. Just two friends wishing each other good night every other day. Definitely not crossing the line at all.

Lando did not share details as to why he was suddenly putting himself in charge or his sister's birthday with the group. She had a whole thing planned with her best friend for Hungarian summer race weekend. Not even Lando had that many details about their falling out as Oscar had.

In a way, he was glad that Lando took this initiative and he could hide behind him, making sure her brother did not cross the line or got too carried away. And ensure that Y/N had the birthday she deserved. A girl probably too sweet for their world anyway. Once again, Oscar had to stop himself before he lost his thoughts completely. She was just a friend. His teammate's sister. Nothing more.

Ugh.

//

Sun kissed people smiling in streets older than time itself. Ancient glory still piercing through the cobblestones and some kind of magic the locals put to the water here, making it all dreamy and mystic.

Yeah, that's all great and amazing - unless you're there alone, bored and mad at everyone. Even the bloody sun was too much these days. And coffee too bitter this time.

Y/N was people-watching, while she enjoyed her scenery coffee alone. Every group of friends walking by and enjoying their summer felt like a personal attack. Somehow, every happy couple in the surrounding area must have decided to take a stroll around the city and her ever-so-single self had to watch it all happen.

Having a fight with a bestie is hard on its own, it's absolutely amazing when it happens around ones birthday. Right now, there were suppose be having a blast in a local spa and preferably talk about the latest boy they'd flirted with the night before. But no.

The dread of having a fallout with a friend is often worse than a break up.

There was only one person she truly wished to text at that moment, but their texting has been getting out of hand for the past days. She tried to avoid wallowing in the memories of her blushing at her phone last night. She was just a friend to Oscar, nothing more. It was impossible - he was her brother's teammate! A very sweet, funny and irresistable teammate. She imposed a self-ban on her, no texting Oscar during the day. At least today.

//

"What if I... hire a horse and have her ride on it to the paddock!" Lando said, desperation dripping from his mouth.

Oscar chuckled, this was way too much fun to watch. Lando shot him an intimidating look, making the poor guy worried for a moment. He can't possibly know, right? Oscar gulped, swallowing his next chuckle.

"Something funny, Osc?"

"No, certainly not." Never once has Oscar felt more like a school boy that right there. "Although, I would question if this is something she would truly enjoy. I imagine she is a little shy for that."

He did not need to imagine anything - he could practically see her horrified texts incoming. It has been few hours since she's responded. It was getting harder for Oscar to keep lying to himself a pretending it did not bother him.

"Yeah, you're probably right," Lando replied after a moment o thought. "Fuckin' hell. I can't just buy her a necklace. That's so lame."

Oscar agreed. Unless it was a personal one.

"I'd say you should keep it private and sweet."

Lando was getting slightly annoyed, as no clear idea seemed to come up. "No, Oscar, it needs to be an absolute bomb. Gotta cheer her up somehow."

The Australian man could not argue with that. "True. Come on, what does she like?"

"I dunno, it's hard. And like, we don't have much time. to organize," Lando sighed. He should have prepped this sooner.

Unlike Lando, Oscar had a very clear idea of which direction to go to. He just couldn't be blunt about it. "When have you seen her happiest?"

Lando frowned, his eyebrows dancing in deep thoughts. "I dunno, when she brings home a new guy?"

Oscar's stomach did a u-turn at the idea of Y/N bringing guys home. More specifically, guys that were not him. "No, I meant like - time of the year of something like that."

Silence fell over the room. "I dunno, on her birthday, maybe?! What the fuck is your point?" Lando asked bluntly. Oscar bit his lip, this was going to be painful. It was simple, obvious, hell anyone who knew her at least a bit would know the one thing she absolutely loves was Christmas - and why not have Christmas now? Get a little tree, pump it up and make it all a big jolly fun.

"Yes, but like, time of the year - what does she like the most?" Oscar tried once again.

Lando was getting impatient. "Are you hinting on anything specific or just shooting in the dark?" It sounded more like a threat than a question. Oscar had no choice but to back down, worried he might have to reveal things he wished to be private at the moment. His massive crush on Lando's sister being the main thing he had to hide.

"Nope, just trying to give you pointers..." he said and sunk deeper in his chair. For a good chunk of the next 20 minutes he had to listen to the "war council" coming up with mediocre ideas like booking up a private spa in the city centre.

//

1 day before Hungarian Grand Prix 2024 and Y/N birthday

Lando woke up with a vision, a genius idea and a ground breaking concept - Christmas in July! Scratched all his other plans and had his team working on the ever-so-easy task of getting a Christmas tree in the middle of summer, on a weekend of all days. Many curse words were uttered in secrecy by his assistants.

Nevermind the three Christmas themed TikToks Oscar sent him, trying to steer his subconsciousness.

Lando created a massive group chat, instructing everyone not to acknowledge Y/N birthday the following day and to wait for the celebration after the race. Everyone was invited. Including Oscar, who was skeptical about leaving Y/N guessing the whole day. But, it was Lando's call. So he obeyed.

//

Hungarian Grand Prix 2024 and Y/N birthday

There was a strange energy in the air the whole day. Y/N had a very little contact with her brother, as he was fully deep in prep for his race. Oscar was also completely MIA. It was all terribly, terribly lonely. She shouldn't have come here. Her secret hopes of getting some alone time with Oscar totally clashed with the fact he was busier than usual. Birthday was no big deal anyway, right? Phone calls she received from her family were precious and were enough - at least this is what she tried to convince herself with when she sipped another lonely coffee. The buzz and excited people around the paddock not helping her. Nobody seemed to care. She would have thought that Oscar would. But no.

//

It was supposed to be a joyous celebration. But after the very questionable race they'd all just gone through, it was all but that. Lando really tried to push his real emotions back and be there to celebrate his sister. But it was just not working at all. Part of his wished he had done this thing the evening before. He was exhausted, pissed, sad and just wanted to go home. And she could see right through him.

When she got picked up by a driver and taken to a location unknown to her, she knew what was up. But, the decorations surprised her - someone really went all out. Christmas lights and decorations covered the whole room and big banquet with enough food to last them to the next December. It was a dream come true. But sometimes, it just takes few people to make an evening special. And the one she really wished to attend wasn't there.

Happy birthday! I hope your party is all you could have wished for. I was looking forward to be there with all of you, but I think my presence would taint it today. Hope you have a blast and have a wonderful year ahead of you!

The text lingered, as she toasted with another random person. As if it burned on her phone and through her pocket.

Thank you - congratulations of your first win!

It was a dry, cold response. But she did not have more in her to write. He did left her on read for two days. She had to remember her loayality towards her brother, who did go and created the best evening she could have asked for. She saw him, sitting at a table, deep in his own head. She went to sit next to him.

"Penny for your thought?" she nudged her brother. As soon as she spoke to him, he put on his fake smile on, the one he used the whole evening to hide his real emotions.

"Just happy you're happy," he said, clouded by his own emotions too much to see that she was in fact not having a good time. But both can pretend in order to protect the other.

"It is magnificent," she said, looking around at the massive Christmas tree. "Thank you."

Lando smiled weakly, getting sick of that sentence.

"Lando, I can see you're feeling really down. You do not have to be here just to please me. It must be horrible," she said, taking on the role of the supporter.

Her brother was crunched to his seat, visibly exhausted and completely over this bloody day. He couldn't look at her, as he felt incredibly selfish by making this about him again. As he always did.

"I'm a shit brother sometimes. I just want you to be happy," he responded.

"What a long we've travelled from you hitting me with a stick everytime mom turned around."

Lando let a small laugh out and finally looked at her.

"Ok, brother, I can't have you staying here, looking like you're about to drop dead any minute. Go do what you need to do. And we both know that is to get out of sight and have some alone time," she ordered, not having it anymore.

"You're right. As always. And hey, about that annoying friend of yours...I'll be alright. I'm sure of it." Lando never liked her, but he knew that Y/N loved her, so basic respect it was from him. Y/N's bigger issue at the moment was Lando-Oscar relationship. And her little crush. After the event today, it just seemed so out of the window.

"All will be alright," she replied, trying to convince herself more than Lando. "Now get off my party, you weirdo," she said jokingly, knowing well enough with him gone, there will be no one she truly liked left on her party. Just Lando's friend and few people from his team. But that was a reasonable price to pay for letting her brother go and deal with his emotions.

//

A knock on the door. Y/N came to the hotel quite late, but apparently someone wanted to come to visit even later.

She slowly opened the door, only to find a somewhat drunk Oscar swinging from one side to another, having troubles standing straight.

"Ssshh," he gestured immediately upon her opening the door, making in fact a louder sound than she ever planned on making.

"Oscar!" she whispered, surprised. Her heart must have stopped temporarily. He was there, standing in front of her. They were alone, for anyone to see. He was gorgeous. Stripped out of any inhibitions, barely keeping his eyes open.

"I'll stay here," he announced, rejecting an invitation that was never uttered. "I can't make your brother mad, not today. As you know."

Y/N was in a slight panic mode - the universal panic only one's crush can induce.

"I...have. A gift for you," Oscar mumbled and finally revealed his hand which was behind his back this whole time. It was a small box wrapped in the cheesiest Christmas paper. Y/N couldn't but smile at the awkward way it was wrapped, obviously Oscar himself took the time to do it on his own. "I wanted-wanted to give it to you this evening, but you know. Racing got...dramatic," he said, tripping over his own tongue. Y/N leaned closer and tried to stable him, which he rejected. "No! I will not come to your room today, no matter how much I want to," he continued denying offers that weren't made, making her laugh a bit. Drunk Oscar was a very cute Oscar. "I value you. And our...it's not a relationship, but it's also not a friendship, so let's just call it a ship," he reasoned, burped and then continued. "I value our ship and I do not want anyone to think I'm taking ad-advantage of you, so it must be done right. Today is not the day," he said, pointing his finger up. "Take this," he pushed his gift to her hands. "Lando said a necklace is a bad gift, but I don't think so. This will look pretty on your neck."

Y/N never took Oscar as a talkative drunk. But it was sweet to watch him, no boundaries at all.

"Thank you, Oscar. This is so nice of you," she said, still fighting her own surprised reaction.

"Good. I will go now. Today is not the right day to tell you I have a crush on you," he said and marched through the hallway, hopefully to his hotel room.

It was impossible to wipe off the smile out of Y/N face. Her crush liked her back. Gave her a beautiful gift.

But he was right - that day was not a good day for them to get together. But, a ship has definitely sailed.

[lewdlodge]

Lately I’ve been thinking about having a phrogger in your house. Originally they meant to stay for just a day or two, but as they watched you glide throughout your house completely carefree in nothing but panties, more sinister thoughts came to their mind:

Normally you stay up late playing video games, and watching your favorite shows. Indulging in a couple beers throughout the night. Oddly, the past few nights you’ve been getting extremely sleepy after just one. At first you think it is just the all nighters finally catching up. But, on the third night, you wake up with your panties gone and a wet spot on the bed.

It’s impossible to explain it though, you just shove it to the back of your mind, and wash the now dirty sheets. The next night arrives and you try your damndest to stay awake. You manage to obtain an extra 30 minutes before you’re completely knocked out. However, this night is different, you slightly wake up a bit in the middle of the night.

The shaking of the bed causes you to try to open your eyes, but they feel too heavy. You manage to get them open just enough to see a shadowy figure hovering over you, but then you fall back asleep. The next morning your head is pounding, and you can’t remember if what you saw was a dream or real. You decide it’s best to shrug it off as another one of the dark fantasies you dream about occasionally.

During the day that dream doesn’t leave your mind. Keeping you in a constant emotional state of fear and neediness. Right before dinner you hear a bang in the ceiling, so loud you thought a tree landed on the house. Getting nervous, you call your guy best friend over, hoping he’ll help you feel safe.

The next night comes around and as usual you’re knocked out early. When you wake up your body is ravaged. Your shirt is ripped open, legs spread, and cum leaking out of you. Naturally, you freak out. “How the hell did I not wake up?”. You look at your “best friend”, blaming him for taking advantage of you in your sleep. The police get involved, arresting him, and allowing you to spend a few nights at the station to feel safe. When you recover from the experience you find yourself back at the house.

It’s terrifying, but you have nowhere else to go. Because of all that’s happened you find yourself drinking more, intoxicated and unable to even stand without a prop. A couple hours pass and you slowly wake up to the sounds of moans in the background. You attempt to reach for the tv remote, assuming it’s just some movie. But, your arm is clung tightly to your back. Your heart begins to pound and suddenly your hangover is cured. Your eyes open and immediately drift to the living room TV in front of you.

You watch intently for a moment, terrified of the realization. “That’s me?” You begin frantically attempting to break out of the restraints you’re placed in. Then you freeze. A creak in the floorboard occurred behind you. “Oh, is my doll finally awake?”

He slowly walks towards you, and you can’t help but jump as each loud footstep slams against the floor. Your mind blanks, and before you know it he has your face firmly in his hand. “Hi beautiful, do you like our movie?” He delivers a kiss to your forehead, and places himself directly behind you, his hands slowly exploring your body.

“I’ve so been looking forward to this, I knew you loved me when you intoxicated yourself last-night. I knew you needed me.” His fingers start to softly rub your clit, and you burst into tears. “P-please. Don’t hurt me.”

He lets out a gasp, “I would never hurt you. I only want to give you pleasure. Look at the movie. See how good you feel.” Suddenly a loud moan of yours comes from the TV. One you never remember screaming. “J-just. Please don’t do this.”, you murmur.

His fingers hasten on your parts. “You’re just being dumb. Here. Let me show you daddy’s love.” His firm dirty hand grips your face, forcing you to watch the TV in front. His other hand never stops rubbing you relentlessly. Unfortunately, it feels good. “Watch”, he commands. Your body is shaking, not feeling strong enough to disobey. “Yes, I’ll watch.”

Previously your eyes would not dare watch the TV. You only listened to the sounds. But, now that there is no choice you begin to question yourself. In the movie you’re doing as your told. Opening your legs and mouth when commanded. Moving your hips into his thrusts. You love it. The tape skips forward a bit, cutting to the night your best-friend took advantage of you. It all clicks in your mind.

You watch intently as this strange man fucks you violently right beside your best friend. He gropes your chest and kisses your lips mere feet away from the person you blamed it all on. The movie ends right as he shoves himself deep inside you, filling you with his cum. You just watched yourself get breed by an unknown man, yet, your parts are even more soaked. His fingers are starting to build you up, and you can’t help yourself. “P-please, can I cum?” He lets out a laugh, kissing and then biting your neck. “Cum, doll.”.

As you let go you feel yourself becoming brainwashed. It feels so good, but his fingers still never stop. You need more and right now he can give it. “What are you princess?”, he whispers. Without hesitation you reply in a monotone voice, “I’m your cum doll daddy. Please, please fill me up.”

He forces you facedown into the floor and fucks your holes until dawn. This time not even giving you the decency of cleaning up. He simply leaves you on the floor covered in filth. This time there is no doubt it’s real. But, how can you be sure? What’s one more night, just to be positive. It may have all been a dream.

[green-eyedfirework]

The sounds of the fighting have greatly died down in the past few minutes and Dick still hasn't managed to unlock the door.  It's fucking barred from the outside, he's managed to figure that out, and strong hinges too, if it held against his battering.

He got free of the manacles—there was enough sweat to wrench his hands free, even if one wrist is scraped and bleeding and the other has a dislocated thumb—and he managed to get his clothes back on, but this stupid fucking door.

Dick blinks furiously, jaw tight.  The entire room is soaked in his scent and he doesn't know if the fact that the smell of heat has overpowered the smell of his emotions is a mercy or not.  His fingers are trembling, his breaths are too high, and his entire body is sore in ways he's trying very hard not to think about.

He just needs to get out.

There's a part of him pointing out that it's not that simple, that he's still on a ship in the middle of open ocean, that he has no idea who's attacked the Blockbuster or why, that his situation will not greatly improve outside this small cabin, that he may be locked in here but at least he's alone, but Dick ruthlessly suppresses that voice.

If he thinks too hard about it, he will break, and he didn't get to be one of the youngest fucking captains in the Royal Navy by shattering into tiny pieces at every difficulty.

Dick pounds on the door in frustration—and realizes, too late, that the sounds on the other side of the door have ceased.

Oh fuck.

Dick edges back when he hears scrabbling at the door, grabbing the letter opener off the desk—not a real knife, but it has a sharp edge and Dick needs something—and willing his fingers to stop shaking as the door is unbarred and finally opened.

The people peering inside aren't Desmond's men.  Their attire is too colorful to be privateers—one part of Dick relaxes, the other part tenses up.

Corrupt privateers to pirates.

Frying pan.  Fire.

Both pirates immediately wrinkle their noses, discreetly coughing at the abrupt influx of concentrated heat scent.  Dick hasn't left the cabin in two days.

This should be his opportunity to attack.  Strike while they're distracted, and get free.  His grip on the letter opener is weak in his less-injured hand, and he tightens it as much as he dares.  But on his first step, pain goes lancing up his spine, and by the time he grits his teeth through the spike, the pirates have recovered.

"That's a Navy uniform, isn't it?" one says to the other, slowly grinning.

"A captain's uniform," the other rejoins, eyes tracing the distinctive gold detailing on his collar.

"I thought we already killed the captain of this saltwrecked heap," one narrowed his eyes.

"I'm not the captain of this ship," Dick says tersely, affronted at the very thought.

Both pirates—he can't tell designations, he can't smell anything over the too-syrupy scent of his heat—look at each other and shrug.

"You're still a captain," one pirate says, and she's smirking, "and our captain loves to have fun with pretty omega captains."

The chill that goes down his spine is colder than last time.  Sharp and icy with intimate knowledge of what exactly she means.  The reasonable part of him points out that he cannot hope to take them on both, and the entire ship after that.  The illogical part of him just attacks.

He doesn't want to go back to that, he can't go back to that, he will do anything to avoid spending the rest of his life shackled to a pirate's bed, one day was bad enough.  He's a good fighter, he's a great fighter, but he's fighting his lingering post-heat, the stabbing pains between his legs, the bruises all over his body, the sharp, throbbing bites around his neck, and a bleeding wrist.

One of the pirates grabs the hand with the relocated thumb, and the world goes white.

When it comes back, Dick has been disarmed, arms wrenched behind his back, and is being marched out.

The yawning horror is enough to seize the breath from his lungs.  The heat scent is a mercy now, to hide the scent of his blinding terror under the cooling scent and smells of sex he hasn't been able to rub off.  It's heavy and thick, and more than one pirate coughs or turns away as he's dragged out.

The ship is full of dead men.  Dick doesn't recognize all the bodies lying on the deck, but they're all dressed in privateer's uniforms.  The pirates seem jubilant and victorious, vastly outnumbering their prey, and Dick realizes why that is when he catches sight of the hulking ship next to the Blockbuster.

He loses his breath.  He's seen the Deathstroke too many times to not recognize it, even at night and lit only by the moon.  And that means the pirate captain he's being dragged to face is—

"Captain, we found this one in the captain's cabin," one of the two holding him calls out to the silver-haired man supervising the looting, as Dick digs his heels against the deck, the frantic beat of his heart pounding no, please, no.

Captain Slade Wilson of the Deathstroke turns and goes dangerously still when he spots Dick.  Dick's last, desperate hope that maybe he's too disheveled to be recognizable dies an ignoble death at Slade's slow smile.

"Captain Grayson," Slade says, voice dropping to a more predatory tone.  "What a pleasant surprise."

Of all the pirate ships and all the pirate captains, did it have to be this one?

"What brings you here?" Slade asks, stalking closer.  Dick automatically presses back, but there's nowhere to go, his captors' grips are too tight.  "Supervising this ship?  Watching over your interests?  I have to say, I thought you were too straitlaced for smuggling."

Dick manages to suck in a breath, enough to say, as evenly as he can manage it, "I don't answer to pirates."  His voice is hoarse but at least it doesn't crack.

"You're at the mercy of my crew, Captain Grayson," Slade smirks.  "We'll get you to answer one way or another."  He steps closer, until he's in Dick's personal space, and takes a deliberate sniff.  "Or was this a tryst, hmm?  Is that why you don't want to answer?  Are you ashamed?"

The words are pointed and sharp and Dick's armor has already been stripped.  He can feel each one sink in.

"Fuck you," he spits as loudly as he can to cover up the tremor in his tone.  His captors take offense to the tone and Dick is forced down with an angry snarl, hitting the deck on his knees with a lance of pain that goes straight through him.  Dick can't suppress the way he arches, face twisted around a mostly silent scream.

When the flare of agony recedes, he's trembling, taking in ragged breaths and trying not to shiver.  It's a grim reminder of what awaits.

Dick sets his jaw and tries his best to glare as Slade crouches, still looming over him.  He jerks back—first a flinch and then more desperate—as Slade reaches out, but between the pirates holding his arms and the deck below his knees, there's nowhere to twist or turn as Slade grabs his collar.

The alpha rips the cloth down with barely a thought, leaning in with an inscrutable expression as he grips Dick's neck in a powerful hand, and Dick is too weak to fight the grip.  Slade tightens the grasp to bare Dick's neck and Dick just squeezes his eyes shut as he waits for the bite.

He knows what it feels like.  He knows how his limbs will get weak and trembly, how the world will narrow down to the alpha who bit him, how the submission will steal away any chance he has of fighting back.  How it will leave him all too aware of what's happening to his body.

Dick blinks up at the starry night sky, everything blurry, and waits.  And waits.  And waits.

He can feel Slade's hot breaths against his collarbone, igniting fresh throbbing in the bites that Desmond laid down, can feel the alpha's firm, inescapable grip tight against Dick's throat, can feel the nose pressed against his skin.

Can hear Slade breathing deeply.  Inhaling deeply.

The grip shifts, tilting Dick's head the opposite direction, and he tenses again, but Slade doesn't bite down on this side either.  He's just....sniffing Dick.  Scenting him.  Deeply, past the overpowering smell of heat and sex.

Dick feels dizzy when Slade releases him.

"Let him go," the alpha growls, and this close, Dick can smell the rage in his scent.  His heat scent is getting weaker, tugged away by the wind, and Slade's overpowering fury is acrid and thick.  The pirates immediately obey their captain, and Dick's arms are released.

Dick doesn't dare to wrap his arms around himself despite how much he wants to, doesn't dare to reveal that much weakness in a pack of sharks, but he can't help the slow exhale when the burning flare of Slade's attention moves off him and onto his guards.  "Where exactly did you find him?" Slade growls, and Dick winces at the deep alpha timbre to his tone.

"In the captain's cabin," one of them answers, "It was barred from the outside.  We heard pounding on the door and opened it.  And he had this."  Slade reaches up and takes the—letter opener, spinning it between his fingers with a frown.

Dick blinks in surprise when Slade offers it back to him.  He doesn't understand.  Is this—does Slade want him to fight?  Dick might ordinarily be good enough to give him a fight, right now he's in no state for a challenge.  He can't even sit without feeling the throbbing ache inside of him, much less attack.  But being armed is better than weaponless and Dick reaches out to take the blade.

Slade catches his wrist.  Dick freezes, but Slade's attention is on the cloth wrapped around his wrist, and the pirate captain gently tugs it free to reveal the scrape beneath it.  Dick winces at the sight—he's all but flayed off a patch of skin below his thumb, and there are cuts extended up the back of his hand.

The alpha makes a low, warning rumble, and Dick barely clamps down on the appeasing keen.  He's too raw to be calm with the full force of an angry alpha in his space—he's been attacked and held captive and assaulted and the violations have stripped him bare.  The threads of defiance he's clinging to are slipping out of his grasp.

There's a part of him—a small part, growing ever larger and ever louder—that just wants to submit and make it all stop.

“Take him to my cabin,” Slade demands after he straightens up, anger unfurling hot and thick, and Dick is too busy trying to breathe in the presence of overpowering rage to register his words.  Until he’s hauled up to his feet and pushed towards the boarding plank.

Something inside him goes cold, like a bucket of ice water dumped over his head.  Perhaps he should be grateful that Slade’s taking him to his cabin.  Desmond told Dick he’d throw him to the crew once his heat was over, and Dick has no illusions about his ability to survive that.

Dick keeps a firm grip on the letter opener and doesn’t struggle against his captors.  He only has one solid chance, and he can’t waste it here.  He forces himself to keep breathing and keep moving, even when his feet touch the deck of the Deathstroke.

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 20 - 616

one day in New York by UltravioletLightwaves

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 7,921 Tags: Flirting, Missions, Smut

Summary: Where else can you fight a giant insect in the afternoon, attend a fancy charity event in the early evening, and spend the rest of the night learning some surprising things about your coworkers?

Reasons why I love it: There is so much to love in this fic. The action is amazing, the team dynamics are super fun, and of course, the Stony flirting is fantastic. I adore Ultraviolet's writing style, it's so engaging and really makes the characters feel like real people. Plus, the smut is incredible. I love this fic so much, and I hope you'll go and check it out for yourself!

Quiet Time by saraid

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 3,943 Tags: PDA, Bad Ex Sharon, Relationship-Affirming Sex

Summary: They were just stealing a bit of quiet time.

Reasons why I love it: I actually like Sharon as a character in canon, but I'm also a big fan of her being a sort of evil ex of Steve's, so this fic is right up my alley. I love how Steve doesn't hesitate to stand by Tony and deals with the problem straight away. Definitely check this one out, it's great!

Ambigram by magicasen

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 10,265 Tags: Time Travel, Action, De-Serumed Steve

Summary: Steve's lost the serum. Steve's not an Avenger anymore. Steve's supposed to be past these types of missions, even if he'll never say no to punching Hydra goons in the face. But if the Avengers need him, Steve will answer their call. But then an unexpected visitor from the past joins the fray. Steve's past self has lots of things to say: about the future, the team, and Steve's relationship with Tony.

Reasons why I love it: I'm always a fan of multiverse shenanigans, and this one is no exception. Steve kind of breaks my heart with his insecurities about his place on the team, but the ending is so hopeful that it makes up for all of it. I love this one, and I hope you go and check it out for yourself!

In the Morning, I'll Be New by WhenasInSilks

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 5,055 Tags: Friends with Benefits, Light Dom/Sub, Hickmanvengers

Summary: “Please?” Tony’s voice is low and hoarse. It drags against Steve like the head of a match; a single puff of oxygen could turn that friction into flame. This is what it’s like, being with Tony. So many years spent wondering and here is the answer. It’s like being one breath away from burning.

Reasons why I love it: God, all the emotions packed into this are so good. The smut is incredible, and Steve's feelings for Tony are as beautiful as they are heartbreaking. Especially once you get to the end and that last sentence just punches you in the gut. I love this fic so much, and I bet you will too, so go and read it!

Everybody Got Naked and We Got Cap Back Day by Letterblade

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 5,085 Tags: Fix-It, Skrulls, Angsty Schmoop

Summary: The aftermath of the Civil War. Captain America is dead and buried, his country and her heroes torn and staggering. Iron Man, his friends lost or fallen, has been handed the wreckage of SHIELD. And, as the world slowly recovers, the secret council known as the Illuminati meets one last time, called together by the corpse of a shapeshifting alien Skrull, only to find that one of their own, too, has been replaced. In fear of an invisible invasion, two of the remaining council go investigating, and find a few ships out by Jupiter that don't at all belong...

Reasons why I love it: I want the title to be a national holiday from now on. I love how this fic turns canon on its head and brings Steve back into the story in a way that allows him and Tony to have a big, emotional reunion (and more). It's fantastic, and you should definitely read it!

[sitp-recs]

Omg do u have fic recs of Harry just flopping down pining for draco🤣 I saw the past you reblogged earlier

Hahaha I wondered if someone would ask this after seeing that post! My memory is bad for details but I’m pretty sure Harry pined hard in his bed at some point here:

Still Life, orphaned (M, 3k)

Nothing compares by @maesterchill (T, 3k)

Working in the International Auror division doesn't exactly lend itself to Harry finding love or having any sort of relationship, what with all the unsociable hours and catching bad guys and never being in one location for more than a few days. Not to mention the permanent fixture of his partner, Malfoy.

Hourglass Heart by @bixgirl1 (E, 5.2k)

It only happened once — depending on how Harry counted.

Poppiholla by @moonflower-rose (M, 12k)

Harry had accepted that he would pine silently for Malfoy forever, but one, humid summer might change that.

Take the Moon by @tackytigerfic (M, 15k)

Harry Potter has always wanted a family of his own, and when a deadly blood curse forces him into a marriage bond with his best friend Draco Malfoy, it looks like he might just have found one.

With Great Yawns and Stretchings by sugar_screw (T, 22k)

The coffee is very good. Really. And the cats are so cute. That's why Harry goes so often.

War Wounds by SilentAuror (E, 30k)

Some wounds take longer to recover from than others. HP/DM, with background HP/GW. Themes of alcoholism, love triangles, and dubious fidelity.

On Your Shore by @xanthippe74 (M, 35k)

Clearing out a remote house full of cursed collectibles in the Outer Hebrides? Not a problem for an experienced curse breaker like Harry Potter. Spending a week with the straight, happily-married man that he’s starting to have feelings for? And sharing a bed with him at night? Surely Harry can handle that, too.

Here's The Pencil, Make It Work by ignatiustrout (M, 49k)

Harry thinks "Why is Malfoy working in a coffee shop in muggle London?" is a much simpler question than, "Are you going to accept that auror offer and, if you don't, what will you do?"

The Boy Who Only Lived Twice by lettered (E, 54k)

Harry Potter is an Unspeakable. Draco Malfoy is the wizard who shagged him. Adventure! Intrigue! Secret identities, celebrities, spies! It's all right here, folks.

Modern Love by @tackytigerfic (E, 61k)

Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is.

Running on Air by eleventy7 (T, 75k)

Draco Malfoy has been missing for three years. Harry is assigned the cold case and finds himself slowly falling in love with the memories he collects.

Azoth by @lol-zeitgeistic (E, 88k)

Now that Harry is back at Hogwarts with Hermione for eighth year, he realises that something’s missing from his life, and it either has to do with Ron, his boggart, Snape, or Malfoy. Furthermore, what, exactly, does it mean when one’s life is defined by the desire to simultaneously impress and annoy a portrait? Harry has no idea; he’s too busy trying not to be in love with Malfoy to care.

Little Deaths and How to Avoid Them (or Draco Malfoy's Guide to Stop Dying and Start Living Instead) by nerakrose and dustmouth (T, 96k)

Malfoy is way too interested in coroner reports for somebody who's definitely not looking for ways to die, Harry wants to be friends with him, and Ginny wants to break up with Harry.

Turn by Saras_Girl (E, 306k)

One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

[lemonwrap]

Haven't I Given Enough? - Oneshot

Simon visits the graves of his family. This is connected to Tongues & Teeth/Teeth & Tongues, but it's not a required read.

Read it on Ao3!

Ghost has been thinking about his family recently.

It’s been about a month since he moved in with Soap, since he cut out the brand, since they kissed. They’ve kissed a few more times since then, but Soap has still given him his space. Ghost appreciates it. 

Soap has been spending quite a bit of his time drawing, and Ghost has been searching for a job. He doesn’t have one yet, although he’s recently applied for two in the small town, and a few outside of it. He’s not expecting much of a response back, as he had a suspicious lack of work history for his age and no marketable skills outside of combat and being a weapon. But he wasn’t a weapon anymore. It was different now. 

But yet, despite his new life, his mind remains on his family. The remains of his old life. What were they like? Did they get along well with each other, or did they fight often? What were their personalities? It frustrates him that he doesn’t know. 

He’s read their obituaries online. 

James Riley, cause of death not listed. He had died years earlier, before the rest of the family. He’s buried in a separate cemetery from the rest of the family, though, which raises questions on what type of person he had been. 

Eileen Riley, Tommy Riley, Beth Riley, and Joseph Riley, cause of death all not listed. But Ghost knows what happened. Roba and the Zaragoza cartel had killed them, and Ghost couldn’t even remember it. Roba had beaten every single memory out of them or his past life out of Ghost, leaving him a hollow shell that he was only now recovering from. 

Losing his memory hadn’t been a sudden thing. It had taken years to break him, and the farther he goes back, the blurrier the memories get, until they’re just completely gone. He can’t remember his family, or his life before Roba, or the little things a person should know about themselves. He doesn’t know how he got to Roba, he only knows what Price and Soap had told him. He was part of the squad that went after Roba, and something went wrong. Simon went missing for a long, long time, and emerged as Ghost. And here he was, trying to lead a normal life now that he had killed Roba. 

He still has nightmares, flashbacks during the day set off by odd things, phantom sensations that make him ache. But they’re a little better. Soap makes them better. Ghost sometimes wonders what Roba had seen in him. Had he been a cruel man before? Or just an unlucky man? 

“Simon?” Soap asks him, pulling him from his reverie. They’re sitting on the couch next to each other, watching TV, although Ghost is more just zoning out than anything. “You good?”

Would you mind if I asked you something? Ghost signs, getting straight to the point. Screw it, he has to know. He has to see their graves. He can still see their blurry photos in his mind that he had seen on the obituary website.

“Not at all. What’s up?”

Ghost hesitates, suddenly losing a bit of his nerve. If Soap said no, he wouldn’t have enough money to go by himself, and wouldn’t until he managed to land a job. He has nothing except for what Soap has graciously provided him. 

I want to visit my family’s graves.

“Oh,” Soap says, looking relieved. “I thought you were gonnae say you wanted to leave.” 

Ghost hadn’t really considered the thought. 

“How soon do you want to go?” Soap asks. “I’ve definitely got enough saved for some plane tickets.”

Whenever you want to, Ghost signs, although he would really prefer to see them as soon as possible. It’s not like they’re going anywhere, but he still has this urge to see them. Maybe then he would remember. 

“Alright, then. I’ll get some tickets for next week, yeah?” Soap says. Ghost nods, incredibly grateful, and quietly puts his hand on Soap’s. Soap has always been far too kind to him, and while he still doesn’t understand it, he allows it. Maybe even cherishes it. 

——

One week and a plane ride later, they’re in Manchester. It’s where he grew up, and where his family home is, although he doesn’t recall a damn thing about Manchester, or his childhood. It was just what his file had said. He’s wearing his facemask and a hat, but his face was otherwise exposed to the chilly English air. Once, a local had asked why he wore a mask, and Soap had told them that he had an autoimmune disorder. Where he came up with that, Ghost has no idea, but it worked, because the local hadn’t asked again. 

“Do you wannae get some flowers or something?” Soap asks him. They’re in a taxi, and could stop at any number of places along the way. 

Ghost nods. Some flowers, or anything to put on their graves would be nice. Soap gets the taxi to drop them off near a local flower shop, within walking distance of the cemetery. Ghost is grateful but a little embarrassed that Soap is buying for him, seeing as he has little to no money to his name. 

“These ones look nice,” Soap comments, looking at some bright orange flowers labeled “butterfly weed”. Ghost likes them. He picks them up. 

Ghost just picks out what looks pretty, settling on butterfly weed, pink carnations, lilacs, and zinnias, one type of flower for each grave. Soap pays and they start their walk towards the cemetery, Soap occasionally looking at his phone for directions.

They soon arrive at North Hill Cemetery. It’s a rather large cemetery, and it takes some time to find the lot where Ghost’s family is located. It’s a rather crisp, cloudy day, and the wind nips at his exposed skin. Soap walks beside him, faithful as ever. After some searching, they finally stumble across Eileen Riley’s grave, and the rest of Ghost’s family. Their graves all sit right next to each other, united in death. 

Eileen Riley, his mother. 

Tommy Riley, his brother. 

Beth Riley, his sister-in-law. 

Joseph Riley, his nephew. 

They had all been so young when they died. They had so much time left, and Roba fucking took it from them. He feels a harsh sense of guilt. He had probably gotten them killed, and now he can’t even recall a single thing about them. He only knows their names, what had happened, of their existence because he had been told by somebody else. 

He tries to remember, he really does. He strains and fights, but it’s like they never existed in his mind. There’s just nothing there. They’re strangers to him. Ghost’s eyes grow watery and he averts them quickly, rubbing away with the heel of his hand. He can feel his lip wobbling and he sniffles, trying not to cry like a fucking child. Why can’t he just remember them? Why was that so hard? 

“Hey,” Soap whispers, grabbing his other hand and placing a gentle kiss on it. “It’s okay.”

A single tear manages to escape as Ghost signs, I can’t remember them.

“It’s okay if you cannae remember. It isnae your fault.”

Soap wipes the tear off his cheek with his thumb. 

“We’ve still got those flowers,” he offers. “Let’s put ‘em down, yeah?” 

Ghost nods, wiping the wetness off of his cheek with his sleeve. Soap gives him the four bundles of flowers. He places the first flowers, the pink carnations, on his mother’s grave. Tommy gets the butterfly weed, Beth the zinnias, and Joseph the lilacs. It hurts. It hurts that they’re dead and he can’t do a damn thing about it. Sometimes he wishes he had taken more time when he killed Roba, to avenge his family, Soap, himself.

Ghost spends a long time standing at their graves, wondering what they had been like, how much they all loved each other. He tries not to think about how scared they must have been when they died. He dries his tears and wanders back to Soap, who has patiently waited for him a few yards away. 

Let’s go home, he signs. 

[addierose444]

Meal Planning: Benefits and Challenges

I love meal planning and genuinely find it to be so useful. I first tried it nearly two years ago back when I was a software engineering intern. I documented my overwhelmingly positive experience in a post titled why I meal plan. Upon returning to college, I was back on a different, and worse, kind of meal plan. While I miss other aspects of living at Smith, one of my favorite parts about moving into my first apartment has been having my very own kitchen and getting to cook for myself. You can read more about my kitchen essentials in the linked post. While I do enjoy cooking, meal planning, meal prep, and simple meals are the foundation of why I can sustain and enjoy preparing the vast majority of meals for myself. This still isn’t the post I’ve alluded to in the past about my actual meal prep process. The goal is instead to highlight the benefits and address some of the challenges I’ve run into more recently. 

The main reason meal planning is invaluable to me is that it allows me to front-load and consolidate the decision-making. While I wouldn't literally starve without it, I'm significantly more likely to skip a meal when I've not planned one out. I know it sounds strange, but even if I'm somewhat hungry, I don't always have the mental energy to figure out what to eat. 

The most practical benefit is that it streamlines my grocery shopping which in turn saves me time at the grocery store and money. The cost savings come in a few forms. First of all, when done strategically meal planning can eliminate food waste. More significantly, meal planning cuts down on impulse spending at both restaurants and grocery stores. A good meal plan still allows you to eat out if that’s something you value. The difference is that it’s with more intentionality rather than desperation and hunger. 

A side benefit is that it makes me more aware of what I'm eating which presumably helps me to be a bit more health conscious. While I don’t have scientific proof of causation, there’s absolutely a correlation at least for me. 

Now on to the challenges. The problem is that you can’t always perfectly stick to your meal plan. That in of itself is okay. For instance, say there is some free food opportunity or you get invited to go out to dinner with a friend. In that case, a good meal plan simply adapts. A meal plan isn’t meant to constrain you and should simply be updated as circumstances change or if you simply change your mind about what you want to eat.

The actual challenge is when external factors impact your meal plan. Here are a few examples from this month. First of all, a few weekends ago I got a cold. This directly impacted my meal plan because I didn’t have the energy to cook. Besides, it made me want something like chicken noodle soup. Fortunately, I do keep an emergency can of chicken noodle soup as well as some instant ramen! And while I did recover in time, it did almost impact my ability to go grocery shopping and do meal prep for the next week. 

The following Friday, I prepared two servings of my polenta with sausage and peppers but managed to drop and break one of the bowls. I was thus forced to come up with a replacement meal for Saturday night. A similar but less extreme mishap was accidentally leaving my blue cheese in my grocery backpack. After being unrefrigerated for two days, throwing it out seemed like the prudent decision. In this case, I just had less yummy tofu spinach salads for the rest of the week. 

The challenge today and inspiration for writing this post was needing to replan on the fly due to there being no ripe bell peppers at the grocery store. This is a problem because peppers are a core ingredient for both of the meals I just mentioned. Fortunately, the frozen peppers were finally back in stock. While this unblocks the polenta meal, frozen veggies don't exactly work in a fresh salad. Thus instead of my normal baby spinach, I opted for frozen so that I could still make my spinach omelets. The good and bad thing is that I’d already done my usual meal prep of tofu for the salads and rice/tempeh for my rice bowls. Because the tempeh freezes well, the new plan is to use my salad tofu for tofu rice bowls. It should be okay, but I would have cut and cooked the tofu differently if I’d known it was going to be used for rice bowls. As for the tempeh, the plan isn’t fully set. I'm hoping to develop an alternate meal, but may end up simply making more rice next weekend.

I want the main takeaway to be that meal planning is incredible and can be as flexible as you need it to be. I’ll also leave you with a few learnings from the recent challenges I’ve encountered. First, always keep a few emergency meals on hand. Freezer meals can work here but ideally, you also have some shelf-stable options. Canned chicken noodle soup is perfect to have around in case you come down with a cold. I’ve also learned that grocery shopping is best done before meal prepping just in case items are out of stock or otherwise not to your liking. That being said, I probably won’t fully take this learning to heart as changing up my Sunday routine seems worse than the occasional forced adaptation.

[moon-lv3r]

i wish i could save your final breath ~ jimmy x ami

🦋 category: angst

🦋 characters: jimmy, ami, ami's mom

🦋 summary: in which jimmy finds out about ami’s condition and decides to see her one last time

🦋 warnings: nil

🦋 notes: 18x2 brainrot was so bad it led me to write this in two hours

i had no choice

  “We will meet each other again, once we accomplish our dreams.”

  What if his dream was gone? What if it was impossible? What if it faded right before his eyes? 

  His gaze rested upon the empty bed before him. The wrinkles were now gone, traces of its former occupant now gone. Memories of her lingered in his mind. Her smile despite the tears in her eyes, her paintings despite not knowing if she could live to the very next day to finish it. Promises, knowing that they will never, ever come to fruition. A face of hope, despite all that was against her…

  Her putting on the best face she could, all the while knowing her condition was deteriorating. How did she do it? How did she find the energy? How did she just… ease her way through? 

  Watching her take her final breath… he didn’t know if he made the right decision by flying over during his break to spend time together. He broke their promise. He had no choice. He couldn’t just leave her alone. Not while she was dying.

  He wanted to be there with her. To accompany her. To hold her hand… 

  It all began because of a phone call that was picked up by the wrong person, at the right time… 

  “Hello? Ami?” Jimmy spoke into the phone. It had been awhile since he last spoke to Ami over the phone at school. 

  His break was starting soon, he didn't know why, but he decided to make a call to Ami, despite being so incredibly busy with his game. One could use a good break. Maybe he’d meet up with Ami, and tell her all that she missed out on. Maybe he’d hear all about her trips too. 

  “Who is this?” A foreign voice responded. Jimmy frowned as he turned around to check if there was anyone queuing to use the school’s payphone. Nobody wanted to use it, much to his relief.

  “I’m uh, Jimmy,” he replied. “This is?”

  The soft, gentle voice on the other side paused for a second. Jimmy contemplated if he should hang up, perhaps he called the wrong number by mistake. Was he really this stupid? 

  “This is Ami’s mother,” came the reply. 

  Awkward… her mother picked up the phone instead… What does he even say?

  “Uh… nice to… erm meet you, how’s Ami?” He asked, trying to ease the tension. 

  Silence was all that he heard. No response was produced. He pursed his lips as time ticked by. Did he make a bad impression? How does he win Ami’s mother back? This was such an awkward situation to be in… 

  “Did Ami tell you?” Her mother finally responded.

  “Tell me what?” He asked. “About her boyfriend?”

  He could hear her mother sighing and taking in a deep breath. What was Ami supposed to tell him? What could be so bad? His curiosity had been intrigued, he had to know why.

  “Ami is… hospitalised. She has heart problems,” her mother spoke. “I don’t know if she’d want me to tell you… but…”

  Jimmy went silent. Ami was… ill? Why did she not tell him? How long does she have left? How long has she been ill? The words from her mother were beginning to feel like a blur, like wind blowing aggressively past his ears. Impossible to grasp… All this time… she had been ill? 

  “How long does she have left?” Jimmy asked, trying to keep his composure. His trembling hands had proved otherwise. 

  He could only hope for the answer he wanted to hear.

  To hear that she was recovering.

  That it was a small thing.

  Nothing to be afraid of.

  Yet, he had to get his heart crushed.

  “A few months to a year,” her mother answered. “It’s not much.”

  Just like that, everything he had in mind was reduced into dust. When the call had ended, all he could do was to hop right back into his work. He was trying to drown himself, to avoid thinking of it all. There had to be no way. This had to be some kind of a sick joke… it had to be. What else could it be?

  It was the truth. Cold, hard truth. Stone, cold truth. He could not change it. No matter how hard he tried. He could only accept it, he can’t change anything… but he could change his location… If he just flew over to Japan… He can’t let her die alone. He knew he’d regret not seeing her during her final moments. He wanted to be there. For her. 

  He had missed her so much. His eyes forgot the sense of normalcy, the lack of her in his life felt foreign. He was so used to seeing her when she was still in Tainan, his eyes had never gotten used to the lack of her. 

  And now he might lose her forever? 

  Why does life have to do this to him?   Couldn’t they have more time together? Why couldn’t they?

  Of course he packed up all of his items and set off to Ami’s residence. It had been a week since the phone call. He hadn’t told Ami’s mother about his plans. All that was on his mind was to see her. To be with her. 

  A student all alone in a foreign land, with one goal. He was lucky he knew Japanese. Each and every step he took, he only had her on his mind. He could only wish that he made it in time. Before they became two worlds apart, he couldn't let that happen… 

  Ami’s mother was surprised to see him at her doorstep, but took him in nonetheless. She told him the hospital she was staying at. He was seeing her soon…

  “Ami always talked about you,” Ami’s mother spoke over dinner on Jimmy’s first day at her house.

  “Really?” Jimmy replied, “What did she say?”

  He tried to put on a small smile despite the situation. To ease the tension as they spoke of the source of their emotional state. 

  “She said she had a boyfriend, 4 years younger than her, waiting for her in Taiwan. So she had to get better,” she replied, smiling as she ate her rice.

  Jimmy laughed, “I thought she already had a boyfriend.”

  She shook her head, “This girl… Ami… I don’t know what she’s thinking, lying to you. But it’s just been you.” 

  But it’s just been you…

  Has it always been that way? 

  The next day, they went to visit Ami. It was needless to say that she was surprised to see a face she hadn’t seen in so long. Jimmy looked at her as she was peacefully painting, looking the same as she always did, those years ago when they had worked together. The way every stroke gracefully tainted the paper before her, each colour blending in with each other perfectly.

  He forgot how much he missed watching her paint, every morning. The focused look she had on her face that showcased her passion and love for her work. He admired that. 

  “Did you miss me?” Jimmy decided to ease the tension by cracking a light-hearted joke. He flashed the widest smile he could as he walked over to the bedridden girl.

  Ami laughed as she carefully placed her paintbrush down and smiled at the man before her. Her smile was quickly gone as she suddenly realised that Jimmy knew, her eyes darted to her mother, who was standing by the doorway.

  “My mother told you?” She asked.

  Jimmy could only nod. “I missed you, you know…”

  “Me too,” Ami replied, as quietly as she could. Seeing Jimmy had made her forget about her condition for a short moment.

  The two exchanged words, sharing all that each other had missed out on. The laughter that they hadn’t heard in so long. Memories they spent without each other. All of the time that had left them, they were now earning it back. Ami was glad to know that Jimmy was doing something he had enjoyed. She was glad to know that at least one of them was doing something with their life. To know that one of them was alive and living, while the other lay dormant and dying. 

  Each sun passed them by, reducing the time that they had with each other. Each and every star sparkled in the sky, a beautiful sight among all that was all tragic. A reminder that soon, one of them would be no more. Yet, they remained together.

  Jimmy watched as Ami painted, her paintings as beautiful as ever. Never to disappoint. Sometimes, he forgot that time was expiring on Ami’s side. She looked so… fine, peaceful, at ease… How was he supposed to believe that she was dying if not for the machines that surrounded her. Each day, her condition worsened. Each day, she grew more reliant on machines, rather than her own body. It was beginning to show, yet her face tried to prove otherwise. 

  Who was she fooling if not herself?

  “Hey Ami?” Jimmy began.

  “What is it?” Ami asked.

  It was a stupid question that he was about to ask… Stupid really…

  “You said you wanted to go to Brazil right?” He asked while peeling apples. “With your boyfriend.”

  Ami laughed, “Well you know that there is no boyfriend now. But I still want to go to Brazil. To the other side of the world.”

  “What if… after all of this, we go to Brazil together?” Jimmy asked. Deep down, he knew that this was a promise never to be fulfilled. Yet, he still wanted to make one with her. Perhaps it could be a motivation. 

  “Jimmy…” Ami began, before letting out a cough, straining her voice. “You know my cond–”

  “You will get better,” Jimmy responded as he finished peeling his apple. “You will, I know you will. You’ve been alive for years, another year wouldn’t be difficult.”

  Ami sighed, “Jimmy please.”

  “Promise me, Ami. I promise to take you to every country you want to go to. Just promise me that you will get better,” He begged.

  Ami went silent as she tore her eyes away from Jimmy. She was sick, laying on a hospital bed, while Jimmy was well. Why was he wasting his time with her?   “I can’t promise that,” Ami replied. “You shouldn’t waste your time on me.”   “Its my time, let me waste it however I want. I want to waste them all on you, is that really so bad?” JImmy asked. 

  To him, all of the remaining time was enough to waste away. To spend all of them on her, not knowing when it will be their last…

  “But Jimmy–”   “Promise me. We will go to Brazil together. We will even go to… Korea! Wherever you are, I will be with you,” Jimmy continued.

  It was hopeless, deep down they both knew. Yet, Ami nodded. She promised him. A hopeless promise. 

  Perhaps false hope was all that they needed to survive this. 

  Time was never on their side. It was a constant torture to them. Ami drowned herself in her paintings. All of her memories in Tainan, noted down by a paintbrush. Each stroke imprinted her memories of her journey. Journeys she will never get to continue. 

  Jimmy continued to visit her, fearing that he would witness her final breath, hear her last words.

  They were in a fight against time, and they never stood any chance. Never had they ever realised what their future had for them. All they did was to live in the moment. To enjoy every second. 

  “Ami,” Jimmy began. He suddenly had an idea to ease the tension, it was stupid really. 

  “What is it now?” Ami asked.

  It was something Jimmy had never brought up to Ami. It was stupid, but he has been wanting to ask. It really was stupid. 

  “You know… your mother said that you have a boyfriend waiting for you back in Taiwan, so you have to get better,” He said, flashing her a smile. Despite all that was against them. 

  Ami laid back on her hospital bed in embarrassment. A wave of pink washed over her cheeks as she pondered over her next choices of words. What could she even say to undo what was said? 

  “Are you jealous?” She asked, her eyes meeting his.

  “Well… the boyfriend is right here now,” Jimmy answered, shamelessly. “Could’ve just told me you wanted me.”

  Ami laughed, memories of Jimmy teaching her how to say the word handsome flashed into her mind. It felt like the old days, where Jimmy was blessed with ignorance and they were free to do whatever they had enjoyed. 

  “You want to be my boyfriend?” She asked. “Even while I am on a bed?”   “I’d be your boyfriend, no matter where you are, what you are,” Jimmy answered.

  Ami narrowed her eyes at him, “Did you rehearse this beforehand? Did my mother put you up to this?” She interrogated. 

  Jimmy shook his head, “I missed you, Ami. I really do. I wish we could have all the time to travel the world together.”   “Jimmy, I… missed you too,” Ami answered. 

  They only have a few days left…

  She was painting again. It was in a notebook, with empty pages. Incomplete, for her to paint them with future promises she wishes she could fulfil. The false hope was all that was left of her driving force to live. The oxygen mask she wore everyday was a painful reminder of the days that were leaving her rapidly.

  Doctors came in and out of her room, concerned words being exchanged all day. A miracle was the sole cure for Ami. Promises were not enough to save her from an impending doom. 

  Medication after medication was delivered into her room, her end was slowly nearing. Yet, she put on a smile whenever she saw her mother and Jimmy. Her paintings remained as serene as ever, failing to capture the dying nature of the artist. Her hopes were scattered about her painting, all of her promises. Yet, despair could be found on the empty canvas, due to the same promises. 

  There was no saving her. She did her best. 

  Jimmy knew it too.

  It was a rainy day, thunder and lightning ran rampant. The mood was sombre, Ami had just finished speaking to her mother. Ami’s door slid open to reveal Jimmy.

  “Ami…” He began.

  Time was fading. Ami was on her last painting.

  “Jimmy…” Ami greeted.

  They knew.

  They both knew.

  “You… can’t die. Please,” He began.

  “Jimmy… I don’t want to either,” Ami answered. “I want to travel, to see the world… with you. I want to see your game come to fruition.”

  He sat close to her, his fingers intertwined with hers. Fate was just about to untangle them soon. Nothing had been on their side, aside from each other. But soon, one of them was about to bid a permanent goodbye.

  “The medicines are supposed to let you get better,” Jimmy began. “I don’t know why they won’t work.”

  “Not everything will work out in our favour,” Ami responded.

  “What did you do to deserve this?” Jimmy asked.

  Ami shrugged, trying to hold back tears. “I don’t know. But I am glad I met you. I am glad you’re here with me.”   “I am glad you’re here with me too. Just… stay longer, please,” Jimmy continued, his eyes looking at the heart beat monitor. 

  “I want to stay too,” Ami answered. “I promise.”

  “We will go to Brazil,” Jimmy continued. 

  “I will go to Brazil with my boyfriend,” Ami added, “We will travel to the other side of the world, together.”   “Together,” Jimmy confirmed, his hands holding onto Ami’s, tighter than ever.

  “And we will explore America, or maybe Canada next,” Ami added on, “Korea… Singapore…”

  Jimmy nodded, “We will go everywhere you want to go. Just say the word. I will take you there. I promise you.”

  Jimmy looked down at her paintings before looking back at her, an idea came into his mind, “Could you paint us?” It was like a final gift, for the both of them. Memories of sorts. It was a simple painting. 

  Ami nodded, starting a fresh new painting, on a fresh new page. She let go of his hand as she painted. The rain finally stopped, everything seemed peaceful now. Jimmy watched in silence as outlines of their smiling faces traced on the paper. Colour slowly filled them as the seconds ticked by. Jimmy decided to peel some apples again, feeding some to the artist before him.

  “It's beautiful,” Jimmy commented. “Like the person drawing them.”   Ami sniffled before she could reply, “Thank you, Jimmy.”   The drawing was one of them, at the lantern festival, holding onto one before letting it go into the night sky above them. All she had left to colour was herself, and the background. Jimmy was all colourful. The colour of the flames remained vibrant.

  Silence graced the room as Ami tried to move her paintbrush…

  “Jimmy,” Ami whispered as her breathing grew ragged.

  Jimmy shot up with concern. “What is it?”

  Ami could only smile. “Jimmy, thank you for being with me. I love you.”

  Her paintbrush left her hand, the heart beat monitor went flat. Her eyes closed, a single tear fell from her face. It was as though she knew her end was near.

  “Ami?” Jimmy shook her. “Hey!”

  She looked as though she was asleep…

 “Ami? Stay with me!” Jimmy shouted. “I love you too! Ami!”

  No response.

  “Ami! Please! Stay with me, I don’t want you to leave!” Jimmy continued as doctors entered.

  He had to be forcefully dragged out. Ami’s mother cried outside of the room. Jimmy was just numb. He had witnessed her final breath. The painting she never completed. The words she never got to hear. The trips she never got to go on.

  Why…

  He was numb.

  As the years went on, he could only run. Ignore all that he had felt. What could he do? A part of him had died with Ami on that day. The sight of Ami’s final breath haunted him. The sight of her empty bed the day after her death plagued him. The final words of Ami lingered around him. 

  The years slipped by. His skin was slowly beginning to forget how tight they had gripped onto each other. The trips still remained unfulfilled. All of the time they spent together, all they did was to hold hands. He wondered how her lips felt like… he was missing something he never had. He was slowly forgetting the weather on that day… had it been sunny throughout? What were they eating before she died? Was it strawberries? Grapes? What exactly were her last words?

  He was a changed person ever since her death… the years went by him, and now, he was fired from his own company…

  He looked into his boxes of memories… he found the book that Ami was painting, he flipped to the incomplete page. She was colourless, like a ghost. The empty pages… promises that never had the chance to fulfil itself… 

  Just like that, Jimmy found himself in Brazil, with the notebook filled with paintings. 

[naixaie]

. 🌙 ✨✨

[harley-sunday]

August Rush [02]

Summary: You’ve known Carlos for almost as long as you have been working in Formula One but you never expected it would take you seven years and a concussion to realise that maybe you like him as more than just a friend.

Pairing: Carlos Sainz jr x reader (OFC nicknamed Pip) | Max Verstappen x reader (best friends)

Warnings: None except tooth-rotting fluff 

Word count: 4.9k

AN: First of all, THANK YOU so much for all the love the first part got, you have no idea how much that means ♥ I hope you’ll like the next part - it’s pretty slow going (for now) but I like to think I make up for that with heaps of soft and caring Carlos :) 

Masterlist

Why don’t you come stay with me? 

It seemed like a perfect plan - you’d spend the remainder of your summer break with Carlos in Mallorca where his family has a vacation home, Max would be reassured because you wouldn’t be alone, and you’d happy to spend some more time with an old friend, hopefully enjoying the peace and quiet of the largest of the Balearic islands all while recovering from that tumble you took a few days ago. It would be nice and who knows, it might even be fun.

Well, right now fun isn’t necessarily a word you would use to describe the predicament you find yourself in because after eight hours of relatively calm seas the tides have turned for the worse in the past two hours and the ferry you're on is rocking up and down and left to right on the rough seas surrounding Mallorca. You’re still in your cabin, sitting on the floor with your back against the wall and your eyes tightly closed while listening to a true crime podcast that doesn’t really do anything to distract you but at least provides some background noise. 

“Almost there,” you mutter quietly to no one but yourself, hugging your knees closer to your chest. For a moment you debate texting Max but you don’t want him to worry and so you decide against it almost instantly, knowing it’ll be better to wait until you’re back on solid ground again. 

A call comes over the intercom then, informing those on board that the captain expects to dock in thirty minutes and asking passengers to return to their vehicles on the garage decks and those on foot to gather in the boarding hall. With a groan you get up, cursing quietly when a sharp pain shoots through your head because you really thought that things would have gotten better after almost four days and so you’re a little frustrated that they haven’t. 

You carefully make your way back to the lobby, using the walls for support until you find yourself at the front desk and hand the girl behind it your key back.

She looks at you curiously, “Are you ok, miss?”

You try to smile but you’re a little unsteady on your feet and so you shake your head at her, “It’s a little rough, that’s all.”

“Yes,” she gives you a reassuring smile, “it tends to be a little choppy around here but we’re about to enter the Baia d’Alcúdia, it’s usually a lot calmer there.” She points to a row of chairs behind you then, “If you’d like you can sit down there until we dock.”

“Perfect,” you reply, not missing how relieved you sound, “thank you.”

***

When you get off the ferry about twenty minutes later you’re a little surprised to see it’s still dark outside, the streetlights casting a faint glow over the near-empty parking lot. You’re still nauseous and not really paying attention to your surroundings and so you don’t realise it’s Carlos who’s coming towards you until you almost bump into him at the end of the pier.

“Hey,” he says, holding out his arms for a hug, eyebrows knitting together then when you shake your head at him.

“Rough seas,” you tell him as if that explains it all but then again, it kind of does. You let out a ragged breath and warn him, “I feel like I’m about to throw up.”

Carlos pouts in sympathy but puts his hand on your arm and presses a light kiss to your cheek anyway, “Still, it is good to see you again.” Without asking he takes your suitcase from you and motions towards his car, a red SUV that even in your state you know is going to be fast. He throws you a wink and then, as if he’s read your mind, “I’ll drive slow,” 

“Thank you.” It comes out barely above a whisper and you doubt he’s heard you so you clear your throat and try again, “Thank you-” you wait until he’s put your suitcase in the trunk before you continue, “Not just for driving slow but for offering me to stay with you, that’s-”

“Pff,” he waves his hand around dismissively, “don’t worry about it.” He rounds the car then and opens the passenger’s door for you, “I’m actually looking forward to spending some time with you.”

Huh. Your nausea is temporarily forgotten as you try to figure out what exactly he means but before you have the chance to ask him he’s closed the door and is making his way over to the other side of the car. You watch him as he gets in, trying to see if there’s anything in his body language that might give something away even though you’re not sure exactly what it is you’re looking for. 

He seems oblivious as he starts the car but there’s a hand on your knee then, giving it a gentle squeeze, and he looks at you with a warm smile, “Just let me know if you need me to stop the car, ok?”

“Yep,” you nod, not missing the sharp pain that shoots through your head at the sudden movement and so you close your eyes and take a deep breath, willing the pain to go away. 

Carlos must have seen it though because his hand remains on your knee, “You ok?”

“Hmhm,” you agree half-heartedly. Another deep breath before you open your eyes again, “It’s already heaps better than it was but-” you hesitate when he looks at you like he doesn’t quite believe you. Maybe it’s better to be honest, you think, after all he needs to know what to look out for and so you tell him, “My head still hurts a little throughout the day, and I get these sharp pains whenever I make sudden movements, and when I stand up too quickly I get a little dizzy. Most of all I’m just really tired-” 

Carlos doesn’t say anything but the way he tilts his head tells you he’s about to.

“It’s nothing serious,” you offer quickly. “The doctor said it could take anywhere from a few days to a couple of months before I’m back to normal. I just- I have to take each day as it comes basically.”

“Will you promise me something?” He waits until you agree before he continues, “I know you like to downplay your injuries, I mean, remember that time in Austin when-”

“I do,” you tell him with what you hope is a reassuring smile but must seem like more of a grimace, not necessarily wanting to be reminded of the time you ran into one of the Toro Rosso engineers in the garage during qualifying. You took a tumble which resulted in a broken wrist even though you claimed it was nothing more than a bad sprain and held off a hospital visit until the next day when you could barely move your hand because it was so swollen. 

“Promise you’ll be honest with me this time?” He looks at you, “Don’t tell me you’re fine when you’re not, ok? I can handle it. Just tell me the truth.”

You nod, “I promise.” 

“Good,” another gentle squeeze before Carlos pulls his hand back and puts the car in drive. “ Like I said, I’ll drive slow, ok?” 

***

Fifteen minutes into the drive you suddenly remember you promised Max you'd send him a text once made it to Alcúdia and so you curse quietly and reach for your phone to make good on your promise.

Carlos says something then but you're a little too lost in thoughts to really listen, "Sorry, what?"

"I said I already texted Max," he says with a smile. "Told him you were a little seasick but otherwise ok."

"You texted Max?" You're not sure why it comes out all loud and squeaky but you don't think Carlos notices it. If he did, he's graceful about it.

"Yes," he says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "When I called Max yesterday he asked me to keep him updated in case you'd forget."

"You called- Yesterday?"

"Pip-" Carlos looks at you for a second, "You do remember Max and I are friends, right?" 

"Yeah-" you draw out slowly, not sure where he’s going with this.

“So I called and asked him if there is anything I should watch out for or-” he shrugs as if it’s no big deal, “-if there’s anything you can’t do just yet.” 

“What did he say?” You’re curious now and wouldn’t be surprised if Max told Carlos to keep you on bedrest for the next two weeks.

Carlos grins, “Wouldn’t you like to know?” When you throw him a look he quickly recovers, “Just what you told me earlier, that you still get dizzy sometimes and still have headaches. And that you still sleep a lot.” 

“Hmm,” you agree quietly.

“Don’t worry, cariño.” He shoots you a wink, “I will take good care of you.” 

***

Even though he keeps his promise from earlier, and almost drives as slow as you'd imagine an old lady would, your nausea is getting worse with each passing minute, the constant twists and turns in the road definitely not helping. When you’ve passed Artà you realise you’re not going to make it and quietly whimper, “I’m gonna be sick.” 

Carlos, bless him, understands it’s urgent and pulls over to the side of the road immediately but before he’s even unbuckled his seatbelt you are already out of the car, keeping one hand on the door for support as you bend over and wait for the inevitable. He sounds dangerously close when he asks, “You ok?” and so you wave your free hand in the air to get him to back off as you tell him, “I really don’t need you to see this.”

You hear him scoff, “Pip.” There’s a hand on your back then, rubbing soothing circles, “Did you forget what happened after that end of the season party in Abu Dhabi when we went-”

You let out a groan to get him to stop talking, remembering all too well what happened that night. It earned you a reprimand from Franz and a promise to never let Carlos drink that much ever again. 

“I’m just saying we’ve both seen each other looking worse than this,” he tries, speaking more quietly now, “so there’s no need for you to be embarrassed, ok?”

You only hear half of what he’s saying, too focused on your breathing - in through your nose and out through your mouth - even though you know whatever you try now is just delaying the inevitable and-

“There you go,” Carlos says as you deposit a sticky mess into the shrubs next to the road. He’s still rubbing your back and you have to admit it does help a little. “You ok?” 

You nod, not trusting your voice right now.

“I’m going to grab you some water, ok?” 

You almost whimper at the loss of contact but then quickly run the back of your hand over your mouth, praying you don’t look like the hot mess you feel like. An opened bottle of water appears in your field of vision then, his other hand on your back again but this time supporting you as you stand up and take the bottle from him. You take a hesitant sip, hoping it will stay down, and then one more when it seems it does.

“Feeling better?”

“Not really,” you tell him with an apologetic smile. 

“Come on,” Carlos gently puts some pressure on the small of your back with his hand and guides you to the back of the car. The trunk is open and he motions for you to sit down, “We’ll just sit here for a while, no?” He sits down next to you and nudges your shoulder with his as he nods towards his right where the sun has just begun to rise over the mountains, “Look. Mallorca says hello to you.”

***

It takes you about twenty minutes and Carlos distracting you with stories about the summers he spent here with his family before you start to feel better and then another five before you finally think you’re good to get back into the car again. You’re still a little nauseous but you think you’ll be fine for the remaining fifteen minutes Carlos promised there’s left of the drive, even though he tells you he’ll stop ten more times if he has to.

Still, you are grateful when he finally turns off the main road and onto a long driveway lined with pine trees and so you manage a smile when he tells you, “Almost there.” 

You can’t help but admire the house and the view that meets you, the blue ocean sparkling in the distance behind it. “It's beautiful here,” you tell him once he's pulled up, earning you a wide smile from Carlos. When you get out of the car you feel yourself getting a little dizzy and so you grab onto the door to steady yourself.

Carlos rushes to your side immediately, “You ok?”

“Yeah,” you take a deep breath and close your eyes for a second, trying to regain your balance. “A little dizzy, that’s all.”

“Take your time,” he says with a kind voice. “I will grab your suitcase.”

You let go of the door slowly, a little relieved when the dizziness seems to have disappeared, and so you wait for him to join you again before you let him lead the way towards the house. 

“I will give you the grand tour later,” Carlos says from over his shoulder as he opens the front door, “but for now I’ll just show you your room, ok?” 

Before you have a chance to reply a very excited Piñon comes bouncing towards you, barking enthusiastically when he sees his owner has brought a guest. With a calm, “Siéntate,” Carlos tells the dog to sit down and Piñon does so immediately. 

“Hey buddy,” you coo, greeting the dog with a smile and a pat on his head, letting out a laugh when he drops onto his back for some belly rubs. You’re not sure squatting down is a good idea and so you tell him, “We’ll cuddle later, bud. Promise.” You last saw Piñon when he was a puppy and so you’re a little surprised the dog seems to remember you but if anything you’re glad he does. 

“Come on,” Carlos nods towards his right, “let’s get you settled.” You follow him down a long corridor to what is going to be your bedroom for the next two weeks and watch him as he puts your suitcase in front of the wardrobe, a little enamoured when he asks if you need help unpacking.

“That’s ok,” you tell him with a smile. “I can always do that later.” 

“Ok,” he opens a second door then, “here’s your bathroom. There’s not bath, just a shower but-”

“That’s fine,” you quickly reassure him. 

“I guess I will let you get settled-” Carlos runs a hand through his hair as he looks back at you, “Do you want some breakfast or-”

Just the thought of food makes your stomach turn and after the night you’ve had you know it’s probably better if you try to catch up on some sleep first. You give him an apologetic smile, “Is it ok if I lay down for a bit?”

“Of course.” He smiles, “I’ll probably be in the garden with Piñon but you can always call me if you need me, ok?”

“Yep.” 

***

The sound of someone calling your name slowly pulls you out of your sleep but you don’t really want to abandon the nice dream you were having and so you keep your eyes closed, hoping whoever it is will give up eventually. There’s a hand stroking your hair then and now you’re really confused because who the fuck is in the room and why are they touching you? The first thing you see when you open your eyes is Carlos’ face about three inches away from yours and so you whisper, “What are you doing?”

He furrows his brows, “I have to wake you every hour, no?” 

“No,” you draw out slowly, your voice soft because this might be the sweetest thing he’s ever done for you and you don’t want him to think you’re making light of the situation, “that was only the first night.” 

He looks embarrassed, “Oh.”

“It’s fine,” you quickly tell him with a smile and without thinking you cup Carlos’ cheek with your hand to add some weight to your words. You’re about to pull back, not sure what made you reach out in the first place, but then he leans into your touch and puts his hand over yours and you’re not exactly sure what’s happening but you don’t really want it to stop either. 

Carlos lets go then and so you pull your hand back as well, a little relieved when he carries on as if nothing happened, “How are you feeling?” 

“A bit better,” you answer truthfully because even though you’re still a little tired, the nausea seems to have disappeared and your head doesn’t hurt as bad either. 

“Good enough for some breakfast?” 

You nod and watch him as he stands up straight again, “Sounds great.” You can’t help but yawn then, “Maybe give me ten minutes? I’ll go take a quick shower and try to wake up some more.” 

***

“So that was inside-” Carlos says as he puts his hand on the small of your lower back and guides you towards the terrace doors. Once you’ve finished breakfast he’s taken you on a tour of the house as promised, showing you what you can find where, while Piñon follows you around with his tail wagging. “Outside you have the garden with the patio-.”

You admire the big garden from where you’re standing on a wooden deck, shielded from the sun by a porch that wraps almost entirely around the house. There are comfortable looking lounge sets placed on either side of the double doors, and you’re not surprised outside has been just as tastefully decorated as inside the house. There’s a small patio a bit further back in the garden, a Wisteria-covered pergola above it, where you can see a large dining table with at least six chairs on either side of it. 

“And over there’s the pool,” Carlos says with a nod. 

When you look to your right you see a pool large enough to do laps in and you let out a quiet, “Oh wow.” 

Carlos pulls back his hand and runs it through his hair, “I know it’s a bit different from Monaco or Faenza, not exactly a busy city but-”

“It’s gorgeous,” you tell him with a smile, thinking about the teeny tiny balcony you have at home. “I wish I had a garden like this.” 

“I know this is going to sound stupid, but-” another hand through his hair then as he looks away, “Mi casa really es su casa, Pip. I want you to feel at home here, ok?"

"Thank you."

He throws an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close, "Stop thanking me, cariño. I already told you not to worry about it, no?"

***

You spend the rest of the morning unpacking and getting settled into your room, Piñon occasionally coming to check up on you but never staying for more than a few seconds.

Once you're finished you decide to go find Carlos to see what he's up to but when you get outside and see him doing laps in the pool you figure it might be best to leave him to it. The Formula One summer break isn't really the holiday everyone makes it out to be, the training schedules sometimes even more gruelling than they are during the season, and you know most drivers prefer to stay close to home, and rather take a vacation during the longer winter break, so they can keep up with their workouts.

You snuggle up on one of the lounge chairs close to the house where it's still surprisingly cool thanks to the cover the porch offers, Piñon laying down at your feet almost instantly. You can feel yourself getting sleepy, the last twenty-four hours undoubtedly catching up with you once more, and slowly but surely you drift into a restless sleep filled with dreams you're not sure you'll remember once you wake up. 

***

"Pass me the spoon?" Carlos holds out his hand without looking up from the pot he's stirring in, a quiet, "Gracias," escaping him when you hand him what he's asked for. 

You watch him from where you're sitting on the counter, more here for moral support than anything else, the dish he's making way too complicated for your skill level. When he holds the spoon in front of your mouth so you can try the sauce you simply lean forward and have a taste, not bothering to take the spoon back from him. "Oh," you shake your head at him, letting out a content sigh. "That is so good!"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you shoot back with a smile before you push yourself off the counter, "I'll go set-" but when you land on the tiled kitchen floor a sharp pain shoots through the back of your head and so you let out a groan, grabbing on to the kitchen counter for some support as you close your eyes in an futile attempt to lessen the pain.

"Are you ok?" Carlos sounds worried, and close, and so you're not surprised when you feel him cup your face carefully, his thumbs stroking your cheeks. When you don't immediately reply he tries again, "Pip? Talk to me."

He sounds so worried and so you quietly whisper, "Just-" a deep breath then. "Give me a second, ok?" You continue taking deep breaths - in through your nose and out through your mouth - and eventually the pain lessens and you can open your eyes again.

"Hi," Carlos whispers, relief washing over his face. "Welcome back."

"That was a bad one," you admit easily enough.

"Anything I can do?" 

You start to shake your head but then think better of him and instead you just tell him, "Not really." 

"Come on," he nods towards the living room. "Let's get you on the couch while I finish dinner." 

He drops his hands so he can take one of yours into his and then he leads the way, giving your hand a gentle squeeze to get you going. You're still a little unsteady on your feet and put your free hand on his arm for more stability. He doesn't rush, lets you take your time, and when you finally reach the couch he fusses over you and helps you get comfortable, "Try to relax a little, cariño. Dinner isn't ready for another hour anyway."

“Ok.” You give him a weak smile, suddenly feeling absolutely exhausted. When you watch him walk back to the kitchen you have to fight the urge to call after him and ask if maybe he wants to sit with you for a little while because you don’t necessarily want to be alone right now.

It’s weird, you think as you feel your eyes growing heavy, because you’d never even think to ask Max the same thing, the relationship you have with him so different than the one you have with Carlos.

You met both of them at the end of 2014, you the Toro Rosso junior press officer and Max and Carlos the rookie drivers signed on for next season, making them the youngest driver line-up on the starting grid that year. 

With Max it was easy, almost instantaneous, both of you wearing your heart on your sleeve and always honest, not just with each other but with everyone else as well. The attitude problem so many people accused him of having never bothered you and pretty quickly you found out that it was just a front anyway. The real Max Verstappen is kind and caring and easily one of your best friends. When he left for Red Bull you stayed in touch, almost spending more time together off track than on, and so it almost feels as if you’ve grown up together over the past seven years, both of you trying to find your way in the Formula One circus. 

With Carlos it was different. He came in desperately wanting to prove that he was more than just his famous last name and you often found yourself having to reign him in, a loose cannon that was unpredictable at best. At the same time he thought you were cold and calculated, which only made him rile you up even more. It took until the 2015 Silverstone Grand Prix, when a double retirement meant no points for the team, for you two to become less hostile, the drinks you shared in the hotel bar after the race finally making you open up to each other. 

That night, after a few shots, he suddenly turned to you and confessed he was afraid people would always see him as just his father’s son and that he would never live up to the expectations other people had of him. In return you admitted being a woman in such a male-dominated sport, even if it’s just as support staff, could be quite daunting at times which is why you so often refused to back down or give in. 

You spent the rest of the evening getting to know each other better and from there on out the friendship just blossomed. For the remaining two years you worked together you really became a team and while you weren’t exactly feared by the press, by then they also knew better than to mess with you because you’d often didn’t need anything more than one look to understand what the other wanted or meant. 

When he left for Renault you made him promise to keep in touch and he really took that promise to heart, not shying away from calling or texting you whenever he felt like it. You were one of the first people to find out he got signed by McLaren and then again when he got a seat at Ferrari. Over the years you developed a race week ritual of sorts, where he’d find you in the paddock on Thursdays or Fridays and you’d catch up over a cup of coffee in either your or his team’s hospitality. 

The biggest difference, you realise somewhere in your subconsciousness as you drift off to sleep, is that with Max you always try to match his strength while with you allow yourself to be vulnerable with Carlos.

***

"Pip?"

You let out a groan and stretch out, slowly opening your eyes to reveal Carlos squatting next to the couch you fell asleep on.

"Hey," he smiles and brushes some of your hair out of your face. "How are you feeling?"

"Better,"  you croak, your voice a little rough from sleeping. "What time is it?"

Carlos chuckles then, "Almost eight. Dinner has been done for a while but you were so far gone that I figured I'd let you sleep a little longer." 

"Hmm," you reply, stretching your arms above your head, relieved when there's no sign of your headache returning. "You must be hungry."

From the way he hangs his head you can tell he's feeling a little guilty and so you don't say anything but instead wait for him to confess to whatever it is he has done even though you have a pretty good idea what it is, "I already had some."

"Oh Carlos," you breathe, trying not to laugh, your hand gently patting his cheek. "I'd be concerned if you hadn't." 

"Come on," he stands up and holds out his hand to you so he can help you get up. "Let's go eat."

***

The sun has long set by the time you finish dinner, the fairy lights hanging on the ceiling of the porch casting a warm glow over the small table you and Carlos are sitting at, with Piñon quietly snoring under Carlos’ chair. It’s not even that late but you’re starting to feel tired again and so you throw Carlos an apologetic smile, “I think it’s time for me to head to bed.”

He nods, “Of course.” 

“I really hope I won’t be as tired tomorrow,” you offer as you get up and start collecting the empty plates. 

Carlos gently swats your hand away, “Leave it. Piñon and I will clean up here, right boy?” 

Piñon sits up instantly, tail wagging and ears perched and so you let go of the plates and scratch the dog’s ears instead. 

“And don’t worry,” Carlos says with a mischievous smile, “I promise I won’t wake you every hour this time.”

You can’t help but let out a laugh.

He rounds the table then and presses a kiss to your cheek, “Good night, cariño. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Yep,” you tell him, trying your hardest to ignore the heat rising to your cheeks even though you have a hard time convincing yourself that he has always been this physical and so it doesn’t necessarily mean anything that he kisses you goodnight. “See you tomorrow.” 

=====

Notes:  Cariño = dear/sweetheart

Tags: @shes-homeward-bound​ | @chiogarza​

[plaid-maniac]

Another what-if submas post-pla reunion edition!

Basically, there has been talk of Ingo being sent to Hisui but not being able to understand Hisuian. But what if it was the opposite?

Emmet had gotten a call from the workers opening the subway. They had found a man passed out on the tracks of the subway, and had sent him to the hospital to get checked out. They said based on his clothes he was probably homeless or had been attacked.

But they also said, quietly, as though they were afraid to bring it up, that they had at first mistaken the man for him. They said that it was clear they were wrong when they took a closer look.

But they had thought it was him.

So, despite every fiber of his being telling him it was a case of a poorly lit tunnel (they had installed new, brighter lights three years ago) or a conclusion based on him having closed the night prior (they open and close in groups of 4 now, and it is against protocol to go around without at least one other person), he was here. Right at the entrance to the hospital.

He hadn’t worn his conductor coat. He didn’t want people to know it was him (just in case. Just in case his spirit couldn’t take another false positive. Just in case he crumbled to the ground in despair). He walked through the door and to the front desk.

“Hello. I am Emmet. A man was found in the subway this morning and brought here. May I see him?”

The man behind the desk looked at him for a second before smiling. “Of course. Please have a seat in our waiting area and I will call you when he’s able to have visitors.”

Waiting. Emmet hated waiting. Still, he went to go sit down. There was no winning when trying to fight against social conventions. He knew that all too well.

~~~~~

It had been a full hour. Emmet was not doing well.

He had already called out of work after ten minutes of waiting, after twenty he had gone through every magazine they had (all of them boring). When it hit half an hour he checked with the man at the desk again. He said he had to wait more. That’s when he had finally given up and had gone outside with Elektross and Crustle, telling the man to get him when he could go back.

Pokémon were allowed in the building, sure, but he knew not everyone would be happy to see such large Pokémon taking up space. Plus, it wasn’t a terrible day outside, and fresh air was always good when you spend a majority of your time cramped up underground.

At least, that’s what he told himself, as he sat against the wall of the building. It was still in the city, but there was a bit of area between himself and the people. It wasn’t bad.

It wasn’t good either.

Having been left to his own thoughts for the past while was not good for him. But there was little he could do besides wait, and try and focus on the weight of his Pokémon on his legs rather than the weight of the thoughts in his head.

“Mr. Emmet.” His head shot up. “The doctor wants to see you.” The man from the front desk looked a bit upset. Something bad was going on.

Emmet got up, returning his Pokémon to their spots on his belt, and ignored the crushing fear and hope that was overtaking his chest as he re-entered the building.

Each step he took sent another weight to his stomach as he was led to somewhere. In front of him was an important looking woman holding a clipboard. The doctor, he supposed.

“Mr. Emmet. Thank you for coming in today.” She said to him. She seemed troubled too. “I am Dr. Kristen.” She held out her hand. He shook it. That seemed to be the right thing to do.

“I must admit, your employees certainly found a strange case for me to work with. He had quite a few injuries. Ah, but don’t worry, they were fairly simple, and he will recover well.” Did she think he was worried? He shouldn’t be worried. It’s a stranger in that room. He’s just doing what he should as a subway boss. He should stop thinking that it was any more than that.

It was starting to hurt.

“However,” she continued, breaking him out of his thoughts, “he doesn’t seem to understand Unovan. We are currently trying to figure out what language he is speaking so we can communicate with him. Currently, we are pulling everyone who knows a second language to see if they are able to help.” She fiddled with something on her clipboard. “Though, if you want to go see him I can take you to his room.”

It was clear to him. This was another false positive. It was a mistake for him to have come. He wanted to leave

Emmet had to think a moment before responding. Words were never his strength. “Thank you, but it’s fine. It sounds difficult. I just wanted to make sure he was ok. It sounds like he will be fine. That is good.”

He was going to leave. He wanted to leave. “Mr. Emmet. Please wait.” The doctor didn’t grab him, but she did step up to him. “Listen. We don’t have any information on who this man is or what happened to him. Except,” her hand left the empty space between them and grabbed something from off her clipboard. It was a black leather wallet that was falling apart. “We do have this. And while there might be a thousand explanations for it, there is a chance that he had this because it was his.”

Emmet took it from her.

He opened it up.

There was an id in a clear plastic sleeve.

His brother’s face stared back at him.

It was- it had to have been his id. He read everything on the side of it. Name, age, height, hair color, eye color, date of birth, date of expiration. Even his trainer number was all exactly correct.

This had to be real.

“-met? Mr. Emmet? Do you need to sit down? Mr. Emmet?” When he finally had the energy to look up at her, he saw how worried she was looking. Was she worried about him?

Maybe she was right to be worried. It had been a long time since he felt this bad. “Please.” He finally managed to croak out. For some reason his voice sounded nasally, like he was crying for the first time in years. “Please. Where is he?”

The concern never left her face. But she did turn around and start walking. He followed her, past several doors and around a corner, until she stopped.

They were in front of a door. The same as every other single door in this building, perhaps even in all the buildings in the area. She opened it, and held it open for him. She gestured him inwards.

Emmet was not ready. But he walked inside anyway.

There was a stranger on the bed. A stranger with grey hair an silver eyes and looked exactly like Ingo if Ingo had aged 10 years under a rock. He was wearing a hospital gown and it was, undoubtedly, someone.

Emmet wanted to cry and scream and throw up in agony and relief but all he could manage was stumble forward towards the bed. The Ingo-but-not-quite looked up at him. His eyes became so bright for a moment.

He started talking and Emmet could not understand him. He couldn’t make sense of anything that was coming from his mouth but it was Ingo’s voice and it sounded so shocked, so desperate as he held his arms out, reaching out to him. What else could he do but collapse into his long-lost brother’s embrace?

Ingo was still talking. With his voice. It was his voice and it was so full of concern and comfort. He stopped caring if people saw him cry. Nothing they thought mattered. The only thing that mattered was his brother and his voice that he couldn’t understand.

Oh swords he couldn’t understand what his brother was saying. His brother was still talking. Still trying to communicate something important to him, but he couldn’t understand him. Every syllable was something he could have verbally produced if he tried but they fit together so wrong into a language that was so foreign and different and unknown to him.

He couldn’t understand him. He couldn’t understand his own brother.

Agonizingly he got up. Somehow he was able to sit up, to separate himself despite his body feeling so heavy just a moment ago. His brother was looking at him now, waiting probably. For a response to what he had been saying. Something he could hold onto. Something he could understand.

And all Emmet could say was “I’m sorry. I don’t understand what you are saying.”

[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!

[levisgirll]

could i pls request one where the reader is having trouble eating consistently throughout the day and doesn't rlly eat much and this is where levi starts to notice and helps and comforts her? it's been hard for me to eat these last several weeks, also if you're not comfortable writing ab this you don't have to do this!

𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐲 (𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐀𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

→ Text: Hello there Anon! Thank you for sending a request to me and of course I will be glad to write this for you! And, sorry this took a while but I really do hope you see this as I tried my best with it! Also, I am sorry to hear that you are having trouble eating. Since it has been awhile I hope you are doing better now?🥺 ♡♡♡  It must be difficult but don’t forget that you are strong enough to make it this far and I am proud of you! Hang in there, things will get better soon, trust in yourself <3 

Synopsis: Levi was quick to notice the person he loves most which is Y/N for a while that they were struggling with something. So, Levi observed them for a while and then noticed how Y/N was actually having trouble not eating much. And, it was just an instinct that Levi went out to comfort and help Y/N in his own way. Which made you realize his love for you, and you only, and how soft/sweet Levi Ackerman is towards Y/N. Find out what are the things he does and says!

Trigger Warning, some mentions of eating disorder (but focusing more on levi comforting them), angst, cute fluff, modern au, headcanons imagine♡ —

It was hard, extremely hard, and you tried your best to eat consistently throughout the day, whenever you went out hanging out with Levi, and whenever you were alone. You really did. But, all alone and not letting anyone know about it because you were quite worried and concerned to even mention it, especially to Levi, you found it hard to manage this by yourself.

Whenever Levi came over to your place, or has taken you out for lunch/dinner he noticed you won’t eat much and even skipping it, and he started to wonder if it was because you hated the choices he picked and took you or you had enough of outside food with him. But, he later observed you and had noticed you were actually struggling to eat nowadays and he wanted to talk to you, to be of use and support you. After all, you are someone to him he cared and loved.

So, he decided to come over to your place and have a chat with you, because Levi was slowly starting to be worried for you.

“Hey, Y/N. I want to talk to you about something. Come sit with me?” Levi said as he sat down on your couch, leaning forward while he rested his elbows on his thighs. He looked towards you, at your eyes which had a surprised look.

“S-Sure.” Y/N said nervously and sat from the opposite side, not sure if Levi was mad at something.

“I...have been noticing that you aren’t enjoying our lunch and dinner hangouts recently, and I also noticed you usually reject my hangouts whenever we go out to eat. Did I...do something?” He sounded quite sad and also concerned. He wanted to make sure the relationship you both had was still going good, because he loved hanging out with you and spending every minute with you. To Levi, you were his everything and he wanted to progress with this relationship and bond but to do that, he had to also make sure you were comfortable and he wanted to really help you out and be there for you!

You were taken aback from his comment, surely he misunderstood the situation, Levi started talking about how he was feeling worried  if he might have done something wrong and he had also personally observed the way you were behaving different nowadays towards him.

“No Levi...You never did anything. It’s just that...” You looked away from him and looked down towards your hands that you rested on your lap, you wanted to tell him, but you were not sure how.

But then, you felt his both hands on top of yours and he held it tightly when he bent forward, and looked at you filled with love and concern. “Just what?” He was paying close attention to what you were saying, and Levi sat there patiently and calmly, waiting whenever you wanted to respond or not.

You let out a sigh and with his touch, him caressing your hands, you held his hand back and relaxed. You decided to say instead what was on your mind to Levi. “Just, I am kind of struggling to eat nowadays Levi. It’s been hard for me to eat the past few weeks and...I am trying to but it’s kind of hard.” You said, with such a sad tone it broke Levi’s heart to hear that from someone he loved. 

But, he was glad. Levi was glad and relieved to hear that you were finally telling him what was on your mind, and how you were feeling because that was important to him. And, the fact that how Levi started the conversation in a gently and safe environment and both talked about how Y/N and Levi were feeling made it much easier for Y/N to see that Levi just actually cared for them and decided to let him know. 

Ever since you had let him know about this, Levi takes account to this and starts to help you in his own way which is filled with love with every act he does.

Levi kind of understood you as he himself, is insomniac, and he struggled to sleep but ever since with your presence and whenever you both had sleepovers, it has helped him had some extra hours of sleep and he was glad he told you and shared that with you ever since you both got close. Him letting you know about it made it less harder for him and easier for him to accept it as he didn't feel all alone anymore. Levi felt really lucky to have you. And now, he wants to give that back to you but x2, he wanted the same thing for you. “Let’s do this together.” Levi would say and he held on your hand, meaning every word he is saying.

Once you have told him you don’t really eat much, Levi gave you space to talk about how they’re feeling and what was going on for them. Levi would be very patient and would honestly listen to every word you say and keep a note of it. He would never and not even think of being annoyed about their eating habit’s as he knew it was something difficult for you and honestly, he was proud of you to have made it everyday all by yourself. He found you even stronger than him.

“Hey, I’m not good with words but, I want you to know I care about you brat. And...I am always there to help, so don’t you dare hesitate with me.” He said and ruffled your hair with a slight blush on his cheeks.

After you were slowly trying to recover, once Levi surprised you and decided to break the routine and made you light homemade food instead to encourage you a bit to eat something if you wanted to. He came over for a movie night and made food for the both of you. And, if you tried or tasted his food even just a little bit, he would smile at you and lean in to give you a soft kiss on your cheek. “I’m proud of you sweetheart.” 

‘s-sweetheart?!’ you thought as your cheeks felt hot and you looked away feeling really shy. Y/N was surprised to how Levi was being too soft and sweet, and you actually found it so cute that you both ended up cuddling each other on the couch. “Tch, you really are clingy huh?” Levi said with a smirk and joked. He made you give out a small laugh as it was ironic coming from him, and that, really really, warmed his heart. Tonight was just special for the both of you and he made you feel so special that evening. You really loved him.

Although, Levi would constantly tell you that if you ever needed his help in anyway, or to even hear you out, he was so ready for that. It was his most effective way of showing you his full support, just for you. And, it all came from his heart. 

Levi would also research and read more about how to help ‘a loved one who struggles to eat’ and ask for tips from Hanji and Armin, because he really wanted all the best for you. Your happiness is his happiness too.

Whenever Levi goes out to see his old friends, he would still ask if you would like to join. He knows that even if they do not join him, he would still ask you, making Y/N feel valued as a person and always Levi trying to include them in things. Once, Y/N went out to see Mikasa, Historia and Armin to a dessert place and Levi tagged along with Y/N. He would order for himself black tea and Y/N hot chocolate while the others would get themselves some ice cream, waffles and cakes. 

While everyone is eating and chatting, Levi would put his hand on top of your lap and caress it. Making sure you are feeling alright and he is there for you no matter what. While you saw the desserts being sweet, you thought Levi’s act was even sweeter to you and it warmed your heart. He then would lean in and whisper to your ear as the others were chatting, “I know this can be hard, and there seem to be lots of food around, but you don’t have to eat it all alright?” Levi said calmly and held your hand, he understood you so well and he knew you were still in recovery so it was a great reminder for Y/N to help them feel in control again. He really helped you out and you felt so happy sharing this with him now.

One night, you got so fed up and felt really overwhelmed. So, you decided to call Levi to come over to your place while sobbing. He came so fast, you have no idea. Hearing you tear up during the phone call, broke his heart and he wanted to hold you right now. As he entered your flat, you quickly got up, eyes swollen from your tears, “I-I..” but you suddenly got pulled towards him and Levi hugged you so tightly. That simple hug, you felt all his love towards you, and it really calmed you down and warmed your heart instead of your body. “Shhh, It’s okay. I got you.”

Levi would definitely build up your self-esteem, after all you were such a great and strong person, not everyone can handle this and it was hard. So, the fact you were for several weeks, along dealing with it, Levi would let Y/N know how strong they are, and he would tell them what a great person they are and how much Levi appreciated having Y/N in his life.  “Y/N. I know this is difficult, but I am proud of you.”

The fact that Levi was constantly trying to find out more about eating disorders and how to support them, with that act itself shows that Levi actually really cared and it helped him understand how they might be feeling. So, he would always during nights you both slept together during the weekends, he would whisper soft and gentle things to you, making you feel so much good. “Y/N...You are doing really well.” He would say as he softly caressed your cheeks with his thumb as you both laid on the bed, while you hugged around his waist. “Thanks, Levi. That means a lot.” You said and softly teared up, finally feeling so much better after a long time. “Don't thank me, I want to be here for you if you ever need me.”  Those simple words, made you tear up even more, it was just the way he said it, and how he focused on your eyes, his love is real for you. That evening, you shared a lot of love together <3 It made the both of you feel amazing!

And, when you started to eat something little by little and you told him about it or he has seen it, he would give you a smile which was quite rare to see sometimes but he has become softer with you, showing you a side only you see and no one else. “See? I believe in you. You look really happy.” and he meant it. Levi has always been honest to you and that is a strong factor of his as he does not say that easily. With all of his small comments and encouragements he has given you, it made you feel so amazing whenever you ate something even small and he made sure to make you feel good about it.

If you perhaps eat something and it made you feel down about it, Levi would be sure to cheer you up about it and try to joke around to make you laugh. Doing that to make you forget your negative thoughts and he would shower you with love too, by kissing your forehead and saying “It’s going to be okay Y/N, really.”

You won’t miss a day of Levi not sending you a text, you are after all always in his mind because he is in love with you. So he would text or call you and say “How are you doing?” He wants to know if you are doing well and what you were up to so he can see you later on the day <3

Levi one day surprised you and you got a delivery from him, it was a bouquet of roses with a box of chocolate and he left you a handwritten note saying “You look amazing. -Levi.” and that simple note, made you not stop smiling throughout the whole day and squealing about it to Hanji.

After a while, Levi finally took his chance and with time he finally confessed his love to you and how much he deeply cared and cherished you. “I love you, and I don’t think of you any differently.” Levi would say to you under the beautiful nightsky. Levi then reassure them that they are worthy and loved, and nothing they say or do will change that to him.

Ahh anon I really hope you liked this and if anyone read this I hope you did too! This came out so soft and fluff to be honest, and I really see Levi being really understandable and all because he also struggles with something else, such as not getting enough of sleep, and he would shower you with comfort, making you also feel so amazing and good? Like imagine Levi saying what I mentioned above, to you! Anyways, if you did like this please then leave a like, a reblog or leaving me message about it! Thank you all <3

[gukyi]

in the frosty air | a jjk drabble

summary: two weeks ago you and your roommate slept together. which would be fine, if you knew you both felt the same about each other. but you don’t. and now it’s christmas, and jungkook is still gorgeous and gentle and wonderful and here, and and you don’t really know what to do about that.

{college!au, roommates!au}

pairing: jungkook x reader genre: this is just an angst train tbh, but it has a happy ending! word count: 1.6k warnings: mentions of past alcohol consumption, this centers around everyone’s favorite capitalist holiday, being sad in the wintertime a/n: OHHHHHHHHHH *internet breaks* anyway yeah i’m back baby!!! here’s a little drabble to celebrate because i can’t help myself when it comes to jungkook. love me or we both go down coming soon!

“This Christmas is pretty fucking lame, isn’t it?”

You whip around at the sound of his voice. “Oh, hey. I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I figured,” Jungkook chuckles, bending his head down as he crawls through the open window to join you on the fire escape. The temperature is freezing and the wind is stinging your skin, but it didn’t really feel right to be spending tonight inside. “Saw the window open. Thought you might be here.”

“Yeah. I was probably gonna head inside soon, though.” In the hopes that you would be curled up in your bedroom before Jungkook even got home. Seeing him lately has been hard. “How did your final go?”

“It was alright.” You don’t have to keep looking at him to feel Jungkook taking a seat next to you, crossing his legs over each other as he stares out into the city below you. It snowed a few days ago, and the sidewalks are still covered in that dirty slush that always lingers, wet and cold and black from car tires. Just being beside you makes your heart race, makes your chest tighten. “I was pretty stressed out about it, but then I just sort of remembered that I did my best and that was all I could do, you know?”

“That’s good.” You wish you had that mindset. You spend days studying for an exam and once it’s over, you spend days dwelling on all the things you might have gotten wrong. It’s a philosophy you apply to most aspects of your life. Why you did the thing you did. Why doing the thing you did was the worst thing you could have done. How you will recover from it. If you even will. 

Jungkook sighs. You turn to look at him, just briefly, glance at his side figure, and notice he’s wearing nothing but a giant zip-up hoodie. Isn’t he cold? “It doesn’t really feel like Christmas.”

“Yeah.” You don’t have anything else to say to that. It doesn’t. Which is a damn shame, because you and Jungkook spent the entire beginning of this month turning your tiny, two-bedroom apartment into a winter wonderland. You got a tree to put up next to your TV and decorated with the weirdest ornaments you could find. You hung up those dangly white Christmas lights on the balcony of your fire escape, the ones meant to look like icicles dripping from the metal railing. The radio has been playing nothing but Michael Bublé and Mariah Carey. And yet.

It’s not hard to wonder why this Christmas is such shit. Your spring internship fell through a week ago. Your parents rented a lake house and assumed you wouldn’t be coming with. All of your other friends have gone home already. And Jungkook, perhaps the last person in this whole goddamn city you would have wanted to spend time with, you can’t even bear to look at. 

“How did your finals go?” Jungkook asks, trying to keep the conversation going. 

“They were fine.” At least that torture is over. But living with Jungkook, seeing him every day and knowing that what you have done you can never undo--it’s endless. 

There’s silence. It’s like the two of you simultaneously have no idea and know exactly what to say. Like the words are lingering on the tips of your tongues but your lips are sealed shut. Opening them won’t be like a can of worms. It will be a dam, a waterfall of I’m sorrys and What nows. One week ago, in the heat of the night and in the haze of drink after drink, you and Jungkook made the worst mistake two roommates could ever make. 

“Are you going home this break?” You blurt out the words before you can stop yourself. 

Jungkook sighs. “I’m not sure.”

“It’s okay if you want to.” I get it. I’m not sure if I’d want to hang around and see me either. 

He shrugs. “I just haven’t decided yet.”

He knows that you’re staying. The two of you were so looking forward to spending Christmas together. Now look at you. Jungkook was the perfect roommate. Then everything changed. 

“Okay.” He’s probably just trying to figure out a way to let you down easy. 

Next to you, Jungkook rustles a hand through his pocket. “By the way, uh--I just remembered. I got you something.”

You don’t even have time to object before Jungkook is placing a small fabric box into your open palm, resting on your lap. You look down at the item, at the way your hand seems to envelop it. 

“You didn’t have to--”

“I wanted to.” Jungkook is firm in his response. “Besides, I got it a while ago. Figured now is as good a time as any to give it to you.”

There’s not really anything else to do except open it. Carefully, with trembling fingers, you pull off the lid. Inside sits a dainty silver locket resting amongst a pile of folded tissue paper. You gasp, your breath coming out in smoke in the cold winter air. 

“Oh my God, I--”

“I overheard you talking on the phone saying you wanted one,” Jungkook admits sheepishly. “I wanted to give it to you before I forgot.”

Fingers shaking from the cold, you pull the locket from the box. It dangles from its chain, a delicate little thing, barely the size of a fingerprint. Even on this hazy winter evening, it still catches the light.

For the first time tonight, you look up at him. His eyes are a swirling brown, a deep chocolate. They are unreadable. He offers a small, guarded smile your way, lips pink in the chilly air. “Thank you,” you tell him honestly. This is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for you. 

You can’t accept this without returning the favor. Wordlessly, you get up from the fire escape, rushing indoors for a moment as you grab your gift from your bedroom. It’s been sitting in there for at least two weeks now. You hold your hand behind your back as you make your way back to the fire escape, sitting down next to him once more. 

With a small flourish, you reveal your own present. They’re drumsticks. 

“For you,” you tell him, that same small grin on your face. “Since you’re always drumming on everything. Thought you could use something to do that with.”

Jungkook looks positively starstruck. He takes the sticks in his hands, feels the wood with his fingers, tracing over the logo at the bottom. You aren’t very well versed in the world of drum equipment, but your friend in the orchestra told you it was a good brand. 

“Wow, Y/N,” he says, mouth agape. “This is... this is the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever gotten me. Thank you.”

“Always.”

And that’s the truth, isn’t it? No matter what you do, no matter what you say, you will always be there to give Jungkook what he deserves. To make his life just the tiniest bit better. Doing thoughtful things for him has never required effort on your part. There is just a part of you that will do them, because he deserves it. Because he is so gentle, and loving, and kind, and wonderful. 

You sit there for a little while longer, relishing in the brief respite of your gift exchange. It’s softened the ice, warmed the air, broken the tension. Even if only a little. But it’s enough to keep you out here, sitting next to him. It’s enough to keep you from drifting away. 

“I don’t regret that night.”

The words feel like biting wind. 

“What?” You turn to him. 

“I don’t. I’d do it again. A thousand times over.” Jungkook is resolute. He looks at you, eyebrows furrowed in determination. 

“Jungkook, what happened that night--”

“Is something I’ll never forget,” he finishes. “Do you know how fucking long I had been waiting to do that? To hold you? Kiss you? To spend the night with you?”

Each syllable presses deeper into your chest, imprinting themselves on your heart. You stare back at him, too shocked to say anything at all. 

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same,” Jungkook adds on, quickly backtracking. “I sort of... got that message when I woke up that morning and you were gone. But I just wanted you to know that that night didn’t change anything about how I feel about you.”

Jungkook’s got it all wrong. You were the one who fucked up. You were the one whose feelings won’t change. “I thought you were the one who didn’t feel the same.”

Jungkook chuckles, this sad, forced cough. “Are you kidding? I’d do anything to relive that night. You’re my favorite person in this whole world, Y/N.”

If the weather were just a little bit warmer, if the wind wasn’t as dry, perhaps tears would fall. But instead, you blink back at him and it feels at once like your heart weighs a million pounds and nothing at all. “Me too,” you choke out. “I never want to be without you.”

Your fire escape is barely big enough for one person, let alone two, but that doesn’t stop Jungkook from reaching over and pulling you in, pressing a chilly kiss to your frozen lips, the heat of his mouth warming you up from the inside out. It’s cold tonight, yes. But Jungkook makes you feel like it’s summer all year long. 

You smile against his lips. They feel like home. They taste like peppermint lip balm and coffee and ice. 

“Do you want me to stay?” He asks. As if he was even thinking about going home anyway. 

“Yes,” you whisper back. 

It feels a lot more like Christmas now. 

“Then I’ll stay.”

↳ don’t forget to message me with any thoughts or feedback! i missed you guys!

[kiame-sama]

28 Years (5th Pregnancy)- Yandere!Silva x Reader

Warnings; yandere relationship, yandere tendencies, yandere behavior, yandere, mention of past trauma, pregnancy, c-section, more arguing, vasectomy, Zeno is so done with his son's bullshit

"No. We are not doing this again. I won't allow it!" "Hey, I told you how to fix this from ever happening again." "I did use protection. It clearly didn't work." "I didn't say 'use protection' did I? I said you should get a vasectomy since it's clear that regular protection and emergency medication doesn't work!" "I shouldn't have to-"

"ENOUGH!"

You and Silva fell silent at the firm and loud command from Zeno, looking over at the frustrated elder assassin. He happened to be holding young Alluka in his arms while the infant whined and cried from all the noise, compelling you to take the young child and set to comforting the infant. Alluka quickly quieted once in your grasp and allowed you to return your attention to the matter at hand, the new heartbeat that originated from within you.

You had been trying to avoid a third pregnancy given your prior back-to-back pregnancies and your already fragile health, yet here you were with another infant growing within you. You assumed something like this would happen, given your past attempts with contraceptives and how little they actually worked. Naturally, you suggested Silva have a vasectomy as it was not only a surefire way, but also a reversible surgery.

Originally, you suggested getting your tubes tied despite the danger that came with it but Silva quickly shot down the idea with his usual explanation of not wanting to lose you. Silva knew somewhere in him that the typical contraceptives wouldn't work, given the fact that he had used several similar methods to trigger a termination of prior pregnancies you were unaware of. He had hoped in some way that your body hadn't built up a resistance to them, but he also knew it was going to happen eventually.

He did plan on undergoing a vasectomy when you had first suggested it, but he quickly forgot about it in favor of getting to finally fuck you senseless now that your body had somewhat recovered after your most recent pregnancy. He had just been so relieved you were able to be brought back from your cardiac arrest following his mistake of once again taking your child away, and couldn't help himself from indulging in his favorite pass-time; fucking you. It was clear to everyone how addicted Silva was to you, in the way he would always return to your side after a job, how he would guard you jealously from anyone other than himself.

He was so whipped for you.

But now, you had a serious choice to make for your future and the future of the life already growing within you. It wasn't hard to guess what Silva wants to have happen, and some part of you agreed after enduring all that you had. Yet... You still felt that maternal connection already forming, wanting to protect all of your children from Silva, even the new child within you that had yet to take even a first breath.

"You're not keeping it." "Yes, I am." "No. I won't tolerate this again!" "Good thing you aren't the one who has to tolerate it. Last time I checked, its my body that goes through all the strain and effort of pregnancy, not your’s." "Are you doing this just to hurt yourself? To try and exhaust your body to the point of death?" "... Again, last time I checked, I wasn't the cause of my heart stopping." "..."

Silva stood silently, passive expression on his face as he wrestled with his own mind over the matter at hand. On one side, you were right; he was the reason he almost lost you, he's been the reason every single time. Even if it was complications during birth, it was still his fault entirely for getting you pregnant in the first place. On the other, he knew the immense toll another pregnancy will have on your body and the chances of you dying during birth increased with each one. The odds were not good.

It was then Silva spoke, his voice gentle and not at all like what you were expecting him to growl out with. It was the voice you scarcely heard on those far and few between days Silva would be truly gentle in every way, usually reserved for when he decided to honestly apologize to you for something. He was proud and cold, but there were those moments when that pride was set aside, when he would actually explain how he felt instead of leaving it at short sentences that never offered answers.

"(Y/n), don't do this again. Don't stubbornly hold on to this one. I know you already love it, as you love all of our children, and you will always fight for their safety no matter what, but for once you need to let me win. Let it go." "... If I say 'no', will you take it from me anyway?" "(Y/n)..." "Are you going to take my baby away from me again, Silva?" "..."

A soft sigh left Silva's lips as he frowned, knowing you were going to win the argument regardless of what he said or did. He knew he owed you more than he could give and there was no way he would force you to give the child up. If you truly wanted to keep it, he wouldn't be able to convince you otherwise. Still didn't mean he had to like it.

"There is no sense in saying the obvious or telling you the risks you run having another baby so soon after your two prior pregnancies." "I know..."

Zeno hummed in a contemplative way, knowing Silva would refuse to go out on a job while you are pregnant and he had already refused to leave the Zoldyck estate in favor of keeping an eye on you. Given how intensely and fiercely he protected you, Zeno knew the immense toll the pregnancies have taken on Silva as well as you. But no one in the family wanted a repeat of the events that took place after Silva had taken Alluka away from you without telling you.

It was going to be a long eight months.

~~~~Four Months~~~~

"You need to sleep, (y/n)." "But what if something happens?" "Nothing is going to happen." "You don't know that..."

Silva frowned as he watched you pace in front of the couch in your shared rooms, chewing on your lip as you cradled your youngest in your arms. The child had already fallen asleep in your arms an hour ago, yet you still held on securely and refused to set your baby down for even a moment. Silva had seen the way you reacted to Illumi being taken and the subsequent over protective behavior you showed once you got him back in your arms.

Your behavior now was similar to how you behaved then, refusing to let your infant out of your sight to the point of impacting your health negatively. Silva knew you were reacting the way you were because of how he had managed to take Alluka from you in the first place. He had taken Alluka while you were sleeping even though you slept with the infant swaddled in a pile of blankets in your arms, so now you refused to sleep in fear Alluka would disappear from your arms once again.

Now he had to face the lasting consequences of his actions in the form of soothing you to the point of trusting him once more. It was going to take a while, however, as Silva had broken your already fragile trust yet again by stealing away your newborn, so it was unlikely he would be able to get you to trust him completely any time soon. Instead of the trust he once had, he had to watch you slip away into anxiety driven behavior due to his careless and selfish behavior.

It was driving him mad to watch you slip into such frenzied behavior, especially given the fact that you were enduring your third pregnancy in a row. Not only did you need sleep now more than ever, but you also had been refusing food in favor of feeding Alluka instead. It infuriated Silva to no end, as he had no choice but to let your anxious behavior play out until you calmed down once more. He wasn't going to chance doing anything that may be upsetting to you, but that also meant he wasn't going to force you to rest no matter how much he wanted to.

"At least sit down, (y/n)." "With you? No. No, not again." "I swear to you, I won't take-" "You've said that before, and it didn't stop you from taking Alluka away from me." "I'm aware I made a mistake, but I assure you-" "No."

It was going to be a long four months until you gave birth again and potentially trusted him once more.

~~~~Six Months~~~~

You hummed as you looked down at where your darling Alluka slept, curled up and held securely in the arms of Illumi. Silva had reached a breaking point when it came to your anxious and stressed behavior, deciding to allow Illumi to be by your side consistently so you would finally relax and get some much needed sleep. The presence of your eldest nearby did wonders to soothe you, trusting in your son to take care of his little sibling and keep Silva from stealing the infant away.

Though Silva disliked the fact that he had to share your attention and affection with his eldest son, the alternative was far worse in his opinion. You had gotten to the point of rarely sleeping so you could ensure Silva could not steal your baby away, draining yourself immensely in the process to the point you were not only rapidly losing weight, but you were becoming far less coordinated by the day. When enough was enough, he consulted his father on what his next step should be and the answer was obvious; let Illumi help take care of your wellbeing.

Your eldest practically jumped at the chance to spend unlimited amounts of time with you, not even perturbed by the fact that he had to take care of his youngest sibling. An extra cot was added into the bedroom, allowing Illumi to be present for around the clock assistance in child-care and to give you the added comfort of having your most trusted son nearby. You ensured to teach him how to properly hold an infant and how to soothe Alluka's fussing relatively quickly, only strengthening your motherly bond with Illumi by allowing you to put full faith in him with Alluka's well-being.

For once, Silva's plan worked like a charm. Not only did you finally start catching up on the rest you needed, you began to eat your meals with Illumi and therefore began to eat regularly once more. Along with your physical health, your mental health began to improve as well. You started smiling and talking more, resting with surprising ease in the arms of the very man you refused to so much as blink around only weeks prior.

Thanks to your teachings, Illumi was a rather brilliant nanny in your stead. Alluka would hardly make a peep when held in the comforting arms of Illumi and similarly, Illumi would make little to no noise while caring for his sibling. Even if he had more responsibilities with taking care of Alluka, Illumi wouldn't trade that time for anything in the world. He could spend time with you, talk with you, relax in your maternal love and affection.

Truly it was a win for all three of you. Alluka was always cared for. Illumi was finally able to spend more time with you. You were able to relax for the first time in who knows how long. Even Silva had relatively few losses, given how much more affectionate you were with him now you knew your infant was safe.

~~~~Eight Months~~~~

Silva paced outside of the delivery room, looking up almost every minute to check the time before resuming his endless pacing. He was much like a caged lion or bear, pacing just to pass the time and to do something other than sit still. He certainly was far more dangerous than any of those animals combined, only serving to add a rather pointed reminder to any doctor of what their fate would be should they fail.

But that was the whole purpose of this endeavor, to ensure nothing failed. Surely nothing could have gone wrong with all the precautions that were put into place.

Surely.

Either way, the long time it was taking only served to make Silva more anxious and his presence all the more intimidating. It in truth had only been a few hours since you went under so the doctors could perform a c-section to safely deliver what would be your fifth child. After the close calls with both Killua and Alluka as well as the fact this was your third back-to-back pregnancy, Silva wanted to take no chances with your life.

A c-section was how Killua and Alluka ultimately had to be delivered despite the fact you were able to have a 'typical' birth with Illumi and Milluki, so naturally it would only make sense for your fifth child to be delivered via c-section. It didn't sit well with Silva, however. Nothing would sit well with him until you were safely out of surgery and in his arms.

But what was taking so damn long?

"For fuck's sake, Silva, sit down. Pacing doesn't make it go faster and intimidating the doctors will only make it more likely for them to mess up." "Their lives are forfeit if they so much as make a single mistake." "And they know this. They've known this. All you're doing is adding another element no one wants to deal with."

Despite his father's chiding words, Silva continued to pace and glare at nothing in particular. Where it always seemed as if the man had a scowl on his face, it seemed ten times worse given he was actually scowling. The moment the door opened, Silva was pushing past the frightened doctor and into the room where his wife lay motionless.

For a moment, Silva felt an honest pang of fear in his chest when he saw you were not awake, the ever present beep of the EKG soothed him to know you were still alive and merely unconscious. The doctors all scattered like frightened rats, scurrying away from the intimidating mountain of a man who silently pulled up a chair, sitting by your side and refusing to take his eyes off of you.

Zeno, Maha, Milluki, and Illumi entered the room in a much calmer manner as they also came to stand around you. Alluka had been moved into Zeno's care given the impending delivery of the new addition to the family, and Illumi stood ready to receive the newborn and care for it while you recovered. Everyone had been preparing for the newborn in their own way, from the butlers ensuring the utmost safety to Zeno taking over Alluka's care, it seemed everything was finally prepared for and taken into account.

Meanwhile, in the past month, Silva had finally undergone a vasectomy so there would be no further chance of yet another pregnancy threatening your future with him. It was possible that it could be reversed and so it was the only surefire way no unexpected pregnancy would happen again. Where Silva felt he would have no reason to reverse the change since he already had five children, the option was always still available should something ever come up.

Perhaps finally there could be peace in the house. At least, peaceful enough no sudden pregnancy could threaten your life. Now all that needed to happen was getting the new infant out before Silva could finally have you all to himself once again.

He could wait. He could wait as long as he needed to. Because in the end, you would always be his.