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sluttyten · 4 years ago

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Adore You

Poly Orgy Series: Part 9

Poly Series Chapter Index

summary: these last months of your pregnancy bring delights and troubles, but it all culminates in the true wonder of holding your daughter in your arms with her father at your side

length: 32.4k words

tags/warnings: pregnancy, childbirth, smut, polyamory, multiple partners, foursome

Christmas approaches suddenly in a cold, dark rush of icy rain and bitter wind. You’re grateful that you finished up your Christmas shopping a bit early, so you don’t have to get out in the terrible weather, instead spending your days leading up to the holiday napping and baking and decorating the house. You were lucky enough to get those days off of work as your boss wanted to go spend the holidays in a warmer climate, so he’d given your coworkers and yourself that time off too.

The wind rushes against the windows, spraying the freezing rain up against the glass, and even as you sit in the kitchen, wrapped up like a burrito in your blanket, you shiver.

Jisung and Chenle are helping you bake some Christmas cookies. Taeyong had been helping too, but he had to leave for work, and ever since then you’d been in your blanket at the table while decorating the cookies. Chenle was making a mess of it--the sprinkles were everywhere, somehow he’d gotten green icing smeared across his cheek, and the glittery sprinkles you’d purchased on a whim were dusted across the table rather than on the cookies. Jisung was on his third cookie (at least) after he broke it in half trying to ice it in the most complicated way.

“Noona,” Jisung says, spraying the table with cookie crumbs. He quickly covers his mouth with his hand and continues speaking, “What are your plans for Christmas? Are you going home to spend it with your parents?”

You know that the group doesn’t really get Christmas off. Dream and 127 both have to perform on Christmas Eve, and several of them have an appearance to make as NCT U on Christmas Day. It doesn’t seem fair to you that they don’t get that time off; it’s a holiday that even if they don’t truly celebrate it, then they should be able to at least take the time with their family if they so choose.

“I’ll probably visit them between Christmas and the New Year.” You tug your blanket tighter around your shoulders, reaching across the table for the red icing. You’re trying to decorate a Santa hat, but Chenle’s been hogging the red icing all to himself. “Are you going to see your family on Christmas Day?”

Jisung shrugs, looking down again at his cookie. “I’ll try.”

Chenle pops the cap off one of the containers of sprinkles, and when he turns it over, a lot more pours out than he really needed. He swears under his breath, then looks up at you with a smile.

“Maybe I’ll just stay here and celebrate with all of you. You and the foreign members who can’t go home for Christmas.” Jisung reaches over to use some of Chenle’s spilled sprinkles.

“I think you should probably go. Your mom will want to see you.” You place your hand on your belly, feeling as your baby moves. She’s been active today, as if she’s already got a sweet tooth and knows that you’re making cookies. She’s gotten big enough that now if you hold your hand against your belly when you feel the movement, you can feel it from the outside. It’s still not really big kicks or anything, but she’s there.

The oven timer goes off then with the last batch of cookies, and Chenle hops up to pull them out for you.

You’re still decorating when YangYang and Kun enter, bickering with each other. YangYang sits down beside Chenle, folding his arms as he mockingly says something at Kun. Kun rolls his eyes and instead of responding comes around the table to stand behind you.

“Hi, baby.” He kisses the top of your head. “The cookies smell good.”

You nod and tilt your head back to look up at him. She moves again and you reach for Kun’s hand, pulling him closer to put his palm on your belly right where you felt her. None of the boys have felt her move yet. It’s like she’s shy, and any time any of them are around she doesn’t move a whole lot, not enough that they’ve been able to feel anyway.

“Can you feel her?” You ask him, moving his hand a bit more.

Kun looks concentrated, focusing on trying to feel that tiny, wonderful life inside you.

“Hey, you.” You sigh, poking at your belly gently with your fingertip. “Are you gonna move for him?”

From across the table, YangYang speaks up, “Maybe that’s a sign it’s not Kun who’s the dad. If she won’t respond to him.”

You scowl at him. “Stop it. She’s just finally gotten comfortable, I guess.” Kun sits down beside you, and as you continue decorating, he keeps his hand on your belly, but she really doesn’t move around for him to feel.

Even a few hours later when you and the boys have cleared off the kitchen table of cookies to make room for dinner, Kun doesn’t stop touching you, staying close just in case you try to pull him to touch your belly. But you don’t, and soon WinWin, Lucas, Jungwoo, and Taeil are gathered around the table as well for dinner.

It’s only once Yuta walks in with the food, his hair dripping onto his shoulders from the rain, that Kun shifts away from you, too preoccupied with eating now to have a hand on you.

You always love moments like this, casual mealtimes with your boyfriends and the younger boys gathered around, everyone eating and talking and laughing, just having a good time. If you could freeze a moment like that, tie it up nicely with a bow, you could hand it out as happiness. A nice, relaxed warmth fills you as you look around and soak in the moment. Yuta is animatedly telling a story while Taeil and WinWin laugh so hard that WinWin’s nearly in tears, and you feel her moving again, a soft kick, a lovely giddy feeling rising within you. But you don’t interrupt them all, saving this moment to yourself, adding it into the bundle of happiness you’re feeling.

Christmas morning you wake in bed with Doyoung. In your bed. The night before, you’d been watching a drama his brother was in, Doyoung’s head down near your belly, talking to the baby. You’d fallen asleep like that while Doyoung was singing along to the drama’s OST quietly for the baby.

And now his head was beside yours, his face so smooth and peaceful in sleep. You want to touch him, to run your fingers through his hair which is dyed a soft shade of purple at the moment, to lay your fingers against his soft cheek, kiss his lips.

His eyes move beneath his eyelids, his lips part, and Doyoung sighs. You close your eyes quick when you see that he’s waking up, and after a moment, Doyoung shifts. You can hear him lift his head from the pillow, can feel his eyes on you.

You feel a nudge from inside your belly. You’re awake now it seems because she’s awake. She stirs inside you, and you try to keep your facial expression from shifting.

“I know you’re not sleeping.” Doyoung’s fingertips skim down your cheek. “You can stop pretending.”

You open one eye to peek at him. “Good morning. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas and good morning, babygirl.” Doyoung’s knuckles rest adoringly against your cheek. “I’ve missed sleeping with you. Maybe we shouldn’t have gotten rid of the big bed in here because this bed’s a tight enough squeeze for two people. What are we going to do after the baby’s born? When she’s older and wants to sleep with mommy?”

“We’ll make it work.” You turn your head to the side and brush your lips against Doyoung’s wrist. “And, for what it’s worth, I’ve definitely missed sleeping with you too. Sleeping with you and, well, sleeping with you.”

“Remember last Christmas?” Doyoung sighs wistfully, blinking sleepily and resting his head again on the pillow. “You, me, Kun and Ten. That sexy lingerie.” His eyes rake over your figure now, and you can’t help feeling self-conscious. Now you’re all big and pregnant; Doyoung hasn’t touched you for months now, and you can’t help thinking that he’s turned off by you like this, by the whole pregnancy.

Self-consciously, you brush your hands down over your belly, tugging at the hem of the oversized shirt.

Doyoung’s hand lands on your belly too. Your heart leaps and at the same moment you feel your baby kick.

You gasp and your gaze darts to Doyoung’s face. “Did you feel that?”

Doyoung frowns, moving his hand. “Did she kick?”

“You didn’t feel it?” Your delight at the feeling is somewhat lessened. Still, none of your boyfriends have felt her kick. You’d thought for sure that Doyoung would have felt it since he was touching you. He shakes his head sadly. “I think she’s shy. I swear she moves around all the time, I can feel her, and I’d think you guys would be able to feel her now too if she would actually do it when any of you have your hands on my belly.”

“It would be a nice Christmas present, if we could feel her too.” Doyoung sits up, shifting around so he’s kneeling beside you, and he places both of his hands on your belly, and his next words are clearly addressed to your daughter. “Hey, little angel, can’t you just give us a kick? I promise your mom won’t be mad at you for it. I just want to say hi.”

But she’s settled already, it appears.

Doyoung groans as he falls down beside you again, turning his face into the pillow. “Your cat doesn’t like me. Your daughter doesn’t like me.” He opens one eye to look at you as he asks, “You still like me, right?”

“Yes, Doyoung,” you laugh, leaning into him to kiss him reassuringly. “I still like you. And don’t feel bad. Miso doesn’t like anyone, except Ten, but he’s got a way with cats, doesn’t he? And this little one she doesn’t seem to like anyone either. Just the other day she was kicking me and then as soon as I tried to get Kun to feel her, she stopped.”

Doyoung seems satisfied with that. He rolls onto his back, but not before putting a warm hand on your belly. “Maybe I should call our manager, tell her I’m feeling sick and can’t do the schedule today. I could stay here all day, hands on your belly to feel her. I can’t believe I didn’t feel her just now.” He frowns again.

There’s a soft knock on your door and it opens. Yuta peeks his head around, his gaze falling on Doyoung and then on Doyoung’s hand. He’s inside before you get the chance to greet him, already settling on the edge of the bed, his hand joining Doyoung’s now.

“Is she moving?” He asks, unable to conceal the excitement in his voice.

You shake your head. “She did move. But he didn’t feel her. I’m telling you, she’s shy.”

Yuta snorts and shakes his head. “Shy? Where’s she get that from? You’re not really shy. Maybe Taeyong’s the dad, he’s always shying away from touches. Or WinWin or Mark.” He puts another hand on your belly, concentrating like he can telepathically communicate with your baby to get her to kick for them.

“Oh?” A new voice speaks up from the doorway.

You look up from the sight of Yuta and Doyoung’s hands on your belly, an unavoidable smile on your lips, and you find WinWin. He’s got a blanket draped around his shoulders, his eyes drooping sleepily.

“Yuta hyung?” He says, and it’s only then that Yuta looks up.

Yuta jumps to his feet. “Sorry, WinWin. I didn’t want to wake you up.” He looks back at Doyoung. “We have to leave soon. I was just coming to tell you. And Merry Christmas, princess.” He dips in to kiss your cheek. You sit up, half-tempted to pull him into a longer kiss, but Yuta’s already moving away, so you lean back, your back resting against the soft pillows you have propped against the headboard.

Doyoung nods, and then he too is leaving you with a last kiss. WinWin steps out of the way as Yuta walks out, and he stifles a yawn with the back of his hand while Doyoung passes. He starts to turn to leave, but you call his name.

“It’s still early, come sleep here.” You pat the mattress beside you, the sheets still warm from Doyoung. WinWin shuffles inside, kicking the door softly shut behind him, and he flops face-first into your bed. You stroke the fringe of hair on his forehead. “Were you sleeping in Yuta’s room?”

WinWin nods. “Yeah, we were talking last night. About the baby, and the others and you and stuff.” His eyes shoot open and he looks at you. “Not anything bad! I promise. I just realized how that sounded. We were just thinking out loud about the future, really.”

“Like what?”

WinWin pulls his blanket up over his head. “Just saying that we both can picture a future with you. A long future.”

You sink down beside him, lifting the edge of the blanket so you can see his face. WinWin closes his eyes. “You don’t have to tell me, but I think I’d like to hear about your dream plans about our future together. Please?”

WinWin tries to hide a smile.

“Please?” You beg, slipping your hand under the blanket, searching for his skin, and you dip your toes beneath as well, making contact with his bare legs.

He whines and groans, wiggling as if to get away, but you notice that instead he moves closer, that he traps your hands in his and covers your chilly toes with his blanket. “Fine, I’ll tell you. But, God, your fingers and toes are icy.”

You smile as WinWin folds your hands between his and he turns completely onto his side to face you. You whisper, “Tell me.”

“I can see myself happy with you,” WinWin starts off saying, “I don’t really know how to describe it, but I can picture us with the baby, raising her, going on trips together, to China to visit my family, and maybe having more kids, being happy and in love. I don’t know, I think about the future and I just see you. Like, my career here isn’t a certainty, at some point my contract with SM will run out and I don’t know yet what will happen after that, but I know I still want you there with me. I want to raise our daughter with you, to be there for everything, to help you and support you, to love you and her.

“This is the kind of stuff Yuta hyung and I were talking about. The future is dark and scary and uncertain,” WinWin’s voice is unsteady, but he stares into your eyes. “But both of us think that having you here will make everything make sense and make it easier. I just want you to be here with me. You make me feel good, like happy and all kinds of fuzzy emotions that I don’t know how to put into words.” He bites at the corner of his mouth for a second, and then he sighs, “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

You lean in and kiss him, and WinWin happily kisses you back, nice gentle kisses that could last for ages.

The more you think about it, the more you can envision that future WinWin was talking about. Obviously you’ve thought about a future with each of the boys individually before, but also you’ve considered futures together with them all, but especially after that talk, you really think realistically about it.

In just about 4 months you’ll have a baby. A real, live baby out here in the world, depending on you to feed her, clothe her, take care of her physical and emotional well-being. You have to consider her in every single decision you make.

WinWin dozes back off to sleep away the morning, and you snuggle in to the blankets, planning to sleep, but you just keep thinking about your future, seeing the boys fit into it.

You see WinWin, cradling your daughter in his arms, her tiny little hand curled around his little finger as he beams down at her with such adoration in his eyes. You see WinWin taking naps with your daughter on his chest, see him sitting with her when she’s older, letting her host a tea party and stick glittery sequins on his face and hands.

And you can picture the others in situations like this too. Yuta, Doyoung. Yuta kisses her scrapes when she falls down. Yuta dancing silly dances with her in front of the mirror. Doyoung rocking her to sleep in his arms while he sings her lullabies, and napping quietly together with her. You can see Jaehyun carrying your giggling daughter on his shoulders, laughing even as she twists her small chubby hands into his hair and tugs. You can imagine Kun holding her on his lap and playing the piano with her fingers under his, and you can imagine waking up to breakfast in bed cooked by Kun and your daughter. Jungwoo chasing her around in a park with both of them laughing; Taeil singing her to sleep in his arms; Mark being so incredibly gentle with her tiny newborn body. You can see all of them.

“Baby?”

You see Johnny holding your toddler daughter in his arms, zooming her around like she’s flying, him holding her little hands while she stands on his feet as they dance together.

“Baby, wake up.”

You start awake, WinWin’s hand slipping from your shoulder.

The room’s full of bright sunlight, the day already well on its way toward the mid-point. The blankets are twisted around your legs, your shirt you were sleeping in has ridden up over your belly, and WinWin’s now dressed in a warm looking hoodie and a pair of jeans.

“Mm, what?” You yawn.

WinWin touches your hair, smoothing it down where it sticks up in the back. “Your parents are here.”

“What?” You’re suddenly wide awake, throwing the covers off, and standing on your bare feet on the cool floor. “My parents are here? How long have they been here?”

WinWin shrugs. “Well, it was probably about ten minutes ago when Kun hyung ran in here and practically dragged me out of your bed. He said he was making Christmas breakfast when Jaemin answered the door, and it was your parents. I got dressed, and had to pretend like I wasn’t in your room. But, yeah, Kun distracted them with breakfast to keep them downstairs, and he told them he sent someone to wake you up. I’ve been trying to wake you for, like, two minutes. You were out.”

“Oh my God.” You hurry to pull on some pajama pants and Doyoung’s sweatshirt he’d been wearing the night before. “Why wouldn’t they tell me they were stopping by? Rude.”

WinWin smiles, leaning against the door, watching you try your best to look presentable. “They brought you a present. Merry Christmas, by the way.”

As you come down the stairs, you see your mother warily watching Lucas coming down the stairs ahead of you. He’s shirtless, his sweatpants low on his hips. His eyes are half-closed with sleep, his fingers running through his extremely messy hair, and his large rib tattoo on full display. She looks less than approving of the sight.

“Lucas,” you whisper as you pass by him, a hand on his shoulder, “Cover up, please.”

He blinks, and then, for the first time, sees your mother. Lucas grins sheepishly, grabs a blanket from the back of the sofa, and drapes it around his shoulders.

“Mom, Dad!” You walk over, hugging your mother. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming by?”

“We wanted to surprise you.” She smiles, and as you step back, she looks around at the boys that seem to be gathering. “I’m sorry, I guess I didn’t realize all of these boys live here all the time. I would have brought more presents if I’d known. Why aren’t they celebrating with their families?”

Mostly, the boys that are around you are the WayV members, but Jaemin and Jisung are hanging around too. You know they have a schedule later on in the day, so you explain that to your mother, and then say, “Kun, WinWin, and Lucas are all from China. They can’t go home just for the holiday. None of them have gone home, several of them have to work today.”

As you say that, Taeyong comes zooming down the stairs, his coat half on, and he pauses at your side already leaning in as if to kiss your cheek when he spots your parents. He quickly covers by whispering in your ear instead, a quick, “See you later, love you.” And then he hurries over to where Haechan and Taeil are standing near the door.

“Is Johnny working today?” Your dad asks. You notice he’s nibbling at something that looks suspiciously like one of the cookies Jisung had decorated the other day. “Our present is kinda a present for both of you. We wanted you to open it together.”

He glances toward the stairs where a drowsy Hendery is stumbling his way down, also dressed in only his boxers and a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. You briefly close your eyes and sigh. Why can’t these boys wear clothes? It’s freezing outside and you have surprise guests.

Your mother clears her throat.

“Johnny’s also working today. He should already be gone.” You glance around at the other boys, hoping one of them will confirm or deny if he’s already gone.

“Johnny hyung’s got a lot of presents today.” Jaemin comments from where he’s sitting on the sofa. He points at a box sitting by the TV. “That was delivered while we were waiting for you to come down. I think it’s from America.” He walks over to it and cranes his neck, trying to read the label.

You turn your attention back to your parents. “I wish you would’ve let me know you were coming over. I would have dressed up a little better.” You bunch up the sleeves of Doyoung’s sweatshirt in your hands. You feel sloppy with the sweater paws and the oversized pajama pants, your hair unkempt. But your mother smiles. “What?”

“Nothing.” She glances at your father with a soft smile, and he smiles back at her. “You’ve just got that lovely pregnancy glow going. And we are sorry about the surprise intrusion. Your father told me we should’ve called ahead to make sure you were awake, that you were ready to accept a visit.”

“And to make sure Johnny was here. I’ve been wanting to have a word with him about his intentions with you.” Your father pitches his voice lower as he ends that sentence, but nevertheless, you’re sure that every ear in the house is tuned in to the conversation. Out of the corner of your eye, you see several heads snap in your direction.

“His intentions?” You ask. “Dad, this isn’t a new relationship, I’m already pregnant. What do you mean?”

Now your father looks around at the others. You see WinWin duck his head, pretending like he’s not listening. In the kitchen Kun’s standing there, slicing nothing on the cutting board, but suddenly looking very focused on the task. Lucas and Hendery are whispering to each other. Only Jaemin doesn’t pretend like he’s not listening.

“I know when you told us about this, we said we understand that you’re a modern woman, but at the same time, we just want what’s best for you.” Your father says, spreading his hands out in such a dad gesture. “Being an unmarried mother, it’s still not a good thing, even in times like this. I think, since he got you pregnant, he should marry you to provide for you and his daughter.”

“Dad!” You exclaim.

There’s a sound like something breaking in the kitchen, and Kun’s hushed swearing in Chinese.

Your mother and father say your name in a warning, calming tone.

“No,” you tell them, “I’m not going to marry Johnny. Not just because you think I should. That would be stupid.”

Now, both of your parents suddenly look uncomfortable with the audience of the other boys. Maybe they should’ve thought about that before bringing this up in front of them. “Maybe we should go talk about this in private?” Your mom suggests.

You shake your head no. “Whatever you want to say, you can say it here in front of all of them.” You put a hand over your belly. “Strange as it may be for you to hear, all of them are going to be a part of my future too. So they should hear what you have to say.”

“We can’t tell you how to live your life--” your mother starts, and you cut her off.

“You’re right about that.” You walk away, heading into the kitchen. “I think, for the sake of today being a happy holiday, we should drop that subject.”

Kun looks at you, his gaze searching yours. You’re fine, you want to tell him, you can tell that’s what he’s looking at you like that for.

“We have plenty of food,” you tell your parents over your shoulder. “You’re welcome to stay for breakfast. Kun’s a great cook.” You slide into place beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder, and you stare at your parents, wondering if they notice the closeness, the way that Kun shifts into your gravity, relaxes under your touch. If either of them notices, they don’t say anything.

They decide not to stay for breakfast with all of you, but they do stay long enough for you to open the present they brought and for you to send Renjun running up to your bedroom to grab the presents you have for your parents. Their gifts from you to them are just simple yet heartfelt gifts, things you know they’d like.

And then you open the gift from them, wrapped with care in pretty paper that you feel bad to tear into.

It’s a frame with a print of a soundwave, and it’s only when you read the words beneath that you realize what it is.

“Is this her heartbeat?” You cover your mouth, placing your other hand on your belly. “How did you do this?”

Your mother smiles warmly. “Well, you sent me that recording of the heartbeat from your first appointment, so I just used that for the company that makes these. Do you like it?”

You do.

Several of the boys crowd in around the back of the chair where you’re sitting looking down at the waves of your baby’s heartbeat. When you stand up, moving the frame aside so you can go hug your parents again, Ten takes the frame from you, studying the image, but you’re already wrapping your arms around your parents, trying your best not to break out in tears (and failing).

It takes a while to get you to calm down even after your parents have left and half of the boys in the house are settling down to eat the Christmas breakfast that Kun prepared.

“Hey,” Ten coos, wiping at your tears gently. “If you stop crying you can eat. There’s no way you’ll be able to taste Kun’s great cooking with all these tears.” He pulls his sleeves down over his hands and dabs at the fresh tears. “Babe, why are you crying so much, it’ll make me cry.”

You just drop your head onto his shoulder and sniffle. You don’t know why you’re crying so much, but you can’t stop. So Ten just wraps his arms around you, holding you, rubbing your back until at last your tears run dry. He kisses your cheeks and then your lips, and leads you by hand to the kitchen table.

“We’ll hang it up in your room tomorrow, after everyone’s had a look at it, how’s that sound?” Kun asks, squeezing your knee reassuringly beneath the table.

The rest of your Christmas runs smoothly and happily. After eating breakfast (which was really delicious, you later that day pay your compliments to the chef by kissing Kun, drawing him into the shower with you), much of the rest of the day is spent on the sofa down in the living room watching Christmas movies, snacking on the Christmas cookies you’d made, and the boys pass in and out of the house, heading to work, coming home.

By nightfall, most of them are home again. Snow is falling thickly outside. Renjun’s finally managed to befriend Miso by tossing bits of popcorn for your cat to chase (in an attempt to distract him from destroying the ornaments glittering on the tree in the corner of the room), and you rest your head on Jaehyun’s chest, his hand resting on your belly, everyone waiting for the last few boys to arrive home so you can all truly celebrate Christmas with an exchange of gifts.

You’re nearly asleep, lulled by the sound of the others talking, the warmth and comfort of being bundled up with Jaehyun, his hand a gentle weight on your baby bump, and you finished eating not too long ago.

You’ve quite literally just dropped off when something makes you jolt awake again.

At first you think it’s Jaehyun because he’s suddenly moved, sitting more upright, his hands around you. Then you think maybe you just startled yourself awake as sometimes happens when you suddenly drop off to sleep, and the movement of you waking is why Jaehyun’s like this. Then you realize he’s speaking, his voice excited and startled.

You put one of your hands over Jaehyun’s, and you feel it again. A sharp kick from your womb, nudging right against Jaehyun’s hand.

He swears.

Everyone else in the room is looking now, and it takes a few moments longer for them all to realize what was happening.

Jaehyun wraps his arms around you, both hands on your belly as your daughter moves again. He’s grinning widely, and when Taeil stumbles over himself trying to get close enough that he can feel too, Jaehyun selfishly tries to keep you and your moving baby all to himself.

“Of course Jaehyun’s the one to feel the baby first.” Ten rolls his eyes from where he’s leaning against Kun on the other side of the room. “His jealousy wouldn’t let anyone else feel her first.”

“It’s not like he did it on purpose, or like I did it on purpose.” You reach for Taeil’s hand as he sits on the edge of the sofa, and you bring his hand to your belly. “Jaehyun, let the others feel too. Don’t be stingy.”

He doesn’t really move his hand too far away, but just enough away that you can press Taeil’s hand to where she’s moving. Lucas comes closer as well.

Half the room is still gathered around you when Johnny, Mark, Yuta, and Doyoung come home.

“Ugh, not fair!” Mark groans, kicking off his shoes and dropping his stuff on his way to join the mass of boys around you. “The baby’s kicking and we missed it?” He shoulders his way between Jungwoo and Hendery, “Has everyone felt her moving?”

Hendery shakes his head sadly. “I’m starting to agree that she’s shy. Jaehyun hyung and Taeil hyung felt her moving. Xiaojun swears he felt her, and Lucas too, but after them, we haven’t felt her.”

Jaehyun’s still got his arms wrapped around you securely, jealously. He covers your hands with his because you’ve still got your hands on your belly, trying to feel her moving so you can let the others feel her, but she’s fallen asleep again.

Doyoung pouts as he comes over. “That was meant to be my Christmas present this morning. She kicked while we were in bed earlier, but I didn’t feel it then.”

You pat Jaehyun’s hand, getting him to let you up, and then you point at the box that was delivered that morning for Johnny. “That’s for you, Johnny. And my parents dropped by this morning. They got us a present, too.” You stand and move over to where you’d propped the frame from your parents against the wall, and you turn it around to the room.

“Woah, is that her heartbeat?” Mark squints as if he can’t quite tell.

You nod enthusiastically. “My mom took the recording of the heartbeat from my first appointment, made this for us. Isn’t it wonderful?”

Taeyong bites at his bottom lip, his eyes wide and softening as he looks at the rises and falls of your daughter’s visual heartbeat. You sit the frame back down lightly on the floor, facing the room so they can all still see it, but you go sit back down beside Jaehyun who immediately clings to you again, hands on your belly.

You can tell from the way he’s touching you now, gently pressing against your belly, he’s hoping to feel her again. But then as the others all settle into the room, as talk turns to exchanging gifts and presents begin to be pulled out from under the tree (where you’d made each of the boys wrap gifts and sit them--the resulting mountain of presents was very satisfying, like a Christmas dream come true), Jaehyun gets even touchier.

With his fingers low on your baby bump, he starts drawing his fingers in a distracting circle. You’re sitting right on his lap, back to his chest, his chin tucked over your shoulder, and occasionally Jaehyun drops his lips against your shoulder.

“Stop it,” you whisper to him when he kisses your shoulder for the fifteenth time, his fingers still tracing that circle, and now he’s got a hand rubbing your thigh. You don’t want to feel horny right now, but Jaehyun’s definitely working you up to it. He turns his head, lips brushing your throat and you can feel that he’s smiling. “Jaehyun, I’ll go sit with Doyoung instead if you don’t.”

Reluctantly, he lifts his head with a sigh, and he tucks both of his arms behind his head with another long drawn out sigh.

You start to slide off his lap into the open space right beside him, but Jaehyun starts to voice a complaint, trying to keep you there.

The look you give him has him keeping his hands to himself, dragging a decorative pillow into his lap instead.

Xiaojun welcomes you sitting between him and Jaehyun. Presents are passed around, gifts that they bought for each other, for you, gifts sent here from their families, and gifts you bought for them. Someone breaks out the Christmas cookies. Several of them open some wine. Gift opening takes a while, the room is a sea of torn wrapping paper, empty boxes floating on it all like lifeboats. YangYang and Haechan double-over in laughter as they wrap Jeno in a long ribbon one of their gifts had come wrapped with.

Johnny opened his package that had arrived that day, and it turns out to be a collection of candy and snacks from America one of his friends in Chicago had sent him.

“Sweet!” Mark dives into it, pulling out a candy you don’t recognize, and after that the others are digging through it too, quickly sampling all that Johnny’s package has to offer. Mark settles on the ground at your feet, unwrapping the candy, and when he slips it over the tip of his finger you realize that it’s a Ring Pop, a lollipop fashioned into a diamond mounted on a plastic ring base.

Mark grins as he pops it into his mouth. He sucks on it for just a second then looks up at you, pleased when he sees you’re already looking at him. He takes your hand from where it sits on your knee.

“Remember?” Mark asks, tapping his finger against the base of your ring finger.

Of course you remember Mark proposing to you. You also remember promising him that no matter what you’ll be in each other’s lives. You also remember that you have hidden that proposal from all of the other guys, and you’re pretty sure Mark has too. You pray he doesn’t attempt a reenactment here with this ring.

Jaehyun, already in his possessive mood since you’ve spent the majority of the evening cuddling with him and since he had the privilege to feel your daughter moving first, immediately perks up and stares.

“Remember what?” He asks.

Mark laughs and shakes his head, dropping your hand and edging away. “Nothing, Jaehyun.”

But now several of the others are looking, and it’s Ten who notices Mark’s candy and the way he’d held your hand. With a laugh, he asks, “What, did Mark ask you to marry him or something?”

The way he asked, it was clear that Ten meant it as a joke. Several of the others start laughing right away, but when everyone notices the way that you and Mark both go still and awkward, the room falls silent except for one person.

“What the fuck?” Jaehyun stands up, glaring down at Mark who scrambles to his feet. “You asked her to marry you? When? Why?” He takes a step forward, and in Mark’s panicked rush to step away from Jaehyun’s jealousy, he takes a few steps back, slips on torn wrapping paper, and windmills his arms before crashing down into WinWin and Hendery.

Jaehyun takes another step forward, and you push to your feet.

“Do I need to restrain you or something?” You ask, squeezing your fingers into the muscle of Jaehyun’s arm.

Yuta laughs, a wonderful sound in this otherwise very tense situation. “I’d love to see that.”

Jaehyun glares at Yuta, and it takes another few seconds of you digging your fingers into his arm and tugging to get him to sit back down again.

“Don’t be so dense, Jaehyun. And the rest of you.” You let up your grip on his arm. Jaehyun clenches his hand into a fist again, so you cover his hand with yours, doing your best to pry his fist apart, slip your fingers inside. “Stop being so possessive. I obviously didn’t say yes to Mark. Have you seen a ring on my finger? Do you really think I would say yes to marrying one of you without talking it out with the others first? No.”

You look around at all of them.

Jaehyun isn’t alone in staring at Mark with anger in their eyes. It’s obvious that Mark had neither discussed his impromptu proposal with any of them, nor had he told them about it afterward.

“I told Mark no. Relax, everyone.” You shake your head in disbelief that this evening, which had been so happy and warm moments before, had now dissipated into a cold and tense atmosphere.

“When did that happen?” Taeil asks, and his face is so serious, his expression tight, you don’t hesitate to answer.

“Just a few days after we all found out I was pregnant. I told him no right away.”

Mark nods, wincing and rubbing at his arm. “She did. She also slapped me, if that makes you all feel better.”

“It does a little,” Jaehyun mumbles. “But why would you do that, Mark? Did you not even consider all the toes you’d be stepping on? There’s thirteen other guys in this relationship.”

As if just wanting to feel included in the conversation, Jaemin says, “Yeah, Mark. That’s at least a hundred toes that you were stepping on.” But when Mark frowns in his direction, Jaemin slumps back into Jeno where the two of them, Renjun, and YangYang are seated on the floor.

“I didn’t say yes, though. Mark and I talked about it afterwards, like why he thought it was a good idea, and I get it.” You look over at him, and then look around the room, your gaze meeting Jungwoo’s, Taeyong’s, Kun’s. “But like I said, I won’t marry one boyfriend without at least talking about it with the rest of you first.”

This wasn’t the Christmas present that you wanted. A fight. It was meant to be a happy holiday.

“Why don’t we all calm down.” Taeyong stands up, then he bends over and starts gathering up nearby scraps of wrapping paper. “Let’s clean up all this mess, and then we can play games. You said you wanted us to try games, right?” He asks you, and you nod.

You’d been talking about Christmas for weeks leading up to tonight. You wanted a nice, family Christmas. That’s why you’d decorated the house, made them wrap presents, and now you wanted to all sit around and play games with each other and snack on Christmas cookies and the snacks from Johnny’s box.

Doyoung jumps up to help Taeyong with cleaning, and soon others join in. The paper goes in a trash bag, boxes are disposed of. Several of the guys carry their unwrapped gifts up to their rooms. The room’s cleared soon, and everyone settles back into their spots with snacks and drinks and happier attitudes.

The rest of the evening passes happily with only minor disputes related to the games, and as the hour grows later and later, you start to nod off, your head on Taeil’s shoulder.

You definitely don’t mean to fall asleep down there on the sofa instead of in your much more comfortable bed, but at some point your heavy eyes sink shut and don’t open again until much later.

Your head is still on Taeil’s shoulder when you again wake, but he’s asleep now.

Someone must’ve just turned the lights off in the now nearly empty living room. Besides you and Taeil, Jungwoo’s asleep on the other sofa. Ten’s awake still, sitting in the armchair on his phone with the brightness turned low, probably to not wake up Taeyong who’s squeezed into the chair beside him, his head resting against the back of the chair.

There’s the sound of someone climbing the stairs, soft voices. A light on the second floor landing goes out, and you shake yourself fully awake.

Taeil stirs a little, but when you stand up, he remains asleep. Ten, however, looks up from his phone.

“Goodnight,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Thank you for my present.”

Ten picks up your hand in his, gently squeezing. “Thank you for mine. Are you going to bed?”

You nod and stifle a yawn. “Merry Christmas, Ten.”

“Merry Christmas. Goodnight.” He brushes his thumb over your knuckles before releasing your hand.

You climb the stairs slowly. Your back aches and your limbs are heavy with tiredness. Whose idea was it to put your room on the top floor of this house?

As you reach the top floor, you see a strip of light around the bathroom in the hallway, hear voices coming from inside, and you intend to tiptoe past it, but as you do, you hear your name. You pause, unable to keep yourself from eavesdropping, especially once you recognize the voices as Jaehyun’s and Mark’s.

“I’m sorry,” Jaehyun apologizes, “Mark, I shouldn’t have reacted like that earlier.” He sighs heavily. “I know I act like a jealous dick over her a lot, and you always call me out on that, as you should. I just, when I thought about you doing that, about her giving up on a future with the rest of us, it broke something in me.”

“But she didn’t, man.” Mark’s voice sounds a little strange, and it’s only after you hear him spit into the sink that you realize that they’re having this conversation while brushing their teeth. “Literally, the second that the question was out of my mouth she shut me down, told me I was being stupid. I know it was stupid too, is the thing. Why do you think neither she or I ever mentioned it to any of you guys?”

“Figured you were embarrassed.” Jaehyun laughs. “God, honestly, Mark. What were you thinking?”

Mark groans. “I was raised by a proper by-the-books family! She’d just told us she was pregnant. So I was going to marry her, make sure that she has a husband to help her with the baby.”

“And what are the rest of us?” Jaehyun’s voice is amused, but there’s still a dark edge to it that you’re sure Mark doesn’t miss either. “Do you honestly think that she won’t have all of us to help her after the baby’s born? That once we find out which of us is the father the rest of us are going to leave? If you’re not the father, are you going to break up with her.”

You don’t hear Mark verbally give an answer, but Jaehyun chuckles.

“No, didn’t think so.” Things are quiet between them for a few seconds, and just as you’re about to continue on to your bedroom, Jaehyun speaks up again. “I would never tell her this, but last week I was talking about the paternity with Lucas and Taeyong while we were taking a break from practice. Taeyong said he’d been doing the math, some research, and from what he found of timelines online and what he can remember of who she was with around that exact date he found using a calculator, he thinks it’s probably you, Johnny, Lucas, or Jungwoo.”

You’ve done your own research and listened to what your doctor said. You know the probable date of conception. You remember that you probably did have sex with most of the guys within that window of time around that date of conception. You also remember that there are a few that you probably didn’t have sex with, or if you did they didn’t cum inside you.

But you also definitely remember that of those four that Jaehyun just listed, you did definitely have sex with them. Multiple times.

Jaehyun starts speaking again. “Lucas said he’s talked to her about the paternity before, and that he kinda hopes it’s not him.”

“Shit,” Mark swears. “What did she say?”

“That whoever the biological father is is going to be in the baby’s life no matter what, even if he doesn’t think he’ll be a good dad.” There’s the rushing sound of the faucet turned on, water splashing in the sink. “He told Taeyong and I that if he’s not the dad, he’s not too sure he’ll be able to stick around.”

Mark swears again.

Fuck, you wish you would have walked away, that you hadn’t stopped to listen. So you move now before you can hear anything else.

Lucas really doesn’t want to be a dad. He can’t even entertain the possibility of being a father to your baby if he’s not genetically invested in it?

As you sink into your bed, drawing the sheets up to your chin, all you can do is replay Jaehyun’s words, replay that day you’d had that conversation with Lucas--a picnic date that had turned naughty just moments after that serious conversation--and your mind runs in circles, playing back Lucas’s hands on your skin, your mouth on his, his laughter in your ears.

For the first time in months and months, you have that feeling of the bottom of your stomach dropping, a dark pit opening up.

Someday this relationship as a massive polyamorous thing is going to reach its end. Boyfriends will step away. Some will stay, but eventually some will leave. You’ve always known this. It’s why you broke up with them earlier that year, but the gravity of them had brought you back.

It hurts to think about, to know that you love them all so much, but maybe this love is going to have to change.

The last few days of the year pass quickly, and then you’re hosting a New Year’s Eve party at the house with the boys who aren’t attending Gayo Daejejeon, some of your friends in attendance as well as some of their friends.

Your friends socialize with the boys, growing more comfortable with them. You’re not even surprised when one of your friends really gets along well with Lucas, and you watch the two of them laughing and throwing back shots together with Jaehyun. And most of your friends take this opportunity to try once more to dig out the truth from them about which of them is the one that you’re in a relationship with. They don’t tell you, but you’re pretty sure that they’re all waiting for midnight, for the moment to see which of the boys will be your New Year’s kiss.

So at midnight you continue to try to make it confusing for your friends by kissing every single one of the boys there. You just kiss them on the cheek. Taeil, Kun, Lucas, Renjun, Doyoung, Taeyong, Xiaojun, Chenle, and Jaehyun all receive a kiss on the cheek from you in those moments after midnight. Kun received his kiss first along with an enthusiastic round of “happy birthday” cheers from around the room.

And when the others arrive home in a flood of happiness and cheers of “Happy New Year!” you kiss them all as well, surprising some of the Dream members who certainly hadn’t expected it, and disappointing a few of your boyfriends who were expecting a full kiss but only got a peck on the cheek.

Your friends are sufficiently confused by your kissing of so many of the members, and they persistently question you about which of them is the father. They even make guesses based off of how you act with the boys, which you find extremely funny after one of your friends pulls you aside to ask if the father is Renjun because you’d been goofing around with him for most of the party.

By the time the party ends a few hours later, you’re exhausted and achy, but you’re happy to have rung in the New Year with the boys and with your friends. You already know this year is going to be a great one, with the birth of your daughter already taking the number one spot.

Everyone leaves the party mess downstairs to be cleaned up tomorrow, and then there’s a drunken parade of boys climbing the stairs to bed. Taeyong has to be carried up to bed by Johnny because he over-indulged in the after-show drinks and then even more once they arrived home.

And you’d thought you’d be going to bed alone, but as you start to climb the final flight of stairs to the top floor, a hand comes to rest on your lower back.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” Kun asks softly. “Lucas snores horribly when he’s drunk.”

“Just to warn you, I think I’ve been snoring lately too,” you admit. “But of course you can sleep with me.”

Kun laughs, but you’re serious. Lately you’ve started snoring badly, and when you looked it up because it was kinda concerning when Taeyong woke you the other night, grumbling because your snoring was making it difficult for him to sleep, it turns out that it’s just another pregnancy symptom.

But Kun snuggles into bed with you, kissing your belly as you settle in. “Goodnight, little angel. Don’t kick your mommy too much, just dream tonight.”

As if she knows he’s talking to her, you feel a little nudge.

“Kun, here.” You take his hand and bring it to where you felt her move. “She always does this as soon as I lay down and get comfortable. Can you feel her?” She does it again.

Over the last few days, the boys have been touching your stomach pretty much any chance they can get, always hoping to feel her like Jaehyun, Taeil, and Xiaojun had. So far, they haven’t really felt her again, which in doing some research on that as well, you realize that at just on that edge between twenty-two and twenty-three weeks it’s not uncommon for the baby’s movements to still not be felt from the outside. Maybe she’d just been really, really active on Christmas, excitement for the holiday and all that.

Kun keeps talking to her, holding his hand against your belly with your hand pressed to the back of his. You can tell he so badly wants to feel her, and you want him to be able to feel her. You want all of them to feel her move because it’s so strange and amazing.

You lay on your side facing Kun, relaxing and feeling your eyes grow heavier and heavier as he starts singing to her, his hands caressing your belly.

When you wake in the morning, Kun’s still got a hand on your belly though you’ve turned over to your other side. He’s spooning you, a hand on your belly, his warm breath on your shoulder. You feel so warm and comfortable, safe and happy, like you need never leave the bed. Until a sudden sense of urgency reminds you why you just woke up.

When you return from the bathroom and slide back into bed, feeling much better with any empty bladder but also much colder outside the sheets, you find Kun awake.

“Do you have a schedule today?” You ask him, resting your head on the pillow again.

Kun shakes his head. “Yeah, but not until much later.”

You pat the sheets. “Then stay here. It’s your birthday, you deserve to sleep in. And besides that, we both want you here. Isn’t that right?” You rub a hand over your belly, tilting your head down to address it.

“Oh, well, if that’s what the princess wants.” Kun smiles and sinks back down beside you, facing the ceiling. “I can’t believe in just a few months, she’s going to be born. It’s crazy to think that just a year ago this relationship was still fairly new, but in just months we’re going to have a baby. I think some of us are definitely more ready for it than others.” He’s smiling as he says it, and you know Kun is thinking about how ready he is to be a father, not necessarily thinking about the other side of things.

But now you are thinking about the other side of things. About the boys who aren’t ready to be fathers really.

So you just scoot closer and press your face against Kun’s chest, trying to forget about your worries.

A few weeks pass, and then you’re twenty-five weeks along. And by this point your belly is very round, very obviously pregnant to the point that your coworkers like to pat it when they’re near you, always wanting to feel the baby when you groan and put your hand to your stomach because she kicked. And also, she’s reached the point in development where she gets hiccups, you were surprised to find.

It was a startling feeling the first time you felt it. It was just a twitching feeling, unfamiliar, though similar to kicking.

You’d been sitting on the sofa with Ten and Johnny when it happened, and Johnny had been quick to slide over to feel the spot that you indicated. And his lips had curled up into a bright smile as he said, “Hiccups. She’s hiccuping.”

Ten wanted in on feeling it too, and then as the three of you enjoyed the oddness of feeling her do this, Ten started looking online for ways to get rid of a baby’s hiccups in-utero, but it turned out that it wasn’t a big deal. Just drink some water. By the time Johnny had gone to get you a glass of water and brought it back, the hiccuping had already stopped, but she was moving, rolling inside you.

Ten stayed slumped beside you, messing around on his phone, and it wasn’t until he suddenly asks you, “Are you doing kegels?”

“Excuse me?” You turn to look at him. “What, like right now?”

“No.” Ten shakes his head. “I just mean, in general. This website says that it’s really important for pregnant women to practice kegels. Helps with labor and preventing bladder incontinence afterwards. Apparently it’s good for everyone to practice, but especially people who are pregnant.”

Admittedly, you have not been practicing any pelvic floor exercises, but now that Ten suggests it, and keeps reading off information about it, he and Johnny decide that they’re going to do it too. So after a bit more research Johnny and Ten are doing stretches on the floor, planning to do some yoga and some kegels, and you just excuse yourself from that because you don’t mind doing kegels, but you don’t like sitting there with them knowing that your vagina is contracting. There’s just something odd and very strangely intimate about that. It doesn’t matter that they have both been extremely intimate with your vagina before.

So you climb upstairs in search of something to distract you from the laughter and wrestling sounds and grunts you can hear coming from your two boyfriends downstairs.

Jaehyun’s laying on his bed. The duvet is crooked beneath him, the bed not really made, and he’s fully clothed with his arms tucked beneath his head. A record is playing quietly, so you almost feel bad for interrupting, but when Jaehyun opens his eyes and sees you standing there at the edge of his bed, he smiles.

“Hey, babe.”

You’re stunned when, a moment later, as Jaehyun sits up, a tiny, furry (usually pissed off) head appears beside him.

“Miso’s here?” You’re shocked that he’s finally warming up to the boys. Slowly, but he is.

Jaehyun hums and lifts his hand to stroke Miso’s head, but apparently your cat draws the line at petting. He’s fine with cuddling up to Jaehyun though. He balks now, glaring at the offending hand. Jaehyun just laughs and wiggles his fingers at Miso. “He was in here when I woke up. I guess the others left the door open when they left so he came in. Completely ignored me until I got up to put on some music, then when I laid down, he hopped up here with me. Finally starting to like me.”

He tries again to pet the cat, and this time Miso actually bares his teeth.

“Miso!” You chastise him and lift him up in your arms. He immediately starts purring, nuzzling against you. “I just hope he likes her once she’s born. He’s taking so long to warm up to all of you.”

Jaehyun stretches out on his back again, humming along to the music. “I’m sure he’ll love her. Pets are usually good with kids, right?”

You can only hope.

Hope that your cat gets along with your baby. Hope that your boyfriends stay with you. Hope that life isn’t entirely altered in a few months.

“Were you looking for me? Did you need something?” Jaehyun asks after a moment.

You shake your head and sit Miso down as he begins to struggle. He bolts from the room. “No, I was just trying to escape Ten and Johnny trying to get me to do group kegels with them.”

“Kegels?” Jaehyun laughs. “My trainer at the gym has me do those. He says it’s good for lots of things, and it’s important to stay up on it so when I’m old I don’t have so many problems.”

From down on the first floor the grunts of Johnny and Ten echo upstairs.

“Are they doing them now?” Jaehyun turns his head slightly toward the door.

“I’m not really sure what they’re doing,” you admit. “I just felt awkward sitting there, thinking about doing it all together.”

Jaehyun sits up. “I mean, it’s not like they’ll know if you’re doing it. You can do it anywhere, anytime.” There’s another obnoxious noise from downstairs, and Jaehyun rolls his eyes a bit. “If they are doing it, they’re not doing it right.”

And now you feel a bit warm as you ask, “You said your trainer has you do them?” Jaehyun nods. “How exactly do you know you’re doing it right?”

In theory you know what a kegel is, how to do it, but you also don’t know if you’re totally doing it right. Jaehyun has experience.

“My trainer explained it to me, told me in detail about how it should feel. I did a little research online, making sure he wasn’t just making it up because at first it sounded weird to me.” He ruffles his fingers through his hair. “If you want, I can help make sure you’re doing it right.”

“What?” Your face heats up. “How?”

Jaehyun reaches out to you, his fingers on your thigh. “You’re embarrassed, aren’t you?” He’s teasing, but you can tell that Jaehyun’s a little embarrassed too. His ears are too pink for him to not be embarrassed. “It might sound weird, but I’d put my finger in you while you do it.”

You fold your arms in front of you. “Jae, if you want to finger me, all you have to do is say so.”

He rolls his eyes. “That’s not it. Seriously, I know how it’s supposed to feel, and if I do that for you, then you’ll know if you’re doing it right.”

You hold his gaze for a long moment. Still seems like a trick to just have sex, but also you definitely trust Jaehyun to help you with this. “Okay, but go wash your hands first.”

Jaehyun pushes up off the bed, passing out the door within the second.

“Thoroughly!” You call out after him.

“Yes, Mom!” Jaehyun shouts back at you.

You sit down on the edge of the bed, and a minute later Jaehyun comes back into the room, closing the door behind him with his foot, holding his hands aloft like a surgeon entering the OR.

“This is weird,” you mumble, looking up at Jaehyun still standing there, not touching anything, and you take your pants and panties off. “This feels like a medical examination.”

“Don’t think of it that way.” Jaehyun kneels on the bed as you lay back, lifting your knees much like you would at an examination. He looks between your legs, then flicks his gaze up to your face. “Okay, maybe this is a little weird.”

It takes you both a few moments to get over the weirdness of it, and then he’s got a finger inside you as he coaxes you to try a kegel. You do it, but you’re embarrassed, covering your face as you tighten the muscles, contracting around Jaehyun’s finger.

“Try it again,” Jaehyun tells you. “But hold it for a few seconds, then relax.”

You whine. This definitely feels weird, not like physically a wrong sensation, just the situation itself.

“Relax,” Jaehyun smiles, and he kisses your knee. “You’re too tense to do this. Do I need to help you relax?”

He kisses your knee again, his finger starts pumping, just a slow stroke of his finger inside you. His lips start to trail along your thigh from your knee toward the apex of your thighs.

“Jaehyun,” you whimper, and drape your arms over your face. “I knew you just wanted to have sex. You could just, I don’t know, tell me that.”

“I was genuinely trying to help you.” Jaehyun nips your inner thigh. “But, mmhm, this is a nice turn. You’re getting so wet, fuck.”

When Jaehyun’s tongue meets your wetness, licking at you even as he continues thrusting his long middle finger inside you, you bite at your arm to hold back your moans just a bit. It’s been so long since one of them ate you out. At least about six months, definitely not at all since they found out you were pregnant, too scared to put their face down there at your pussy like they were scared to see the baby staring back at them.

But Jaehyun carefully uses his tongue on you, driving you absolutely wild with pleasure. Your heart pounds, and all of this racing through you doesn’t just awaken your lust.

“Oh, God. Jaehyun.” You gasp, less from what his tongue is actually doing to you in the moment. You take one of his hands and drag it up to your belly. He pauses when he feels what you feel. “We woke her up.”

Jaehyun sits up quickly, looking down at your belly in awe. He brings his other hand to your stomach, feeling your daughter moving in your belly, spurred into movement because of what Jaehyun was doing to you.

You half expect Jaehyun to back off then, to be weirded out about having sex with the baby awake and moving. But, apparently you underestimate his horniness and his kink for you being pregnant.

Jaehyun pushes your shirt up, completely away from your belly, and you sit up as best as you can to pull your shirt the rest of the way over your head, reach back to unfasten your bra, and then you lay back down, and look up at Jaehyun as he slips backwards off the bed, his eyes raking over your bare body before him.

“I love seeing you like this,” Jaehyun groans, tugging his shirt over his head. “You’re beautiful.”

You flush at the compliment.

“Yeah, sure. All big and bloated, with stretchmarks.” Just a few mornings ago, you’d looked in the mirror and, to your horror, had spotted stretchmarks on your belly and a dark line was stretching down from your belly button. It’s not that you’d never seen stretchmarks on yourself before, but these were just too much for you to handle in addition to everything else. “I’m gorgeous. Sign me up for a runway.”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes with a gentle smile, and he kneels down on the bed. He takes your hands, holding them down against your sides as he leans in and kisses your belly. “Would you walk a runway if I did sign you up? I could pull some strings. You’d be radiant, powerful, so sexy modeling like this.” He leaves your hands to touch your thighs instead, spreading them so he can fit between them easier.

The heat rises under your skin, both from his words and his touches. Jaehyun’s hands slide higher, thumbs stroking tenderly at the very top of your thighs.

“Very, very sexy.” Jaehyun leans in and kisses you. It’s a slow, sensual kiss, liquefying your insides as he also dips his hips forward, grinding lightly against you. “You’re beautiful. Seeing you like this is legitimately a sexy dream come true.”

It is quite a confidence boost to have him telling you that he finds you so sexy when you look at yourself like this and don’t see anything great. The way he’s looking at you right now, like he would eat you alive if he could, sends a new wonderful thrill through you, which physically manifests as a shiver and your baby moving inside you.

“That’s so strange,” Jaehyun smiles, looking down at your belly where you can see her moving. He puts a hand over her. “Is it weird if we keep going?” He asks. “Like, do you think she can... feel it?”

At this point you don’t care. He’s got you hot and ready for him, so you don’t care if she can feel it, it’s not like she knows what’s happening, and it’s not like his dick is big enough to get through your cervix or anything as disturbing as that. You just grip at his arms.

“Jaehyun, just get inside me. Please.” You feel like you’re whining, begging, but you can’t help it. It’s been months since you and Jaehyun last really were intimate. You’ve missed having him like this, touching him and being touched by him like this.

He smiles, busy touching your belly, but when you start pouting, he grins even wider. “You’re so cute,” he tells you. “Do you need me so badly, princess?” He leans in to kiss you, carefully avoiding pressing on your belly. “You miss my cock?”

You moan his name, try to squeeze your legs around him to drive his cock against you, inside you. But he just pats your leg, and sits up, shifting back onto his heels.

“I want you to ride me.” Jaehyun flips over onto his back.

“Right, cause that’s fair.” You sit up and look down at him. “I’m the one putting in all the work, building a baby inside me. Why don’t you do all the work?”

Jaehyun reaches for your belly again. “I just think it’s a better position to appreciate you from. You’ve always looked so good when you’re on top, and now, fuck, with your tits this full and your beautiful baby bump? You look like a goddess, and I’m totally serious, so don’t look at me like that,” Jaehyun says when he catches the doubting look on your face.

And it’s only because this man in bed with you knows how to heap on the praise that you agree and straddle him. He touches your thighs again, his fingers dipping higher, in between your legs, stroking two fingers against your wetness, slipping them inside you just for a moment.

Jaehyun watches you with a smirk on his face as you start riding his fingers, your wetness dripping down his fingers. “You need me right now, don’t you?”

You nod and grip his wrist, thrusting down on his fingers.

It’s definitely odd feeling your daughter moving inside your womb while you’re in a very sexual encounter, to know that she’s feeling the basics of the emotions you’re feeling--the excitement, your racing heartbeat, the pure enjoyment of what Jaehyun’s doing--but you don’t plan to stop. Not when Jaehyun pulls his fingers out to circle them at your clit. Certainly not when his cock is hovering heavy and pink against his abdomen, and not when you position him between your legs with his fingers still stimulating your clit.

You sink down on him, and for all the teasing he’s done to you, it’s a bit of a surprise when Jaehyun’s eyes flutter shut and he bites his bottom lip to stifle the moan of pleasure as your warm walls wrap around his cock. You have to remember that for months now, while you’ve abstained from Jaehyun’s cock finding orgasms in the others, Jaehyun’s had nothing but his hand and memories of you.

“Do I feel good, Jae?” You ask, sinking down on him until you feel so full, and you rest your hands on his abs, grazing your nails lightly over the flexed muscles. “Have you missed me?”

“So much, princess. Fuuuck.” His hands move to your hips, trying to get you moving on him, though at the moment you’re thoroughly enjoying just sitting on him like this. Perhaps this would be the moment to practice your kegels again, clenching your pussy tight around him.

Jaehyun swears at you, lifting his hips, trying to get deeper inside you, to get you moving on top of him. You oblige.

You love the way a flush rises on Jaehyun’s skin, the way that his eyes are dark with ravenous hunger for your body as you ride him, rolling your hips and thrusting down on his cock and circling your hips.

Jaehyun’s hands are everywhere. He’s always loved your ass, but now he pays close attention to your tits too, cupping them in his hands, leaning up to place tiny kisses around your nipple. And then of course there’s your big baby bump. Jaehyun strokes and just holds his hands against it, and you can’t help touching too.

You’ve clearly got your baby excited too. She’s kicking and moving, worked up from the excitement you two are experiencing. You can tell that Jaehyun loves the pure intimacy of a moment like this, just you and him and your baby and all this raw emotion and the physical aspect of this.

It’s moments like this when you’ve got Jaehyun like this that you want him to be the father more than anything else. He wants it so badly. You’ve known that since the first time you had sex with him that he wanted a baby. Hell, you knew it before that. On one of your first dates with him, Jaehyun kept waving and making silly faces at a toddler who was clinging to his mom’s leg nearby, and after they’d left, Jaehyun hadn’t been able to wipe the smile off his face, which had led to a discussion about how he thinks that if he hadn’t followed his path into the idol life he’d probably have already settled down and started a family.

You want this to be it for Jaehyun. Sure, he’s said that he’ll be here no matter if he’s the biological father or not. But you know it’ll break his heart if he’s not the biological father, that he just wants so badly to have it be him, to have this little girl be part you and part Jaehyun, to give her his surname.

And as he cums inside you now, his orgasm unleashing powerfully for the first time in months, you feel the heart-breaking realization that Jaehyun may very well not be the father.

There are some afternoons when you get off of work, and you just can’t go home and sit around there. You want to do something, see something different, and as you’ve gotten more obviously pregnant and with winter being in its depths at the moment, you rarely do more than commute to work and commute to home.

So on one particular chilly, gray, snowy day, you walk out of work and decide that you’re going to go visit your boyfriends.

Several of them are at the dance studio, so that’s where you go.

You didn’t check in with any of them before coming, but it’s rarely ever a problem for you to show up at the practice studio.

But of course, this time, you walk through the door of the room they’re in, and immediately three staff members turn to face you, and there are a few of the boys, but it’s only Jungwoo and Doyoung that look up from what they’re doing, and you freeze. They’re doing a VLive.

Doyoung starts to smile, then looks back down at his phone where he was reading something. Jungwoo starts making a face at you until Kun gently puts his hand on Jungwoo’s thigh, pulling his attention back to the live.

Recently they added two new members, neither of which you know very well, but Shotaro and Sungchan seem really great, like they’ll fit into your little family perfectly, but as they don’t live at the house with the rest of the members, you haven’t had the chance to get to know them. Both of them are there as well, squashed in on the back of the sofa between Lucas and Yuta.

Just a week ago when you asked Yuta about the two of them and what they knew of you, Yuta just shrugged and said, “It’s kinda like what we’ve told the staff. That you’re dating one of us, that you’re pregnant, that we’ve all agreed to keep it a secret which one of us you’re dating because then any rumor that leaks won’t have anything really solid to it.” So that’s how it stood.

But now, standing here just inside the doorway of the practice room while the staff members look at you, while Sungchan and Shotaro keep glancing your way curiously, you think maybe you shouldn’t have come. Especially not unannounced.

You move to the side and ease yourself down to sit on the floor beside their manager who didn’t look up when you walked in. She’s the friendliest, the one that helped with the gender reveal cake, who is probably one of their only staff members to know the true nature of this relationship you’ve got with the boys. You trust her, and they all do, which is why she knows because she won’t spill the secrets to sasaengs and gossip sites.

They wrap up the live about ten minutes later, waving goodbye and blaming the need for a few of them to go meet up for a special practice. Once it’s over, the live shut off, and the phone used for the live tucked safely out of sight, everyone disperses.

Doyoung, Jungwoo, and Kun come over to you right away. Yuta walks to the other side of the room, talking in rapid Japanese with Shotaro. Sungchan disappears, and Lucas remains sitting on the sofa, tapping at his phone and smiling at whatever he’s looking at.

Now that you can talk without fear of it being picked up on the livestream’s audio, their manager starts asking you about the pregnancy, how far are you exactly, when’s the due date, are the boys being good to you? To which you answer her: 28 weeks, mid-April, and usually.

“Hey, we’re pretty good to you!” Jungwoo protests. “Who was it that helped you with your swollen feet and your back, hmm?”

“And who woke up the other night to make some insomnia snacks for you?” Doyoung asks, gesturing at himself and Kun. To be fair, Kun had already been up and in the process of grabbing a snack from the kitchen (you’d already drained his snack drawer supplies), so he and Doyoung had worked together to satisfy your cravings even though Doyoung was half asleep most of the time, just standing there nodding off beside you while Kun cooked. But he’d made for a very nice shoulder for you to rest your head on, and he’d smelled like clean detergent when you’d buried your nose in the shoulder of his hoodie.

You roll your eyes at them. “Yes, they’re all really good to me. Don’t you all need to practice, or something?”

“Soon,” Kun tells you. “We’re just waiting for the last few members to get here.”

Johnny, WinWin, and Taeyong walk in soon after, and the set of members to practice have all arrived.

You’re not surprised that when your boyfriends leave you to go start the practice that Johnny and Jungwoo both take off their shirts, though you are quite impressed. Jungwoo’s really not usually so flashy with his body, but he’d recently told you that the company wanted to make his image more manly and powerful, like Johnny and Jaehyun. Thus, the long stretch of toned muscles and tight abs that you see reflected in the wall of mirrors.

You love watching the boys dance, seeing them put all of their focus and determination into it. You don’t know how many times you’ve sat in these rooms with them, watching them put in the hours, losing themselves in the music.

You hope your daughter is a dancer, that whichever of them is the father she inherits part of his talent, whether it’s the dancing or the singing or rapping, the visuals or acting ability or humor. You hope she has star quality like every one of her fathers.

You’re sitting there caressing your belly, daydreaming about her while watching them, listening to Doyoung just start belting out his part of the song, when she moves--a big stretch suddenly, causing you to gasp.

WinWin looks over at you, nearly stumbling over Kun and Johnny who’ve also twisted their heads around to see why you’ve gasped.

“I’m fine.” You wave at them to get back to practice, but the choreography was destroyed by the stumbles, and they’ve been at it for a while by this point, so they call a water break.

WinWin drops down in front of you, folding his limbs just-so so that he can sit close to you and put his hands on your belly, feeling her trying to get comfortable. “She wants to dance too, I think,” he says with a soft smile. “I was dreaming about the baby last night. You were holding her and she was a few months old, laughing, smiling, and she held my finger so tightly I could still feel it when I woke up. And then I was holding her too, dancing Take Off choreography and she was just laughing.” He looks up at you, his eyes aglow.

You put a hand on his head, petting his hair flat where it’s standing up awkwardly on top. “I just want you to know, if you ever decide to dance to your intense choreographies with my newborn daughter in your arms, I will kill you.”

WinWin laughs. “It was just a dream! I would never.”

You look up from his sweet smiling face to see Sungchan standing a few feet away, looking at the two of you, at WinWin’s hands on your belly. “Do you want to feel, Sungchan? She’s moving.”

“Oh, I.... are you sure?”

“Yes.” You laugh. WinWin moves back, opening up space for Sungchan, who hesitantly sits down too. He lets you guide his hand to where you can feel her.

“That’s.... interesting.” Sungchan looks down at his hand on your belly, like he’s puzzled as he feels you baby move just a little bit. “Weird. No offense.”

“None taken. It’s definitely weird.” She moves again, and you groan. “Alright. She’s sitting right on my bladder now. I need to get up.”

WinWin hurries to his feet, reaching down to help you up, which is quite an ordeal because you’ve been sitting there on the floor for a while. You probably shouldn’t have sat on the floor in the first place, and now as you have not one, not two, but a third boyfriend come over to help you gently to your feet, you feel utterly embarrassed.

WinWin, Doyoung, and Taeyong all three end up helping you safely to your feet. Taeyong even tags along with you as you walk from the room in search of the restroom, keeping his hand on your lower back tenderly.

You’re not helpless, you want to remind him that. You just needed a bit of aid getting up off the floor, which even he needs help with sometimes.

“I’m fine, Taeyong. I promise.” You turn as he tries to follow you through the door of the restroom. “I don’t need help in here.” You curl a hand around the back of his neck and press forward on your toes to kiss him quick, praying no one is around to see and start rumors. “I’ll be right out.”

Taeyong’s still standing there when you emerge a few moments later, and you can tell from the way he’s looking at you that he wants another kiss, wants more than a kiss. But you can’t right then. He needs to get back in to the practice room, not sneak away with you to have a quick romp in a closet at SM Entertainment, which you’re not even sure seems like a good idea with you being this pregnant.

As you’re both walking back into the room, Lucas walks up from the opposite direction, still buried in his phone, and when he looks up and sees you, he grins. It’s a loose, easy smile, and he puts his phone away to come closer, rubbing your belly.

“For luck,” he tells you.

The practice ends hours later by which point you think even you could follow along to the choreography if you weren’t 7 months pregnant. And because you are 7 months pregnant and hungry, you beg them to feed you as you’re all leaving to head home.

Taeyong has to go to the studio and Kun’s going with him to collaborate on a project together, so they’re both out, waving goodbye as they head their own way.

“I’ll go with you to get food,” Lucas tells you. “I’ve been wanting to be alone with you.”

So the others head home, and you and Lucas grab a taxi to a restaurant that Lucas likes.

You’re glad it was Lucas who volunteered to take you to get food. Lately it seems you haven’t spent a lot of time together, which he’s been busy recording and practicing, doing photo shoots for the group and solo shoots also since he’s so handsome. But also several of the guys have been trying to keep you all to themselves. And when you do get the chance to be with Lucas, you just keep thinking about what you heard Mark and Jaehyun talking about, thinking about what you and Lucas talked about that day you went on a picnic date.

So things have been a bit awkward between the two of you over the last month especially.

Dinner is good. The food and Lucas’s company. Both of you laugh as you eat, tucked away in a back corner of the restaurant. But occasionally you notice him going randomly quiet and picking at his food, sinking into his thoughts, and that makes you nervous, so you ask him about it.

Lucas shakes his head. “Just nervous for the comeback.” He shoves a piece of meat into his mouth. “And I’ve just had a little cold lately. Don’t worry, babe.”

So you don’t worry. Several of the guys have been dealing with mild colds lately, and you’ve been downing vitamins and healthy foods, wearing a mask to keep yourself from getting sick too when you’re around the boys.

As you stand together outside the restaurant, waiting for the taxi to come take you back to the house, Lucas holds your hands in one of his large ones, keeping your fingers warm in the chilly night. And he looks at you and looks at you. You can feel his gaze burning against the side of your face, and when you finally look at him too, Lucas doesn’t look away.

“What?” You ask, unable to hide a smile. “Do I have something on my face or something?”

Lucas shakes his head, his expression so serious on his handsome face. “No, I’m just looking at you.”

He looks like there’s more he’s going to say, but at that moment the taxi pulls up, and you drag Lucas into the warm car’s backseat.

“How was work?” Mark asks, rubbing his hand soothingly down your back.

You’re sitting at the kitchen table, freshly showered, just waiting for the dinner you’re making to finish up, and Mark’s just walked down from his room.

“Work was... work. I’m heavily pregnant, tired.” You drop your head onto his shoulder. “I had a stranger try to touch my belly today when I went to lunch. That was horrible.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” Mark kisses your head. “Want me to do anything to make you feel better?”

You shake your head. “I’m just going to eat dinner, then lay in bed until I fall asleep. Spend some quality alone time before I never get it anymore.” You pat your belly.

Mark strokes your head, “I can finish making dinner for you. Relax.”

“She wants to eat sometime tonight, Mark. Preferably without being poisoned.” Taeyong strides into the room. He pauses at your chair to drop a kiss to your cheek, then moves on to the stove. “I can finish it. Mark’s right, you need to put your feet up, relax.”

So you do just that while Taeyong putters around the kitchen, cooking, improving upon the meal you’d already begun making, and soon he sits the meal down in front of you, ducks his head to kiss your belly, and tells your baby, “Eat well, little angel.” And then he lifts his head to kiss you. “Enjoy, my love.”

The dinner is quite delicious and filling, so by the time you’ve finished, you’re in the perfect state to just climb up the ridiculous amount of stairs to your bedroom and then sit in bed and watch videos. You put on your comfy clothes to sleep in, and settle back against your pillows, put on a Netflix show you’ve been trying to watch that none of your boyfriends have much interest in.

Probably somewhere in the second episode you’re watching, there’s a soft knock on your door.

“Come in!” You call out.

Lucas pops his head inside, looks around the room, then asks, “Hey, can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course.” You scoot aside on your bed, making room for him. “What’s up?”

Lucas has his phone in his hands, twisting it around, tapping his fingers on it. He sighs, a deep heavy sound. “I need to talk to you about something.”

And your heart sinks.

Your shoulders go tense, and you look up at his face even as you truly want to look anywhere else. “Okay.”

Lucas sits gingerly beside you, perched just on the edge of the bed so he’s in no way crowding you. “I’ve been thinking for a little while, trying to really, really think about stuff, and when you asked me the other night at dinner what was wrong, I just didn’t really know yet, but what I said to you is true. I was recovering from a cold and I’ve been nervous about the comeback, but there’s more too.”

He rubs his hand over the back of his head, looking down at his feet, and you just watch him. Your mouth feels dry, your heart pounds.

“What is it?” Your voice sounds hoarse.

The silence that fills the room them is unbearably loud, static in your ears.

“I think we should break up,” Lucas mumbles.

“Why?” You ask, your voice quiet.

You wish you could say that you didn’t see this coming or that you saw it coming from a long way off. But honestly you’d been afraid that this was coming, hoping that it wasn’t. Ever since you found out that you were really pregnant, this fear has been lingering in the back of your mind; not this specific fear that Lucas would break up with you, just that one of them would--that he wouldn’t want to be a father, that it would all finally grow to be too much for him.

“It’s not you.” Lucas puts his hand on your leg.

You roll your eyes and look away because you can feel hot tears tingling their way to the surface.

“I swear. It’s not you, it’s not the baby.” He squeezes your leg in a way that’s probably meant to be reassuring. “We already knew that this relationship would be tough, even before any of us knew about her. We knew that keeping this going with all of us just isn’t realistic, that things are going to happen in the future, that feelings might go away.”

You turn quickly to face him, your eyes burning, and when you blink, the tears begin to fall. “Is that why you want to break up? The feelings just went away?” You can’t help feeling angry and upset, so the words come out with a bite behind them.

Lucas shakes his head quickly. “No, no, not really. I still love you, of course I do. Maybe the feelings going away isn’t the right way to say that. The feelings have changed. I love you still. I’ll always love you, but now I think it’s more of a best friends and confidants kind of love. And I met someone, I like her too. I thought we were just supposed to be friends, but we’ve been talking more, and that’s what I meant a few minutes ago, about me thinking a lot recently. Because as she and I have been talking, I started realizing I really like talking to her. She’s funny and smart, and that’s not to say that you aren’t those things, but no offense at all, please, but sometimes it feels like I get a little lost in this relationship, and it’s so much easier to just be with one person, especially when I feel like that person fits me really well.”

You bite at your bottom lip, trying to hold in the tears, but you can’t help sniffling. “I know you’re right. It’s better to end things before you really start anything with someone else. Does she know how you feel?”

Lucas shakes his head. “No, and, uh, please don’t be mad. But it’s your friend Chaerin.”

Instantly you think back, remembering how it’s been your friend Chaerin who was fawning over Lucas that first time that they all met the boys; it was her that spent most of the New Years Eve party talking with him. He’s her type too.

“We exchanged numbers on New Years Eve,” Lucas tells you as if he can see the wheels turning in your head. “She said she just wanted one of our numbers to be able to check in on how you were doing without having to ask you all the time because she wanted an honest opinion. She said she thought you might just tell her what you thought she wanted to hear, which, honestly, you know you would’ve.” Lucas reaches up to wipe away one of your escaped tears. “At first we did only talk about you.”

You so badly want to be angry. He’s your boyfriend. She’s one of your best friends. What business do they have getting to know each other better?

But she doesn’t know about this between you and Lucas. She doesn’t know that he’s totally off limits. How would she know when you’ve kept all of this a secret from all of your friends? And Lucas is right, it’s not like you’ve given him all of the attention that he deserves when you’re in a relationship with him and thirteen others.

“But we started talking more and joking around, and I like her. I’m sorry.” Lucas ducks his head. “I tried telling myself I’m being ridiculous, but I just....”

Now it’s your turn to put a hand over his, squeezing reassuringly. “Don’t feel bad, Lucas. I should’ve known this was coming. You already told me that you’re not sure about this whole fatherhood thing, and this relationship is complicated, and if you fall in love with someone else, well, I just want you to be happy.”

He looks up, eyes brightening and a smile blooming on his lips. “Really?”

You nod slowly. “Yes, really. Did you think I’d scream and argue, tell you that you can’t break up with me or something?” He laughs and shakes his head no. “But, Lucas, I think you should tell her about us, about the chance that this baby could be yours.” You put a hand on your belly, and his eyes follow that motion.

“Of course. And if she is my daughter, I swear, I’ll still take care of you and her, just like I promised. Even with us not... with us not being together anymore.” He swallows, and his face once more takes on a somber, apologetic expression. “I’m sorry. I hate doing this.”

You hate it too, and it hurts, of course it does. But you’d much rather that Lucas end it now than both of you face possibly months of unhappiness, it ending in a huge blowout fight or something.

“Now I can go beg comfort cuddles from one of the others.” You shrug, then reach for his hand, holding onto it. “I want you to be happy, just the same for any of you. If they’re not happy in this relationship, none of them have to stay, I won’t hold it against anyone. I won’t hold it against you.”

Lucas sits with you for a while more, still trying to comfort you and apologize for ending things, to which each time you tell him to shut up. When he leaves, you wait a few moments and then walk to the door, peeking out to see if any of the others are around.

You don’t see any of them wandering around, but Mark and Taeil are laughing in their room down the hall, so you walk over there.

When you walk in you see Mark lying on his stomach on the floor, watching videos on his phone, while Taeil’s sitting wrapped up in a blanket on his bed, his hood pulled up over his hair, and he smiles when you come right over to him. But it’s when you just lay down and immediately snuggle as close to him as your belly will allow, hiding your face against his chest, that Taeil clears his throat.

“Is something wrong?” He asks, bringing one hand up to pet your hair and the other to rest on your belly.

“Lucas broke up with me,” you tell them.

“What?!” There’s the sound of Mark’s phone hitting the floor, and by the time you roll over to see him, he’s already picked it back up and he’s sitting up. He asks again, “Lucas did what?”

You sigh and put your head back on Taeil’s chest. “He broke up with me. Me and the baby need cuddles.”

Taeil’s already fulfilling that, but Mark wastes no time getting up off the floor and trying to squeeze into Taeil’s bed even though that leaves him right on the edge of it.

“Did he say why?” Taeil keeps his voice soft, his touches tender.

“He just doesn’t feel the same anymore.” You can feel the tears starting to rise and burn again. Mark kisses the back of your neck. “And he’s started getting feelings for someone else. One of my friends. Chaerin.”

Mark bristles. “What a dick move. Do you want me to go talk to him?”

“No, Mark.” You rub your cheek against Taeil’s sweatshirt, leaving a big dark tear stain. “It’s fine, really. I understand, and I want him to be happy, but it still sucks.”

“It does.” Taeil kisses your forehead. “If you want to cry, baby, you can just cry. We won’t judge you.” He cups your cheek, hiding your face more against his chest.

Mark kisses the cap of your shoulder again, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your belly. Their tenderness just breaks something in you, and you let the tears go, sobbing into Taeil’s chest while both he and Mark hold you. After a while you can tell that Taeil’s crying too, and your baby is moving, but even that can’t bring you delight right now.

Yuta finds the three of you just like that when he comes into the room a little over an hour later.

“Oooh, what’s this?” He asks, his tone light and excited as he climbs onto the bed too, careful of you as he straddles Mark and bends over to kiss your belly. And then he sees Taeil (who has stopped crying with you) and sees your face with the tears and the wet sweatshirt under your cheek, and he gets serious immediately. “What’s wrong?”

“Lucas broke up with her.” Taeil explains, stroking his fingers over the back of your head as you hiccup and hide your face against his chest again. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve got this.”

Yuta frowns and folds his arms. “What do you mean, you’ve got this? You think I’m just going to go sit over there on my bed and pretend like she’s not laying here heartbroken and crying? No. Mark, you’re not really doing anything, you’ve had your turn, go to your bed. It’s my turn to cuddle her.”

You feel the hitch as Mark opens his mouth to respond, but something else makes him hesitate, and then he’s moving. Yuta quickly fills in the space, whispering to you words that only you and Taeil can hear, sweet comforting words. You don’t even hear Mark leave the room.

But you do hear the argument start about five minutes late downstairs. Yuta swears under his breath and says, “I’ll take care of this.”

And then it’s just you snuggled up to Taeil, his lips on your forehead, a hand on your belly, another in your hair.

The volume of the argument rises and you hear Yuta’s voice joining in, then Yuta and Mark climbing the stairs, now arguing with each other. They stop outside the door, and Yuta shushes Mark with a harsh, “Do you really fucking think that she wants you to do that, Mark? You think she wants you to pick a fight with Lucas? Lucas? He could crush you with no problem if he wanted to, and you’re going to pick a fight with him? Don’t you think that might upset her even more if you got hurt, dumbass?”

Mark mumbles something that you can’t quite catch.

“Yeah, now shut up, be good, and go to bed.” Yuta demands, and the door of the room opens.

Mark slumps into the room, and he climbs into his bed, pulls the sheets up over himself, and then the room goes quiet. Yuta doesn’t say anything else either, just snuggles right in behind you again, his body warm and protective against your back.

By the morning after the breakup everyone seemed to know about it. All of the boys, including the younger boys, were being careful and almost overly affectionate with you. Lucas was keeping his distance, trying to keep out of sight of you. You couldn’t decide if that was because of his own choice or due to something Mark had said to him the night before.

Either way, it was a week later before you heard from your friend Chaerin. She sent you just a simple to-the-point text: “oh my god I swear I didn’t know about you and Lucas. I wouldn’t have ever flirted with him if I’d known!”

So you know Lucas has talked to her.

“Yeah, it’s fine, really. We broke up, and I just want him to be happy.”

“When he told me I freaked out!” She types, “And then when he said that there’s a chance the baby might be his I wasn’t so sure about this, like I don’t want to totally piss you off and ruin our friendship”

“Really Chae, it’s fine. I don’t know what all he told you about us, but it wasn’t just me and him in the relationship, so I’ve still got my support in this relationship. Like I said, I just want him to be happy, and he seems like he really like you. I hope his history with me and the chance of the baby being his doesn’t scare you off.”

And it takes a while before you get her response: “it totally doesn’t, I really really like him :)”

And later that day you seek Lucas out, needing to actually talk to him for the first time since the breakup. You both agree to keep things normal, friendly, between you.

“Well,” Lucas smiles at the suggestion. “As normal as we can be when we’ve fucked as many times as we have, when you’re pregnant with a baby that might be mine, and when you’ve pissed on me sexually.” That last comment earns him a punch in the arm, which he good-naturedly pretends actually hurt him.

Things are good then. Normal as they can be, though it’s still strange to have lost an element of your relationship, to still have him so strongly in your life, but his heart’s not yours anymore. Chaerin’s got him now.

So almost two weeks after the breakup, when it comes time for the baby shower hosted by your mother, your friends and a few coworkers are in attendance. Chaerin is there too, awkward at first, but after a while she’s back to normal, especially as you’d not treated her any differently. You can’t be mad at her; you tried the anger thing but it just didn’t work. You wanted Lucas to be happy and her to be happy too, and as long as you’d known Lucas he’d been a man of his word, so you trusted that if your daughter shares his DNA, he’ll act as her father should.

You celebrate the shower as if you’re a single mother, and somehow your mother goes along with that. Neither her, nor Chaerin, nor your other friend who knows that at least two of the guys are potentially the father, lets on to any of the other attendees that they know who the father is.

Chaerin even comes with you to take all of your gifts back to the house, unbeknownst to anyone else at the house.

So when she walks in, Lucas is sitting on the sofa, laughing with Jeno and Xiaojun. He’s shirtless, his hair an absolute disaster from sleep, and he’s drinking a smoothie which clings to his upper lip as he pulls the glass away. And then he sees you and Chaerin framed in the doorway, and he starts grinning like a fool, an embarrassed fool at that.

“Hi, Chae.”

Your heart sinks a little when you remember that even as adorable as Lucas looks right then, it’s not you who should be admiring him like that. It’s not you that he’s smiling at.

Chae blushes and smiles and sits down the gifts that she carried inside before she walks closer to talk with him. Xiaojun and Jeno both look surprised, glancing between you and Lucas and Chaerin. But you put on your happiest face, and you recruit them to help you carry the gifts upstairs to your room.

“That’s the girl that he broke up with you for?” Jeno asks in a low, incredulous voice as soon as you’re all three inside your room. “She’s your friend, isn’t she?”

You shrug. “Yeah, that’s how they met each other. Listen, it sucks. I’ve said that before, but I just want them to be happy.”

Jeno mumbles something about “bullshit,” and Xiaojun just sighs and walks closer, wrapping his arms around you, his lips brushing your shoulder. “Do you want some help organizing this stuff? You don’t really need to be walking up and down the stairs so much, you know?”

Jeno leaves the room quietly.

“If you want to stay, Dejun.” You look at the piled gifts, mostly just baby clothes and toys and a few other things. Chaerin and your mother had helped you organize them into baskets or bags, so the larger items were still down in Chae’s car, but you figure she and Lucas and maybe Jeno too could help bring those in.

“Of course I want to stay.” Xiaojun sits down in front of the pile of gifts while you groan as you ease down into the rocking chair in the corner of the room. “Or are you tired? If you want to nap, just tell me to fuck off.”

You shake your head as Xiaojun looks up at you with his soft puppy dog eyes. You tell him, “I don’t want you to go anywhere.”

“Do you want me to sing to her?” He asks. “I’ve heard that singing to a baby makes them happier, makes them smarter, stuff like that.”

Before you even tell him yes or no, Xiaojun’s already crawling the few feet across the floor to you. He folds his legs and sits right in front of you, one hand caressing your belly, and he leans closer, his lips only inches from your belly as he sings. You don’t know the words to the song but it’s nice, and you think she must be listening because she starts moving, stretching and rolling over.

By this point in your pregnancy, thirty-one weeks along, it’s all starting to feel like a bit of a tight fit. She’s digging into organs, pushing her little hands and feet against the swell of your belly, making your body look like an alien is trying to break out of you. And you sometimes feel like a bit of an alien in your own skin--the stretchmarks, some weird rashes, the aches and pains, trouble sleeping, housing another human life inside of you--it’s all a bit much at times and you miss your body from before.

You worry that you disgust some of your boyfriends because you look like this. A particularly nasty voice in the back of your mind whispers that your pregnancy and how it’s affected your appearance is the reason Lucas broke up with you.

But you know, deep down, that that’s not it. You know that Lucas’s feelings for you just changed and you know that you don’t disgust the others. Jungwoo and Jaehyun have both expressed their delight and pleasure at seeing your body like this. Johnny just a week ago praised your body when he woke you up and ate you out before fucking you fully awake, telling you that you deserve to feel good too, putting in all this work and looking so sexy while doing it.

Xiaojun’s still quietly singing to your belly when the door opens and WinWin peeks his head inside. And then you see Doyoung just behind him, and both of them come inside, closing the door behind them.

“Is that her?” Doyoung asks, gesturing back toward the door, toward the living room downstairs. “That’s your friend?”

Xiaojun glares at Doyoung, pausing his singing, irritated that Doyoung’s bringing up what you’re clearly trying to avoid thinking about. WinWin also knocks his fist into Doyoung’s arm before he comes farther inside your room, sitting on the edge of your bed.

“You’re much prettier,” Doyoung blurts out. “So much prettier, and I talked with her when she was here for the gender reveal party, and you’re a million times smarter and more interesting.”

“Thanks for attempting to flatter me, Doyoung.” You sigh, rubbing a hand over your belly. “But I’m sure those are just pretty words. I’m absolutely enormous and swollen and my belly has all these stretchmarks and stuff, so I doubt that Chaerin is less pretty than me right now. Or ever, really. She’s gorgeous, don’t try to lie about that just to make me feel better.”

WinWin rolls his eyes. “Obviously she’s pretty. Lucas is a narcissist, visual-obsessed guy, so he’s not going to want to be with someone who’s not just as good looking as himself. Which is complimentary to you and Chaerin. But also, love, you’re not any less gorgeous now than you were before the pregnancy. Stop putting yourself down.”

Chastised, you look down at your hand on your belly. Xiaojun is still sitting on the floor at your feet, and he ducks his head a little, trying to catch your eye.

When he succeeds, he gives you a little smile. “You’re beautiful, glowing. Why do you think you aren’t?”

“I just told you,” you mumble, “A big round belly like this, the swelling, stretchmarks, among the other unattractive side effects.”

You blush as you remember a few days ago when you could hold in some gas, and let it go to your extreme embarrassment. The younger boys that had been around you at the time had burst into laughter until Jungwoo walloped Jisung on the arm and told him to shut up.

“Besides,” you refuse to look any of them in the eye as you say, “Hardly any of you touch me anymore. I don’t think I’ve had any sexual contact with you, Doyoung, since before we found out I was pregnant. Same with you, WinWin.”

WinWin opens his mouth, then pauses to think about it. He frowns. “It wasn’t intentional. But I think you’re right. If anything it’s a subconscious thing about not wanting to hurt the baby. It’s absolutely not me finding you unattractive. You’re still incredibly sexy.”

“You won’t hurt the baby.” Xiaojun stands up, looking quite assertive. “Have you not heard any of the others talk about it? Do you not know that your dick can’t get to where the baby is? The baby will be fine. At this point, the biggest worry about having sex is triggering her into early labor.”

Just the thought of that happening makes you feel sick. Not that you’ve admitted it to anyone but you’re still scared of what’s going to happen when you actually go into labor.

Doyoung clears his throat. “I heard Jungwoo say he and Hendery both fucked you together, but that was a few months ago.”

“Yeah,” you huff. “And it’s been months since I got anything from you or WinWin. Do you think I haven’t missed having you two? Have you not missed me? What’ve you been up to?”

Doyoung flexes his hand, but doesn’t say anything. WinWin just laughs.

“So you’d rather just fuck your hand than your girlfriend, I get it.” You try to stand up from the rocking chair, but nearly fall back into it. Doyoung steps forward, gripping onto your arm to stabilize you. “Just say you don’t want me. Break up with me like Lucas.”

The look Doyoung gives you then is indescribable--some mix between fury and annoyance and sadness and something else.

And then he’s kissing you, pouring all of those emotions and more into it. You haven’t been kissed like this in months. Kissed with a burning passion that sets you whole body alight, that takes you from one mood all the way to horny in an instant. Horny, hungry, craving more and more and more.

“We can just leave.” Xiaojun’s already backing toward the door, but WinWin sits frozen on your bed.

“Stay, i don’t care.” Doyoung mumbles, barely pulling his mouth away from yours to answer.

You want to stay right there, kissing Doyoung, but you know where this is heading or at least where you want it to head, and with all the blood rushing south, another need arises.

You put a hand to Doyoung’s neck, lingering in the kiss for just a moment longer before you press your hand gently to his shoulder. Your lips feel absolutely gross from a mess of lip gloss you’d worn to the baby shower earlier now smeared across your lips, but you tell Doyoung. “I’ll be right back.” And to the other two you point at your bed and tell them, “Stay here too.”

Xiaojun nods and takes a seat on the bed beside WinWin. Doyoung falls back onto it too. All three watch you walk away into your bathroom and close the door behind you.

As soon as the door’s shut, you hear WinWin groan. “I haven’t done this in months. God, I feel like it won’t last long.”

Doyoung snorts an amused laugh. “I’m the same, though.”

You smile to yourself and walk over to the sink, splashing water on your face, wiping at the tackiness of the lipgloss.

You take your time in there, peeing, freshening yourself up just a bit, and when you feel nice and all good about yourself, that’s when you open the door and step back out into your bedroom.

All three of them are still seated on your bed in a row of shirtless, awe-faced men.

Doyoung’s rubbing his lips together, and when his eyes drink in the sight of you framed in the bathroom doorway, he licks his lips.

WinWin’s mouth forms a round O.

Xiaojun just bunches his hands up at the his knees. “You look really, really fucking good.” He can’t take his eyes off of you, his face tinged a bit with the honestly of his statement.

You’re wearing only a bathrobe and panties. The robe hangs open around your belly, covering just your breasts. Your hair is loose around your face, and as you step into the room, you feel the confidence inside you swell. The way they’re all three looking at you is the same as they’ve always looked at you, which makes you feel so good now when you’ve gained the weight and have all of your new body bared to them like this.

“I can taste your lipgloss, darling.” Doyoung rubs his lips together again, unable to look away from you. “So sweet, makes me just want to taste you.” His gaze drops down to your belly, to the peek of your panties just underneath. “Can I?”

WinWin makes a short noise as you walk towards them, and when you tear your gaze away from Doyoung’s hungry expression to look at WinWin, he’s palming himself through his pants. Xiaojun’s still just clutching at his knees, looking like he’s really trying to hold himself in check before he breaks and fucks you.

You love it, and absolutely need to feel it.

Doyoung pushes off the bed, falling to his knees smoothly in front of you. His fingers tuck inside the band of your panties, lips brushing your belly, and then he drags the panties down your thighs, following the trail with his lips. His fingers caress the back of your calves as you step out of the panties, and then Doyoung tips his head back to look up at you, his eyes dark and lustful, as he tells you, “Sit on the bed.”

You step around him, sitting on the bed in between Xiaojun and WinWin.

“Darling.” Doyoung moans, kneeling between your knees, putting his hands on your knees to spread them farther apart. “You want me to eat you out, sweetheart?”

You slide a hand over each of your other boyfriends’ thighs, nodding down at Doyoung, already sucking in a sharp breath as he kisses and nips lightly up nearer to your pussy. “Doyoung, please,” you sigh, and you slump sideways against Xiaojun who drapes his arms protectively around you. You let out an unrestrained moan when you feel the wet heat of Doyoung’s mouth on you, licking against your pussy, getting you wetter than you already are.

“So noisy,” WinWin tuts, and then his fingers are touching your lips, tracing the outline of your mouth, and then his fingertips are on your tongue and you instinctively latch onto them, sucking and pushing to take more of his fingers deeper inside your mouth. “Oh, fuck,” WinWin moans, spreading his fingers slightly. “You want something in your mouth too, princess, while Doyoung’s taking care of you?”

Doyoung moans softly, his lips around your clit, and a finger entering you.

You squirm, moaning, trying to nod your affirmative desire to have what WinWin’s talking about. You miss blowing your boyfriends, having sex with multiple partners. This foursome is exactly what you’ve been needing for months now.

Xiaojun’s hands move from where they’d been just casually resting, and he now touches your breasts, the robe fallen apart and just barely hanging on your shoulders. Your tits weigh in his hands, and he plays with them while Doyoung continues to eat your pussy, and WinWin draws his fingers from your mouth to instead cover your lips with his.

WinWin’s hand rests on your belly, rubbing slowly over the top curve of it. It feels so good combined with everything else. And then Doyoung pulls his mouth away from your clit, instead dropping a tender kiss to your belly, his fingers still pressing inside you.

“You taste so sweet,” he moans, and then he ducks his head again, his tongue dancing around where his fingers enter your pussy, catching the wetness that gushes out around his fingers.

You pant and moan, sunken into Xiaojun’s side. His teeth nip at the curve of your shoulder, fingers still pinching and pulling at your nipples, tightening that twist in your belly. WinWin does his best to keep your loud sounds quiet, kissing you or giving you his fingers to suck on.

When you feel Doyoung’s hand bumping rhythmically against your foot as you also begin to feel him humming in pleasure against you, you realize what’s happening.

“Just fuck me, Doyoung.” You sit up, trying to get a clear look at him, but your belly makes that a little more difficult. “Stop touching yourself, I’m ready for you.” His head appears, and Doyoung licks at his glossy pink lips, drawing his fingers from your pussy and slipping them between his lips, his tongue moving explicitly around them.

Xiaojun swears softly, his hands leaving your tits to grope his cock through his shorts.

Doyoung stands, reaching for you again, though this time he’s urging you to move. “On your hands and knees, darling,” he instructs, his hand caressing your thigh, steadying you as you turn over. “This feel alright?”

You feel a little strange like this with the heavy weight of your pregnant belly hanging below you in this position, but good about this. Especially good when Doyoung presses his spit-slicked fingers inside you once again, his thumb now working circles on your clit, just getting you a little more stretched for him.

“Fuck, Doyoung.” You whine, dropping your forehead down onto the sheets. “Stop playing around with me. I’m pregnant and horny and just want you inside me, can’t you give me that?”

He laughs and his hands disappear from your body for an instant in which you hear the sound of clothes falling lightly to the floor. Then the heat of his body is back, right behind you, he rests a hand on your hip, his dick is right there and if you just pushed your hips back you would feel the satisfaction of having him fill you, but Doyoung doesn’t give you the chance to take that role.

He slides right into you with a low moan.

Right beside you, WinWin moans too.

One sideways glance reveals he’s not even touching himself. Just the sight of Doyoung sinking into you, the way you take him so easily, it’s enough to have WinWin aroused to the point that he makes such a pretty sound when he’s so rarely been vocal during sex with you.

Doyoung keeps up a steady pace that has you panting, your pussy fluttering with an approaching orgasm. You don’t expect to last long, and you don’t expect any of these three to last long either. You just hope you have it in you to give all three of them a good time.

And then Xiaojun kneels right in front of your face, the bulge in his pants almost level with your lips already.

“Please, baby, I want to feel your lips.” He touches your hair, pushing it back from your face, while his other hand messes with the fastening of his pants.

You nod, pushing up on your elbows, and Xiaojun shuffles forward on his knees so that when he does unfasten his pants, when his dick pops free of the confines, it swings up to bounce off your lips much to your surprise.

Xiaojun starts to apologize, but you’re already moving, taking him into your mouth without the use of your hands, just suckling at the tip.

It takes you a moment, while you sit there with your eyes closed, wrapped up in the rocking motion of your body while Doyoung thrusts into you and you take more of Xiaojun down your throat, to realize that the hand on your head, the one pushing you ever so slightly farther down on Xiaojun’s cock, is WinWin’s hand. Both of Xiaojun’s are otherwise occupied: one curled on the back of your neck, the other at the base of his erection.

Not wanting WinWin to feel left out, you lift a hand to help him, but he backs away. At the muffled, choked whine that you let out, WinWin chuckles and explains, “No, baby, not yet.”

So you let him push your head down to choke on Xiaojun, alternating between choking on Xiaojun and rocking back on Doyoung.

The swaying and rocking, the knocking of Doyoung inside you. It doesn’t surprise you when you feel a different movement inside you, a stirring of the little life in your belly. Yeah, you wish she would stay asleep while you’re in the middle of having sex, but you’re not surprised. You wouldn’t be able to sleep through all of this either.

You pull off of Xiaojun to gasp and loudly moan when Doyoung changes positions, mounting the bed so that he’s fucking into you at a different angle, now driving his cock right against your G-spot.

“Oh, fuck, fuck!” You cry out, pressing your face against Xiaojun’s thigh. “Doyoung, oh--!”

The orgasm brought on by that direct G-spot stimulation is extreme. You don’t realize just how extreme until you can feel it leaking down your thighs. Whether you’re just squirting or pissing you’re not sure, but Doyoung doesn’t seem to mind either way, still fucking you through it, now just chasing his own high, his breathy desperate moans starting to make themselves known.

You don’t quite have it in you to really blow Xiaojun, so instead you wrap your fingers around him, and jerk him off. His eyes roll back when you carefully drool on his tip, spreading the saliva around with your tongue before bringing your hand up to meet your lips, just sucking lightly at the tip, getting him nice and wet.

When Doyoung suddenly pulls out of you, you try to turn to look at him, but Xiaojun knots his fingers in your hair, pulling your mouth down on him, his hips pushing up, driving his cock to trigger your gag reflex.

And you’re actually pretty disappointed when you don’t get to see Doyoung’s face as he cums. You just hear his moans and feel the hot stripes of his cum between your legs, against your thighs, some getting on your belly. You can feel it dripping down the mound of your belly, down your thighs, soaking against your pussy.

Doyoung presses his cock back inside you, thrusting shallowly a few times until your legs quiver and he can feel a new wetness leaking out of you.

“Pretty. So fucking pretty, darling.” Doyoung compliments as he steps back. You hear his feet touch the floor, and then it’s just his thumb you feel, slick between your legs from the mess of his cum and the wetness of whatever’s come out of you. “And even prettier sucking Xiaojun like that.”

Xiaojun says something in Cantonese, just mumbles it under his breath, rocking his hips against your face.

He’s so close, you know it won’t take much longer.

And then Doyoung’s thumb wanders higher, and he draws it in a circle over your second entrance, applying just the slightest pressure, not necessarily like he’s trying to fit his finger inside your tight ass, just enough that you can feel the pleasurable anticipation of what it would feel like.

You moan around Xiaojun.

Whether Xiaojun meant to cum just from you blowing him, you don’t know. Maybe he intended to just have you keep him hard while he and WinWin waited for Doyoung to finish, either way, it doesn’t matter.

Xiaojun cums on your tongue, halfway out of your mouth, coating your tongue and your lips. You close your lips around his tip, sucking gently, not trying to miss a drop of what he’s giving you.

Doyoung moves away, out of your awareness, but WinWin kneels on the edge of the bed in his place.

Xiaojun grunts when your mouth gets to be too much, his hands press at your shoulders, and you lift up, trying to sit up on your knees. Xiaojun doesn’t let you get far before he’s got a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss and a murmured, “You’re amazing.”

A different pair of hands slide around you; one glides over the small of your back, and the other hand caresses your belly. You shiver, but don’t break the kiss with Xiaojun, not until WinWin reaches up and turns your face to the side with a gentle press of his fingertips to the side of your jaw.

“Me too. Don’t forget about me.” He whines with a tone that sounds like jealousy, and judging by the way he kisses you now, it was jealousy. His body presses right up behind yours, his erection fitting right against your ass, his arms are wrapped around you, hands caressing your belly, your head twisted around to kiss him.

You know you’ve still got Xiaojun’s cum on your chin and around your lips, still have Doyoung’s cum leaking from your pussy, but neither of those things seem to really bother WinWin. Even when his lips come in contact with the stickiness of Xiaojun’s semen, he just kisses you harder, kissing you clean.

He grinds forward, and you press back on him.

His name is a sigh off your lips, “Sicheng.”

He moans, passing his hands over your belly, and then moving back. “Lay down for me, sweetheart.”

You sink down onto your back, rubbing your hands over your belly as you look up at WinWin. Xiaojun slides closer to you, carefully brushing some of your hair back from your face, and then he leans in to kiss you softly.

“Baby, you okay?” Xiaojun asks. You nod without a word, relaxing as WinWin fills the space between your legs again, his thumbs stroking your thighs.

“I’m so good, Junnie.” You moan, trying to lift your hips to WinWin’s touch. “You all are making me feel so good.” On the last word, WinWin spreads your thighs more, lifts your knees up toward your belly as much as he can, and he thrusts smoothly into you.

Xiaojun presses his mouth to yours, but WinWin, in all his gentle jealousy, grinds into you and then strokes his hand up over the mound of your belly, to your sensitive breasts, and then easily shoves Xiaojun’s head away. Xiaojun rolls away with a groan, disappearing from the bed entirely.

“Look at me,” WinWin tells you, his voice soft but commanding.

You do look at him, biting your bottom lip as your body flushes with heat. Your daughter rolls in your belly. You bring your hands to your tits, massaging them as WinWin thrusts into you, a hand still keeping one of your legs lifted, the other is on your belly right near where she just kicked.

“So weird...” WinWin murmurs, still touching your belly. She makes another move, pressing back against your hand. “Feeling her here inside you while we’re having sex.”

“Bit uncomfortable, isn’t it. Awkward.” You laugh a little. “But it’s okay. She doesn’t know what’s happening, it won’t hurt her. It’s just us, Sicheng. And I really, really, really want to make this moment amazing because in a few weeks she’ll be born and who knows how long it’ll be after that before we can have this again.”

“Mm, that’s true.” He ducks his head to place a gentle kiss on your belly. “Guess I’d better savor this. Savor you.”

And then he’s moving again--smooth, deep, slow thrusts, his body dancing with yours. You hold onto him, nails digging into his shoulders, fingertips dragging up his neck, holding his face to yours, kissing him as your bodies move together, the buzz building up under your skin, WinWin starting to make the adorable breathy noises, soft moans just for you.

He cums with a long moan, his mouth leaving yours, dropping down to kiss your throat, moaning “I love you,” still kissing you and moaning and thrusting steadily until you dig your fingers into his hair, holding on as you cum for him too.

WinWin’s not always one for cuddling. Usually he has to be bullied into it when it’s one of the boys trying to curl up with him. You’ve even had to beg him and just lay on top of him in the past. So now when he moves off to the side, then comes right back to rest his hand on your belly, you’re somewhat surprised.

She’s still quite active, like she’s bouncing around in there on a trampoline, so you can’t just lie there for much longer. When you get up to pee you find where Doyoung snuck off to, showering with his back to you, but he finishes up as you’re finishing up, so you both redress and head downstairs again.

The rest of the presents from the shower had been brought inside, and if Chaerin and Lucas were still in the house, they weren’t down there anymore. You sink down on the sofa with Doyoung, kick your feet up, and when Taeyong appears from the kitchen a few moments later with a snack, he sits down right beside you (and you use your belly as a perfect built-in snack table).

You were thirty-five weeks along when it happened.

Over the last week you’ve been sleeping fitfully, unable to get comfortable. You took your chances to sleep when you got them: napping when you got home from work, napping on your lunch break, falling asleep with your head on Hendery’s shoulder as you watched a movie with him.

You were just constantly tired, ready to get this baby out of you, to have your body back to being yours alone, to get to meet her after so long.

Lately your dreams had been a mix of sweet dreams and nightmares. The nightmares often involved labor, complications, terrible things that left you in a panic when you woke, and if you were sleeping alone at the time, then you had to calm yourself down, but a few of your boyfriends had seen you in that state, and it terrified them just as much as it did you.

The sweet dreams were a relief. They also sometimes involved the birth, but it was always easy and in the way that dreams are, it would skip through it so she was there in your arms within moments, a healthy robust baby cooing and smiling up at you. She looked different in every dream, always having a prominent feature that would identify one of her potential fathers.

There was one particularly jarring dream that was somewhere between dream and nightmare, in which you actually gave birth to twins. You’d woken scared, your hands already flying to your belly. Taeil jolted awake beside you, feeling your sudden movement, but you’d soothed your own mind, telling yourself the doctor would definitely have noticed a second baby by now, and you’ve only felt one baby kicking. It was just a dream.

Your mother’s told you that these dreams are just anxiety related to motherhood. She had them too when she was pregnant.

So with only a few weeks left in the pregnancy, you were napping and dreaming and anxious about the reality of giving birth soon, and anxious too about the aftermath of raising your daughter.

On this particular day, you were dozing on the sofa in the living room, drifting in and out of dreams.

When you really wake up, you just stay still for a few moments, keeping your eyes closed. And after a few seconds you’re glad that you did.

You realize there’s a pair of hands on your belly, gently touching, and a soft voice murmurs to your daughter. It takes you a bit to understand who is talking and why you’re not understanding what he’s saying.

Ten.

You listen for a couple minutes, your insides feeling gooey soft and totally loved up at how tender his voice sounds. You open your eyes then, and Ten’s kneeling on the floor, speaking in Thai to your belly, to your daughter.

“What are you saying?” You ask him, reaching to touch his hair.

Ten jumps. “Sorry. I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“You didn’t.” You yawn and stretch your arms up over your head.

Ten watches you quietly and then he stands up. “I was just talking to her. Telling her how much she’ll be loved once she’s out here. Talking names with her.”

“Oh? Did she answer?” You sit up, making room for Ten beside you, and he sits down, letting you tuck yourself against his side. “Because I’ve been thinking of names for months now and I can’t decide. I don’t even know what kind of name I should give her. Korean, Chinese, Japanese. Thai?”

Ten makes a soft noise. “I’ve thought of a few names. Thai names.”

“Can I hear them?”

“Anong. Duangkamol. Lamai. Chanthira.” Ten recites quickly, obviously having had these same names on his mind for a while now to be able to list them for you so quickly. “I maybe have told my mom about this whole situation, that I have a girl in my life who might be pregnant with my baby, and she was excited, maybe over-excited honestly, and sent me a long list of baby names and meanings and asked me all kinds of questions about you. I had to calm her down and remind her that the baby might not even be mine.”

“But she might be yours.” You sigh heavily. “I wish I knew which of you was her biological father. It would make everything so much easier. How are we even going to find out, just wait until she’s older and actually looks like one of you? Or just make each of you get a paternity test, and have the hospital staff then think I’m an absolute slut?”

“You are, but you’re our absolute slut,” Ten teases, giving you a kiss on the top of your head when you glare at him. “And we can probably just get a few of us tested as the father first. Probably Jaehyun, to get his anxiety over if he’s the daddy of his dreams.”

You laugh. “I really hope he doesn’t get pissed if he’s not. I know he keeps saying he won’t be, but....” You rub your belly, then look back up at Ten’s face. “Well, he’s jealous, we all know that about him.”

Ten nods. “He is, but he does love you a helluva lot. Jaehyun reentered this relationship just like all the rest of us, knowing what we were getting into. I think he’s probably a man of his word. If he says he’ll stick by your side even if she’s not biologically his, Jaehyun means it.”

“I hope so.” You sit up, stretch your arms over your head, groaning as your muscles stretch, and then you let out a little “oof” as you feel something like a jab in your belly.

Ten smiles and tries to flick his hair out of his face, but ends up shaking his glasses askew.

You reach forward to adjust them for him. “You’re adorable.”

The moment is broken when the door of the house bursts open. Taeyong comes inside, aiming for the stairs, but when he spots you and Ten on the sofa, he detours toward you. He flops down, dropping his head onto Ten’s shoulder. Ten immediately puts a soothing hand on Taeyong’s hair, stroking and lightly scratching his fingers there.

Taeyong sighs and closes his eyes, and pouts as he says, “I’m so annoyed.”

“Still no good news on the solo?” You ask.

He nods. Ten makes sympathetic noises.

Over the last few weeks, Taeyong had been putting in extra hours in the studio, working on finalizing songs that he wanted to be good enough for his first solo album, something he knows the fans want. Today was a meeting with the powers that be in SM, those that would decide if the songs Taeyong had compiled would be good enough to make an album.

“They said that they were almost good enough.” He sighs again. “I’ve shown several of those songs to fans, to you guys, to my producers I’ve worked on them with. Fans are looking forward to the full-length and studio versions of these songs. I just want to release it.”

“Soon, Yongie.” Ten kisses Taeyong’s forehead. “Why don’t you go take a bath, relax. I have a present for you that I think will help. How’s that sound?”

Taeyong pulls his head back to look at Ten, his gaze suspicious.

“I don’t think I want to know.” You shake your head and stand up, putting a hand under your belly. “I think I’m going to see who wants to go with me to buy some more things for the baby. Taeil distracted me when we went shopping yesterday.”

“More?” Taeyong starts to ask, but as you walk toward the stairs, a strange feeling squeezes your belly, a pain that takes your breath away.

Ten and Taeyong are there in an instant, hands on you, panicked voices calling your name, asking what’s wrong, are you okay? Just as you’ve straightened up and caught your breath to answer them, it happens again, the tight squeeze of your abdomen.

“What do we do?” Ten asks Taeyong, one hand on your back, the other on your arm. Taeyong, looking equally panicked, shakes his head and glances upstairs. “Should we take her to the hospital? Call the doctor? Her mom?”

“No, no stop.” You gasp. “I’m fine. I’m not hurt, just surprised and uncomfortable. I’m-- I’m sure I’m fine. I just need to lie down.”

The sound of the boys’ surprise had called the attention of several of the others, and now Jaehyun nearly tumbles down the stairs to your side, Yuta, Xiaojun, and Lucas right behind him.

“I just need to lie down. I’m not in labor, relax, all of you.” You put a hand on Yuta’s shoulder.

“You need to quit your fucking job,” Jaehyun grumbles. “You’re thirty-what weeks pregnant, you don’t need to stress yourself out at work, exhaust yourself all day. It’s not worth it. Besides that, you’ve got us, what do you need to work for?”

You’ve had this discussion with them before. You don’t want to be entirely dependent on them, that’s why you work. But as a few of the others begin to agree with Jaehyun, you think that they may have a point for the time being. You’re heavily pregnant, there’s no reason that you need that unnecessary stress plus after you have the baby then you can take the time you need to recover and take care of her.

They all continue fussing over you as Lucas supports you up the stairs to your bedroom as the strongest man home at the moment. Your heart wallows in your chest as you feel the heat of his big hands; you’re still mourning the loss of that aspect of your relationship, but Lucas truly does seem immensely happy with Chaerin. He leaves you sitting on the edge of the bed, but Yuta and Jaehyun both linger.

“Are you sure you’re fine?” Yuta asks as he helps you rearrange yourself on the bed, resting back among the pillows at your headboard.

You nod. “It’s just my body practicing. All good. Promise.” Your doctor’s told you about all of this, so you understand what’s happening.

Both Jaehyun and Yuta look at you like they don’t entirely believe you. They coddle you, tucking you in, asking if there’s anything they can get you, asking if it still hurts, if you’re sure you’re okay. Jaehyun seems torn, and when Yuta turns to him looking irritated and says, “Just go, Jaehyun. She’s fine. And if she’s not, we’ll call you.”

“He has a schedule,” Yuta explains to you as Jaehyun leaves the room. “He’s supposed to be filming this evening. Do you want me to stay with you?”

“As long as you don’t ask me if I’m sure I’m fine anymore.” You put your hands on your belly. It feels fine now. “And I’ll definitely let you stay if you promise to rub my feet. They’re sore.”

Yuta smiles even as he teasingly rolls his eyes. “Do you think I love you or something? Rubbing your feet? What next?” But he sits at the end of your bed and gets right to work on massaging the tiredness out of your feet, which feels absolutely amazing.

You keep touching your belly, and after a bit Yuta sighs and rests your feet back down on the bed. “Are you sure...?” He trails off not wanting to tack on the “you’re fine” element of that question.

“I am.” You nod. “Seriously, Yuta. This happens, it’s just the body practicing for labor. I’m fine, please stop asking.” You hold out your hand, and Yuta slides up the bed and he lies down beside you, putting his hand on your belly too. “She knows that she’s got to stay in there for a few more weeks, then she can meet you all.”

“We’re all ready and excited to meet her.” Yuta smiles. “Little princess is going to keep all of us wrapped around her finger, but she should definitely wait a little longer. I had a dream about her a few nights ago; just me holding her, and she looked just like you, so beautiful and sweet, just asleep with her fingers wrapped around mine, and when I looked up from her, there you were.” He flicks his gaze between your lips and your eyes, his warm brown gaze softens as he drinks you in.

“I don’t want her to look like me.” You settle on your side, and brush your fingers over Yuta’s cheek. “I want her to look like one of you, all of you. You’re all so attractive.”

Yuta turns his head to the side to kiss your hand. “And you think you’re not attractive, my love? You snagged fourteen guys at once, how do you think you managed that?”

“My wits and charms.”

“Definitely a huge contributing factor.” Yuta laughs. “You know we love you, right? You’re not just a pretty face, you’re so much more, and we love everything about you.”

You hide your face in the pillow. “Stop, you��re embarrassing me.”

“Cute.” Yuta kisses whatever parts of your face he can get his lips on. “I love you, I love you, I lo--”

You turn your head and put your hands on Yuta’s cheeks, cutting off his professions of love as you drag his mouth against yours.

“Mom, seriously, there’s no room!” You insist over the phone, rolling your eyes to Hendery’s amusement.

“How is there no room?” You mother argues back. “There are how many boys living in that house, and you don’t think you can squeeze your mother in? Honey, you could go into labor any day now. I just want to be there to help you when it does. You’ve said yourself that due to his busy schedule, Johnny might not even be home when you go into labor. You can’t guarantee that any of them will be.”

And that is something that you have seriously been considering over these last few weeks, especially since that day when you felt the Braxton Hicks contractions.

Now, with your due date just days away, with your weekly appointment having just revealed that your cervix is showing signs of the end of your pregnancy, your mother is insisting that she come stay at the house with you.

“I promise you, if I go into labor while I am home alone, you will be the first person I call.” You shift in your seat, trying to get comfortable which has become almost impossible over these last couple weeks. “Listen, Mom, I’ve gotta go, she is pressing right against my bladder.”

It’s not true, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned in this third trimester of your pregnancy it’s that excusing yourself to the bathroom because of the baby is a very useful excuse to exit conversations you’d rather not be a part of. You sit your phone down on the table and look over at Hendery again.

“She’s too much,” you sigh. “You’re all taking good care of me, being observant, helpful. I don’t know what she thinks will be any different if she’s here.” You shift in your seat again, hoping the change in position would get rid of the cramping feeling. Fucking false labor pains.

Something must show on your face because Hendery’s face goes still and pale. “Are you alright?”

You nod wordlessly, settling back in your seat, and you’re grateful when Lucas walks through the doorway into the kitchen, distracting Hendery. They start talking and you stand up to walk around, hoping that it’ll ease this feeling.

But hours later it still hasn’t stopped. And when you go to the bathroom and find that you’ve lost your mucus plug, you sit there for a moment, overwhelmed with excitement and anxiety and fear that this is happening. Maybe not right now, but soon.

You hold on to the firm belief that this is just false labor, even as you’re sitting on the sofa a little after one in the morning, breathing through a contraction, and that’s when Doyoung comes home, talking on his phone and laughing about something. But then he sees you clutching onto a throw pillow, trying to control your breathing.

“Shit, I’ve gotta go.” Doyoung drops his phone on the sofa on his way to you. “Baby, baby, is this it?”

“No.” You shake your head. “No, it’s not. Just false labor pains.”

“Okay.” Doyoung says, but then he sits down beside you, turns on the TV and sits there watching it, but you notice him keep looking at you, and when you inhale sharply at the beginning of a new contraction, Doyoung fully turns his attention away from the TV and stares at you. And the next time this happens he stares at you.

After the fifth contraction hits, Doyoung shakes his head and stands up. “You’re in labor. Your contractions are getting closer together, lasting longer. Do you really want to have your daughter right here on this sofa, or should we get you to the hospital?”

“Doyoung---”

He shakes his head. “No, you at least need a doctor just to make sure that you’re not in labor, if you’re so much in denial.” And then he’s leaving you, running up the stairs, and by the time he comes back down, you’ve decided that he’s definitely right. The contractions are stronger, closer together.

Doyoung returns with Johnny in tow and a bag that you’d packed a few days ago while you were rushing around the house, cleaning and organizing and baby-proofing things. Jaehyun’s right behind them, pulling a jacket on, brushing his fingers through his hair. You can hear the rapid patter of more feet coming down the stairs.

“Do you all think you’re coming, or something?” You groan as you push to your feet. “You can’t all come, that would be so suspicious and strange for anyone who sees you all.”

“I don’t care.” Mark steps forward. “She could be my daughter, and I’ll be damned if I’m not at least there at the hospital when she’s born.”

The volume in the room increases as the others agree, but before you can answer, another contraction hits, and you reach for your nearest boyfriend. Yuta grunts as you squeeze his arm and let out a stream of curses.

“To the hospital, come on, babe.” Johnny reaches for you, gently curling his arm around your shoulders, steering you away from Yuta, to the door of the house. “We’re going, and we’ll call your mom on the way there. The rest’ll follow in a bit.”

But there’s no arguing as Jaehyun climbs into the backseat, Mark right beside him, and when Yuta and Kun both scramble to fill the last empty seat you just groan and complain of feeling claustrophobic with the three boyfriends you’ve already got in the car, so both of them fall back, letting the car door close.

You look out the window as Johnny pulls away from the house, at the gathering of your boyfriends on the front step, watching you leave for the hospital to give birth to a baby fathered by one of them.

You don’t get to see the utter panic of the boys in the waiting room. All fourteen of them filling the room. You can only imagine the odd looks they’re getting from the other people waiting out there, probably wondering why there are so many young men, all talking to each other, as if they know each other so well. You’re sure your father is sitting out there, surprised that, firstly, you don’t have Johnny (who he and your mother still believe to be the father) in the delivery room with you, and secondly, that all of the boys are there except for the Dreamies.

Not that you really think about any of that at the time, you’re too focused on, you know, going through labor with your mother at your side.

So you don’t get to see when Taeyong and Jaehyun flag down a nurse to ask her about paternity tests, nor do you get to see her face when they tell her, no, it’s not just the two of them that are potentially the father.

You don’t hear the panicked phone calls from managers when they realize that none of your boyfriends are at the house, or the ensuing arguments that break out when the managers say that they need to get home, shower, come in for recording or meetings or whatever’s on the schedule for them that day.

They camp out around the waiting room for hours and hours, waiting for news, for anything.

And after a solid nine hours of waiting, your mother comes out into the waiting room, beaming and teary-eyed.

“She’s here. Healthy and chubby. Mei. Her name is Mei.” Your mother tells the anxious men before her.

They don’t all come in at once, scared of overwhelming you and the baby.

The first visitors into the room are your mother and father, Johnny, Jaehyun, Taeyong, and Kun. If you feel like hell, they look like it too. Taeyong looks raggedly tired. Jaehyun’s hair is a mess like he’s been raking his fingers through it. Johnny must have just been woken up, judging by the bleary look in his eyes. Kun just smiles warmly and sweetly as he steps inside the room.

“Oh, God. She’s so little.” Jaehyun is the first at your side, his gaze soft, his hand hesitant as he reaches for her. His hand hovers above her little back, scared of touching her. Instead he looks at you, and asks, “How are you feeling?”

You nod. “I’m tired. But I’ve never been happier.”

You can barely take your eyes off of her. She’s tiny and pink and beautiful, her little warm body cradled against your chest. You can’t believe she’s really here, right here, and you’ve only just stopped crying. You’re tired and overjoyed and feeling so many things.

“I named her Mei.” You look up at the four of them. “Sorry I didn’t wait for any of you to decide. But look at her.” She draws your attention like you’re magnetized, bringing your gaze back to her.

“I think she looks kinda like me,” Kun murmurs as he comes to stand right beside Jaehyun. “Can we hold her?”

“I think she could look like anyone right now.” Taeyong stands quietly at the foot of your bed, staring with his wide, dark eyes at the swaddled baby in your arms.

Johnny stands just behind him, also staring at you and the baby on your chest. He’s absolutely frozen, even when your mother wraps her arms around him in a hug, though he does robotically hug her back. He just stares as your dad thumps him on the back and congratulates him.

Both of those occurrences cause Jaehyun to glare in Johnny’s direction.

“Jae.” You lift a hand to take his, just wanting to ease his jealousy. “Do you want to hold her?”

“Well, wait.” Your mother speaks up. “Shouldn’t the daddy hold Mei first? Johnny?” She looks at the man who she believes to be the father. It’s like all the air goes out of the room. All four of your boyfriends in the room kind of freeze.

The time for the truth has finally come.

“Mom, Dad, I um... Johnny might not be her father. That was just something we told you so you could understand, so you wouldn’t freak out if you knew the truth.” You hold your breath for a moment, considering your next words, but at that moment Mei shifts, making a tiny sound, and once more every eye in the room is on her.

“Well, then, who...?” Your mother looks around at the four men, then back at you and your daughter.

You’re still holding Jaehyun’s hand and he squeezes it reassuringly. You say, “Don’t think less of me, please? It could be any one of the fourteen of them. I can’t explain the relationship to you, so please don’t try to make me. Just, I want you to know the truth now. It wasn’t so important before, but now she’s here, and they’re all here, and we can do a test to find out which of them it is.”

You can see the puzzle pieces fitting together in your parents minds. Comments and things from the last few months.

“Is this why you said that you wouldn’t marry Johnny?” Your father asks.

“What the hell? He proposed to you too?” Jaehyun groans.

You quickly shut that down. “No. Johnny didn’t propose. My parents just wanted me to marry my baby’s dad. No one other than Mark proposed, don’t worry about that.”

Your mother sits down heavily and puts her face in her hands. Ignoring her, you help Kun to hold Mei for the first time. Jaehyun crowds in close, then Taeyong drifts over.

“Hi, Mei.” Kun coos at her. “Hi, little beautiful angel.” He kisses her little head, and you smile, watching the way that he’s so tender with her, the way that all four of them look at her with softened eyes.

Johnny settles on the side of the bed, rubbing a soothing hand over your leg. He asks, “Are you tired?”

You nod. You’re very tired.

“So sleep. We’ve got this.” Johnny scoops up your hand, brings it to his lips. “We’ll have the others come visit once you wake up again.”

Watching your parents interact with your thirteen boyfriends and Lucas over the next two days is kind of amusing. Your parents don’t know which of them is Mei’s father; you don’t know which of them is Mei’s father; they don’t even know which of themselves is the father. So everyone’s a bit awkward now with your little blob now fully formed and brought into the world, a little angel and bundle of joy. Mei.

“You need to finish filling out the birth certificate.” The nurse tells you. And you know. You’ve been putting off filling out the name on the certificate. You want to give her her father’s name, but a large part of you wonders if you should just give her your last name.

“We’re waiting on paternity results,” you tell the woman.

She glances around the room, which at that moment is occupied by Lucas, Hendery, Ten, and WinWin. You know this nurse has seen all of the boys in here; you don’t know if she recognizes them, but you can feel the judgement radiating off of her. She was also there when a few of the boys got swabbed for the DNA test.

When they were all done giving their DNA samples, you were told that the results might take around two to five days. And it’s been two days.

Ten’s in the bed with you, showing you picture and video proof that they’d finished baby-proofing the house for you. Hendery’s sitting beside Lucas, and Lucas is holding your daughter. WinWin’s sitting in the seat beside your bed, looking over at Lucas and Hendery and Mei, a far-away look in his eyes like he can’t believe that she’s finally here.

She seems like she could fit in just one of Lucas’s hands. Her whole little body in his ridiculously large hand.

Lucas has Hendery snap a few pictures of him with her, and you hear him mention Chaerin. Your friend came to visit you already, tagging along with your friends who’ve already had kids. They all stayed for a while, cooing over Mei, giving you advice, but you could tell from the way that Chaerin was looking at your daughter, she was searching for any similarities to Lucas. Which was ridiculous. Even you can admit that your newborn daughter doesn’t look like any of the boys in particular. She looks like a baby.

You remember Lucas telling you one day during your pregnancy how worried he was about the possibility of him being a father, about the fragility of a newborn baby. But now you look over at him, at the way that he’s carefully holding her. He’s holding her properly because he’d spent the first five minutes of his visit asking you and the nurse on how to properly hold her, terrified of doing it wrong and hurting her.

“She’s not going anywhere, you know.” Ten chuckles, nudging his shoulder against yours. “You keep looking over there as if you think she won’t be there anymore.”

“It’s not that.” You shake your head. “I just like to look at her.”

Ten drapes his arm around your shoulders, tucking you into his side, and he kisses the side of your head. “You’re gonna be great at this, you know. This mom thing. Little Mei’s lucky. ”

Deep down you know he’s right, but at the surface of your mind right now are all the anxieties of being a new mom. You keep thinking about taking her home into a house with so many other people, so many loud noises, so many things going on. You think about being alone with her (which certainly hasn’t happened yet) and all the horrible things that you’ve heard about and read about online. You’re not sure you’ll be able to sleep when you do get home. You’ll probably just watch her sleep, keeping an eye on that reassuring rise and fall of her chest, listening for any little sound she might make that means that she’s hungry or messy or anything at all.

“You’ve got this.” Ten tells you now. “You’ve got us too, don’t forget that. You don’t have to do this all alone.”

You do have their help, you know that. That’s why Kun’s there later that day when you and Mei are discharged from the hospital. There’s a baby’s carseat installed in the backseat, and you sit yourself right beside it.

You don’t have to look up to know that the whole drive to the house, Kun keeps throwing glances at you in the rearview mirror.

“The kids are excited to meet her.” Kun tells you when you’re nearly home. You know he’s referring to the Dreamies and YangYang and even the new boys Shotaro and Sungchan, who have all been busy the last couple of days, unable to get the chance to come visit you at the hospital. “We told them to be quiet and gentle, to not scare her or anything like that. Haechan used some colorful language and then told us not to talk to them like they’re kids.”

Sure enough, they’re waiting as soon as you walk through the door.

Kun carries Mei inside in her secure carrier seat. She’s deep asleep, which is lucky. You imagine it would be alarming to suddenly have your entire field of vision filled with half a dozen excited faces crowding in to see you.

“Ohh, she’s so cute,” Jaemin says. “So tiny.”

“She doesn’t look like any of you,” Chenle accuses with a laugh.

“Well, she is one of theirs.” You retort. “Test results should come in any time now.”

A nervous tremor seems to pass around the room. Johnny laughs to break the awkward silence, “Maybe I should film all of us getting the results for JCC. Episode number whatever: you are the father.”

Taeyong lets out a high-pitched nervous laugh. “I’m sure that would go over well with fans and our management.”

“Maybe we should wait and check the DNA test results all together,” Mark suggests as he crouches down to look at Mei in her carrier seat. You watch as he reaches a finger in, prodding it at her little palm, and her tiny fingers close around his. Mark lets out a shaky breath.

“I don’t want to wait.” Lucas says. “I want to know as soon as possible.”

You understand that. And you agree. “I think you should look when you get it. I feel like we always wait and have these big moments together, like the gender reveal and even just when I told you all that I was pregnant. Maybe this time it should be different.”

Quiet murmurs around the room, agreements. Mark sighs, but doesn’t look away from Mei’s little round face. “Okay, so when we get the results, we can look at it whenever we want. To see if she’s my daughter.” He lets out another shaky breath, as if he’s trying to steady himself, to still wrap his mind around her being here and real.

“I just want to look at her,” Jungwoo admits quietly, sitting down beside Mark and looking in at her. Haechan sits right behind them, peering between their shoulders at her. “Look at her eyelashes, her nose. She looks like a doll.”

She really does look like a little doll. Everyone just looks at Mei, admiring her, adoring her, not removing her from the carrier until she wakes up some time later and immediately starts crying. The sound makes your heart race, nerves of doing this for the first time with no nurse to help you if anything goes wrong, like if she suddenly decides that she won’t latch on (which so far hasn’t been a problem, but everything you read in the last weeks of your pregnancy suddenly rises to the forefront of your mind).

Some of the boys back away cautiously when you lift her from the carrier, and you laugh. “It’s like you’ve never seen a baby before. Relax,” you tell them and you tell yourself. “Don’t any of you want to hold her?”

Several of your boyfriends have held her when they visited you in the hospital, but not all of them. To your surprise, Jungwoo hadn’t held her yet despite how excited he’d been all throughout your pregnancy. Yuta had held her once, just staring at her in awe, holding her so gently as if she was made of glass, almost holding his breath while she looked back at him.

"What’s her name again?” YangYang asks, sidling up beside you. He wiggles his fingers down at her, then gives her one of his fingers to hold on to. “Can’t we just keep calling her Little Blob?”

“No.” You roll your eyes at him. “Her name is Mei.”

You knew her name the moment you saw her, even before you saw her. In the last few weeks you’ve thought about it a lot, thought about names in different languages, different meanings. And now you know. Mei. It works in Chinese, in Japanese, even kind of in Korean. Beautiful.

You spend the rest of the day settling Mei in, sleeping when she sleeps, feeding her. Taeyong sits in your room while you use the toilet, a process that you wish you could entirely avoid this soon after birth. You leave him there watching her, holding her, cooing at her. Just as you’re coming out of the bathroom, wrapped in a soft robe, you hear Taeyong whispering to her, and see Mei staring up at him, her whole hand tight around his pinky finger, and Taeyong looking at her with pure adoration, like she’s his whole world.

Jaehyun comes in as you’re sitting there with Taeyong, your chin tucked over his shoulder, both of you looking down at her. Jaehyun slides onto your bed, a hand sliding down your arm, over your waist, his other hand reaches around and he ever-so-lightly strokes Mei’s soft cheek.

Instinctively she turns her head toward his fingers, and Jaehyun makes this small indecipherable sound.

You turn your head to the side, just enough that you can see his face. You can see it in his eyes right then, can see just how badly Jaehyun wants her to be his daughter. You can see how much he wants this moment to be just you and him, for her to be in his arms, for the rest of his future to be you and her and him. How he wants sleepless nights trying to rock Mei back to sleep. How he wants to wake up in the night to her little hands and small voice asking him to come scare away the monsters under her bed. How he wants to have random strangers look at the two of them and say how similar they look.

You think she’d be adorable with his dimples.

Taeyong passes her back to you when she starts to get fussy, and when you start to loosen up your robe, Taeyong excuses himself from the room, leaving you and Jaehyun.

Jaehyun tries his best to not stare as you breastfeed. He’s seen your tits a hundred times, but suddenly the sight of them makes him blush, the tips of his ears pink as he looks over at the crib in the corner and the rocking chair, the stuffed animals. Anywhere but at your breasts.

You smile at his embarrassment, and look down at her.

You like to imagine that you can tell which of them is Mei’s father now that she’s here. That just by looking at her, you can pick out features that point to the boys. Her skin’s pale enough that she could be Jaehyun’s with his lighter skin. Sometimes you look at her little nose and think that it looks like Taeil’s. Her eyes are big, wide, dark and she has beautiful eyelashes which honestly could be several of the boys. But honestly, looking at her, she does look overwhelmingly like one of them, you know she does. You just can’t figure out which of them.

After she falls back asleep some time later, you put her down in her little crib, and you sit down on the edge of the bed and just keep looking at the crib.

Jaehyun pats the bed. “Lay down, babe. You should sleep while you can.”

“I know.” You sink back, then tuck yourself against Jaehyun, glad that you have someone here with you. You feel Jaehyun relaxing with you in his arms, his lips brushing your temple, his nose in your hair. You tilt your head back so you can look Jaehyun in the eye as you ask, “If I fall asleep, will you keep an eye on her?”

“Of course.” Jaehyun glances over toward the crib. “I’ll take care of her and I’ll take care of you, and right now, your priority is taking care of you. Sleep.”

When you wake from your nap, Jaehyun’s sitting in the rocking chair beside the crib, gazing down at Mei in his arms as she holds on to his finger. And it’s not just the three of you. Miso has entered the room too, and he sits on the foot of your bed, staring at Jaehyun and Mei.

Throughout the pregnancy, your cat had shown little to no interest in your belly. Once or twice you’d woken up in your late pregnancy to find him curled up in bed with you, his head on your belly, but that was it. One of those times, your little baby had kicked right where Miso’s head was, and he’d lifted his head looking irritated, and swatted gently back at your belly.

So you’re not quite sure how he’s going to react to her now. It took him so long to warm up to the boys. Even now he only lets a few of them approach him without him fleeing, even less of them can hold him. But when he hops off the bed and walks over to curl up beneath the crib, with his eyes following the movement of Jaehyun gently rocking in the chair, you think maybe this will all be okay.

“How is she?” You sit up, rubbing at your eyes.

“Perfect.” Jaehyun looks up at you. “She’s just been sleeping.” He strokes her cheek with his thumb, and he sighs as he also touches the shell of her ear.

There’s a look on his face that you can’t quite decipher, and before you can ask him, the door opens. Doyoung peeks around the door. His eyes run over you in the bed, over Jaehyun in the chair, down to Mei, and then back to you. His fingers are white on the door.

“I just got an email. The results.” Doyoung wags his phone. “I think some of the others might have them too.”

He comes inside and flops down on the bed beside you. Doyoung’s hair falls in a messy array around his head, and he lets out a nervous noise, reaches for your hand, and lays it on his chest. “My heart is racing. God.”

“Don’t be nervous, Doyoungie.” You drum your fingers on his chest. “What do you want? So few of you have actually told me what you’re hoping for.” You look back at Jaehyun, and he’s looking at you, the light of certainty in his eyes, as if he’s trying to reassure you that he wants his result to be a positive paternity.

“I love you,” Doyoung says quietly, just for you to hear. “It doesn’t matter if she’s mine or not. I’ll love her like my own. Shall we look?”

You can almost hear Jaehyun holding his breath in the corner, his mind racing as he worries if this is going to be positive.

Doyoung holds his phone up over his face, unlocks it, and right there is the email. You put your head right beside his, looking up at the little screen. Doyoung reads quicker than you do, and as you hear his shaky exhale, you see the conclusion, reading that Doyoung is not the father.

“Well?” Jaehyun asks from across the room.

“It’s not me.” Doyoung drops his phone back down onto his chest. “So you still have hope, Jaehyun.”

Over the next few hours, a few more of the boys come find you, each of them with their results, all negative.

Second was Mark, wandering in just a few minutes after Doyoung. The way his face fell when he saw the negative result made you want to kiss him and promise him you’d give him a baby of his own as soon as you were able. Jungwoo slipped into the room, barely glancing at Jaehyun who still sat over in the corner rocking Mei, and Jungwoo tells you that his result was negative also.

“Which is a good thing, probably. I don’t think I’d be ready for this. Dad Jungwoo? No, Uncle Jungwoo sounds much better to me.” He kisses you on the forehead as if you’re supposed to feel some sense of relief instead of a tightening in your gut as your boyfriends are wheedled away.

Ten finds you later that night as you’re standing in the kitchen grabbing a bite to eat. “I’m going to have to break my mom’s heart when I call her next time,” Ten says as he shows you his email. “I think she really was looking forward to having a granddaughter, but I’m not so sure she’s going to get a biological grandchild from me.” He scuffs his toes across the floor, takes a deep breath, then asks, “Can I talk to you?”

The tightness in your belly winds even tighter. “Yes?”

“I love you,” Ten tells you as he takes your hand. “You’re like my best friend, and we always have so much fun together, and I feel like I can talk to you about everything and anything, which is why I don’t think it’ll be too much for me to tell you that I think it’s time for me to exit this relationship. I’ve had fun, and I love getting off with you. But I think I’d be happier in a different relationship.”

You’re not terribly surprised. Ever since the start of the pregnancy, probably even before then, Ten and you had been withdrawing from each other in terms of the sexual aspect of this relationship. He was more often entangling himself with your other boyfriends than with you, so this doesn’t feel so much like a break up, rather it’s like it just fizzled out.

“I’m not ruling out the possibility of still having sex with you in the future, though.” Ten makes sure to wink as he says it, nudging you with his arm.

Xiaojun, Hendery, Taeil. All three are negative. Xiaojun looks upset at first, honestly disappointed. Hendery lets out a sigh of relief before apologizing for feeling so relieved. Taeil just kind of shuts down upon seeing that it’s not him, and when you try to talk to him about it, he says something that just really makes you sad.

“It’s fine,” he sighs. “I wasn’t really expecting it to be me anyway. I wouldn’t be that lucky.”

Even with half of the boys marked off the list of fathers, that knot in your belly is still tight.

The next day, only Lucas gets his emailed result. You’re sitting at the kitchen table with Jaemin and YangYang and still-glum Taeil. Lucas’s face goes pale as he looks over at you and your daughter, his grip white-knuckled on his phone as he checks out the email that has the potential to change his entire future.

The answer is this: a deep, long sigh he lets out, his entire body relaxing, a laugh bubbling out of him and his wide smile stretching his lips.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be this happy about this.” He covers his mouth. “It’s not me. Sorry, Mei.” He stands up, comes over and places a very gentle kiss on her head. “I’ve gotta go tell Chaerin. I promised her I’d tell her the results as soon as I got them.” And then he’s gone from the room.

You can’t deny the slight relief you feel too. You wouldn’t have wanted Lucas to be so locked into this when he’s the only one who’s truly left the relationship entirely, moved on and all that.

And when you wake on the fifth day, you can feel the energy buzzing in the house. It’s late into the morning already, so several of the guys are awake. You were just up a few hours before, feeding and trying to calm Mei down, but the house had been otherwise quiet then. Now you can hear semi-excited voices echoing from down the hallway, from downstairs too.

As the number of possible fathers has dwindled, your remaining boyfriends had grown more and more excited. Or anxious might be the better word. Johnny, Taeyong, Yuta, Kun, Jaehyun, and WinWin had yet to get their results.

Mei’s still asleep at the moment, and you move over to stand beside the crib, looking down at her little sleeping form. She was blessed with a decent amount of thick, black hair right away, and it looks messy at the moment. You want to reach down and smooth it into place, but you know that in doing that you just might wake her.

So you hold your breath and keep quiet and still, just watching her, watching her chest rise and fall.

You feel the movement from the other side of the room more than hearing it. Quiet footsteps from the door toward you, and then an arm sliding around your waist, a body knocking against your side.

“Hey, good morning.” Taeyong squeezes you gently. “We have some news.”

“Yeah?”

Taeyong hums in confirmation. “Johnny woke me up this morning when he dropped his phone when he saw that he had his results. So I checked and saw I had mine too. Jaehyun said he still doesn’t have his results though, so Johnny and I checked ours.” You look sideways at him as he drops his head, and he murmurs, “Neither of us. But I’m pretty sure I heard Yuta say through the wall that his result was in.”

Yuta, Kun, Jaehyun, and WinWin.

One of them is the father.

You sigh heavily, resting your head on Taeyong’s shoulder. His nose touches your hair and then he stands up a little straighter.

“Don’t stress, baby.” Taeyong rubs his hands up and down your side. “How are you feeling? Do you need more sleep? Some time to yourself? Because there are about sixteen of us in this house right now that can watch Mei so you can catch a little more sleep.” He senses your hesitation, so suggests, “Or we can call your mom to come over, if you don’t trust us.”

You turn around then to face Taeyong. “It’s not that I don’t trust you all. Some of you are good with kids and babies, one man in this house is her father. Of course I trust you guys with her. But, I also wouldn’t put it past some people in this house to get overly rambunctious when she’s around, and I just don’t--”

The door opens again, Johnny looking in. “Hey, did he tell you?”

“That we’re down to the final four? Yeah.” You step away from Taeyong, stretching your arms over your head. The shirt you wore to sleep lifts up, and you feel the cool air touching your belly. You catch Johnny’s eyes looking, and you quickly tug your shirt down, feeling embarrassed about how you look right now. It was one thing when your belly was big from the baby inside you, but now she’s evacuated, and your uterus and abdominal muscles are still working on coming to terms with that.

“I don’t need anyone else to watch her. I’ve got it.” You turn to Taeyong again.

He bites his lip, looking imploringly past you to Johnny.

Johnny clears his throat. “Babe, don’t take this the wrong way. But you’ve been home for, what, three days now?” He comes farther into the room, standing between you and your ensuite, edging nearer to the crib. Johnny glances at Taeyong, then back at you. He asks, “How many hours of sleep have you gotten? And, uh, we love you, we truly do, but, babe, you stink. Please take a shower.”

Something hot, like shame and embarrassment, flushes through you.

“No, don’t be like that.” Johnny steps forward quickly. “None of us wanted to say anything because you’re obviously busy and focused on taking care of Mei, but at some point you need to focus on you. Let us take her off your hands for just half an hour. That’s all. Can you trust us to do that?”

Your face is burning. How can you say no after that? Do you really smell that bad? You knew that you were sweating in your sleep, but you didn’t think it was that much. You also didn’t realize that you hadn’t showered since you got home from the hospital.

“Okay. But just please be careful with her.” You glance down at her in the crib as she makes a little sound. “Maybe I should--”

“No.” Johnny and Taeyong both say it at the same time.

Mei stretches her arms above her head, wiggling as she blinks and opens her eyes fully. Her little face scrunches up, and you know that she’s about to cry. You take a step toward her, but Taeyong beats you to it.

He scoops her up in his arms.

“Shh. Shh, you’re okay.” He holds her against his chest. “You’re fine, Mei. Momma’s gonna go get clean and fresh, and you get to spend some time with Uncle Tyong.” He kisses her head, cradling her, swaying from side to side. From where you stand, you can see that she’s just staring up at his face, all signs of fussiness gone.

“Go shower.” Johnny’s hand curls over your shoulder. “And don’t rush, okay? Take a little time for yourself.”

Taeyong’s still murmuring to Mei, talking to her in a sweet baby-voice when you step through the door into your bathroom, and as you’re undressing, you can hear him and Johnny leaving your room, which also makes you nervous. You’re going to shower quickly.

As you wait for the water to warm up, you hear your bedroom door open, you hear your name, and then a soft knock on the bathroom door. Jaehyun opens the door, looking around at you. “Where’s Mei?”

“Taeyong’s got her.” You fold your arms in front of you, trying to hide your belly from his view, but it’s too late. You know he’s already seen, but he just smiles and looks you up and down again. “He and Johnny reminded me that I need to shower. Do I really smell bad?”

Jaehyun avoids looking at you for just long enough that you know you’ve got your answer. Then he smiles all sweetly and says, “Can I shower with you?”

“I hope you know you’re not getting anything out of this.” You step back toward the shower. “Just a shower.”

Jaehyun nods, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. He strips naked quickly and follows you into the shower. Jaehyun’s gentle as he helps you suds up your hair with shampoo, as he kisses you. You relax with his hands on you, and you knit your fingers in his hair, holding his mouth to yours.

Maybe it is nice having a house full of babysitters, so you can catch a few minutes of you-time right here.

How many parents can just take some time to make out in the shower when they’ve got a newborn?

“Oh, that reminds me.” You pull back from the kiss, patting your hand on Jaehyun’s chest. “Did you get your result yet? It’s just you, Yuta, WinWin, and Kun left. All your dreams are this close to coming true.” You wrap your arms around his neck.

Jaehyun groans and rolls his head back on his shoulders.

“What?” You ask. “Jaehyun? What does that reaction mean?”

“I got my result right after Doyoung got his.” Jaehyun quietly admits. “I felt the notification in my pocket while he was laying there with you, checking his result.” His throat bobs. “I was just scared to check it.”

“Jae.” You slip your arms from around his neck, sliding your hands down into his, squeezing them. “You know that no matter what the result is, you can still be her dad?”

He sighs and presses his face against your shoulder. The shower’s spray bounces off his shoulders, the sound filling your ears. Jaehyun suddenly seems so small and tired and nervous. “It’s the jealousy, I think, that made me really scared to check the email. I don’t want to be jealous. I know that even if I’m not her biological father, I can still be her dad. But I want to be her only dad because I’m a jealous dick. That’s what Yuta called me the other night when I was complaining about that.”

“Can we check what the email says when we get out of here?” You rake your fingers through his soaked hair. Jaehyun nods against your shoulder.

Once you’re both out of the shower, Jaehyun piddles around, wasting time fixing his hair in the bathroom, taking his time when he leaves back to his room to dress, and then when he comes back into your room, he returns with Yuta and a fussy Mei. Yuta passes her off to you, explaining that he thinks she’s hungry or needs her diaper changed.

“Well, then this would be a good time for both of you to learn to change her diaper, wouldn’t it?” You lay her on the little changing table you have in the corner, beckon both Jaehyun and Yuta over.

Jaehyun moves slower, looking reluctant to have to face that, but Yuta comes over right away.

“Oh God.” He brings his hand up to cover his nose as the mess in your daughter’s diaper is revealed. “Why does it look like that?”

“She’s on a diet of breastmilk, Yuta. And she’s only a few days old. It’s not going to look like an actual poo.” You step aside, looking over at Jaehyun who’s standing behind you. “Well, I’m not going to be the only one in this relationship changing her diapers. Come on. This is a learning experience.”

Yuta makes the first move, and you know he’s just trying to rile up Jaehyun when he says, “Her dad can take care of a little dirty diaper. Isn’t that right, Mei?” And then he starts speaking to her in Japanese.

Jaehyun frowns, and he steps forward, elbowing Yuta out of the way. “I can do this. It’s just a diaper, right?”

After a few minutes of them whining and groaning and taking breaks to gag (it’s really not that bad), little Mei has a fresh diaper and she’s settling in again. Yuta stands beside the crib, his arms folded on the wooden gate, his chin resting on them as he watches her wave her hands up at the mobile that spins around over her head.

Jaehyun settles back onto your bed, his arms behind his head, feet kicked out. His phone rests face-up on his belly.

Just as you’re about to bring it up to Jaehyun again about checking his email, you hear another ding. Yuta stiffens up at the crib, and you can see his phone screen lighting up his pocket from a notification. He straightens up, fishes his phone out of his pocket, and then sits down on the edge of your bed too.

“Well, what does it say?” You sit on the bed between them. Both Yuta and Jaehyun are holding their phones now, white-knuckled, faces drawn and pale. “Let’s take a look. Go on.”

They’re both moving slowly, reluctantly, so you grab one of Jaehyun’s hands, one of Yuta’s hands, and hold them in yours for reassurance.

Together, they lift their phones, unlock them. Your eyes dart back and forth between them, as if you’ll be able to read the light on their faces or see the tiny print reflected in their eyes. So instead you look down into the triangle of your duvet between your folded legs. And you wait expectantly for one of them to say....

“It’s me.”

His voice is hoarse. Hoarse but full of relief and excitement at newfound fatherhood, but also fear and worry and so many anxieties. He says again now, “I’m Mei’s father.”

You lift your head and look straight ahead at where WinWin stands framed in the doorway, holding out his phone, the screen all lit up, the email pulled up right there with the evidence. And he’s smiling. Because he’s the father, because his daughter that is half him and half you and entirely perfect in every way is on the other side of the room.

Jaehyun’s off the bed before you can move, and he’s standing in front of WinWin to jerk the phone from his hand to check the result, to see it with his own eyes.

Yuta stays planted on the bed with you, his fingers knotted with yours as he looks back down at his phone. He tilts it so you can see his email, see the result that confirms that he is not a DNA match with Mei. “Doesn’t mean I’ll love her any less,” Yuta mumbles as he brings your hand up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss. “As far as I’m concerned, there’s some part of my DNA in her, and I’ll treat her as such until the day neither you or her wants me in your lives.”

“Thank you, Yuta.” You rest your head on his shoulder for a moment. “I love you.”

“Love you too. You should probably go over there.” He nods at where Jaehyun is still staring down at WinWin’s phone with a truly shocked and sad look on his face. “I’m good, my love. Go talk to the new Papa and the depressed not-dad.”

When you slide up to them, your hand drifts over Jaehyun’s lower back, and your other hand you lift to WinWin’s cheek.

“Hi, daddy.”

WinWin smiles, wide and shy, excited. “I’m a dad.” His gaze flicks toward Jaehyun as your other boyfriend hands his phone back. “Jae, are you mad?”

Jaehyun shakes his head quietly and looks away. “Not mad. On some level I knew I wasn’t her dad. I mean, someone said it a few months ago. I often sat to the side during sex, so I had less of a chance than the rest of you all. And then as soon as she was born, I could tell she doesn’t look like me.” He looks over at the crib again, then back at WinWin, and he reaches up, fingers brushing WinWin’s pointy ear. “She has his ears, so I had a feeling.”

She does? You hadn’t noticed that, not consciously but perhaps subconsciously you had. Maybe that’s the little thing that you’d noticed that made you think she looked like one of them.

“I’m not mad. I’m not even upset really. Relax.” He cups his hand agains the back of your head, stroking your hair gently with a soft smile on his face. “I’m going to eat something. Yuta hyung?” Jaehyun steps away from you and WinWin. “We should leave the happy parents with their sweet girl.”

“And break the news to Kun, if he hasn’t already seen his result.” Yuta pushes off the bed, kissing your cheek as he passes you by, and ruffling WinWin’s hair. He slaps his hand down on WinWin’s shoulder too. “Congrats, WinWin.”

WinWin grins. “Thanks, Yuta.”

And as Yuta and Jaehyun walk out the door together, Yuta throws his arm around Jaehyun’s shoulders. “Better luck to us both next time, right?”

The door closes, and WinWin sighs lightly, sinking into you, pulling you in for a hug, but he also tips your head back, capturing your lips in a kiss. You smile into the kiss, laughing when WinWin does too.

“My family is going to be so surprised,” WinWin says to you. “When I tell them I have a daughter that was just born. Dong Mei.”

“Dong Mingmei.” You correct him. “Mei is just the name that was in common for all of the names I was considering. Mei’s her Korean name. Mingmei in Chinese. Maybe we should go visit your family when she’s a little older, when she can travel. Oh, I need to finish filling out the birth certificate. Give our daughter your name.”

You slip out of his arms, taking his hand and pulling him with you to the crib. Mei’s still staring up at the spinning mobile, but her eyelids are heavy, and now that you look at her, you can see what Jaehyun was saying about her ears. The one comes to an elfin point, like WinWin’s one ear does.

WinWin wraps his arms around your waist, his warm chest against your back, and his cheek rests atop your head. “We made a beautiful baby.”

You heart swells in your chest, looking down at your newborn daughter as her eyes close, watched over as she falls into sweet dreams by the two people who will forever and always adore her.

gimme that: a drabble <- Previous || Next -> Fresh Air

a/n: so I had already decided on the name Mei when I realized that’s the same name I used for the baby in we got that good love (the daddy/husband Kun smut), but that was just a coincidence. I chose it because it’s a name that works in Japanese, Chinese, and kinda even in Korean.

Anyway, thank you so much for reading. This one was a long one, oof sorry about that. Sharing, commenting, feedback are all greatly appreciated! Please let me know what you thought!

#nct smut #wayv smut #poly smut #nct #wayv

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chipper-smol · 3 years ago

Text

Hollow Knight Telephone Round Two: Relic Coffee Shop

Prompt

Prompts:

1: Lemm finds an odd fellow at the Blue Lake. Normally he wouldn’t bother to approach a stranger out of nowhere, but something in his gut urges him to take action. Quirrel, feeling the effects of age on his body, stares incredulously at the bearded face of a stranger who apparently wants to have him over for coffee. 2: Lemm sets up shop in an abandoned cafe. It’s roomy and pleasant at first, but there are _stacks_ of these disgusting old bitter coffee beans clogging up the rooms. It doesn’t help that bugs keep coming in to order a drink even though he’s posted signs to _KEEP OUT!!_ However, once they start offering Geo be begrudgingly takes it as an opportunity to achieve funds to pay for relics. 3: At first, the coffee was just an excuse to get Geo to pay for relics, but Lemm’s begun to notice that bugs who wandered into his shop with the telltale early symptoms of infection no longer have them on their return visits. He tells himself he’s not an altruist. He’s _not._It’s just a waste to throw out old coffee when someone just needs a pick-me-up.

By @bluwails

------------------------------- By @hydrochlorinate

“Just don’t. Tell. Anyone. Else.”

Those were the words that came out of the grumpy barista’s mouth that fateful day. One’s that you completely ignored, as you had already been drinking what could only be the drink of HIgher Beings, with just how heavenly it tasted.

Grinning like a lunatic, you give him 45 geo, not a small sum. If anything though, it was hilariously cheap for a drink that was this good. The bug doesn’t complain about the amount though, so he’s probably fine with it. Wings fluttering in excitement, you leave the shop, ready to tell any remaining survivors about the amazing drink shop you just found.

===============>(Coffee Shop AU)

The next time you come in, the store is absolutely packed. Denizens from all across the ruins of Hallownest are here, ranging from some uninfected moss knights to that one ladybug that you had a dance off with a while back. There's even a noble here, and- is that a mantis?

Anyway, it looks like your very subtle method of giving publicity to this cafe by talking about literally nothing else to whomever you talked to over the following week paid off. Good, this place deserves all the atte-  “You.”

Oh? You snap out of your thoughts, and look towards the counter, where the barista is levelling a glare at you that could instantly wither those delicate flowers that have been spreading around recently.

You stroll on up to the counter, a grin stretching across your face. The barista narrows his eyes.

“Didn’t I tell you to keep this a secret? Why is my establishment filled to the brim with bugs? Who are these people?!”

...huh. Did he tell you to keep it on the down low? It seems in character from your limited interactions, but you don’t remember exactly. Oh well, time to play it off. You tell him that, well, what can you say except you’re welcome.

You’ve never seen a bug go from “Irritated” to “Ballistic” as fast as this barista. Usually they make a stop at “Angry” or “Absolutely Livid”.

“YOU’RE WELCOME?!?!”  No, see, he’s supposed to say thank you.  “THANK YOU???”  You tell him he’s welcome, before laughing. No, really, you tell him, look around, the place is packed! Business is booming! The barista (you should really ask for his name) manages to bring his volume under control, taking in a deep breath.

“That’s part of the problem. I’m a relic seeker, not a-” He gestures around the cafe, as if looking for the right words to use. Barista, you suggest.

“Exactly. I’m not made to brew coffee-” Oh, that’s what it was called. “-or to be dealing with customers all day long.”

Sure. That’s why he decided to allow people to keep purchasing coffee, or why he decided to put on a cute green and white visor.

You didn’t just come to check in on your new favorite bug though, you have coffee to order! Taking out a sheet of paper from your bag, you begin to read out both your order, and those of your companions. Even with the end of the infection, the leftover damage to hallownest’s caves and architecture makes it dangerous to travel alone.

As you begin to read out your order, the barista shifts from crotchety old bug to attentive worker. You really wish you had come back earlier, instead of letting some of your other traveling buddies pick up the coffee for you. Something about the atmosphere here is… relaxing, despite the amount of people.

After your order is finished, you leave the cafe. Back to the real world bucko, as an old friend of yours would always say.

...Wait a minute you never got the barista’s name.

===============>(Coffee Shop AU)

It’s been 3 weeks. You think. Time gets a little funky down here, what with the sudden influx of void. Sure, most of it has cleared out by now, but every so often your exploration party comes across a tunnel that hasn’t quite been fully illuminated, the shadows just a bit too thick to be natural.

You enter the coffee shop again. It’s gotten a lot quieter as time went on and bugs started coming in on a schedule. There’s still plenty of other customers here, but it’s nowhere near as packed as the first couple of days. Lemm (yeah, you finally got his name) stands at the counter, still slightly disgruntled, but a lot less so than he was at the beginning. In fact, he’s actually talking to someone right now! An actual conversation too, not just an exchange of witty remarks. You can’t see their face, but they appear to be a pillbug wearing a blue hood.  As you step up to the counter, you can hear their conversation a bit better.

“...of course, I couldn’t just leave it sitting there right? So I move to pick it up, only to find out that the desk I dropped it on was magnetized! So here I am, trying and failing to pick up this one plant hanger for a solid 10 minutes.”

They both laugh at this, before noticing you. The unknown bug turns to face you, allowing you to see his mask.  “Oh, hello, I don’t believe we’ve met before!”

You greet him back, introducing yourself.

“It’s nice to meet you. My name’s Quirrell. I’m… well, I can’t really call myself an explorer, because I’ve already been everywhere! I’m more of a wanderer, really.”

Ahh, a free spirit, you see. You point out that just because he’s been everywhere doesn’t mean he’s seen everything. After all, who knows what could’ve gone down during Hallownest’s peak. Both Quirrell and Lemm get amused by this, for some reason. Seeing your confused look, Lemm decides to speak up.

"He probably knows more about Hallownest than everyone here, having lived here since before the infection and all."

Your eyes widen, and your wings begin to flutter. Truly? An original denizen, and not someone else trying to piece together its history? Quirrell waves off the words, though.

"I wouldn't go that far…" He begins, but Lemm cuts him off before he can go any further.

"Hah! Next you'll be telling me that you weren't the head assistant of the kingdom's best scientist!"

Giving off the equivalent of a blush, Quirrell rubs the back of his head. Lemm turns back to you.

"I'm sure you didn't come in just to chat, though. What can I get for you?"

It's nice to see him making friends.

------------------------------- By @schyrsivochter

Lemm wasn’t a sociable person. That was a fact. He wasn’t good at talking, or at being friendly. (It wasn’t like he needed it, anyway. It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed conversing with another bug.)

No, Lemm was much more of a person for reading. Deciphering the journals of the long dead, the writing and languages, was something he thoroughly enjoyed. Other artefacts spoke differently: the materials from which they were made, the way they were worked, the artistic style. It was a different kind of reading; some might say a more figurative one. But it was just as interesting.

Of course, architecture was part of that. It had not been a coincidence that Lemm had set up camp in Hallownest’s abandoned capital. When he’d arrived, he hadn’t dared to think that he’d ever finish exploring and finding new things. And it was true; he’d only explored a little bit before he’d realised that collecting and gathering relics was no use if he never took a proper look at them, instead letting them gather dust on the shelves, the tables, and the floor of the long-abandoned shop he’d moved into. So he’d decided to stay there, poring over his collection. His picture of the world of Hallownest in times past grew ever more detailed, more complete.

He’d opened the shop because people did not seem to stop wanting to sell him relics, and it never hurt to appear a little professional. And it had been a reliable source of new artefacts; new knowledge. He’d never sold anything, of course. His collection was his, and his alone.

And then came the dark. The cleansing void. It had taken him by surprise; he’d been working, and only noticed that anything was amiss when the light dimmed and he was finally bathed in darkness. He must’ve fallen unconscious at that point, and there’d been no telling how long it had been until he’d awoken. It hadn’t been until later that he’d learned that this was what had obliterated the plague, leaving in its wake hundreds of confused survivors and thousands of dead. No, the next thing to happen that told him things were not as usual was that a bug had come in, asked if he was open, and, upon his affirmative answer, asked for a hot drink, holding out a piece of ten.

Taken by surprise, he’d offered to make tea. He’d immediately regretted it, since it meant the bug would be staying for a while, probably without selling him relics, but it was easy enough to do and would get him geo, his supply of which had been running low. So he put a kettle on and took the money. The bug had thanked him profusely, while he had elected to remain quiet.

Not long afterwards, the same bug and four others stood in the doorway. Whether they had relics for him, he’d asked. They’d looked amongst themselves, and one had asked, ‘Is this not a coffee shop?’

‘I suppose it might’ve once been,’ he’d said. ‘Now it’s mine.’

More confused looks and standing around, and then the bug he’d seen before asked if he’d make more tea. He’d said no, not unless they paid him twice as much as the last time and stayed quiet and didn’t disturb him in his work. To his horror, the five bugs had agreed, and so he’d dug out cups from the coffee shop’s former stock and afterwards found himself a little richer in geo but with a significantly worse mood.

He had his peace afterwards, though. At least for a while. Now a bug had arrived, taller than the others, wearing a headscarf. Lemm had mentally prepared for the bug to ask for coffee, but the bug had halted in front of one of the tables that Lemm had repurposed for his collection of relics.

‘Admiring my collection?’ Lemm asked.

’Yes, quite!’ the bug answered, chipper and friendly. ‘I’m curious how you managed to get a hold of so many texts in such diverse languages! These are journals, are they not?’

‘They are,’ Lemm acknowledged. ‘From all over Hallownest.’

‘But most of them aren’t any Hallownest language.’ The bug put a hand on his mask. ‘I suppose they’re from travellers that came to the ruins and perished?’

‘Quite right,’ Lemm said. He had to admit, begrudgingly, that the bug standing before him was sharp and knew his history. A trait not many others shared.

‘Can you read all of them?’ The mask turned towards Lemm, inclined in question.

‘No,’ he answered truthfully, making his way around the counter to stand next to the bug. ‘I haven’t had the time to decipher all of them yet. But I’ll get around to it eventually.’

‘Interesting,’ the bug said. ‘I can—huh?’

He turned towards the entrance, and Lemm followed his gaze. Lemm was about to ask what the problem was, when a bug appeared in the entrance. The one that he’d made tea twice for. Ah yes, he thought. A customer. Two of them, in fact; one of the others from before had joined the one who’d taken a fancy to paying Lemm to make tea.

‘I don’t suppose,’ Lemm said, ‘there is any way to convince you to find tea somewhere else?’

The bugs shook their head.

Lemm sighed, and muttered an apology to the tall visitor. Time to get it over with.

He went to the back room to prepare the tea, and overheard the two visitors conversing in the front.

‘What’s this, anyway?’

‘Historical documents. Journals of travellers.’

‘What’s it doing here?’

‘I think the shopkeep collects them.’

‘That’s correct!’ Lemm called. ‘I’m always buying, if you have anything of historical value.’

He grabbed the cups and walked back to the front. ‘That’s fifty geo. Unless you have relics.’

The bugs complained under their breath, but paid up, and Lemm could direct his attention back to the visitor.

‘So is this what you do?’ they asked. ‘Opened the coffee shop again and collecting relics in your free time?’

Lemm was dumbstruck for a moment. Then he remembered to be outraged. ‘No! I am not opening this place as a coffee shop! People just keep coming and demanding tea and I cannot let an opportunity to earn easy money go to waste!’

‘Relic business not exactly booming, then, I assume?’

‘I’m—’ he spluttered, ‘It’s not a business! I don’t sell my relics, they’re mine!’

‘So you wouldn’t have any income if you weren’t selling tea?’

Lemm had the distinct impression that the bug was making fun of him. He didn’t answer, but simply walked up to the table, grabbed a random journal, and took it to his desk to try and get some work done.

He had not yet prepared his quill and ink when he was interrupted yet again.

‘You know,’ the visitor called, ‘that one is from a traveller from Greynest. Came here looking for his brother, never found him. No doubt said brother also perished in the ruins.’

Lemm turned around to see the bug standing in the doorway, having followed him halfway. ‘And how do you know this?’ he asked.

The bug shrugged. ‘I read it.’

Lemm regarded the bug. They didn’t seem to be joking.

‘You mean to tell me,’ Lemm began, slowly, ‘you know this language?’

‘Yes,’ they said nonchalantly. ‘I think I’ve been to Greynest? Must have been a while ago.’

‘Are you a traveller, then?’ Lemm asked. ‘You don’t seem the type.’

As soon as he’d spoken the words, Lemm became aware how utterly ridiculous it was of him to make observations about people. He didn’t like people, he wasn’t interested in people—

The bug laughed. ‘I am, in fact. I have travelled far and wide.’

‘Hmph,’ said Lemm, unsure what else to say. He turned back to his work, looked at the angular shapes carved into the stone, but now it seemed senseless to try and make sense of it when he knew that it was no mystery to the bug standing behind him.

At some point, he looked up and found that he was hungry and the visitor was gone. Oh, well. Time for a meal, then, and afterwards he might be able to find something else to do.

* * *

The next time the tea-drinker returned, they asked for tea and then asked Lemm about the relics, and he was in a favourable enough mood to talk about them. They asked some fairly stupid questions, but it seemed to come out of a genuine interest in the topic, so he indulged them. Plus, he had to admit that he enjoyed having a reliable source of geo. Not that he needed it much for buying relics, these days, but he supposed that his supplies of food – and of tea – would not last indefinitely, and he didn’t particularly fancy having to go back to scavenging, now that there were actual people living in the vicinity again. No, he’d rather find some place where he could buy what he needed fair and square.

The traveller with the headscarf returned, and it was an odd sort of feeling Lemm had about them. Like he actually liked having them in his shop and talking to them. And the perplexing thing was that the bug also seemed to enjoy conversing with Lemm. Which one one hand was absolutely preposterous, on the other … it was a refreshing change.

The bug introduced himself as Quirrel, apprentice to Monomon the Teacher, and Lemm could hardly believe it. Monomon the Teacher, one of the most brilliant minds of Hallownest? It couldn’t be! And yet it was not all too difficult to imagine. He’d seen stranger things in these lands.

Quirrel also was the one who later suggested Lemm officially open the shop as a coffee shop again. Lemm had thrown him out at that and gone back to work.

Now, a short while later, he looked up and Quirrel was back, standing at the counter, watching Lemm silently.

Lemm rose and went to the front, choosing to stare back equally silently. Lemm was good at that. Probably.

‘So,’ Quirrel said at length, his voice still as annoyingly friendly as ever, ‘have you thought about it?’

Lemm kept staring.

Quirrel held up his hands. ‘You need money, you don’t have much else to do, and besides’ – Quirrel shrugged. – ‘people like your tea.’

‘I certainly have enough to do,’ Lemm started. ‘These texts don’t decipher themselves. What’s so funny?’

Quirrel stopped his giggling and said, ‘They sort of do. Have you forgotten who stands before you?’

‘You don’t read all of these languages.’ Really, Quirrel’s ego was getting on Lemm’s nerves.

‘But most of them,’ Quirrel said, shrugging, ‘and most of the Archive’s records are intact. And we do have a nice section on language and writing.’

Lemm was silent for a moment, mostly because he could not think of a good comeback. Quirrel had a point, and Lemm did not like that in the slightest.

‘Let’s make a deal,’ Quirrel said. ‘I help you translate your texts and catalogue your artefacts, and you’ – Quirrel jabbed a finger in Lemm’s direction – ‘you sell your tea officially.’

‘Out of the question.’

‘You’re already doing it.’

‘I am not!’

‘Yes, you are.’ Quirrel said this with absolute certainty and no anger, and there was a voice at the back of Lemm’s mind that said: You really sort of are. And you could use the help. You don’t like the busywork anyway.

‘All right,’ Lemm grumbled. ‘Deal.’

‘Thank you,’ said Quirrel, audibly grinning.

‘I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?’ Lemm asked under his breath.

‘I don’t think so,’ Quirrel said. ‘I’m curious – what else can you make? Tea alone is a bit boring, don’t you think?’

‘Shut up,’ Lemm said, ‘or I change my mind.’

* * *

Lemm did not change his mind, even though Quirrel didn’t shut up. It had been a while, and Lemm hated to admit it, but he enjoyed doing something different for a change. Customers were now plenty, and Lemm had a menu with more than one item, and his relic collection was no bigger, but more orderly and better understood than it had ever been, thanks to Quirrel’s – and the Archive’s – help.

Another thing that Lemm was not quite ready to admit was that people could be nice. The more he talked to customers, interacted with them, observed them, the more he began to appreciate them. He used to be content in reading historical texts and artefacts, preferring to learn about people that were dead and gone. Living bugs had never really interested him.

Nowadays, however, it seemed that people could be just as interesting to read as anything else. And, as Quirrel entered, greeting him, and he could not help his mood being lifted just by the prospect of learning something new and interesting that Quirrel learnt on his last trip to the Archive, Lemm supposed that sometimes, very rarely … people were something he could enjoy.

------------------------------- By @gardening-clown

------------------------------- By @buglife

Lemm was five seconds away from throwing someone through the window.

His shop was now occupied by five bugs of various species, talking, laughing, and sitting around when he could be in the back doing literally anything else. It took weeks of bugs thinking that his relic shop was a coffee one before he simply gave up and made peace with it. At least he got some geo from it to pay adventurers that did come by to sell legit relics. How they mistook his shop for a coffee one, he would have never guess.

All he had was a little brewer that was barely put back together that he scavenged from some random shop, but other bugs seemed to like it, for some strange reason. It wasn’t even good coffee he was making, but they seemed to accept it. After all, who else in this dead kingdom was even selling coffee? He had looted plenty of shops and took as many sacks of beans as he would when he first arrived, and there was no way he could drink them all, so he might as well do something with them.

But he was steadily losing his patience with the amount of bugs around him. They were talking and loitering. Loitering was probably the worst of it all as it made the loner bug feel his shell crawl with the forced social interaction. He just wanted them to leave. He couldn’t stand the feeling of a crowded space, which is why he went to a dead kingdom in the first place.

Hell, he had to take his beloved odds and ends down from the shelves to keep some curious bug from touching them all up with their dirty fingers and breaking something.

He found himself dreading the sound of the bell above his door, and when it rang he wondered if someone else was coming to ask him for some random drink or be an annoying thorn in his side.

To his hidden delight however, it was the little wanderer. They looked like a grub, to be honest, with a black body and a stark white horned shell for a head. The nail on their back seemed to be a little put together the last time he saw them, perhaps they visited the Nailsmith? He never asked for their name, he didn’t want to learn it to avoid attachments, but he found them oddly endearing. They liked to listen to him ramble about his theories on various relics they bring him, so they can’t be too bad. Plus they were quiet and polite, something he was immensely grateful for.

They bounced inside the door and came to a stop, looking at the five other bugs sitting around and chatting. They tilted their head to the side, watching the bugs for a moment before looking at Lemm. They stretched out a stubby arm from under their cloak and pointed at him.

Lemm sighed. Of course, the little Wanderer had been gone for a while, and obviously didn’t know what had become of his beloved shop. He gestured for them to come over, which they did and looked up at him expectantly.

“Bugs keep thinking that this is a coffee shop.” He explained. “So here they are, drinking coffee that I make on a terrible little brewer. I gave up trying to kick them all out all the time, it stopped being worth the effort.”

The little wanderer blinked a few times, looking somewhat confused. They pointed to the cup being held by the beetle on one of Lemm’s chairs and mimed the action of drinking it.

“Yes, that’s coffee they are drinking.” He raised a brow as he looked down at the grub. “Haven’t you ever seen coffee before?”

They shook their head.

“Really now? Hrm…” He wasn’t sure where the little wanderer had come from if they never saw coffee before. It was a fairly common drink besides tea. They must have grew up in a rather isolated place If they never saw it. He decided he might as well explain it, it would be better to do it now than later.

“Coffee is a drink that bugs like to drink to give them energy.” He saw them perk up a bit at the ‘energy’ part. “It’s rather bitter, so some like it with sugar. I like it plain. It keeps me awake when I am working.”

They somehow made a face when he said it was bitter, tilting their head and angling their eye holes to look affronted. Lemm squashed down a laugh at the expression and decided to get to business.

“Anyway, they trade me geo for it, which lets me compensate bugs that get me relics. Do you have any for me today?” He hoped they did, he needed something to brighten up his day.

The wanderer nodded, reaching under their cloak to pull out a black orb. Lemm recognized it immediately to be an arcane egg. He loved working with those. Peeling back each layer revealed new information and new discoveries. He was in fact, still working on the one he got weeks before. He needed to be careful with them, and he reveled in the intense focus and work it needed to discover it’s secrets. His day instantly got better.

“Very nice, I’ll be glad to take that off your hands for the usual price.” The old beetle held out his hand and the wanderer gently placed the egg it in. They held up a hand once it was free and shook their head, pointed to a cup sitting on the counter.

“Ah, you want to trade this for a cup of coffee?” He wasn’t going to say no to that. If the wanderer was okay with it, it was a perfectly reasonable business transaction. His suspicions were confirmed when they nodded and bounced in place, looking as excited as they were able to. “Well I can certainly do that.”

Thankfully, the two bugs occupying the chairs in front of the counter left, leaving behind their dirty cups and a few geo for the mess. They thanked him and he grumped out a ‘have a good day’ as they left, seemingly indifferent to his mood. Oh well, at least it brought down the occupancy to a more manageable level for his social batteries. He pushed the dirty cups out of the way and gestured to an open seat. “Here, sit down and I’ll get you a cup.”

They bounced upwards to take a seat, swinging their legs back and forth as they waited. It didn’t take Lemm long to throw some ground up beans and water into the grinder, watching the brewed coffee pour into a clean cup. He carefully carried the hot cup down and set it in front of the wanderer. “Be careful, it’s very hot. I’ll bring you some sugar, you didn’t seem to like the ‘bitter’ description.”

They nodded and watched as he pushed over a bowl of honey sugar and a spoon. It was the least he could do after they got him another arcane egg. “There you are, help yourself.”

They bowed their head in thanks and took up the spoon, poking it into the bowl.

“Excuse me,” One of the bugs by the window got up, the one with a bent antenna and holding their empty cup. “Could I get a refill, please?”

Lemm held back a sigh and nodded, taking the cup and heading back to his brewer. He had to smack it a couple times for it to start working again, but in the end he got a passable cup of coffee out of it. He returned just in timed to hear said bug exclaim, “Woah there buddy, you must really like sugar!”

He looked to the wanderer, who had added so much sugar to their cup of coffee, that he could hear the sugar that couldn’t dissolve scrape against the ceramic as it was stirred. It looked like fresh cement, there was only a bit of brown to denote that once, it was indeed a cup of coffee.

He wordlessly handed the other bug their coffee, who took it and retreated back to sit by the window. He was about to say something to the wanderer, when to his horror, their head tilted backwards. A maw of sharp black teeth opened wide, and he watched, astonished, as the mix of sugar and coffee oozed into their mouth and to who knows where. A long black tongue lashed out to get every last bit of sugar out of the cup, before the mouth closed with a quiet click. They must have felt him staring, because they turned to look at him with their fathomless, dark eyes. He stared back, wondering what the hell was actually sitting in front of him.

They then bounced in place and gave him a thumbs up. They made a shape of a heart with their hands, a way that they say ‘thank you’. They seemed rather happy.

“Um…you’re welcome?” He managed, after he gathered his composure again.

They sat still for a moment, seeming to ponder on what they had just consumed. He figured that they were probably trying to figure out if they liked it or not. He doubt they even managed to taste the coffee from the sheer amount of sugar in that cup.

Then, to his horror, they began to vibrate. At first it was a few twitches, and then it steadily became more and more severe, until they were a literal blur. The chair rattled under the stress and the bugs that remained in the shop turned to look at the commotion.

It was then, Lemm realized he fucked up.

They suddenly dashed away, slamming into the shop door with such force that it caved outwards. There was only the short sound of shattering glass and the scream of metal before it flew off it’s hinges and rattled down the hallway. He could hear the hurried pitter-patter of the wanderer’s tiny feet, now fast enough to blur into one continuous sound, race down the hall and out of sight and hearing.

He just stood there, looking at the wreckage of his shop door, wondering where the hell is he going to get a replacement, if there even was a replacement. He looked at the three shocked bugs, standing and looking at the wreckage, and then he got himself an idea.

“Hey fellas,” He said, as he turned and looked at the bugs next to the window. “How would you all like some free coffee if you find me a door?”

------------------------------- By @radical-mudkips

------------------------------- By @unregisteredcookie

Lemm's 'shop' was empty.

Actually, no, that… that wasn't right. Lemm's shop wasn't a shop in the first place--it was a haven for relics and ancient knick-knacks, and the shelves were filled to overflowing with stone tablets and peculiar eggs that held unimaginable information. Not that Lemm was ever able to crack into the eggs' shells, but he knew--he knew there was more treasured information sleeping beneath. If only he were able to open it up without risking that information being damaged.

And that wasn't right, either. The shop being empty, that was. Right now, the shelves were empty, but that was less because of the absence of relics and more because they were all stowed away in the back room to be sorted. He had a notebook he was combing over, quill in hand as he scribbled out little bits of information that might relate to one another.

'Might', because Lemm wasn't really from Hallownest. So he didn't know for sure whether this smooth L-shaped contraption was a door handle or a piece to a lost work of art.

It was while Lemm was scribbling about in this journal bound in parchment (hand-made and flimsy, using the paper he found around the area that was clean and allowed to dry) that he heard it: The distant clattering of the elevator. There were about seven options he could think of off of the top of his head, each more dreaded than the last. It could be that scarcely-seen Nailsmith who seemed to know more about the history of this ruin than he let on. It could be the peculiar little silent bug that stared up at him now and again, the one that sometimes passed by with a relic to sell. It could be that talkative windbag, droning on and on in his droning voice, so grating and persistent that Lemm struggled to ignore him. He was probably the worst.

Lemm stopped writing, tilted his head, and listened for the telltale sound. The rattling stopped, and all that he heard for a while was silence. And then.

Ding.

He sighed, getting to his feet. A customer it was, then. How delightful. Here's hoping that the customer wasn't 'Zote the Mighty'.

He had a small moment of dread when he saw the horn, a critical blow of dismay that tempted him to retreat back into the back room and pretend to be out for a walk, but then he saw the second horn and breathed a sigh of relief. Oh, it wasn't the Zote person after all. It was… them. The other little one.

They looked up at him as he approached the register and looked down at them. Their eyes were vacant as ever, face impossibly unreadable. Lemm doubted that he'd ever get used to it.

Lemm liked this little bug, if for no other reason than they were quiet, kept their hands to themself, and brought him relics to purchase. They were the only one willing to sell these relics, and they were the only reason Lemm often said what he said next.

"Cup of coffee, or looking to sell?"

He never had much company in this place until the Nailsmith (Lemm never caught his name, never bothered asking, really) first came in looking for materials for his smithing. Almost took one of Lemm's Pale Idols from under his beard while he was noting in his journal. After the initial yelling that followed and a cup of coffee, the Nailsmith apologized by paying for the cup. And he did it again. And again. Until the mapmaker came in, saw, and bought a cup himself. Until the hooded pillbug came in, hummed, and bought one for himself. And then--

Well. And then he had a coffee shop.

Lemm wished he could say that he hated it, and he did, at first. But over time, he found the company rather pleasant. Besides, the geo paid for this little bug's relic collection well enough, so he wasn't complaining.

So. Did they want a cup of coffee, or did they want to sell their relics? Lemm didn't get an answer. Instead, they looked around at the empty shelves for a moment before turning their empty eyes back onto him, tilting their head to the side slightly.

It took Lemm a moment.

"Oh, I moved the relics into the back room," he said. "I've been needing to work on sorting them out and writing notes about them. Never would I have thought that I would have so many to study."

Satisfied, they reached into the confines of their cloak. Lemm leaned forward a little, watching as they rummaged about for a moment, heart skipping a beat as he pondered what sort of relic they were going to sell this time.

And then they withdrew their small hand, reached up, and dropped a fist full of geo onto the counter.

Lemm blinked and stared at the geo for a moment. Something wispy and thin clung to them, and when he picked it up and opened the register, it was sticky. Was this webbing? Lemm wasn't aware of there being any spiders in Hallownest, aside from maybe that red-cloaked bug he saw very rarely flitting about outside his window.

So. No relics today. Fine, at least he'd have more money to buy another one later.

"One coffee coming up," he murmured, rummaging around behind the counter. Underneath the register was where he kept the coffee pot, which he refrained from moving just so he could be prepared if a 'customer' came by. He busied himself with it for a few moments, filling the filter and checking the water, before clicking the button and letting it steep. Granted, he didn't know what kind of coffee they'd drink, but they didn't make it clear anyway, so he doubted that it mattered.

Besides. They seemed a little preoccupied by something else at the moment. After a few minutes, the coffee was finished, and Lemm poured them a cup. He chose a caramel-like flavor, because they seemed about the size of a child and a little bit of sweetness never hurt anyone. Lemm reached over the counter and held it out to them, which they took in their hands and stared down at for a moment. Lemm was about ready to head back into the back when it happened. A crack. It almost sounded like something breaking, but when he turned to look behind himself at the small knight, they still stood there. Another crack, one that made his fur stand on end and his body stiffen, and Lemm caught the glimpse of something sharp and white shifting beneath the bottom of their mask.

A mouth?

They tilted their head back. A jaw opened. Many layers of teeth glimmered in the dim light, cracking as they did so, the noise chilling him through his chitin and making his hemolymph freeze. Lemm stood there, stock still, as they lifted the cup up to their face, jaw extending outwards to drink it, and then-- --they set the scalding hot coffee in their mouth, cup and all, closed it, and crunched.

Lemm had never seen a bug eat a cup of coffee before. He could still hear the crunch, crunch, crunching, muffled and quiet and growing quieter, noise sounding like a particularly crunchy tiktik being eaten.

Lemm shuddered. When the knight looked back at him, he turned around quickly and went into the back room.

Okay. Suddenly they weren't the second most welcome sight for sore eyes. Suddenly Lemm wished that it was that talking, yapping Zote fellow who came in instead.

------------------------------- By @doodle-chris

------------------------------- By @payasita

There was no shortage of open real estate as far as the City of Tears was concerned. But that certainly didn't make every option an equally viable living space.

First, Lemm wanted something enclosed away from the rain, and insulated enough to stave off the humidity. That discounted anything open to the outside, as he wouldn't risk his relics to even the threat of exposure. A leaking roof dripping down onto crumbling tablets or fragile spider silk could devastate hundreds of years worth of history, so that also discounted any room without a few protective floors above it.

Next, it had to be out of the way of any and all shambling husks and infected critters. They weren't the brightest of creatures, so a room only accessible by elevator was ideal. He'd never seen anything plague-cursed have enough wherewithal to operate one, and the noise of it would give him plenty warning of visitors otherwise.

Lastly, he wanted someplace with plenty of shelf space. He needed little in the way of actual living space, so long as he had ample storage room set up in such a way that things could easily be organized.

All of these qualities described, in his opinion, the ideal relic storage and research dwelling. And in the end, he was lucky enough to find it.

Unearthing the previous tenant's belongings informed him that it also, apparently, described the ideal setup for a small café. On his first day in his new residence, he'd uncovered an antique coffee machine and a few other ancient tools, kept miraculously free of rust and wear. The room's conditions must be far better than he thought.

He'd dusted his findings off and set them back up on the counter, having quickly deduced where they'd once been put to use through old nicks and rings left on the shellwood by years of service. Lemm had felt a small swell of pride at finding this small bit of the city's history, and began a set of notes on his theories about this tower complex and its surrounding culture from everything he found around. Perhaps the whole place had been a shopping centre.

On the second day, he pried open the crates in the back room, and they had spilled forth bags upon bags of beans and teas. There were so many of them that he was able to rationalize cutting one open and examining its contents without much guilt. The beans were coffee, that much was obvious at a glance.

Biological samples weren't exactly his area of expertise, but smell and texture alone all but convinced him that they'd been perfectly preserved in their airtight prisons, well dried and perfectly edible.

Most likely.

For the sake of research, and because the bag was already open, he put them through the machine. He committed some time to studying the machine beforehand, as he was afraid mishandling it may destroy it. But an hour of trying to figure the damn thing out was frustrating enough that he finally reasoned that if he did break it, he could at least take it apart and examine its insides for anything interesting. Lemm was a relic keeper, not a tinker. So he winged it with a bit of rainwater and the beans, and got wet beans and hot murky water all over the counter to show for it. He figured out the grinder and filter after his second attempt, and by the third, he had a mug of fresh coffee to show for his efforts. The scent that filled his shop and the outside corridor must have been nothing Hallownest had experienced in centuries. Lemm had little taste for the stuff himself, but in his experimentation he'd gone and made a whole pot. So he supposed he needed to acquire a taste for it rather quickly.

Luckily for his health, that turned out to be unnecessary. The smell, perhaps amplified in the ever-present petrichor, quickly attracted guests of the still-living variety. There turned out to be far more travelers and treasure hunters bumping around this old city than he'd initially expected, prone to tucking himself away in solitude as he was. Introverted or no, he happily gave the coffee away rather than waste it or risk giving himself a coronary. There were even a great deal of disposable mugs stacked away that just made it all the more convenient.

Just over the course of an hour, Lemm was graced with a fair amount of odd characters intruding on his doorstep. There was a surly fellow wielding a metal shield of some foreign make, who announced his intentions towards finding and conquering Hallownest's old colosseum. He was convinced it was still in operation somewhere. Lemm decided that if it was, the place was more than likely not populated with the sorts of honorable warriors this poor bastard was looking to prove himself against, but he kept his thoughts to himself and sent the boy off with a steaming cup of acrid bean water. Next came another traveller who gave off a more scholarly air than the first had, and who carried a more conventional weapon at his hip. The pill bug certainly acted more like a student than a warrior, all bright-eyed and curious and talkative. But no doubt he must know how to use that nail of his to have survived this far down and still be so cheerful. His stay wasn't entirely unpleasant; the two actually talked a short while about Hallownest's history and their shared learnings. The bug even tried to insist on paying, but Lemm was adamant that his reliquary wasn't a damn breakfast nook, thank you, keep your geo. But if he really wanted to pay, Lemm would certainly take any interesting artifact or trinket the bug happened to pick up on his travels. They eventually came to an agreement: A journal pilfered from a shrine somewhere in Greenpath for an extra cup for the road. Lemm's next visitor was, of all things, a cartographer. This one was far too involved in his work for much conversation, which was fine by Lemm. But he did manage to barter a cup for a map of the city. It was incomplete and bare of any landmarks, much to Lemm's disappointment. Finally, an odd little wanderer walked in almost soundlessly. They did not speak to Lemm, nor did they give any indication that they were here for any specific reason. But they had acquired an old city crest and a King's idol on their path, and Lemm had a more typical exchange of geo for relics with them. And then because it was the last of the coffee in the still warm pot, and because the little wanderer did not refuse, he sent them off with a cup on their way out. Thankful to be rid of all the blasted coffee and done with the uptick in social interaction, he then washed the pot and continued with his normal studies. It was nice and quiet, now.

But then the next morning, the pill bug returned. And he was surprised (and clearly disappointed) to see the coffee pot empty. It was a shame, he'd said. For he'd gone and found himself another journal, and considered a relic he couldn't use for a hot morning's drink to be a fine deal indeed. Lemm was inclined to agree, for how it saved him his geo in case of a more potentially significant find down the line. He turned the machine back on at once at the prospect. Unfortunately, he didn't know how to brew just one cup, and was still rightfully intimidated by the old, fussy contraption, and not inclined to mess with what worked. So he made another full pot, and talked shop.

The pill bug wasn't the only one to return that day. The would-be gladiator came back, still not having found his destination, and had the gall to just expect another drink. After the deal he'd just made, Lemm was feeling markedly less generous than he had been the day before, and informed his nasally guest that he'd have to barter something old and interesting for it.

The ant grumbled and left, but returned a few minutes later with a guardsman's crest. He'd apparently seen old treasures all over the place, but had found it beneath him to go and pick them up." A warrior has no need to weigh himself down with baubles," he'd sneered over his cup. Lemm privately thought that the plague-crazed beasts who were doubtlessly running the colosseum now would soon show this haughty kid what they cared for his warrior’s creed in due time, so he said nothing.

The silent wanderer came later. This time when they held up an ancient journal, they made no move to take the geo held out to them. They only stared at Lemm, with their little mask so perfectly unmoving he could easily think them a sudden corpse. Then his hand drifted towards the pot, and the creature set the journal down on the counter.

"...News of a relic keeper bartering goods for coffee has already spread among your lot, then? I suppose even wanderers must have a rumor mill," Lemm talked to himself while pouring their cup. Predictably, they padded away without an answer, drink in hand. Lemm would soon learn how right he was.

- The coming days were more lucrative than his business had ever been. All the travellers he'd met before all came back with various oddities found around Hallownest, as did anyone new. Though not everyone quite understood what constituted a relic, and Lemm had to turn down more than a few shiny rocks and petrified lake detritus. But they all got the routine down soon enough. And, well, Lemm did have an extraordinary amount of coffee that'd just go to waste for another thousand years otherwise, so, may as well.

The pill bug, Quirrel, came to be his best "customer", though Lemm would be twice damned before he ever said the word aloud. Either way, Quirrel often stayed long enough just chatting to warrant a second cup.

"I ought to have you bring double the treasure," Lemm griped once while handing that second cup over. Quirrel's response was a good natured laugh.

"Perhaps elsewhere, that'd be fair. Coffee was a luxury in some lands, and remains so to this day, but by my understanding it was quite in abundance here. Though I couldn't tell you where in the world they must have been growing it," he mused. Lemm raised a brow, wondering once again where in gods' names this bug was educated. But as asking would be an invitation to hear his life story, Lemm deferred.

"Is that right?" he asked instead, "I don't care for the stuff myself, luxury or no." "Really? Not an uncommon opinion, I suppose. I picked it up as a habit at one point... Though, I couldn't tell you when, now that I think of it," Quirrel trailed off, adjusting the oversized mask over his head. Lemm found it an odd choice of protection from the rain, though he supposed it was better than nothing. He only shrugged, "I hear many students do make a habit of caffeine. Your sorts can never get enough hours out of the day."

Quirrel stared at him for a brief moment, and then huffed a laugh again. "Student? You mistake me, sir. I've only ever been a traveller for as long as I can remember."

Lemm didn't bother to mask his surprise, and Quirrel's eyes crinkled. "You're right on that second part, though. So much to see, and never enough time." He took a sip.

The mapmaker came back one day with an order for two drinks. He had no relics, but offered an extra inkwell and quill instead. Lemm found equipment for keeping good notes was lucky to come by, and reluctantly made the trade, much to the old bug's gratitude.

"Thank you, the second is for my wife running our shop surface-side. It was her suggestion you might want materials for your research."

Lemm cleared his throat, blustering slightly under his beard.

"Ahh. Hm. I can appreciate that, then."

"Oh, on that note, have you any sugar you can add in for her?" The bug peered over Lemm’s shoulder, which rankled him for some reason.

"...I did find a jar back here somewhere, I think." Though he couldn't promise it was good. Could sugar go bad? It still just looked like white sand.

"Thank you. ...Err, actually, is that a box of tea on the shelf, there?"

Lemm paused in his rummaging, and looked back at the open storeroom door. The room now made a good home for his relics, though he never bothered unpacking the open crates.

"...It is," he eyed the bug neutrally.

"Ah. Iselda enjoys her coffee, though I quite prefer a good cup of tea myself. ...Erm, if it isn't too much trouble, of course," the bug grinned politely over folded hands.

Lemm, to his credit, did not sigh. There was indeed a kettle back there, too. And at least he knew how to brew tea without making an entire day's worth of it.

He brought up the jar of sugar, and leveled the bug with a grumpy look.

"Fine. But next time, you bring relics."

The cartographer acquiesced immediately, and that was the point where Lemm realized he'd invited them both to expect a "next time".

The silent wanderer came back again, on the tail of a group of treasure hunters who came in and left up the elevator. Shortly after, there was the sound of struggle above them.

This had become commonplace. Anyone who showed up had to contend with the violent husks above and beyond the shop, and some were more prepared to deal with the dangers of Hallownest than others. Lemm only poured the wanderer's cup in bored silence, tuning out the thumping and shouts above. "You know this stuff stunts your growth, right?" Lemm asked flatly. The wanderer only ever stared.

"Dehydrates you, too. You active types probably ought to stick to water. Imagine having to deal with the horrors of rotting sentries and whatnot with a diuretic sloshing about in you." Unbothered, they leaned forward and took their cup in both hands, still staring up while he spoke. Lemm honestly had no idea if they even understood him, and considered the possibility that their muteness was compounded by a language barrier. But they at least always made the effort to appear attentive.

There was a thundering crash above them that made Lemm flinch, and then a silence that kept him tense. The voices started up once again after a few seconds, and the sound of footsteps hurrying away as fast as they could. By his guess, his last customers had just had a very close encounter with a belfly. He'd likely not be seeing them again.

He turned his attention back down to the wanderer with a sigh.

"...Let me see what you have, then."

The tiny thing set their cup carefully down by their feet, and fished a genuine void egg from the depths of their grubby cloak. Lemm was struck with the brief impulse to give them the entire coffee machine for it.

There was a new visitor one morning, just as Lemm brewed the pot for his regulars. He rarely got anyone so very early, and was guiltily nursing his own cup of acrid sugary heart disease before anyone would be around to see. Alright, so he'd acquired the taste for it. It was hardly unreasonable with how much time he spent around the smell, and it helped him make up for lost time studying his relics later in the night. Perfectly understandable, and so he definitely did not freeze mid sip like he was caught in a crime when the door opened unexpectedly. The red-clad stranger who walked in wore a wicked-sharp needle slung across her back, and fixed him with an even sharper gaze.

"...I hear you sell tea." Her voice was quiet enough, but cut clear without the normal hesitant lilt of a question.

Lemm slowly put down his mug, and the soft thunk it made against the countertop sounded awfully loud in the morning lull.

"...I don't sell anything. I buy," he insisted.

The altogether frightening lass glanced between him, the full coffee pot, and the kettle sat next to a stack of assorted loose leaf teas. Then back at him.

He grunted, hiding an inane flush of indignation behind another swig of his drink.

"...I seek artifacts. Relics of this place's past, and anything that may help me understand it, for geo. ...Or for a cuppa, for those who'd rather." He shifted behind the counter, nearly trailing off into a mumble. But at this point, there wasn’t much use in fighting his reputation.

The girl just scrutinized him until she seemed to come to a decision. She then turned and left without saying anything else, opting to hop down the elevator shaft rather than waste a moment calling the lift.

Lemm rolled his eyes and gulped down the dregs of his coffee, vaguely annoyed. By this point, he was used to the rude and half feral sorts of vagabonds that only came by out of curiosity. At least she was quick about leaving.

All the better for him, as far as he was concerned. He doubted such a young thing would have anything of note to share with Hallownest's foremost historian.

#telephoneknight #hollowknight #hollow knight #RelicCoffeeAu #lemm #tiso #ghost #quirrel

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y0itsbri · 3 years ago

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Hi Bri 🥰

C-16 if you'd like to 👀

Coffee dates and disasters

au with college!lip and barista!mandy where ian is a frequent visitor at the campus café and meets mickey under rather unfortunate circumstances. don't cry over spilled milk, buddy.

which also fits under a.u.gust for @gallavichthings

words: 2.4k

"never would have thought you the type to come to one of these places," ian mused, looking around the small café with only lamps and string lights illuminating the space. "can't believe college changed you, man," ian clutched at his heart dramatically.

"don't worry. 'm still the annoying bastard you love so dearly," lip squeezed ian's shoulder before he sauntered up to the counter.

the barista's bored expressed brightened when she saw them. her perky demeanor was matched by a high pitched voice, "hey lip," she smiled, dark lipstick striking. she appraised ian with a somewhat predatory eye, "hello, lip's friend."

"uh, brother," ian coughed.

lip rolled his eyes, "and he's gay so don't even try it, mandy."

she pouted and flicked her hair behind her shoulder, "not that it's any of your business, anyways."

ian chuckled besides him, drawing another smile out of mandy, this one kinder, sweeter.

"what can i get you boys?"

the pink highlights glistened in her dark hair as she whipped up lip's cold brew and ian's caramel macchiato, then proceeded to insist that this one is on the house. neither of them argued, but thanked her before they settled down in some stools by the window.

"fucking the barista privileges?" ian asked, raising his eyebrow at his slut of a brother.

"i think of it more like fellow south sider charity," he rubbed his bottom lip, "but yours works too," lip smirked around the edges of his coffee cup.

"you're an idiot."

"can a man who got us free drinks really be deemed an idiot?" lip philosophized.

ian paused, taking a moment of thorough consideration. he looked lip straight in the eyes as he answered, "if that man is you, then without a doubt."

lip tried to knock ian's cup out of his hand, but failed at his attempt. ian thanked his well-practiced jrotc skills and a lifetime experience of growing up in a house packed with annoying siblings for his victory.

they chatted about the robotics classes lip was taking, how he got full-time access to one of the labs, and his weird ass roommate who may or may not be gay if ian is at all interested. ian scrunched up his face. after hearing so many horror stories about the guy, ian didn't want anywhere near him. he wasn't that desperate yet.

the second that lip was out of his seat and heading to the bathroom, the beautiful mess that was mandy descended.

"hiiii lip's gay brother," she leaned against the table.

"it's ian," he spun his empty cup in his hands. he couldn't help himself from smiling at her charisma.

"well hi, ian, i just wanted to say sorry if i spooked you earlier. i just had no idea lip's brother would be so cute!"

"his ugly mug's not too hard to beat." ian laughed. "he got the short end of the gallagher stick, literally."

"cute and charming. you're funny, ian gallagher, i like you." she placed her hand on his shoulder for a moment, a movement so soft compared to her rather frantic appearance. "come back here anytime and it's on the house, yeah? i work most evenings after three."

"oh. uh- okay," ian scrambled for words, "thanks."

she squeezed his shoulder once before lip returned with a rather obnoxious entrance.

"ayo mands, stop harassing him!"

ian ducked his head in embarrassment.

"oh, shut up! i'm just clearing your cups," she winked at ian as she left.

mandy was something else. but she was kind and good company. ian could get used to the chill atmosphere over the chaos of the gallagher house anytime. he might just take up her offer.

"you'd think with all the time you spend here, you'd be offered a scholarship or something by now." mandy sipped on her chocolate frappuccino as she laid her feet across ian's lap. he always made sure to come visit during her breaks at least twice a week during the past couple months.

ian shrugged, "guess they only had room for one gallagher."

mandy hit his arm in a way that hurt. lip was fucked if he ever broke her heart.

"does fiona even know that this is where you sneak off to?"

"yeah." mandy's look said she didn't believe him. "well, kinda. she thinks i'm visiting lip, brotherly duties and all."

"yeah? how are those brotherly duties?"

"fuck if i know."

she laughed.

"i still think you should apply here for next fall," she encouraged, "could take some art classes."

"i suck at art."

"chemistry?"

"failed that."

"business?"

"yeah, no thanks."

mandy flipped him off, "fine. botany?

"ya know what? sure." he had always wanted to grow tomatoes.

"really?!"

"heart wants what it wants, mandy. we can't all be psychology brainiacs."

"brains and beauty, what can i say?" she teased. ian laughed, eyes glistening towards his friend. mandy made things better.

"hey," she continued, "there's this concert on the main campus lawn this weekend, you should totally come!"

"isn't that just for students?"

"they don't card, dummy."

"right, right, i knew that."

"sureeee. you in?"

ian mentally checked his work schedule.

"i'm in."

lip and ian strolled into the café a few days later. okay, maybe ian had felt a bit guilty for abandoning his brotherly duties lately, but at least this way he could hang out with both his best friends. well he could have if he remembered the fact that mandy had the day off for her behavioral neuroscience midterm. they had literally spent her previous shift reviewing the terms, he should have known.

ian's couldn't help his face from falling as another blonde barista took their orders, mostly eyeing lip the whole time.

"hi lip," she smiled a little too sincerely, "what can i get for you today?"

ian had ordered something new at the recommendation of the blonde and he was not a fan. and to make matters worse, he had to actually pay for the atrocity that he wouldn't even be able to finish.

"so how's your little coffee dates with mandy?" lip asked over his cup.

ian nearly choked on his god-awful americano. "how'd you know?"

"please. she's obsessed with you. every time i see her, it's 'ian this,' 'ian that,' 'ian might apply here in next year.'"

"oh."

"yeah, oh. when were you gonna tell me?!"

“it’s all mandy’s idea, i’m not even sure i want to,” ian muttered, refusing to make eye contact.

“dude, i’ve literally shared a room with you since the day you popped out of monica’s wretched womb, you think I can’t tell when you’re lying?”

okay maybe ian had been getting increasingly more excited about the idea of attending school and actually learning things that he wants to learn. something that might actually lead him somewhere real since rotc was looking more and more like a poor man's fantasy the more that he thought about it.

“I was gonna tell you, swear on it.” and he was. once he convinced himself that lip wasn't going to straight up laugh in his face. but the look in his eye seemed genuinely supportive.

“mhm, i gotta catch my english lit class," lip stood up, swinging his tattered tan backpack across one shoulder. he patted ian's shoulder in his big brother ways, "don’t be a stranger, yeah?”

“yeah, yeah for sure! have fun learning a language you already know!” lip flipped him off at his smartass remark.

soon after, ian stood up to return his drink to the counter, the anxiety from the conversation making him entirely lose whatever appetite he might have had. plus, it wasn’t the same here without lip or mandy. he just wanted to be wrapped up in a cocoon in his own bed. but that was so far away. maybe he could catch an early ride—

thump.

ian crashed into a guy’s sturdy body.

the remnants of his shitty drink spilled in an americano nightmare over both of them, ceramic pieces shattering on the floor in a truly horrific manner.

ian yipped and the other man let out a grunt of irritation.

they were fucking soaked. well, at least the coffee wasn't hot? ian tried justifying the situation, but, nah, this was bad.

"shit! i'm so sorry, lemme," ian reached out and the shorter man flinched away.

they were now far enough apart that ian got a good look at him. a leather jacket.. now covered in ian's drink -- shit. and shockingly piercing blue eyes that lingered too long on ian's before his cheeks turned a shade of pink that made ian's stomach flutter.

he might have seemed cold if he didn’t make ian feel so warm.

"it’s cool, man. i gotta go, uh," and he walked out of the café without looking back.

fuck.

ian smelled like coffee the entire train ride to the back of the yards. he laid in his bed regretting his entire life.

no mandy. no lip. no dignity.

the day of the concert that mandy had invited him to rolled around. ian wouldn’t admit it, but he was nervous to spend a coffee-less evening with mandy, their entire friendship built inside that one room. his little bubble of safety was bursting.

well, to be honest, the bubble had burst the moment that his disaster of a coffee was spilled onto one of the most ridiculously pretty guys that he's ever seen. every time he closed his eyes, he remembered the guy’s face shift from hostile to something else. he was torn between wanting to know the his name and also on never seeing him again in fear that he would simply pass away of embarrassment.

hopefully mandy hadn't heard about it. they may not have been friends for a long time, but he already knew that she would never let him live it down.

"hey ian!" her familiar voice called. that sounded promising.

his face fell with relief as he finally spotted her at the corner. she embraced him in a warm hug before pulling back and giving him a once over.

"huh, could have sworn you'd still have coffee behind your ear or something after the description karen gave me of your little disaster the other day." she smirked, quite literally double checking behind his ears as they turned hot under her gaze.

"ugh, fuck, how much did she tell you?" he itched his forehead and scrunched up his nose.

"oh, calm your tits, it's funny as fuck." she giggled, punching his arm in a way that still unintentionally hurt.

"whatever. are you excited for the concert tonight?"

their reunion conversation lulled eventually, and ian noticed that they weren't necessarily standing alone.

no. fucking. way.

just his luck, if he was being honest. he probably deserved this.

there he stood. the man that has plagued his dreams the past few days. in a light wash jean jacket that was a little tight on the biceps, leaning casually against the wall, kicking the pebbles on the ground with his boot.

"uh, what's he doing here?" ian gestured towards the victim of The Coffee Incident.

“what, you know him?” mandy asked, walking them towards him.

“vaguely.” if that wasn’t the understatement of the year.

"huh. i didn’t think my idiot brother had any friends."

brother? how did ian not realize she had a brother?

"what, did you think i was going to babysit you all night? i can't let everyone here thinking you're my boyfriend, no offense or whatever, but you're in good hands!" she kissed his cheek, clearly not helping her own not-looking-like-her-boyfriend rule.

ian eyed said brother's good hands only to see the faded letters of FUCK U-UP on them. oh.

mandy pushed ian over to her brother, "ian, mickey. mickey, ian," she introduced before pushing and shuffling her way through the crowd of college students to find herself someone’s cheap ass fruity alcohol to mooch off of.

mickey. ian's brain repeated over and over, a chime against the murmuring sea of voices they found themselves enveloped by.

"nice jacket," ian pointed out, an awkward attempt to converse before shoving his hands back in his pockets.

"it's my second favorite." the corners of his mouth lifted like there was more to the statement. ian took the bait, as if he could resist.

"what's your first?"

"first is still airing out the fuckin’ coffee smell," he smirked as ian groaned. "oh c’mon, man, don't go crying over spilled milk."

how could he not? on the bright side, he didn’t seemed to hate ian for it.

“if it was anyone else,” mickey drawled, “they’d have to get a beat down for it.”

“why do I get a free pass?” ian mused.

“well, you’re mandy’s friend, right?”

“yup,” ian tried to suppress his disappointment. he really did. but fiona always told him he wore his heart on his sleeve.

“yeah, that ain’t why, though,” his eyebrows waggled suggestively and ian nearly felt his heart drop out of his ass.

ian blessed whatever coffee god was out there for sending him both mandy and the beautiful man in front of him.

“you wanna go listen to the band?” ian nodded his head towards the stage with passionate players jumping around like they were playing lollapalooza or some shit.

“lead the way, stud, just try to keep your drinks off of me this time,” mickey knocked into ian’s own flannel covered shoulder.

yeah, ian couldn’t believe his luck. maybe karma was finally on his side.

—

mandy smirked at her brother and best friend not-so-subtly checking each other out over the course of the night, bopping their heads to the music and downing whatever free booze they could get their hands on.

she hoped that adding mickey to the equation would be enough incentive to convince ian to stick around. things were better when he was near.

the way that ian followed mickey around like a lost puppy with that dopey moon-eyed look, it seemed like her hopes would come true.

and when both ian and mickey strolled into the café to come visit her at work the next week, mickey in his worse-for-wear leather jacket and ian in borrowed denim, she thanks the coffee gods for her luck.

#did i spin this into a whole au instead of just something simple and sweet? of course!#i like reading cheesy shit so i will write cheesy shit #also i hope i didn't unconsciously steal the ideas of anyone else's works -- if so it was unintentional #okay i'm not a ✨writer✨ so it takes me a little bit so actually get some words out -- thank you for the ask! i hope you don't hate it! lol #also mickey never goes in the cafe while his sister is working — hence why ian had never seen him and the other baristas don’t know #his relation to mandy #there's like... not much gallavich??? idk lmfao #my posts #shameless #gallavich #ask #bazgallaghermilkovich #coffee shop au #shameless fanfic #gallavich fanfic #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey #mandy milkovich #lip gallagher #karen jackson #college lip #barista mandy

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demonsandco · 3 years ago

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Okay okay we know with their demon forms it requires a lot of upkeep now what do you think they would do and what they need help with. Cause what comes to mind is a family grooming session 😊

I love this ask thank youuuu. I wasn't sure if you wanted their canon forms, but this is mostly based on my own personal headcanons for their demon forms! I hope you don’t mind that :) It would be much easier for them to handle their insane forms, but what's the fun in that?

Before I start, all demon horns need constant maintenance. Demon horns never actually stop growing, so routine sanding, usually with a custom shaped whetstone, is important to keep horns smooth and to keep them from getting too long. Without proper care, horns can easily become overgrown and asymmetrical, as well as gain a rough, dry and almost scaly texture, which is rather uncomfortable for the demon in question

All other forms of upkeep vary from demon to demon, depending on what features they have (ei. scales, feathers, fur, hair, etc.).

Lucifer

Lucifer's horns are rather easy to reach, curling forward along the sides of his head, so it's fairly simple for him to keep them maintained himself. It's something that he does often, especially because neglecting them could easily impact his image. After all, it's common to see him bring out his demon form to intimidate others, and he wants to make sure he looks well put together. Caring for his horns is not much different than shaving his face in the morning, nothing more than a quick and simple part of his routine.

The thing that actually gives Lucifer trouble is his wings and tail. General self care is something he can handle easily, but feathers naturally wear down and need to be replaced, which means molting. Molting leaves him feeling absolutely miserable. His entire back starts looking patchy and he feels itchy and irritated all over, but he can never seem to properly reach the areas giving him trouble himself. His pride tends to get in the way of asking for help, so he's often left to suffer through it until the new feathers finish growing in.

Lucifer would need to trust someone quite a bit in order to let them help, but it's always a huge relief to have that itchiness soothed by a caring hand. Most often, Mammon ends up being the one to help out. Not only is the second born the only other one who still has feathers, but he's also very skilled at reading Lucifer's moods and telling when he needs help. They never speak about it afterwards, but it's a much needed binding experience for both of them.

(The rest are under the cut)

Mammon

Being a model, Mammon takes very good care of his appearance. Unfortunately, no matter how many times he does it, his horns always give him an insane amount of trouble. They're very tightly coiled and rest at a slightly backwards angle, making it difficult for Mammon to reach the inside parts of his horns. It's not uncommon to see him sulking his way over to Asmodeus' room for help with those hard to reach areas, after spending hours trying to do it himself and failing.

Other than his horns, Mammon has it pretty easy. Like Lucifer, he has to deal with molting, but it never seems to last too long for him, much to the eldest's envy. His wings are also featherless, so molting is nowhere near as uncomfortable for him. The only big feathers he needs to worry about replacing are the ones on his tail. The rest are much smaller and less irritating to regrow.

His wings and other featherless areas do need extra care, though, in the form of moisturizing. Without protection from feathers, those areas get dry and cracked easily, especially if he goes flying. To deal with it, he's got a pretty big collection of scented moisturizing lotions and oils that he can pick from, most of which were gifts from Asmodeus, since they have similar wings.

Leviathan

Levi's demon form is rather unique compared to his brothers. Instead of having true horns, he has antlers. Rather than needing constant care, his horns grow to their full size, shed their outer layer of skin and then eventually fall off to start the process again. Levi often goes to the ocean to isolate himself when his horns are ready to fall. He usually lets them sink to the bottom, where they take the form of the devildom equivalent of coral, providing shelter for aquatic life.

On top of shedding his horns, he also sheds his skin. His sheds are entirely determined by his horns, happening once when the antlers are full grown and ready to lose their protective, velvety skin, and again later on when they're ready to fall. While his antlers' life cycle is reminiscent of a deer's, the shedding of his skin is very similar to a snake's shed. It's not hard to tell when Levi is close to shedding. The old skin begins to separate itself from his new scales, giving him a dull gray sheen over his body and his eyes begin to look dull and glazed over.

It's definitely not a pleasant feeling and he can't see very well through the skin either, so he tends to avoid his brothers. High humidity is also needed for him to shed properly, so if he can't go hide out at sea, Levi's going to lock himself in his room and soak miserably in his bathtub.

Satan

Satan's self care routine isn't too difficult, but it's definitely the most time consuming and he absolutely hates it. He's not the most patient demon, especially when it comes to tasks that he thinks are wasting his time. When it's time for him to maintain his more demonic features, Satan needs to put aside an entire day for it.

Satan's horns are easy enough for him to handle. The inside part of the sharp curve of them often gives him some trouble, but he's nothing if not stubborn, so he usually manages to sort it out on his own. Horns on their own are rather time-consuming to care for, but what really takes up all of Satan's time is the multiple other horn-like protrusions along his body, as well as his tail. He's got boney spikes in the areas that his bones are closer to the skin (elbows, spine, ribs, jaw, etc.) and, like regular horns, they're constantly growing.

Whether he likes it or not, he always ends up needing to ask someone for help, and that someone usually ends up being Asmo. Not only is the process tedious, but he also has a very hard time reaching the spines on his back properly, so a helping hand is very useful.

Asmodeus

Unsurprisingly, Asmo has a very in depth routine that he follows to a t. Every week, he sets aside an evening to take care of his horns and wings specifically, sanding down his horns to keep them smooth and shiny, and moisturizing his wings with oils and lotions to keep the skin supple and soft. Being related to scorpions, Asmo also has a carapace in his true form that resembles the exoskeleton of actual scorpions. It doesn't need much extra care, but he always makes sure to keep it bright and polished.

The downside to his carapace is that it can't actually heal unless Asmo molts and completely replaces it. He's not the biggest fan of molting, but he'll force himself to molt early if he gets scratched or hurt in any way. He can't stand the thought of any part of him looking dull or banged up.

Overall, though, Asmo definitely has his self care handled perfectly. He's also very particular about how things are done, so he's very hesitant to let anyone else do it for him. He does, however, love helping his brothers out with grooming and self care. Especially the ones that he knows are likely to neglect themselves without a proper push.

Beelzebub

Beel's self care leaves much to be desired. He's completely horrible at taking care of his demonic attributes, but he often forgets about it or runs out of time. It's not uncommon for his horns to be rough and chipped or for his insect-like carapace to look dull and roughed up, especially with how aggressive his sports matches can get. Between school, working out, fangol and his constant hunger, regular upkeep gets put on the backburner.

Luckily, Beel and his twin often partake in allogrooming! They both find it easier to take care of each other, rather than themselves. This is especially helpful when it comes to Beel's horns. They curve so tightly along the sides of his head that he can't actually fit his hands between the horns and his skin to smooth them out. Belphie, on the other hand, has much smaller hands and can easily reach around and sand them down, while Beel takes care of him in turn. They rarely talk during these moments, but it serves as good bonding time for the two of them.

Beel's carapace is something he can handle himself, mostly because it doesn't really require anything. Like Asmo's, the only way for his carapace to "heal" is for him to molt and replace it, which he puts off for as long as possible. It's thick and hardy and since he doesn't put much stock in looking perfectly put together, he doesn't worry about it all that much. Whenever he does feel the need to molt, it goes by pretty quickly and he's back to his regular schedule in no time.

Belphegor

Belphie is honestly the worst at taking care of himself. Not because he doesn't care, but because he has such a hard time gathering up enough motivation to even get up in the mornings, much less put in the effort to look nice. If no one steps in, he can go days at a time without brushing just the hair on his head. Even on the days that he does that much, chances are that he didn't bother brushing the rest of his fur, too. After all, if he just doesn't show off his demon form, then no one will notice right?

Luckily for him, Beel does notice when his twin hasn't been caring for himself. While the rest of the brothers only need to worry about their demon forms every other week or even just once a month, Belphie needs to do it daily because of his coat. Without proper daily care, his hair gets oily and matted together very easily, which only makes it harder to deal with later. Beel knows that that's a lot to handle and often steps to brush out his twin's coat, even if he doesn't need any help in return. It's much easier for Belphie to feel motivated enough to help groom Beel than it is to care for himself, so their joint grooming helps them both.

On a similar note, Belphie has quite a bit of trouble with his horns and he constantly puts off taking care of them until they begin causing him physical discomfort. In the past, there's been a few times where he's let them grow a couple extra curls before they started weighing him down so much that he had to take care of it. With his twin's help, and a strictly imposed schedule, his horns haven't gotten that bad in ages, but they still tend to be rather rough most of the time. He also needs to sand down his hooves in a similar fashion. Normally, they'd be maintained just by walking on rough surfaces, but Belphie definitely doesn't walk around enough for that.

If Beel's not around to help out, Belphie has no qualms with playing the baby brother card and whining until one of the others agrees to help him. He's always willing to groom them in return, though, so he usually gets his way pretty easily.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #demon forms #this post sent me down so many rabbitholes while i was seraching stuff up #also learned that cows have hair instead of fur which is horrifying #so belphie has hair instead of a fur coat

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mycrofts-gunbrella · 3 years ago

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Caring is the Greatest Advantage- Mycroft Holmes x Reader (Part Five)

Word Count- 3921

Morning had come around a lot quicker than you had hoped it would, the sunlight peeking through the curtains and birds singing outside making drifting back off an impossible task. Though you felt well rested, you simply just didn't want to move anywhere any time soon. Last night had begun with Mycroft shyly placing his hand on your hip as your back pressed close to his chest, but this morning had ended with Mycroft on his back and you with your head resting between his chest and shoulder, hand crossing over with fingers hooked over the pyjama's pocket. You'd never expected to be the type to wake up earlier than Mycroft Holmes, particularly not two days on the bounce, but you wouldn't complain. He looked so peaceful as he slept, the sunlight turning his auburn hair far more ginger, his freckles on his nose matching. You slowly reached one arm backwards, blindly feeling around for your phone on the bedside table and reading through your messages. You grinned seeing a text from Greg and had to fight the small laugh that threatened to escape you.

'Hey, just thought I'd check in on you both and see how you're getting on. I hate to feel pushy but we do really need to start that paperwork, today ideally. Figured I'd pop round later if it's alright- I need a sodding nap first though. Spent the majority of last night receiving phone calls about mysterious activity around St James', load of dodgy cars sending people away, loads of papers.. don't suppose you saw any of that down your way did you, makes life easier?"

Your fingers typed a response- 'Uhh..guilty as charged.. Myc was in jeans and a Who top, daren't be seen by the public..I'll get him to fix it when he's up x'- a grin playing on your face. Yeah okay you felt a little bad, but Greg had dealt with worse. After pressing send, you scrolled further through your notifications, spotting one from John. Nothing major, just checking in and inviting you both over for late lunch, mentioning briefly how it'll do Sherlock some good seeing his brother, even if he doesn't believe it himself- evidently also receiving a message from Greg as he also explained how it would make Lestrade have to do one less visit for paperwork if you popped over a little earlier. Before you could type an answer, you felt Mycroft shift beneath you, stretching out the arm that wasn't trapped beneath your body.

"Morning Sleeping Beauty." You teased, turning your head and placing a small kiss on the Holmes' chin. Mycroft blinked, rubbing his eyes and offering you a 'good morning' in response as he eyed up you typing on your phone.

"Needed to be whisked away to catch a criminal mastermind already?" He asked, sitting up a little as you moved to give him a little more space, his arm still loosely tucked behind your back, though his torso now free.

"Your deductions in the morning are lacking.. though close. Mastermind, but not criminal. John and Sherlock have invited us to late lunch, Greg's popping over to start the first part of paperwork handling, only the basic stuff this time round, so figured it would make it easier on him only having to go to one home before we left." Mycroft breathed deeply, fingers raising to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"I think I'd have rathered the criminal." He spoke, already mentally planning the afternoon, the conversations he would likely have, the way Sherlock would behave. What if he still hadn't forgiven him? It was surprising enough that you had let him off so easily, but Sherlock was different. Sherlock was a Holmes, and someone of whom already had feudal tendencies with Mycroft, it was bound to end terribly. As though you had read his mind, you moved your hand to take his from his face as you noticed his fingertips whitening as he pinched harder.

"Hey, it'll be fine. He doesn't blame you, he's been far too silent for that to be the case. From the way John sounded, it actually seemed more like he was worried about you, though you know he'd never admit that." Mycroft hummed in response, not being able to find the right words to say before reaching over and grabbing his own mobile. "World ending yet?"

"Not yet. Though with any luck, quarrels could happen before lunch." He mused, one side of his mouth raising slightly in a playful smirk.

"Mycroft you can't wish for conflicts amongst empires to get out of a meal with your brother."

"Can't I?" He raised a brow.

"Anthea wouldn't allow it anyway. We're on strict instruction to not go into work for the next couple of weeks, nations be damned. Lunch sounds far more appealing too." You slid yourself out of bed and grabbed one of the bags from Anthea that you brought upstairs last night, taking a handful of clothing items and tucking them under your arm.

"But it isn't lunch, is it? It's LATE Lunch, settled approximately around 3pm, too late for lunch, too early for dinner. It's impractical by any means; you starve yourself at real lunch so you do not ruin your appetite, and then by dinner time you're hungry once again. And if you eat at both of those times as well as the late lunch, your feeding schedules become on par with a bloody Hobbit." You rolled your eyes and headed to the bathroom. "Though you may be more accustomed to such choices given the height similarity between yourself and Mr Brandybuck."

"Cheeky sod, not all of us have glorious Holmesian legs. I'm sure you'll survive a few hours.. Oh, you also owe Greg an apology." You chuckled, opening the message back up and tossing your phone in the general direction of Mycroft's lap before going to get dressed. After reading the message, you heard Mycroft let out a laugh from the other room, the rare kind that you knew made the sides of his eyes crease and his head tip back slightly in amusement; you were sorry you missed it.

Leaving the bathroom, you couldn't help but notice the silk pyjama clad man standing mindlessly in front of his open wardrobe, glancing over each individual item of clothing. Wandering behind him, you moved up on your tiptoes and peered over his shoulder at the rows of suits. You were still dressed relatively comfortably in a pair of skinny jeans and a t-shirt, which you felt was appropriate for the later meal that would likely be somewhere like Angelo's- but you equally knew that Mycroft's idea of 'comfort' lay within his three pieces, pocket squares and oxfords.

"Don't panic, I'm not going to begrudge you of your precious suits today. You deserve it after actually going through with my wardrobe choice for you.. I didn't actually expect you to do it." You laughed, squeezing his shoulder fondly. "We slept in late again, there's barely any morning left." You commented, glancing over at the clock that read 10:53am. "Can I tempt you in Elevenses, Mr Baggins?" You grinned, your Lord of the Rings reference not being missed by Mycroft. He cast you a playful glare, fighting the urge to childishly poke his two fingers up at you. "What? Not judging my bedside manner this time?"

"It is useless to meet revenge with revenge; it solves nothing." He quoted Frodo without hesitation, bastard probably already planned that you'd quip back with something smart and already armed himself with Shire related comebacks. You, in contrast to Mycroft, did have the tendencies to become childish and did opt for the two fingered response, an adoring smile unnaturally paired.

Not many people got to know of Mycroft's little nerdy side, and you took pride in being one of the few that did, though you took more pride in him for being able to easily reel off the quotes. Though he had told you before that The Lord of the Rings trilogy had been his favourite of everything you made him watch, then when he read the books? You wouldn't hear from him for hours at a time while he binge read through them for the tenth time round, and of course you had noticed the varying editions of the three books on his bookshelf in his personal office, rather than lining the shelves in his small library room. If anything, it just made him more endearing.

Though it was nothing compared with his love of Doctor Who. Bless his heart, you had taken him to watch David Tennant's Richard II a few years ago for his birthday and he was insistent on waiting behind after the performance to catch David leaving and got him to sign his special edition box set of his DW seasons. He even had a photo taken with him, his expression being easily comparable to the likes of a child who just got a puppy for Christmas- and, much to his dismay, the photograph had had a prime place on your desk at NSY since the event.

You made your way downstairs, calling out something about making omelettes and leaving Mycroft alone to get ready. His fingers skimmed across the expensive fabrics, tugging out an olive green suit and red tie and pocket square to match. The smell of the food you were preparing began to fill his nose, making his stomach growl as he rushed to the bathroom to get dressed. After removing his pyjama top, Mycroft caught a glance of himself in the mirror, prodding at the pudge of his stomach that settled just over his pyjama bottoms, before sucking in flat and looking again. Maybe he should forego the omelette and just wait until later.. another growl.. okay maybe just a little, just so he didn't raise suspicion. He sighed, stomach relaxing back to its natural state before finishing his morning routine, tugging his trousers up a little higher than usual to tuck away the offending belly fat.

Mycroft had always suffered with his weight, he knew that. He also knew of his past, how he would skip meals, or spend hours upon hours on his treadmill, or the time he was under Doctor Chinnery for just shy of three years following his habits of completing his meals with his fingers down the back of his throat over the toilet just after his job promotions exceeded and he found himself in much higher rankings- public appearance being far more important than any personal preference. Though his eating disorder had improved, the years of therapy didn't miraculously improve his self-confidence. It was one of the many reasons he preferred inviting others for dinners, or at the very least having his days to himself when he knew he would be going out later in the evening. Spontaneous meals out like the one he would be attending in a few hours, or having somebody at home with him while he waited for said meals threw him off balance completely- his usual routine of fasting beforehand as to not appear rude or raise suspicions when he ate in public being disturbed significantly. You knew of his past, deduced it, actually, and had been nothing but supportive, trying your best to convince him for years that he was perfectly healthy and encouraging him to eat better, to actually consume meals. He was thankful, of course he was, but it didn't help his insecurities around you, no matter how welcoming you had been or however many compliments you gave him. His body was covered in stretch marks and areas of loose skin from his weight loss over the years, his chest hair, though scarce, was a coppery ginger and his body was covered in so many freckles he looked like an explosion at a dot to dot factory. It led him to remember the other reason why he had never previously attempted to pursue a relationship with you; if he was disgusted and horrified at the appearance of his nude body then what on earth would you think when that time eventually came around? He daren't even try to imagine your face. You'd worked with Sherlock long enough to have seen him wander around naked and Mycroft had to admit that his brother at least had a body worth parading about in the nude, then there was Gregory who, despite not having an exactly chiseled body, still had the rugged good looks and toned chest- a physique that clearly represented the physical aspects of his occupation- there was no doubt you'd compare him to them and he would come up short every time.

"Myc? You gonna be long? Yours is going to be freezing!" Your voice had knocked him out of his thoughts and he quickly shrugged on the rest of his clothes, straightening his tie in the mirror and plastering on a small smile as he headed downstairs and into the kitchen.

"Apologies.. the cufflinks failed in succession to cooperate at first." You had eyed him suspiciously, knowing that Mycroft had worn enough suits in his lifetime that he could probably find a way to put one on to completion in 5 minutes in the dark with oven mitts on.

"I know I've been so against the suits, but I have to admit that you look incredible.. I think that one's my new favourite." You commented casually, placing a quick kiss to his temple as he sat at the table. "That colour is lovely." He quirked a brow.

"New favourite? You've had old ones?"

"Obviously." Imitating Sherlock. "Charcoal pinstripe with that light blue shirt- brings your eyes out wonderfully... and your bum." You winked, positively enjoying the pink that dusted the man's cheeks, and the way he would open his mouth to speak and then close it before any words came out. In his defence, he was really not used to receiving such compliments. And in your defence, you weren't particularly used to giving them, not like that anyway. You'd blame Greg, he was a terrible influence and an incredible flirt- using his charm to at the very least try and make you laugh when you had shitty days.

You lay his plate in front of him, a coffee to its side, before beginning to tuck into your own meal. You had learned early on that if you didn't wait until Mycroft was able to eat then he likely wouldn't eat at all. While drinking his coffee fairly happily, you hadn't missed that the vast majority of Mycroft's breakfast was still on the plate, cut in smaller pieces and rearranged to appear as though he had eaten more than he truly had. Frowning, you didn't press- knowing better than to point out his behaviour and just being thankful he had eaten anything at all (about a third of the omelette and half a slice of toast if your judgements were correct) but had elected to keep an eye on him. You finished your own food in silence before crossing the cutlery over on your plate and beginning to speak.

"I figured if we left now we could have a bit of time for you to go through the first set of paperwork, Greg should be getting there in the next 10 minutes or so, and then by the time we finish and have a cup of tea it'll be time to go out." You suggested, taking Mycroft's plate to clear away after he had sent a nod to show he was finished. He made a small groan at the need to go at all, but soon acquiesced, sent a text for a car and stood to go to the front door. Tugging on a hoodie, you opened the door and took a step back, the wind shooting in your face and making you scowl. Mycroft made an amused sound and offered you the scarf of his that you had worn last night. Rather than taking the garment, you stood and waited for him to wrap it the same expert way that he had the night before. "I also text Greg to run by my flat and grab my coat so I'll be able to stop stealing your expensive scarves soon.. though this one feels so lovely I may text him again to leave it on the tube." You laughed, stepping back outside once again and walking with Mycroft to the end of the road where a car was waiting. Mycroft had wanted to respond, to make a comment about how he didn't mind letting you wear his things, how he actually quite liked it. But he stayed silent, offering a small smile instead and a soft hand at the small of your back. Mycroft opened the door for you, climbing in after and settling against the plush seats of the lavish car.

As the car began to move you tensed a little, a thought popping into your head.

"Myc.. does Sherlock know yet? About us? I might have hinted at it a little when I spoke to Lestrade earlier but I didn't press.. I just.. I didn't know if you were telling people." You asked awkwardly. Christ it made it sound like you were in some forbidden relationship. Mycroft's jaw clenched a little.

"I wasn't aware it was secret knowledge, if that's what you are asking Y/N. In response to your question, no. I haven't spoken to Sherlock at all since.." He trailed. "And I am not the sort of man to walk into a room and actively announce that kind of thing. But you should know that he will likely deduce it the moment we walk through the door being as you are wearing my clothing, your hair smells like my shampoo and your skin still has traces of the scent of my soap. So if you didn't want anybody to know, then I strongly suggest we rearrange our plans for this afternoon." Who was he kidding? Of course you didn't want people to know that you were actually together now- you would look ridiculous being such a pretty young woman with a man like Mycroft in tow. You opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off. "If you are going to say you could argue the soaps then it would simply be futile, he knows I have your regular brand at your disposal; he'd know you used mine in the form of... sentiment." The last word felt wrong on his tongue now, knowing you had hoped to keep your.. relationship.. behind closed doors. Mycroft Holmes was a very private man, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't want knowledge of your relationship to be at least semi-public, having felt a little giddy when you'd chosen to cross that line with him.

"What? No, I wasn't going to talk about the sodding shampoo." You grinned, reaching a hand over to place on his knee. "Jesus Myc, I asked because I didn't know if YOU were comfortable with people knowing. I'm pretty sure everyone inside that flat knew I fancied you the last few years, I'd proudly walk in and show that my pining eventually paid off. I just know you have appearances to keep up and I didn't want to ruin that, or embarrass you in front of Sherlock." For what seemed like the millionth time in the last few days, your words surprised Mycroft. He felt his jaw loosen and he took a breath, moving only to briefly place his hand over yours for a small squeeze and moving back again. You didn't expect him to say much, he was Mycroft Holmes, not Romeo Montague, but the small smile you sent back his way let him know that you understood his thoughts. The drive to Baker Street was only 10 or so minutes from Mycroft's home so you soon arrived in no time at all, the slick black car smoothly pulling up outside number 221.

"I can only hope my dear brother deduces our relationship correctly and doesn't make a vast attempt to embarrass me in front of his peers.. again." Mycroft knocked on the door, his words casting you back to a Christmas you had all shared a couple years ago.

It was a small gathering, consisting of the pair of you, the Baker Street boys, Greg and Mrs Hudson, and a few weeks beforehand, after multiple arguments of whether or not presents should be shared, Mrs Hudson had come up with the wonderful (terrible) idea of secret Santa which, incase you wasn't aware, isn't a fun game when played with two Holmes' that knew everybody's present and Secret Santa before the packages were opened. You had pulled Mrs Hudson and couldn't have been more thrilled, neither could she when she opened her new tea set- a simple floral design decorated its sides, but she was thankful no matter the pattern, the last teapot having been found at the hands of Sherlock housing human eyes. Conveniently enough, Mycroft had pulled your name and elected to subtly buy you a personalised travel mug for work. After you had opened it, Sherlock had scoffed, muttering something along the lines of "Mycroft isn't that shit at buying presents. He bought you a necklace at first but felt too embarrassed to give it to you in such a public setting and panic bought that cup." Continuing on about how Mycroft had put a lot of thought into your original gift and how it was unusual and how it "obviously" meant he favoured you and was attracted to you. Mycroft had left shortly after that, not making eye contact with any of the silent people in the room and climbed into the back of his car, but you had followed suit and clambered in after him- easing the tension by ignoring Sherlock's allegations and giving him the envelope that you had in your pocket. You had told him you had bought him something special anyway, even though he wasn't who you were supposed to buy for, because you cared for and appreciated him- he had opened the envelope slowly and his eyes widened, that rare smile appearing on his face when he was presented with the Richard II tickets. After your exchange Mycroft had given you the necklace anyway, spouting derogatives about his brother's deductions as he did so. It was a small silver chain necklace with a sparkling silver pendant that, upon closer inspection, you had noticed was a police badge.

You smiled fondly at the memory and instinctively placed your hand above your sternum, feeling the small piece of metal beneath your clothing that you hadn't taken off in two years. You turned to face the man beside you a little more, placing a hand on his shoulder and reaching up on your tiptoes to place a lingering kiss on his lips, moving back only when you heard the latch unlock in front of you, and noticing the ever so slight pink tinge to Mycroft's bottom lip from the lip balm you had put on earlier. "That should make it easier to get it right." You commented, fighting the small grin from your face as you noticed Mycroft standing in the same way, lips parted slightly from where your own had been moments ago, a matching pink dusting his cheekbones. The door opened revealing a smug looking Sherlock.

"Be careful Mycroft, you'll catch flies like that if you aren't cautious enough."

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4stars-uswnt · 4 years ago

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My Muse, My Valentine [Christen Press x Reader]

requested by anon: Not sure if you’re accepting any request but can you write a cp x photographer gf where her gf surprised her at man u, like her gf secretly transfer there to be with cp. Thanks

A/N: please ignore some of the inconsistencies this story has with reality :) but anyways... hope you enjoy and have a happy Valentine’s Day (tomorrow) and remember it’s a day about LOVE, whether that be romantic, platonic, familial, or self ❤️

“I’m gonna miss you,” you whine, as you watch your girlfriend pack her suitcase.

“I know, babe. I’m gonna miss you too, so much.” Christen leans down to quickly peck your lips, before continuing to fold her clothes.

You and Christen had been dating for almost three years now, having met after you’d photographed one of the USWNT’s matches. You instantly felt an attraction to the curly-haired forward, your camera always drifting towards her wherever she was on the pitch.

After you’d posted a couple of your photos on your Instagram, which Christen made a point to like and repost, you gathered up the courage to approach her after a game, and thus began your relationship.

With yours and Christen’s busy schedules, it was sometimes hard to find time for each other, but you made it work, sharing an apartment in Portland during the offseason and flying out for matches when you could. But being a sports photographer did have its benefits, as your work often led you to spending more time with your girlfriend and admiring her speed down the field and score goals.

But now, with the pandemic, as the NWSL was struggling to field games, you found yourself with little work. Christen herself was not quite satisfied with the league’s plan for the season, so when Tobin proposed the idea of going to the WSL, she desperately wanted to, yearning to get back on the pitch.

At first, when Christen approached you with the subject, you immediately opposed, not wanting to be so far from your girlfriend for such a long amount of time. Additionally, with COVID, it would be nearly, if not completely, impossible for you to visit. But after a blowout fight and discussing it further, you realized that this is what would be best for Christen and her career.

“Do you have to go?” You pout, sitting up and moving to the end of the bed.

“You know I do, (Y/N/N).” Christen playfully rolls her eyes.

“Humph.”

“Babe, come on, don’t make me feel worse about leaving you.”

“Then don’t,” you quip, grabbing your girlfriend by the waist, pulling her down on the bed with you.

“Babe!” Christen squeals, as you blow raspberries into her skin.

You lift your head from the crook of her neck, your eyes locking with hers. “I know that you have to go,” you admit seriously. “Doesn’t mean I like it, but I know that this is what’s best for your career.”

“Thank you, (Y/N),” she says earnestly, giving you a small smile. “We’ll text and FaceTime everyday.”

“I’m holding you to that.” You cup her face and bring her in for a kiss, savoring the feeling of her soft lips on yours. “I also know that you’re gonna kill it over there in Manchester. The WSL isn’t gonna know what hit them.”

Christen ducks her bashfully, a small blush arising on her cheeks. “You know I love you, right?”

“Of course, Chris. I love you, too.”

“Good.” She gives you a quick peck, as she gets up from the bed. “Now, either quit bothering me or help me. My flight is early tomorrow morning, and I haven’t even finished packing.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

—————

It had been a little over five months since you’d dropped Christen off at the airport and she left for Manchester. Despite the constant texting and the nightly FaceTime calls, you couldn’t help but ache for your girlfriend. Without her, the apartment was lonelier and the bed felt bigger.

It had helped that your work had started back up, first with some freelance work and then with the NWSL fall series starting, which gave you something to do and kept you fairly busy.

Currently, you were sitting at the kitchen counter, sipping on a cup of coffee, as you edited some photos for the Thorns. Just as you were saving your work and closing Lightroom, about to shut your computer, a ping alerts a new email in your inbox.

Switching tabs, you notice the message is from an unfamiliar address, so you presume it’s a new client. You click and open it, your eyes widening, as you scan the email:

Ms. (Y/L/N),

I noticed your professional portfolio through many referrals, particularly your work form the World Cup. I am writing on behalf of the BBC News Media Centre, and we’re looking for an excellent sports photographer to join the team, specifically to cover the FA Women’s Super League and the Premier League.

Your experience is outstanding, adn your work speaks for itself. I think you’d be a great fit for this role, and I’d love to tell you more about it and hear more from you.

Would you like to set up a phone or Zoom call soon? If so, let me know when you’re available.

Best,

Charles Smith

Director of Media Relations at BBC Sport

You quickly reread the email, and then reread it again, just to make sure you’re not dreaming. This was too good to be true. But you shake yourself out of your stupor and quickly type out a response to set up a phone call as soon as possible.

After hitting send, you shut your computer with excitement and throw your hands up in the air.

“Yes!” You exclaim into the empty apartment, as you throw your fist in the air and jump off the barstool.

Knowing you needed to distract yourself, otherwise you’d just be staring at your computer, eagerly awaiting the response, you decided to go on a run.

Jogging through the city, you think of your girlfriend and your potential reunion if this job offer worked out. You decided that if you did in fact take this position, you’d surprise Christen at one of her matches, hopefully one that you’d be able to photograph.

As soon as you arrive back in your apartment, you make a beeline for your laptop. You anxiously open your inbox and beam when you see Charles had replied to set up a Zoom call at 9:30 tomorrow morning. You excitedly type out pleasantries, telling him you’re looking forward to it.

For the rest of the afternoon, you were in an increasingly good mood. So later that evening, when Christen called you for your routine FaceTime, she could tell something was up.

“Why do you keep smiling like that?”

“Can I not be happy to talk to my girlfriend?” You tease, a huge grin plastered onto your face.

“You can,” Christen trails off, not quite believing you. “But you have the weird giddy look you get when something’s up?”

“Nothing’s up. Just had a good day,” you shrug nonchalantly.

“Okay,” the forward accepts, still eyeing you suspiciously. “Anyways, you know She Believes is in a couple weeks, are you working the tournament?”

“Yup,” you nod and make a mental note to mention that to Charles tomorrow.

The two of you continue updating each other, chatting about topics ranging from what you had for breakfast that day to re-inc’s upcoming drop.

“Alright,” Christen yawns. “I think I’m gonna call it a night.”

You check your phone and see it’s 5:37 pm, meaning it’s almost midnight in Manchester.

“Okay,” your eyes softening at the sight of your sleepy girlfriend. “Good night, Chris. I love you.”

“Love you, too, babe. G’night.”

After ending the call and shutting your laptop, you head into the kitchen to make some dinner for yourself, getting on with your evening.

—————

The next morning, you anxiously await for Charles to begin the Zoom call, nervously bouncing your knee and biting your lip.

“Hi, (Y/N),” Charles greets, his face appearing on your screen.

“Good morning. Or rather good afternoon?” You correct with a light chuckle, to which he reciprocates.

“Well, as you know from my email, we are looking for a photographer to join our team, and from many referrals, you seem to be a very good candidate,

“So, I was thinking maybe we could look at your portfolio really quickly and then hash out the logistics to see if this is something that could work out.”

“Sounds good,” you agree, as you pull up some of your best pictures and share your screen.

The two of you look through your photos, many from the 2019 World Cup, some of the Olympics, and a few from random NWSL games.

“Well, (Y/N), your work is quite impressive. If you’re ready, and you’re seriously interested in this position, we can talk specifics, scheduling, all that good stuff,” Charles offers.

“I’m definitely interested, but can I just preface by saying that my girlfriend is a major part of this decision, so depending on what she wants to do at the end of the season will impact my contract.”

“Oh?” He raises his eyebrows, clearly not expecting your candor. “Your girlfriend plays in the WSL?”

“Yeah, well, technically only for this season. Her contract is up in May,” you explain.

“(Y/N), to be completely frank, we’re looking to hire because a couple of our photographers had some personal issues due to COVID and had to leave mid-season,” Charles reveals. “So if it turns out that your girlfriend wants to go back to the NWSL, then we can work that out. And if she wants to stay, and you end up liking it here and you fit in well, we can also work that out. We’re pretty flexible.”

You sigh in relief, giving him a small smile. “Wow, thank you so much. So what would my contract look like?”

“Well, we can sign you to three month contract with the option for extension,” he offers, as you nod along enthusiastically.

“That sounds great,” you exclaim, beaming. “And just to let you know, I’ve already signed on to work the She Believes tournament from the 18th to the 21st.”

“That actually aligns with the WSL’s international break, and there are a couple Premier League matches that weekend, but I think we can manage, so that shouldn’t be an issue.”

“You guys are too kind and so flexible. I really appreciate it so much,” you say earnestly.

“It’s really just us being desperate for a good photographer,” Charles jokes.

“Either way, I’m grateful for this opportunity.”

“We’re excited for you to join our team,” he reciprocates. “So, in terms of when you’ll begin, I honestly would like you to come over as soon as possible so that you can get settled and get acclimated.”

“I am honestly ready to start whenever you’ll have me.”

“How about next week? The Manchester Derby is on Friday, and honestly, given your portfolio, I’d love you to photograph that match,” the British man admits.

“That’s perfect!” You were in complete awe of how perfectly everything was working out. Photographing a Man United match as your first job meant you could surprise Christen, maybe as an early Valentine’s gift.

“Great,” Charles smiles.

The two of you discuss and finalize your contract and the logistics of you starting the job. Once everything’s settled and you each have the information you need, you wrap up the call.

“Well, thank you so much, Charles, for this offer, and I can’t wait to see you next Tuesday.”

“I can’t wait to work with you and meet you. See you next week. Cheers.”

After ending the Zoom call, you begin to make a COVID test appointment, book your flight, and arrange your hotel room for the few days that Christen doesn’t know you’re there, preparing yourself for moving across the world.

—————

After landing in London, getting settled into your hotel, and meeting with the BBC team and the other photographers, you were now on your way to the Manchester Derby.

In the back of the black cab, you pull out your phone to text a good luck text to Christen.

It was difficult to keep your surprise a secret, especially when you were actually in England, because it was much more difficult to FaceTime without her noticing your change in setting. You had to make up the excuse that you were swarmed with editing and preparing for the upcoming Thorns trainings.

As you pull up to the Academy Stadium, you hear your phone ding.

Chris ❤️

Thanks babe. Miss and love you 😘

You quickly type out a response, before heading into the building.

(Y/N/N) 💗

Love you too. I miss u too but go kick butt.

The match was exhilarating. Not only were you a sports photographer, but you were also a huge fan of the game, enjoying a good game when you see one.

You watched in awe, the level and style of play significantly different from than NWSL. While snapping hundreds of photos of both teams, your camera would always somehow land back on your girlfriend.

Your heart ached for the curly-haired forward, as you missed her dearly. Until you saw her back on the pitch, you hadn’t really realized that you missed watching her play the game that she’d mastered, her movements around the pitch and on the ball effortless and elegant.

As the ref blew the whistle, signaling the end of the half, you scroll through some of the photos you’d taken, deleting some of the blurry and unfocussed ones.

A smile immediately forms on your face when you see a picture of Christen during warmups with a huge grin on her face. You spend all of halftime editing said photo and putting together an Instagram post for your girlfriend.

About fifteen minutes later, the teams take the pitch and you go back to doing your job. Throughout the second half, you could tell that Christen was getting increasingly frustrated, her team getting down 3-0 with only about five minutes left.

You watch as the players high five and hug each other, and you want nothing more than to run onto the field to be with your girlfriend, but you had a plan to stick to.

As the team goes back into the locker room, you pull out your phone to post a photo on Instagram and then you shoot a quick text to Tobin:

(Y/N)🤓:

toby go check out my ig post :))

Back in the Man United locker room, after Casey went through her post match speech, Tobin checks her phone and sees a text from you. The injured forward playfully rolls her eyes at your message but follows your directions.

Upon opening the social media app, Tobin raises her eyebrows, her eyes widening. She glances across the room to see if her best friend had seen your post, but Christen was minding her own business, changing into sweats after her shower.

“Chris!” The older forward calls over to the other woman. “Have you seen your girlfriend’s Instagram post?”

Christen furrows her brows in confusion. “What? No, what is it?”

Tobin waves her friend over and shows her the post:

Liked by mrapinoe, ashlynharris24, and 638,231 others

yourusername: My muse, my valentine.

“As I sat and looked at her

and the rolling hills she sat upon

I thought,

what amazing luck I have

that the world had created

such beautiful things

and given me the eyes to see them.”

- atticus

tagged: christenpress

- - - - -

mrapinoe: Stunning pictures, (Y/N). Love you guys 💖

alikrieger: These photos are 🔥🔥🔥🔥

alexmorgan13: love this 😍😍

cdunn19: Beautiful!

glennondoyle: Love love love love this!!

ashlynharris24: Holy shit! Are you in Manchester????

↳lavellerose: Was this today??

↳sammymewyy: Oh my gosh it was!

↳kellyohara: Valentine’s Day surprise for Pressy?? 👀

Christen zooms in on the photo in the center, her eyes widening when she realizes that it is from today’s match.

“How did she get that picture?”

Tobin mentally slaps her forehead at her friend’s denseness. “Knowing (Y/N), she probably took it.”

“But that’s impossible. She’s in the States,” Christen states and shakes her head, dumbfounded.

“Actually,” you speak up, stepping into the locker room, deciding to make your presence known. “I’m right here.”

“(Y/N)?” Your girlfriend looks up at you, her mind in a state of shock.

“Hey, love,” you greet shyly.

Once her mind caught up with reality, Christen runs and jumps into your body, kissing you passionately but briefly and wrapping you into a bone crushing hug.

“I can’t believe your here,” she whispers into your neck. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, babe, so much.”

Unwrapping herself from the hug, Christen stares at you in awe. “What… how are you here?”

“We can talk about that later,” you give her another quick kiss. “But right now, I just wanna spend time with you. Maybe we can grab some dinner? You can show me around Manchester, considering I’m gonna be spending a lot of time here.”

Your girlfriend looks at you puzzled, but you just give her a wink with a small smirk on your face.

“Well, c’mon lets get out of here.”

—————

Back at Christen’s apartment, the two of you sit down for a nice and casual, but romantic, dinner you’d prepared along with a bottle of red wine.

After catching up, the forward finally decides to address the elephant in the room. “So how are you here? What’s going on, (Y/N/N)? You said earlier that you’d be spending a lot of time in Manchester, what does that mean? I’m so confused. Not that I’m grateful that you’re here right now and that I get to see you, but I thought you were working She Believes, and—“

“Chris,” you cut off your girlfriend’s endearing rambling. “Babe, you’re rambling.”

“Sorry,” she blushes, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“I got a job with BBC Sport till the end of the season,” you answer her parade of questions.

“Does that mean what I think it does?”

You nod, while taking a sip of your water. “It means I’m yours if you’ll have me.”

Not having the adequate words to express her joy and excitement, Christen gets up from her chair, walks over to sit in your lap, and connects you lips for a searing kiss.

“I can’t believe you,” she breathes, rubbing her nose against yours. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you quickly peck her lips while rubbing circles on her hip. “But as much as I love you and all this romance, we gotta get going soon.”

Your girlfriend tilts her head in confusion.

“Do the words ‘She Believes’ ring a bell?” You tease. “If I remember correctly, our flight leaves in a couple hours.”

“You’re coming with me?” Christen asks, her brain trying to wrap around the fact that her girlfriend, who she hadn’t seen in almost five months, would now be living with her in England and flying back to the States with her for the next week.

“Of course, Chris,” you give her a cheeky smile, along with a kiss to her nose, as you quote a book Becky had convinced the whole team to read. “You should know by now that I’d follow you anywhere. You’re the only good thing left in this world.”

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #christen press x reader #christen press imagine #christen press imagines #uswnt #christen press

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desthesleepdeprivedwriter · 3 years ago

Text

Happy Birthday

It was 3 am, and Purpled wasn't able to sleep.

He was quietly sitting in his room, petting DogChamp while he was sleeping. Purpled eyes couldn't stop staring at the date showing in his communicator, a strange feeling slowly consuming him.

7th of July.

Purpled's birthday.

He sighed, deciding to do the same he did every year: get a small cupcake, place a match on it, and eat in the early morning. It wasn't a big deal, really.

He left his little tent, heading over towards the restaurant in Las Nevadas. It wasn't open for the public yet, but it was the only place they could have access to a proper kitchen. Purpled opened the Staff Only door, hearing the strange banging of pans and someone whispering swears. Probably another resident trying to have a night snack, Purpled couldn't blame them at all. He stepped in and stopped right away.

Well, he didn't expect to see Fundy in an apron, mixing something in a bowl and an immense mess around him.

"Uh… what are you doing here?" Fundy asked, immediately noticing Purpled's presence.

"What are you baking?" Purpled asked back, not wanting to answer.

"I asked first." Fundy replied, crossing his arms.

Purples sighed, no patience for that at the moment. "I just came here to eat something. Now, you go."

Fundy's ears twitched a little before pressing against his head. "I'm… baking a cake." He muttered, going back to mixing the ingredients.

Purpled, for a split of second, got happy with the info, but quickly dismissed it. No way it could be for him, just one person knew his birthday and Fundy certainly wasn't him.

Purpled noticed orange and green food coloring placed on the table, curiosity now flooding in. "So, did you just get a craving for cake in the middle of the night?" he played as a joke, going back to his search for a single cupcake.

"Nah, man… it's my birthday." Fundy replied, still talking in a low voice.

"No way!" Purpled said before he couldn't contain himself, getting himself into a mess as soon as Fundy stared at him, confusion all over his body language.

"What do you mean by 'no way'? It's not like being born on July 7th was a crime."

Purpled pondered his answers.

He could lie, say he didn't expect it, or that Fundy shouldn't bake the cake for his own birthday, or any shitty lie like that.

"It's my birthday too." It's what came out.

Fundy's eyes widened, then a smile appeared, to Purpled's surprise.

"Dude, that's neat!" Fundy said, now moving towards the cabinets in search for something. "Your favorite color is purple, right?" He stopped for a while, and then went back for the search. "Oh Void, that was a stupid question."

Purpled was still in place, watching as the fox picked a purple food coloring and went back to the cake making, adding more ingredients. "I just need to make more batter so we can have more cake, but it will be fine."

"Wait, wait… what are you doing?" Purpled approached Fundy, watching as he divided the dough into three different recipients. "Our birthday cake." He replied, pouring each food coloring into a different bowl and starting to mix.

"So… the colors represent us?" Purpled asked, just so he could be on the same page.

"Yep."

"Orange is you, purple is me."

"Yep."

"So, who is the green one?"

Fundy went silent for a while, and then opened a sad smile.

"Back before the revolution, when it was just us in a van… we didn't have so much money for food." Purpled didn't get the connection, so he kept waiting. "So, there couldn't be two cakes at my and Tubbo's birthday."

Fundy put each batter into a different cooking pan, putting one into the oven.

"So, Wilbur would bake a single cake, two layers, one orange, the other green." Fundy smiled a little, nostalgic. "It became a tradition, even after L'Manberg came to be."

He decided to use the other ovens in the kitchen, placing the other cooking pans.

"Each year, we had our birthday together, no matter what. Even if we were angry at each other, or we had to hide from the big bad dictator. One time, I had to enter his presidential office to force him to take his head out of the papers."

Purpled just listened in silence, quite in awe. Fundy was really someone that had lived through a lot, and somehow, still held on to little comforting traditions. It must be nice, having something like that.

"But… since L'Manberg has been gone…" Fundy sighed. "I kinda haven't celebrated my birthday. I decided to try this year." He laughed quietly. "And hey! This time I have you! It's not so pathetic."

Purpled chuckled, nodding along. "Well, it's the first time I celebrate my birthday with another person. It's not pathetic."

Fundy beamed, still in a good mood, and took the cakes out of the ovens. He waited for a little while, staring at Purpled, who just stared back. "Don't you think you are going to just watch. Come here and help me."

Purpled shrugged, taking a place right beside Fundy. They stacked one cake over the other, and started to decorate.

Minutes later, they had a somewhat pretty cake.

"It works." Fundy says, after thinking a little.

"It's the first time I decorate a cake, so it's beautiful."

"Eehh… At least it will taste good. It has chocolate." Fundy pointed out.

"Aren't foxes allergic to chocolate?"

"Irrelevant ."

They finished the icing and contemplated their creation before Fundy grabbed the plate, leaving the kitchen and hoping that Purpled would follow him, which he quickly did, even if he didn’t know where.

“If I ask where are you going, will you asnwer me?”

“I mean, it’s not only our birthday, is it?” Fundy contemplated as they passed the toll booth, making Purpled think a little. Yeah, it wasn’t only their birthday.

“Hey, so… Can I call someone else?” Purpled asked, communicator in hand already.

Fundy didn’t even finish saying yes and Purpled was already typing someone’s name into his contact info, waiting for just a few seconds until the other person answered his call.

“Punz? I need you to come over. Now.”

Meanwhile, Fundy was standing in front of a wall of lava. The heat was almost uncomfortable and was definitely unwelcoming. But Fundy had to come back home before Yogurt woke up, so he had a schedule to fill.

“Yo, Tubster!”

No replies.

“Cut the scene, I know you are there!”

Still no replies.

“I can literally see your shiny armor on top of the outpost, you idiot!”

Seconds of no answer, and then the lava started to go down. And so there he was, Tubbo Underscore, with the entire glory of someone who hasn’t slept in the last 2 days. Fundy knew that look pretty well.

“Why do you have a cake?”

Not a hello or good night. But Fundy was used to that.

“Do you know what day it is today?”

“Uuuuh…… Juuuuuunee..?”

Fundy waited to see if Tubbo was joking, all that was left it was silence.

“Tubbo…. That’s a month.”

“But it's the right month.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Are you sure of that, boss man?”

Fundy just stared, kinda worried for Tubbo, cake still in hands. “Today is July 7th.”

“Hm…”

They just stood there, Fundy being able to see the cogs turning in Tubbo’s head. Finally, it clicked. “Oh fuck! Today is July 7th!”

“Yes it is!”

“It’s our birthday!”

“Yeah!!!”

“Holy shit… I haven’t celebrated it since…”

Tubbo shut, eyes unfocused. Since L’Manberg was done. Since last time, at a tiny office with the height of presidential work on his shoulders.

“I know, I haven’t either.”

They faced each other again, and it was different now. It was a look that only them could have, suffering all of that. The cramped days at the van, L’Manberg, Schlatt, New L’Manberg. They could say something about it, some apologies, some “I missed it”, but they weren’t like that.

“I have a couple of cookies and regen potions at the back. Want me to get a couple of them for us two?” Tubbo smiled a little, trying to get back to their old routine.

“It's us three. There’s another birthday boy outside.”

“Wait, who?”

Purpled conveniently walked towards Fundy’s side, giving Tubbo a little wave. “Make it four, actually.” He showed the communicator. “I called Punz, also a ‘birthday boy’” He made quote marks in the air.

“Why do so many of us have the same birthday?” Fundy asked to no one in particular. Tubbo just shrugged, but Purpled had something to say about it.

“I mean, it’s not my actual birthday. I have no idea of when my birthday would be in this world.” He casually said, antennas slightly glowing in the night. “So, I just decided to snatch Punz’”

“Dude, I wish it was this easy to change birthdays.” Tubbo said, thinking. I’d change to something like…”

“4/20.”

“Fundy, you’re a genius”

“I know.”

Purpled smiled a little listening to them talking. It was comfortable, somehow, being part of something like that, even for one night. “I should have gone for 10/10” He added to the talk, taking out some blocks and starting to build a little desk for them to place the cake, outside of both Las Nevadas and the Cookie Outpost. Tubbo laughed, thinking about other funny birthdays while automatically helping. Fundy placed the cake on top of the desk, just staring.

“Wait. We have orange, purple and green. What’s Punz’ color?”

Purpled thought about it, but Tubbo already had a solution “The icing is white. He is white. Solved.”

“I’m what?”

Punz appeared out of nowhere, probably from an enderpearl. “You’re white, like the icing.” Tubbo explained.

“Also, you’re a birthday boy.” Fundy helped.

“There’s four of us” Purpled finalized.

Punz just stared at all four, letting out a sigh and taking off his armour. "Really, Purpled? I thought you were in trouble.”

“I’m never in trouble, you should be smarter than this.”

“You just… decided to throw a party?”

Purpled shaked his head, pointing towards Fundy. “It was his idea.”

Punz looked at the other two, they were arguing over the number of candles. Fundy wanted to put only four, Tubbo wanted to put as many as it could fit. For a moment, Punz could see two different people there, fighting over stupid shit as a third one just stared, amused. It was so familiar, but so different. It hurt.

“But hey, you don’t have to stay if you doesn’t wa-”

“Get me a chair, it’s free food.”

Purpled smiled, a real one for once, and gave him a chair.

The four of them sat on the table, Fundy being the one to stood up after finally settling with a normal amount of candles on the cake.

“Ok, now we sing.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“We ain’t singing, bossman”

“It’s sad if it's for ourselves.”

“It’s not??”

Purpled saw this banter would drag until sunrise, so he picked a bottle, catching everyone's attention.

“Lets keep it simple, boys. Happy Birthday to us.”

Punz gave him a small smile back, grabbing a potion for himself. “We made it through another year, what a win.”

Tubbo laughed to himself, joining the toast. “Still one life left, gotta keep like that until next year.”

Fundy was the last one, a grateful smile on his face. “Glad we have each other this time.”

“If the cake is good, I will come to next year’s party.”

“So it was nice meeting you, Punz.” Tubbo joked, making the rest of the table laugh a little.

And there they stayed until the sunrise slowly appeared in the distance, bathing them in a golden, lazy light.

“Damn, this was fun.”

“Not the best cake, but I’ll come back.”

“Fuck off.”

Tubbo was asleep on the table, finally able to relax. Fundy poked him, with no reaction.

“I can carry him inside, don’t worry.” Punz guaranteed, getting up.

“Thanks man, I have to go before my kid wakes up.” Fundy smiled, getting the empty cake plate.

“You have a kid?”

“Yeah, his name is Yogurt and that gremlin needs to be kept on a leash.” Purpled interrupted, earning a weak slap from Fundy. “Shut up, my kid is not a gremlin, he has just a lot of energy.”

Punz laughed, picking up Tubbo like a sack of potatoes, still with no response. “Thanks for the party, guys.”

Fundy smiled back, waving. “Happy birthday, Punz.”

“Happy birthday, boys.”

And they walked in opposite paths.

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

Taglist!

@a-wild-rosette @fishjuice @blipblipimafish @thenerdistrying @beepboopgalaxies (bc i know u like my writing for some reason) @geminisync (bc i want ur clout) @oakskull (bc if i press u enough u will read it <3)

#Not a commission #fundy #tubbo #punz #purpled #dream smp #HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE BIRTHDAY BOYS #hope u guys like it :D #i speedrun this

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yn-x-animeboy · 4 years ago

Text

Jungkook x y/n (as a famous artist) Pt.3

sinopsis: You are a popular artist in America, pretty famous, loved and well-known by the general public (actually you were one of the top 10 artists in the world but you are pretty humble and naïve to realize your popularity), one day during one of your fan meets you talk about how much you love BTS, and not only how you wish to meet them and work with them but how Jungkook is one of your celebrity crushes. During the meet you fangirled with other ARMYs in the crowd; video clips of you fangirling and talking about BTS at your meet where posted and reposted all over social media. This obviously broke the internet because you were not only a famous singer but you also were always accepted and loved by ARMY and this made a lot of people happy. Suddenly it felt like everyone wanted you to meet the seven handsome and talented idols and collaborate, but you could only wish, you believed they didn't even know who you were...or so you thought

pairing: reader x Jungkook

genre: fluff, romance, for entertainment purposes

BTS x Fem Reader

Parts: 1 here & 2 here

---

Part: 3 - The Jimmy Fallon Show

A couple of months have passed since your fan meet episode went viral and since BTS saw the video too. A lot has happened since then tbh, you kept working hard, you just put out your 5th studio album which is doing amazing in the charts, it reached no.1 for album of the year and 3 of your songs stand in the first places amongst other artists on the top 100 songs as well. BTS have also been working on music and projects, not a lot of time for you all.

Even though it has been a long time since your ‘fan meet’ episode was aired the media still brings up your episode highlights where you talk about BTS, it is not another really, it doesn't seem to affect you. Neither you or BTS have openly spoken about this to the general public, to them, it seemed like a cute exchange between you and your fans where they got ‘close and personal’. The only difference now is that your fans and ARMYs now have a ship name for you and Jungkook, and they still wish their ship could sail someday….

Thanks to the success your album has had in the short time it was published, you have been invited to multiple talk-shows to promote your new music and to basically catch up with the media. As an artist the whole publicity thing is important for your team and company. Even though it can be hard to ‘do press’ as a celebrity, you enjoy it and always do your best for your supporters. Your fans and everyone who became a fan of your infamous episode would troll around twitter writing things like ‘will BTS be on this show appearing with y/n?’ ‘AYe y/n watch out, they are going to surprise you with BTS’; but you didn't really have time to see them, only your team was aware. Your days working + rehearsing + promoting don't really give you time to scoop around your social media.

Today on your schedule: The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon. Tonight you will be performing and having an interview for the show. You love this show so much, you have been invited before, and you really feel comfortable on set in the company of Jimmy and his team/staff, they are always super nice and welcoming. You haven’t been there for an interview in a while and you are excited. (Even though it went viral, and it was your fantasy, the whole “I WISH I COULD MEET BTS AT A TONIGHT SHOW” was not really on your mind today, probablly because of how hectic your day was. You woke up super early and took a flight on your jet to New York, then you went to rehearsal to rehearse the song you’ll be performing tonight, went to the hotel and took a shower, went to two important business meetings for your record company, barely had time to eat, then went and had hair and makeup done for an afternoon interview for a radio show and finally some rest before you went to the Jimmy Fallon studio)

The Tonight Show starts at 10:00pm but you have to get there earlier to greet Jimmy and the staff, to quickly rehearse your performance, to go over details about the show, get ready, etc. You arrive on set at around 6:00pm in sweatpants, a baggy Ariana Grande merch T-shirt, sneakers and fresh hair from your second shower today. You walk through the door next to your personal bodyguard Lee and Manager Sam, followed by your stylist Meg behind you, you look around to see if you could recognize any familiar faces, The camera crew were setting up their high budget equipment, staff members cleaning, running around and preparing for tonight's live interview. Jimmy comes out from behind a door with casual clothes and messy hair, nothing like his sleek professional look on TV. Smiling he greets you and your team; he takes a step forward and hugs you tightly “Hi y/n it’s so nice to see you, it has been a while we have missed you, ever since your interview was scheduled for this week the staff has been excited to see you again, including me, you are one of our favorite guests to have over i swear” you look at him sweetly with hands on your chest from his hind words (the reason why they loved you so much was because you were different from other celebrities on the show, you were always super polite and nice to the staff and took time out of your schedule to greet everyone and introduce yourself, even though you were one of the biggest stars in the world you humble personality attracted many). “Omg stop Jimmy you are so sweet, I love your show so much it’s always an honor, thanks again for inviting meI wanna say hi to the staff, can I?” You said; Jimmy has been like a mentor to you when it comes to interviews and press, he was one of the first people to believe in you and interview you when you debuted. “Yes of course you go ahead, I’ll talk with your manager while you do so to catch up.” (They were good friends too)

While Jimmy and Sam catch up, and your stylist and bodyguard follow an assistant to put your stuff in the dressing room; you walk around introducing yourself to the staff; you visit the camera crew, the audio booth, the lighting crew, the producers, the PD, the meeting room, even the cafeteria. This helped you also to loosen up and feel more comfortable and confident for the show. After the greeting you quickly rehearsed with your talented backup dancers for the performance to get used to the ‘stage’ and the spacing.

One of the sweet staff members you just met offered to show you to your dressing room where Lee, Sam and Meg were waiting for you. You entered the spacious dressing room and sat at a small couch next to Lee (he was your bodyguard but sometimes even acted like a father/guardian to you, you were thankful you had a close connection with your team) You treated them all, including your dancers, to a mini banquet of food from the cafeteria and chatted about nothing before you had to start getting ready. Sam started getting constant phone calls, as your manager he was constantly busy on the phone, he ignored a couple of them but the caller seemed insistant, Sam saw the caller ID and shot up and ran outside to answer. “Ey no phones on the table mister” you teased as he was halfway out the door, he flipped you off and you back at him and proceeded to finish your snack; “Who would be so insistent, the company handles the calls when Sam has something to to with y/n… this interview has been scheduled for a month now…” Meg, your stylist commented, but you just just shrugged her shoulders as you swallowed the last bite of your sandwich, not really thinking too much about it. You stood up to brush your teeth after finishing eating. (what you failed to notice was Lee making a face to Meg basically telling her to ‘shut up’.... they knew something you didn’t but you didn’t see said interaction at all)

After 20-30 mins Sam came back as if nothing happened, you were now sitting in front of the large vanity mirror and Meg staring at your hair behind you. “Is everything okay Sammy?” You asked, thinking the call could be from a family member or an emergency, judging on the time it took. “No, yes- um it was just a catch up call, apparently the company did not answer their call in my place so they called me directly ignoring the fact that I was here with you.” he spoke. “Ah yeah, well that's good, well we finished our food and cleaned up so the girls (referring to the 2 backup dancers) and I could start getting ready but I left you and Lee some cookies and coffee on the table” you said pointing to the small coffee table in front of the couch that was previously filled with food, Lee, a 6’5 tall man sitting in a tiny couch with a cookie on his right hand and coffee on his left making space for Sam to sit next to him. cute.

You finish getting ready, hair done simple and comfortable for your interview and later performance, light natural makeup letting your natural beauty show off and fancy yet comfortable outfit that allows you to sit and dance comfortably. You felt really pretty and powerful. It was 9:30, only 30 mins before The Tonight Show started. before The live audience was allowed inside the studio you went over your dance quickly to make sure your outfit was safe to dance in, to make sure the music was the right one and to let the camera crew plan out their shots for the dance and interview segments. Once again you bought your head towards the staff and wished them good luck and a good show, you introduced yourself to the live band that accomplies Jimmy for the show as well and went backstage again for the final touch ups and waited for your turn to come out.

----

“.... and now here is your host...Jimmy Fallon'' he was introduced as the audience clapped for him and he walked across the set to his desk. “Hi, everyone, and welcome to THE TONIGHT SHOW!!!” The crowd cheered again for Jimmy. “Normally we have multiple guests on this show and from 10:00 pm to 12:00am we talk to multiple guests but today is a little different, today we have a very very special guest who will be with us. the. full. show!!!” The audience was comforted by a lot of your fans since it was announced you would be the guest tonight they prepared, and as soon as they heard this immediately stood up and cheered knowing it was you he was talking about. “She is one of my favorite artists, she is the sweetest, most talented artist today. Everyone welcome…. y/n'' The crowd went crazy as you came out from behind the curtain. Seeing everyone you bowed down to the audience and waved your hands, then you took Jimmy's hand to help you up the steps to the couch next to his talk show desk and sat down again bowing your head and mouthing ‘thank you’ to the still cheering audience.

“Wow the people love you y/n'' Jimmy said. “Hahaha no, stop, Thank you all, I love you so much I don't deserve you all.” you said blushing a little from the overwhelming support. The interview started normally, Jimmy introduced you properly to the camera and audience, you spoke about yourself and answered the general questions (‘What have you been doing these days?’ ‘Tell us about your album’.... blah blah)

After a couple of questions you did a fun activity with Jimmy where you created a funny sketch similar to the ones on SNL, you followed the lines on the promter and it came out to be a really funny and light activity to interlude the show. Then after a small break you went back to your seats and continued the Q&A.

“It's crazy, y/n’s latest album is the number one album in the country and she also holds the first, second and third spots for the billboard top 100 hits. You even broke a record for this, to being the youngest and first woman to ever achieve this.” Jimmy said as you smiled and looked at the cheering crowd. “Its crazy, I never thought one day I could even hold a place in the top 100, and now I actually hold 3 places plus another 1st place for album of the country, Thank you all so much for supporting me, this would've happened if it wasn't for all of the people who supported my music, Thank you for giving my music a chance.”

“So actually the next billboard award show is tomorrow, and y/n, we heard you are going to be performing.. is that so?” Jimmy smoothly transitioned form question to question, topic from topic. “Yeah I was blessed to not only be nominated for an award but to also be invited to perform for the ceremony, I am so excited, It is an honor, it not my first time performing at the billboard’s but I have so much fun every time, hopefully the audience will like my performance and the other guest performers of the night, I can’t wait.

“What are you performing tomorrow y/n?”, “Shhh it’s a surprise Jimmy, I can give you a little spoiler, I am performing one of my new album’s songs, it is one of my favorite songs on it” You smoothly avoided actually answering what song you would be performing tomorrow. “Mhm okay how about you tell me in secret during the commercial break I have to know…” Jimmy insisted “Sure Jimmy I’ll tell you”. “Okay so guys let's go to a short commercial break, but don’t leave cause when we are back y/n will be performing live, don't you miss it!” Jimmy said and waved with you as the producer called for the commercial break.

After the commercial break you got to perform one of your hit songs next to your back up dancers, you let yourself go to the music and enjoyed the performance; you really got lost in the music and dancing every time you had an audience, you loved this so much. After your performance you received a standing ovation form the people present on set, Jimmy went over from his seat to you, he congratulated and complimented you. He then guided you to your seat and gave you some water; he made some ads/sponsorship bits while you grabbed some air and while Meg retouched your hair and makeup while the cameras weren’t on you.

Jimmy then came back after another small break to proceed with the interview: “So y/n I actually wanted to talk to you about something really big” you made a face at Jimmy’s word choices (you had somewhat of a dirty mind) “Hahahaha, Don't make that face y/n, it's not what you think… God.. what a dirty mind you have; I meant I wanted to talk to you about something that recently happened and I’m sure everyone wants to have an update on'' Jimmy made himself clear. “Hahahaha oh, okay sure, tell me”

“A couple of months ago you went viral on social media after you talked about BTS on one of your episodes, and your fans and ARMYs went crazy, not gonna lie even I got excited” As soon as you heard Jimmy say “BTS'' your face dropped making the audience giggle at your reaction, you started to get anxious. “Hah-, um yeah that happened, I didn't expect for it to become such a big thing tbh Jimmy” you said.

“So in the episode you got asked by one of your fans something about how you would want to meet them or something and you mentioned how you would like to meet then on a talk show… like this one” Jimmy said with a smug expression taking over his face. You quickly spoke before he could say something else “Omg Jimmy stop, I swear if I look behind this couch and BTS is hiding behind it I will have a heart attack, please don't play with me, I’m not ready, stop that''

The crowd and Jimmy laughed at your cute panic. “Don’t worry y/n, no, I swear they are not there” Jimmy treasured. “IDK MAN, I’m gonna look behind the couch….” you dared; “Go ahead y/n” Jimmy fired back; this made you more nervous, you made a ‘I’m tough’ face at Jimmy and moved your body sideways, “If there is someone behind here I will run Jimmy, I. WILL. RUN. I don’t know where or how far but I will run out..” Jimmy and the audience laughed again and stopped as you looked behind the couch….. and…… there behind the couch…… there was…….. nothing. You started laughing as you went back to your original sitting position, the audience looking curiously at you. “Hahahaha ahhhh there is nothing there” whipping some laughing tears off the inner corner of your eyes you looked at Jimmy who was too laughing at you. “I told you y/n! ahahahah”

Jimmy looked at the camera and directed to the audience “For the people who don’t know what we are talking about and/or haven't seen y/n’s latest episode we have some clips for you” You looked at Jimmy and at the crew wanting to refuse due to your embarrassment, you felt exposed. The video played on the screen, the screen was split so that while the episode clips showed on screen your reaction could also be seen at the same time. Only a small trailer was played, which made you confused, you thought they would play the clips where you deeply talk about BTS…

The video stopped and the audience clapped, “Well that's just a small trailer of the full episode if anyone would like to go over and watch it it was pretty fun… I really enjoy ‘y/n’s camera roll’ episodes, I highly recommend” you smiled and appreciated the free proportion but you went anxious again as Jimmy spoke, “But y/n I actually have a small surprise for you, actually BTS saw your episode and reacted to it on camera…” You went stiff…. he said what???? BTS saw your video? they learned who your where?.... wait. THEY SAW THE VIDEO????? THEY SAW YOU FANGIRLING OVER THEM AND THIRSTING OVER JK AND HERD YOUR STUPID FANTASY????

“OMG Jimmy no…. AHHH no….” You said as realization dawned on you and you covered your face with your hands.

“oh y/n yes… and we have the video of their reaction here, for the first time ever, an exclusive for the Tonight Show…. watch the screen y/n'' The screen was again split to show your reaction + the video. You lifted your face from your hands and held on to Jimmy’s hand on the desk, bracing yourself for further embarrassment and probable rejection. The video played:

(BTS reacting to your episode. {the bullet points are your ‘present day’ reactions to BTS reacting to you})

The video started . “Oi, it’s y/n'' Jin immediately said as soon as your face appeared on their screen, “Is this a new episode?” Jimin asked out loud, “Wait what day is it? they normally go up on Friday, did we miss it?” Taehyung spoke.

“OMG no way, they know who I am, omg I’m crying Jimmy” You actually started tearing up and Jimmy squished your hands tighter as he read the subtitles added (you understood Korean).

“Hello everyone welcome to another episode of…. f** I don't even know what we call these videos, jajajaja” “Wait what?... jajajajaja omg guys thank you, I'm so sorry, yeah you heard them, welcome back to y/n’s camera roll, I can’t believe I forgot that, anyway today’s episode is a little different……” the boys chuckle at your genuine personality “hahaha gwiyeoun” (haha cute) Suga added, J-Hope agreeing with him as he gave Suga a piece of the food he was having. Kookie was currently watching the screen not even blinking, he hadn’t taken a bite out of his noodles or a sip out of his banana milk, Jimin noticed and pointed at him looking back at the guys with a silent laugh.

You kept crying and making faces reacting to them every time they spoke

“Hi, y/n, can I ask you another question?” “I saw that you liked an instagram post about BTS a while back uploaded by a fan account and I also saw that you actually follow their personal twitter account. ALSO in your behind the scenes video for your music video shoot you can be seen in the background dancing the Boy with luv choreo. So I wanted to ask if you were an ARMY and if you know them personally? and like should we be expecting a collaboration soon?”

“No way….Omg what she says she hates us” Jimin said. “Imagine if she said she hates us, is this why you guys are making us watch this?” Suga looked at the staff.

“OMG I could never, NO omg how could I hate them” you commented wiping away your tears and back to squeezing Jimmy’s stretched hand on the desk

“Can we keep watching hyungs…” Jungkook said looking around at the others, a bit desperate to find out what you said next. “Oi, wouldn't you want to know guki…” Jin teased him, wiggling his eyebrows and slapping the back of his head playfully. Before Jungkook could fight back RM reached over them and pressed play, preventing a ‘playful’ fight between the youngest and oldest member to take place.

You froze at the interaction between Jungkook and Jin… but kept watching not wanting to overthink it.

“OMG hahaha I love you so much, what an amazing question, Okay so first off no I don’t know them personally and sadly no plans of collaboration are on sight. Oh wow I have never been asked if I liked BTS before, I’m excited hahaha. Yeah I am an ARMY, I love them so much I am one of their biggest fans, and they are also one of my biggest inspirations when it comes to work ethic and professionalism, listening to them or watching them gives me motivation to keep doing what I love, which is this. anyway I am rambling I should stop; you guys can say y/n stop whenever I start rambling okay? hahaha''

RM stood up with hands on his head; Jin and J-Hope held on to each other with their mouths wide open looking at the screen; V was still sitting in the same spot, frozen, as if he was paused in time along with the now paused screen; Suga stood up with his hands on his mouth bouncing his knees lightly; Jimin reached to RM behind him and stretched his arms out with a ‘Did you hear that?’ expression; Jungkook leaned over the table and pulled the screen closer, he was smiling from ear to ear letting out a small “wow” under his breath, then he replayed your answer to listen to it one more time, rereading the subtitles under the video making sure he did not miss any words.

You chuckled at their individual reactions and resumed your crying at their reactions because you couldn’t believe they knew you and could be so cute towards a video of you

“y/n Okay so, who is your favorite member?” “Well first off, I don't have a favorite member. I really mean it when I say this. I love them all equally and I love them all as a group. I don’t prefer one over the other or like one better. I really do support them equally. I mean there is nothing wrong with having a bias, as long as you also respect the other members, hope that all made sense lol” Everyone seemed moved by your support towards them and nodded.

Again the boys reacted, they were so surprised they paused again and walked back and forth making sounds of excitement

Jimmy smiled proudly at you and helped you wipe a tear with a tissue

“Y/n so you don’t have a favorite, but do you have a crush on any of them?, like if you could date one of them right now, which one do you pick?” A fan asked. “okay...well...Like I said just to be clear I don't have favorites amongst the group members, but I do have a type…. I consider one of them to be my celebrity crush”......“So in that case, if I had to pick someone that I would date in real life...i would say…. Jungkook”

You put your forehead on Jimmy’s desk, you felt embarrassed, you knew what was coming, the audience was also reacting along and they got super excited at this part. You were scared over what BTS would think/say about this.

The. Guys. Went. Nuts. Jungkook immediately stood up and lifted his hands up in the air as if he had won an award, he paused the video and started smiling like crazy;

A staff member spoke to Jungkook on the video : “How do you feel Jungkook?” He lifted his face from his hands and ran his fingers through his hair, his eyes were glossy and his smile wide. “I-I don't know what to say, I can’t believe it,” he said as he sat down looking at the pause screen, looking at your still image. His hyungs patted him on the back; Jimin turned his head to the staff as he was rubbing JK’s back with one hand, “You know Jungook has had the biggest crush on y/n for so long now” Jimin told the staff.

you completely froze, you started shaking, Jimmy was looking at you happily, the audience was going crazy, even the crew was invested in the k-drama worthy content. You went numb, you kept looking at the screen frozen.

Jungkook looked up and spoke to the staff: “Yeah I remember listening to her debut song for the longest time without really thinking about who the artist was. When her first studio album broke records I decided to look her up, I watched a video of her talking about the album and her experience as a new artist and I think ever since then I have had a crush on her; she is my ideal type”

Everyone was going crazy in the Tonight Show studio. EVEN Jimmy let go of you and stood up pacing around his desk, no one was expecting this. You came out of your trance as Jimmy shook you and you wiped more tears clouding your vision.

“Why is she your ideal type?” a staff member in the back asked JK. “Ha. um. well I think my ideal type of girl is someone who is funny and has a bright and cool personality; someone who as soon as they step into a room they immediately light it up; someone who is goofy and isn't afraid to become a joke or mess up; A confident person; someone who isn't too girly or too boyish; someone who likes to learn new things and from who I can learn new things too; someone who is younger than me; Someone who loves dancing and singing a lot, etc. And y/n is kinda all that and more tbh;

You felt like you were dreaming… Totally forgetting you were on live television. The butterflies in your stomach felt more like birds. your heart pounding out of your chest and body glued to your seat.

The video of you time skipped again to the ‘fantasy’ answer’: “Okay so, my literal fantasy is to one day meet them at a talk show, you know how hosts like to surprise their guests with something/someone they like?, I believe Ellen has done it multiple times where she surprised a guest with their idol or celebrity crush, you know?” The group nodded, invested in your fake scenario “Well i would be invited to like the Jimmy Fallon Show, where he would just randomly surprise me with BTS. Then I would be given the opportunity to introduce myself and tell them how much I love and support them. I would also be able to show them my korean speaking skills, I learned Korean and Spanish back in school and I have never been able to actually use either them, lol, anyway...well after that we would all become really good friends, and we would collaborate and put out one or multiple songs for you guys. I mean that's basically it, I wish I could meet them, and become their friend and write songs with them, even produce songs with Suga or RM if I could''

you cringed at the sound of your voice, you were so embarrassed. The audience, crew and Jimmy found this and your reaction to be so adorable.

“What???? does she speak korean?” / “OMG Jungkook is she speaks korean marry her” / “OMG I wanna meet her now” / “That's so cute” / “She is so cool”

oMg, even after the video stopped you kept crying and sobbing, it almost felt like you had made it in life, you curled into a ball, you didn't care if you were live or not.

(end of video, camera was back to you and Jimmy only)

“y/n this is amazing, this was my first time watching the video too, how do you feel, hahahaha stop crying this is good y/n” He rubbed your hand and passed you a new tissue from his desk. You cleaned yourself up and accepted a new water bottle from a crew assistant.

“I- I’m at a loss for words Jimmy, I cannot even process it; I love them so much hahaha” You sniffed and looked at Jimmy innocently. “By the way I am so sorry for crying like this, ew I’m a mess right now, I so sorry for anyone watching”

“No no, you are good, your fans love you and love to see the real you; right guys?” Jimmy said looking at the crowd and once again they all cheered for you, this made you happy and you smiled again. “Thank You all so much, thank you to anyone involved in the making of this reaction video and this segment of the show AND FOR WHOEVER ADDED THE SUBTITLES FOR THE STUDIO hahaha, I am so happy, I want to keep crying but I will compose myself for now and once I go home cry some more hahaha”

“Y/N so obviously you are an ARMY, would you mind playing a small game with me?...” You nodded at Jimmy. “Okay so after the break we will be back with y/n, and she will prove how big of an ARMY she actually is…”

Another commercial break was called, Meg again came over and cleaned you up, she fixed your hair and makeup and then made you change into some sneakers (you performed in heels), fresh sweatpants and a shirt that compliment your figure. Your manager told you that for the next segment you needed comfy clothes. You had so much in your mind right now you didn’t even question it.

“Okayyy and we are back everybody, so right now as you can see y/n has changed into a more sporty outfit, right y/n?” you looked at him and at the camera and answered back. “Yeah, i’m in my natural form now” you said as you modeled your comfy wear

“So today I will put your BTS knowledge to the test, I will play a snippet of a BTS song, to your right you have two buttons ‘dance button’ or ‘sing’ button; you can either dance to the part being played when you hit the dance button or keep singing the song if your hit the ‘sing’ button.” Jimmy challenged you as he explained the next activity, to the left of you a small table with both buttons and a mic was set up, you accepted and started the challenge; the game went like this; Dynamite, dance; Mic Drop, dance; No more dream, dance; Daechwita, sing/rap; the crowd was super hyped and Jimmy was loving your energy and the way you executed the songs perfectly, suddenly you recognized Euphoria being played, you clicked the sing button and you started to complete the lyrics as the music was switched to ‘karaoke mode’… you started to sing and suddenly you heard a voice behind you singing with you, and you couldn’t even turn around to prove yourself you were not mistaken, you knew that voice too well, the live audience was losing it, the crew looked excited, you went numb, you looked back and it seemed like a joke, a complete dream…..

The seven guys were coming out from behind the curtain, being led by Jungkook, he was singing the bridge of the song, mic in hand and just looking at you. Your knees gave out and you curled on your knees as you cried on your knees, ‘there is no way’, you could even begin to process what was going on, The boys were a little shy and stayed behind you as Jimmy lifted you from the floor and made you look at them.....

----

PART 4 > HERE

AHhhh I love this part hahahhaha

Hope you liked it. PArt 4 is up; please give me a lil <3 if you liked this. :) Xx

#part3 #bts #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts imagines #bts scenarios #jungkook #jeon jungguk #jeon jungkook #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook imagine

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starstruck-shima · 4 years ago

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❄️Kaeya meets a Bunny Girl Senpai❄️

Notes: Kinda crack, references to Kaeya’s backstory, fem reader, heavily based off of/inspired by Bunny Girl Senpai.

“In which Kaeya questions his sanity over a wild bunny girl that only he could see.”

Sometimes, he wonders if he’s finally lost it. After all those years of working in the knights, experiencing the shithole that was his early childhood, and the split that happened between him and the man he still saw as his sworn brother, you’d be pleasantly surprised to see how Kaeya still persevered and became the infamous cavalry captain we all know and love today.

And yet there he was, taking a double take on the sight before him during his rounds around the city. More specifically, the sight in question was that of a girl, just around his age--yet unlike him, who at least considered donning on some type of protective wear (wether it was for the weather or public decency, perhaps both), she opted for a less... conventional outfit. It was the bunny ears that really caught his attention though.

He’s less intrigued by the black leotard, tights, and heels and more interested on who you are and why are you doing this. A wild bunny girl, with a vision strapped onto your collar too... you were most certainly a big deal. Yet why did no one bat an eye at you, or at least your appearance?

“You’re staring.” Those were the first words you said to him, and Kaeya blinks--seeing bunny ears nearly obstruct his vision. You could talk. He’s either imagining things even more or it was a sign that you had a mind of your own. Either way, he’s still a bit taken aback. “Huh, you can still see me.”

“Forgive me, I just couldn’t help but notice you. What brings you to Mondstadt?” He tries to carry on a conversation--a surmise way for him to ease someone into at least spilling a bit of info on them.

Your next answer caught him off guard. “I live here.” That certainly raised his suspicions. He’s been patrolling around Mondstadt for years, to the point where he knows the familiar faces of regulars at the Angel’s Share bar, and even the names and schedules of the knights who guard the city walls. Who exactly were you? Perhaps you were new? But you didn’t look like an outsider either... you felt right at home in Mondstadt.

“I’m (Y/n) (L/n), part of the Knights of Favonius.” His eyes widened a bit at the revelation. You were part of the knights? “Forget what you saw today. Farewell.” Before he could inquire further, you had disappeared right there and then.

Kaeya takes it upon himself to immediately read up on you. Records, testimonies from fellow knights, checking your rank, asking Lisa, he did it all. His findings surprised him even more--not much was known about you, and from what he heard, you’ve barely even showed your face--or rather, not much have actually seen you around. Some can’t even recall your appearance. Yet the records state otherwise. You definitely existed.

And so, Kaeya’s trip down down the rabbit hole had begun. After all, someone had to get to the bottom of this, and frankly, he was pretty much the only one who could, considering the circumstances.

It wasn’t long until you noticed his behavior, and it led to another chance encounter. This time, in front of your house. You knew he would’ve eventually found out in the records, yet you were surprised at his perseverance nonetheless. What was his deal? “Cavalry captain, why are you so persistent?”

He chuckles. “So you do know me.”You roll your eyes a bit. It was nothing, really. He was a huge a name here after all.

When you ask him why he cared for your case so much, he simply responds like it was common sense. You still don’t understand why. ”It’d be bad for me to let you run off on your own, you know? Especially in that.” His eyes gesture onto your clothing. Right, you almost forgot. “Consider it a favor.”

And thus, began your strange friendship with Kaeya.

It started a bit rocky, but as time passed, the two of you started to see past your differences. Petty remarks turned into playful banter, and suspicions were cast aside into genuine fondness--though none of you openly admitted to that.

Kaeya soon learns more of your predicament, after patiently waiting for you to be ready to open up. It started with an incident in your lab--you were testing the limits of elemental reactions, which led to an explosion.

At first, you thought there wouldn’t be any side effects, however, you quickly learned that the opposite was true, when Sucrose came to check up on the noise... yet didn’t notice you in the room. It only got worse from there.

So, you tried to test another theory. People were sure to notice and have a bigger impression of you in their memory if you caught their attention, right? Perhaps by making a huge impression, it’ll trigger a memory--hence causing them to remember. So, you opted for something that would definitely be a sight worth seeing (and remembering, to an extent). That was how you ended up as Mondstadt’s wild bunny girl, hopping around the city as a phenomenon waiting to be seen.

Yet somehow, only one man did. And amidst the time you had to bond, wether it was during a quiet meal in your abode after he helped you in getting groceries, or looking through the library for hints to solve your predicament, Kaeya and you proved to be quite the close pair.

Time was ticking however, and you knew that if Kaeya and you couldn’t find a solution, then sooner or later, you’d be gone for good. Left to be forgotten. A failed experiment.

It was something you never told Kaeya--something you kept hidden in your many papers dedicated in solving your predicament. You kept convincing yourself that it was better this way. He could go back to his knightly duties and continue protecting Mondstadt without an extra burden.

But what you didn’t know was that he found out. It was all adding up, really--the way you started to distance yourself from him, how you began stocking up on food, and the notes he read behind your back when you were away.

...Which meant he also read about the details of your planned experiment to make him lose his memory. And he didn’t like the idea one bit. He’d never abandon you after all you’ve been through. He hates the very idea of such.

So one day, when you asked him to meet you in front of the gates, wearing that same old bunny girl suit for shits and giggles, he knew what he was getting into. He calculated the time you’d finish prepping your little memory loss experiment, and today was the day.

You thought everything was going as planned. Kaeya didn’t once suspect the drink you gave him. Your first mistake. Your second was letting your guard down... as Kaeya had immediately chucked the drink into your lips, forcing you to gulp it down, choking in disbelief. Wait... did you see him spit it out right as he did that?!

“You--” coughing, you look at Kaeya in distraught. “YOU KNEW?!”

But the man merely chuckles, quoting a friend that helped him solve the mystery. Of course, in return, he had to submit a full, detailed report on your entire predicament, but he could care less. Thank you Albedo.“With equal force comes equal reaction.”

“I still don’t get what you mean--” you stiffen, suddenly feeling eyes on you, several people saying your name. Wait... if they remembered your name, could they see you?

“So that was where you ran off to,” You almost cry tears of joy when Albedo actually talks to you, walking alongside Sucrose to where you were situated. “I expect a huge explanation on how all of this happened--” he briefly turns to Kaeya. “--And everything in between.”

Still in the high of euphoria, you don’t notice the cold night air until Sucrose brings you back to reality. “Um... Ms. (Y/n), not to be rude, but... aren’t you cold in that?”

You stiffen, your mind wanting you to slap the blue haired man behind you for laughing hysterically in response. Right, almost forgot about that.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin kaeya #kaeya #kaeya alberich #kaeya x reader #genshin impact kaeya #albedo #sucrose #genshin albedo #genshin sucrose #fem reader

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paper-n-ashes · 4 years ago

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New Endeavours

Characters: Modern AU!Kylo Ren x Female Reader

Words: 2k

Warnings/Tags: Explicit (18+), Sugar daddy relationship, sexual references but no actual smut, bisexual vibes, attending a strip club.

Author’s Note: This is all because of my love, @maryforyou. An AU venture she ignited and I couldn’t let go of. Read into this however you want, I’m an open book in terms of exploring sexuality without labels. Being the first AU I’ve ever attempted, I kept this as an intro, to hopefully dive into the more explicit content I’ve been ruminating on for too long as a Part 2 (depending on how this is received).

“Are you sure this what you want?”

You smiled sweetly, smoothing out the creases in your dress as Kylo handed you your coat and gloves. “Like I said every day this week, I’m very sure.”

He still appeared doubtful, plush lips twisted in a disbelieving frown. “I could give you anything your heart desires for your birthday, princess,” he urged, helping you to secure the top buttons of your waistcoat, his large frame shifting close to yours. “This barely seems like enough of a gift for such a special occasion.”

Kylo was used to showering you with physical symbols of his adoration in the 18 months you had known him. The man had more money than he knew what to do with, lavishing all types of jewellery and clothing on you, some of the pieces you were certain cost more than your tiny apartment in the outskirts of the city. Every time you tried to refuse the extravagant gifts, Kylo always replied with sweetened notions of needing to worship and adore the personified goddess he saw you as. And when spoken in his infuriatingly mesmerising tenor, they would quickly conquer your resistance.

You were acutely aware of what this looked like from an outside perspective. A wealthy older man courting a young woman over 10 years his junior. Bathing her head to toe in the finest attire, parading her around in places a woman of her standing wouldn’t have been able to afford in two lifetimes.

A label came with this kind of behaviour. One you didn’t particularly like, yet was still true.

Sugar daddy.

There wasn’t a way you could deny that’s how your association with Kylo begun.

You’d heard whispers of other girls at the college you went to doing it. Offering their bodies to the affluent men of this city. At first, you’d scoffed at the idea. But when that third overdue notice of your credit card debt came, with the threat of eviction hanging over your head, you didn’t really have much choice.

A name was given to you of a bar that specialised in these kinds of meetings, completely covertly of course. And there Kylo had found you, hiding away in a secluded corner, stirring the gin and tonic in front of you with a single finger. At first, you’d assumed he was a well-dressed bartender, seemingly too young and strikingly handsome to be in need of a place like this. So you smiled sweetly and told him you weren’t quite done with your drink.

Within such an innocent interaction, Kylo knew he had to have you. And he did, 45 minutes later in the poorly lit bathroom stall, half-dressed bodies clutched together as he had you perch on the porcelain sink, fucking you with an uncharacteristically reckless abandon.

He hadn’t intended to. He hadn’t been entirely sure what he anticipated from that evening, the recommendation being given to him from a higher executive who regularly partook in the questionable operations of this establishment. Kylo meant only to scope the place out, sit for a quiet solitary drink out of the way of other patrons. There, he’d discovered you.

Shrinking into your stool, somewhat inhibited, clearly out of your element. The shy smile that spread across your face after he murmured a stiff hello ensnared him in moments, simply for how sincere it was. He wasn’t used to that.

Another thing Kylo wasn’t used to was the type of electricity that followed in your conversation. Rarely had he experienced an exchange that was so charged yet… genuine. You didn’t appear expectant, didn’t care to know how much money he made or the status of his career. You simply wanted to talk.

It was interesting how this fuelled an urge to make you speechless, to have you resorting to whines and whimpers rather than articulate your thoughts with any words. He didn’t act on them. Content to bide his time, play his cards right, set a precedence of composure and restraint in the hope of securing another meeting. You, however, had never cultivated the same type of discipline Kylo had.

After too many long minutes of flirtatious banter, you leaned forward, mouthing in a hushed tone, asking him to meet you in the women’s bathroom.

The chance encounter had bound you for longer than predicted.

Although never explicitly stated, the two of you fulfilled a portion of each other’s needs. Kylo required adequate distraction from his corporate life, someone who could slip into his erratic schedule with ease to… relieve him of mounting tension. In return, he provided you the monetary means to live in the city of your dreams without constant fear of homelessness.

In the months that passed, your arrangement turned into something stable, secure. His presence a constant in your life. While his working hours were long and finishing times unpredictable, Kylo could always count on you to be summoned to him from a single text message. Be it in the middle of the day, or the early hours of morning, you would race to a place of his choosing. Sometimes at his lush apartment, sometimes his office, and a plethora of restaurant bathrooms across the city after particularly stressful business lunches.

Initially, your involvement was kept mostly out of public view. Kylo had wanted to protect you from the judgements and negative connotations that were unavoidable in the arena of his work. Around the year mark, these reservations about being seen with you seemed to dissipate. Soon you were linked hand in hand at countless high-class dinners and charity events. A poised and elegant couple, right until the last set of eyes moved away.

This is where you had your fun.

As spectacular as Kylo was at fucking you until you saw stars, he’d surprisingly gone this long in life without venturing into more creative territory when it came to satisfaction. His version of sex was fast and hard, needing as much as you as he could get, chasing release with no frills or diversion. He’d never had the time, or the right lover, to encourage any of his deeply hidden fantasies. Until you.

You were game for anything. Sexually adventurous. Ready and willing to try all there was on offer just to elicit the highest levels of ecstasy. It was difficult not to be at the thought of Kylo’s hands, his mouth, his tongue, any part of him.

Although a little more slowly, he began to welcome new experiences, new pursuits of pleasure. Witnessing your reactions to these efforts became somewhat of an addiction for him. The way you writhed and squealed when exploring anal play for the first time. The way you surrendered and adored his verbal degradation and physical strikes. The way your body twitched and spasmed after the use of a newly obtained toy purchased with his platinum credit card.

You never pushed him, or forced him into anything he found uncomfortable in the chase of a sexual high. Communication was paramount, and boundaries were respected.

Interestingly enough, tonight was a boundary he never thought you’d cross.

“This is what I asked for, remember?” you smiled, taking the opportunity to press a gentle kiss to his nose.

Kylo’s apprehension refused to dissipate, while still clutching you closer. “It just… seems like this is something I will enjoy more than you.”

You barely withheld the urge to roll your eyes. “You’re sure about that, are you?”

His eyebrows crinkled, thinking the question over. There was the hint of a smirk that tugged the corner of his mouth, a subtle excited quiver in the breath he exhaled. “So you’re not doing this for me?”

“Not at all,” you breathed. Your palm slipped under his clean-shaven jaw, skating a thumb reassuringly over his cheek. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”

“You have?”

You hummed a yes, drifting your lips intoxicatingly close to his, staring up with wide eyes.

Kylo’s mouth twisted slightly. “I wouldn’t want you to feel jealous, princess.”

“You’re only looking,” you insisted softly. “And, even if you touch a little…” You bit your lip at the thought. “Those women won’t be who gets to be taken home and fucked until it hurts.”

There was a noticeable tensing in the arms circled around you, as Kylo’s eyes began to burn with an impatient greed. “I could do that now, right against this door.”

It was difficult to deny how you’d happily allow him to make true on that statement. To slam you into the exquisitely carved oak door of his apartment and fill you to your absolute limit. However, the tantalising image of your planned evening was too consuming, heaving and tugging for you to indulge a deeply embedded desire you’d never been brave enough to pursue.

“Save it for when we get home,” you chirped, reaching for the doorhandle and dragging Kylo into the hallway.

“Follow me,” the maître D instructed, her voice cheerfully welcoming. Even the sight of her silken, green dress was intimidating, the fabric glossing over her nimble shape as she guided you up the set of stairs. The lighting was low, almost too dark to see properly, Kylo’s grip strong as your steps were drowned out by the sultry music emanating behind the double doors at the apex. As they were opened to you, the hypnotic baseline ricocheted around your body.

You scanned around the large room, bold lights illuminating a risen stage with two currently unused silver poles at either corner. Plush chairs circled around, occupied by a differing array of men. Slinking between the patrons were women decorated with luxurious, high-end lingerie, each one styled and set to provoke unyielding temptation.

This was a completely new undertaking for you. Attending a strip club. Usually a male endeavour, seeking out instant gratification in the form of scantily clad bodies and paid attention. You knew this was an unusual request for a birthday outing, yet in truth there was nothing from Kylo you wanted more.

The two reasons were somewhat opposing, although they would still feed the same goal. Satisfying a craving.

One being that you had always found women to be alluring and captivating to a height you’d never really accepted, almost been afraid of. Only with time and maturity had you learned your attraction to them was a natural occurrence you were now ready to explore.

The other reason was a little more scandalous, and what you hadn’t quite articulated to Kylo yet. To have the view of his eyes roaming another woman’s almost naked body as she exposed herself to him, drove you wild. In a situation you should feel jealousy, you were only devoured by an uncontainable lust.

Occasionally your mind had forayed into imaginations where he would take another like he’d taken you countless times, able to watch his hands clawing at supple breasts, the smooth motion of his hips, how his thick cock would split a tight, dripping cunt in two. All the while he would deride and goad you, layering you with taunts, desperate to inflame your envy and ownership.

Your plan for this particular evening didn’t extend that far. You only wished to enjoy the performance of mesmeric women in their most enchanting form, observe Kylo’s undeniable arousal at the same lithe, flexible bodies, and return home to remind him that only you could ignite the billowing flames of a violent release.

Oh, but that plan crumbled when you’d each settled into your seats, just in time for the next show of seduction. A pair of glittered, platform heels slinked near to the pole closest to you, your vision roaming upwards over the statuesque figure they connected to. Delicately laced, ivory fabric shielded her most intimate portions from full view, conforming flawlessly to the curves of her figure. Somehow demure yet indecently sensual.

Lips parted, your breath hitched as the exquisite woman twirled around, her eyes trained to you as she let a wicked smile appear. You were sure this was a regular occurrence, a flirtation she expressed to all the patrons in this room. Yet, as she began to move in time with the decadent beat of the music, her eyes stayed transfixed to you marvelling stare.

In an unprecedented display of courage, you beckoned Kylo closer to you, whispering to his ear. “Her. That’s what I really want for my birthday.”

*To be continued*

Let me know if you don’t want to be tagged in future works!

@tlcwrites @roanniom @maryforyou @mariesackler @sacklerscumrag @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @finn-ray-nal-beads @mylifeisactuallyamess @hopeamarsu @foxilayde @goddesstonythetiger @caillea @direnightshade @blackberries45

#kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #modern!kylo #cw:sugar daddy #cw: bisexual

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liquid-luck-00 · 4 years ago

Text

Connections 9

Chapter 9

this is based on @thepeacetea daminette soulmate au

Masterlist *** First *** Previous *** Next

Warning ⚠️ Character death

~~~~~~~~~~

Mari always thought her soul bond was curious. She never heard or activated the bond on purpose. She doubted her soulmate did either, because of what Bruce had told her about the league of Assassins. But everything seemed just off. Apart from that one switch she never had contact again. The only thing she has to gleam of her soulmate are the abilities she learned through him. She settled into bed after biding her papa goodnight.

That might not be a bad thing. As soon as that thought crossed her mind was she pulled again, but this was different.

---

Time seemed frozen for Damian.

His mother came for him again. She brought an army and him, an older version a clone of himself. She brought his clone Heretic, who was pulling the sword from Damian's chest.

I lost, he thought as the sword fell from his hand.

Father, Batman, rushed towards him when two orbs of light circled above him, one red and one green.

The red light morphed into a girl with a high ponytail and a red mask covered her eyes, her eyes emanated a red light. She was dressed in a basic suit that resembled a cross of Nightwing and Red Robin's uniforms, just all red with black spots, gloves, and boots.

The green orb turned into a boy a short cloak covered his torso, the hood covered his head and face, two cat ears were part of the hood, his eyes were glowing green. A tail flicked around under the armor set around his waist.

The girl looked at him now in his father's arms.

"No!" she yelled everything fell silent to him as he watched about a dozen more orbs appeared each forming a figure in either red or green. All except the first two moved and quickly dispatched the clone, the army of assassins, and pushed mother back.

His vision faded to black.

He could no longer feel his father's arms under him.

---

Nightwing, Red Hood, and Red Robin were now around Batman and the fallen Robin. The past holders of the miraculous formed a ring around them, linking hands. They moved them all to the Bat-cave.

"Come back little one." Hippolyta, if she remembers what Tikki told her, cupped her face as she faded away.

"Tikki," she whispered out.

"What's wrong?" the little goddess rubbed her eyes.

"I... We... Cave... Now." She managed. She transformed and swung through Gotham unnoticed until she reached the cave under the manor.

The past holders and her cat were still there. She dropped her transformation and ran to her extended family.

"Pixie how?" Jason had taken off his helmet and hugged her.

"You were there weren't you." Tim stated, so she nodded confirming his theory.

“He is neither alive nor dead he is in a plane between the two." A cat, Hei Mao, dressed in a long sleeved black gi, armor plates on his right upper arm and a cat mask on top of his head, eyes like the other cat apparitions were glowing green a black domino mask covered his eyes.

"How is that possible?" Bruce coaxed himself to whisper, cowl down and holding back tears.

"He is your bonded. You are tethering and maintaining his soul whole." A ladybug in knightly armor, red glowing eyes like all the other ladybugs spoke, Joan of Arc.

"My bonded," Marinette breathed under her breath.

"The magic which flows through your veins flows through him. He is your..." the only male ladybug, a red feathered headdress and red cape, red warrior paint covered his eyes and stained his hands, Micazoyolin, added only to be interrupted by Dick.

"Soul mate." Dick gasped from next to her.

"It is possible to revive him." a woman in a loose black dress and a Jaguar patterned cape with green under the cape. A black Jaguar headdress with long green feathers sat on her head green warrior paint on her face and hands, Ocelome, drawled looking between Damian's lifeless body and the green soul of her cat. "By using the waters of the Lazarus."

A gasp was heard from the bats and birds in the cave, Mari flinched further into her big brother Jay. Mari began to sag from exhaustion and the visages of the past holders began to flicker.

"Perhaps this conversation is best held elsewhere," Hippolyta broke the silence. "I, Queen Hippolyta of the Amazons, invite all of you to Themiscyra. Until we meet in the flesh my child."

Two by two each pair of ladybugs and their cats disappeared, all but the solitary cat, her cat, remained. Everything was still and silent within the cave. No one knowing how to proceed, so they stayed as they were.

None of them could tell you how long they stayed like that, but a new voice started.

"Bruce care to explain why my mother told me to bring all of you to Themiscyra." Wonder Woman appeared on the Bat-computer. "By Zeus. The apparition of the cat. Do you know what this means?" Bruce’s back was to the computer, Damian’s body still in his arms protected by his cape from Wonder Woman’s sight.

"Yes we do. Come by around noon everything should be sorted by then." Bruce brought himself to say, Tim ending the call after a nod from Wonder Woman.

"Come on pixie let's get you home before the sun rises." Jason put on his helmet. She nodded, transformed , and let Jason pick her up as they left the cave.

Jay-Jay stopped a few blocks away, she moved and clung on his back like a baby koala. As Red Hood swung and ran across the roof tops. He tucked in his little sister and left.

---

One moment he was dying in his father's arms. No he did die in his father's arms. But what was odd was the tug after a moment in the darkness.

The next he was standing in the Bat-cave next to his father and his body. The first girl in red was gone, but the others were here still. About 10 minutes later a red figure of a girl swings into the cave. If he could move or speak he would have. Or maybe not. The figure was engulfed in pink light and there stood Marinette Stone. She ran into a hug from Todd.

"Pixie how?"

"You were there weren't you." Drake stated, Marinette must have understood the statement as she nodded her head. It was silent until one of the green and black figures spoke.

"He is neither alive nor dead he is in a plane between the two." Hei Mao, the other voice in his mind supplied.

How am I not dead?!

He could still not move or speak so he stood and listened.

"How is that possible?" he heard his Father.

"He is your bonded. You are tethering and maintaining his soul whole." Joan of Arc, the voice again supplied.

"My bonded," Marinette, the voice supplied but now he placed it, the voice is Marinette.

"The magic which flows through your veins flows through him. He is your..." the only man in red, Micazoyolin, Marinette corrected his thought.

"Soul mate." Grayson shrieked.

"It is possible to revive him." Ocelome, she supplied and he took the intonation, without our analyzing now. "By using the waters of the Lazarus."

He heard his family suck in a breath and seem to become stone still, Marinette flinched further into Todd who was hugging and seemingly guarding her.

"Perhaps this conversation is best held elsewhere," Hippolyta broke the silence. "I, Queen Hippolyta of the Amazons, invite all of you to Themiscyra. Until we meet in the flesh my child."

Two by two each pair of ladybugs and their cats disappeared, all abut him. He still could not move, he could not speak either, but his mind raced.

I am dead.

Actually I am apparently not alive or dead.

My best friend is my soulmate.

My soulmate does not hate me.

She knows. She knows me. She knows my aggravating family.

She is stuck with us, with me.

Marinette is my best friend who happens to be my soulmate.

His thoughts would have continued had it not been for the voice coming from the Bat-computer.

"Bruce care to explain why my mother told me to bring all of you to Themyscira." Wonder Woman, "By Zeus. The apparition of the cat. Do you know what this means?"

"Yes we do. Come by around noon everything should be sorted by then."Father spoke his back to the screen shielding his body from vein.

"Come on pixie let's get you home before the sun rises." Todd finally spoke taking Marinette home.

Father finally stood, for a moment he looked at him and then his body before moving to place his body in a portable cyro-chamber in the Bat-plane.

Then the darkness returned.

---

The next morning she woke up with a resolve that everything would turn out fine.

Okay sure I just found out my best friend is my soulmate. the was killed by his clone, but he is in a state of limbo. Okay this was a lot but this is not the end of the story.

So as she, her papa, and Penny were having breakfast a knock sounded at the door.

"I'll get it." Penny excused herself. "Tim what a surprise come in." Tim was promptly sat at the table a mug of coffee and pancakes were placed in front of him.

"What brings you here so early mate?" Papa chuckled after watching Tim chug the coffee.

"Well, we were planning on a family trip for the week but..." he started. "B locked himself in his office and Damian won't budge, so" he looked at Jagged. "We were hoping that we could steal little bean for the week since both of them can't say no to her." he rushed barely stopping to breathe.

"Whatcha say little rock star," Papa turned to her smiling, "want to spend the week with your brothers?"

"Yes." She jumped up and hugged her dad and ran to her room to pack. Tim-Tam joined her a minute later as he asked Diana about the climate of the island.

"Why can't we go too, Lucky Penny?" Mari heard her papa ask.

'Sigh' "You've got a full schedule, why don't we plan something for the following week, your clear then." they heard Penny compromise.

"Rock 'n hear that little star," Papa poked his head in as they finished packing. "Maybe we'll steal one of Bruce's birds next week for our trip." He semi whispered the end.

Tim seemed surprised at the comment but schooled his features quickly, he picked up the suitcase and Mari pulled her papa out of the penthouse suite, gave him a hug as she went with Tim.

Less than an hour later she was sitting in the Bat-cave having loaded the bags in the Bat-plane, with the three eldest Wayne children and Bruce, waiting for Wonder Woman.

"Hey Mari can I ask something?" Tim sat down next to her.

"What is it Tim Tam?"

"What did Jagged mean when he said one of Bruce's birds?" Everyone was now watching the two and listening to the response that was to follow.

"Oh, um papa might have figured out that Uncle Bruce is Batman." She was now fiddling with her fingers in her lap. When no one answered she continued. "Remember a couple of months ago when the Sirens crashed Papa's concert. Well when Uncle Bruce and Jay Jay moved me and Papa away and into his dressing room, B didn't make his voice gruff and gravelly as Batman's usual voice. So papa thought maybe his voice isn't usually as gruff and the new voice is actually his real voice, and once papa hears a voice, he never forgets it. I promise I never told him and I never told him he was right but he is pretty sure and I don’t think he’ll even believe you if you tell him he’s wrong." Mari scrambled to say, ending it with a small sad smile looking up through her lashes at everyone.

"Father like Daughter," Bruce was the first to speak. "Everyone is getting a permanent voice modifier installed in their suits." This resulted in every one laughing. Effectively breaking the tension previously in the room.

"Smart idea B." Jason answered making Mari smile wider.

That was when Wonder Woman decided to arrive. Ending the conversation as they boarded the Bat-plane leaving for Themyscira.

~~~~~~~~~~

Permanent Taglist🐺🐾: @itsmeevie01 @miraculouspenta

Taglist🐞🦇: @thanks-captain-obvious @mandy989 @our-preciousss @readingismyoxygen @birdy912 @shifty-lesbian-retro-goblin @todaylillypads @laurcad123 @demonangel27 @be-happy-every-day-please @fandom-trapped-03 @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @t1dwarrior-of-earth @saays-bitch @k-poplunardreams @animegirlweeb @weird-pale-blonde-person @myazael @toodaloo-kangaroo @moonlightstar64 @miraculous-simmer7 @wannajointhecrabcult @blackmagicforever @iamabrownfox @justcourttee @consumeconstantly @abrx2002 @livelifeauthorstyle @certifiedbidisaster @dreamykitty25 @ironspiderstark @fantasyislive @dast218 @susiej1118 @sassakitty @lilyreadbooks12 @dawnwave16 @mochegato @galla02006 @nathleigh @trippingovermyfeet @promiswords @rosep16 @officiallydarkgeek @inarachi02 @justafanwarrior @emimar7

#maribat #dc x miraculous #dc x mlb #miraculous x dc #mlb x dc #past holders #daminette #maridami #damimari #marinette x damian #damian x marinette #soulmate au #Connections AU

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morganofthewildfire · 4 years ago

Text

Ivy - Epilogue Part One

Masterlist

I wanted to put this all in one part, but it would’ve been way too long, so i just decided to split it here, where it felt natural. Hope you enjoy! And stay tuned for part two (the actual last part of ivy 😭)

CW: mentions of sexual assault, NSFW, slight panic attack, and fluff!

- 7k words

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

August, 1887

Aelin knew she wouldn’t get a single wink of sleep that night, for a multitude of reasons.

For one, she hadn’t been sure Aedion was ever going to leave her alone to even go upstairs to bed, badgering her and Elide, who’d recently found out she was with child, about the early stages of pregnancy, and the best ways to try for one. He’d asked her many times if she was comfortable talking about it, and she’d assured him just as much that she was. She’d had to add that there wasn’t much advice she could really give, but she was willing to try. He’d taken that statement and run. And despite her insistence she was fine, it still weighed on her mind hours later.

Secondly, the finishing touches of her house were supposed to be done that day, and the workers were hours behind schedule, which was causing her a lot of stress, because everything had to be finished by tomorrow night. Because tomorrow was her wedding day.

Which brought her to her third reason. She was going to be up all night because she was so filled with anxiety and anticipation and nerves that she didn’t think she’d be able to close her eyes without wishing they were already married so Rowan could be with her. She’d see him in less than twenty four hours, but she needed him now.

Aelin didn’t know what the issue was, didn’t know exactly what was driving her to chew her lip practically to shreds, but she had an idea. Even though it had been a year since his death, and over two years since their wedding day, it kind of felt like none of it happened, like it was all a bad dream and she was waking up and getting ready to marry him instead.

She was sleeping in her childhood bedroom, there was a garment bag with a dress hanging on the door, there was the roiling in her stomach that she was pretty sure was going to make an appearance soon, and worst of all, Rowan wasn’t there.

She took a deep breath. He was dead. He wasn’t coming back. She was getting married to Rowan, and they were going to live in the house they’d built together.

Yes, together. They would be together.

One of Aelin’s first steps after things had calmed down the year prior was making sure she got the inheritance she’d worked for. After waiting a decent amount of time of course, to avoid any suspicion.

The banker had been sympathetic, and happy to help out, especially when she wore her best black, with a low cut neckline she accentuated, and started crying in the middle of the meeting. He was perfectly amicable after that.

Aelin had been forced to wear black for many many months, stuck in a period of “mourning” when the only thing she was mourning was the fact that she couldn’t kill him again. But that wasn’t all the way true. She was mourning the person she’d been before she even married him, the person without the constant heaviness pressing down on her. She ignored that heaviness most days, so well that the only person who really noticed was Rowan.

The step after securing the money was making sure that his, her, company was sorted. Turns out, he didn’t actually do much with it on a day to day basis, so it was pretty self sufficient. She made sure to give Vaughan the job that he’d been unfairly denied, and he was pretty much running things now. She’d trusted Rowan’s judgement for that decision, unsure on her own, but Vaughan was proving them both right.

He and Lyria were married now, with a beautiful baby girl, and they were both incredibly grateful to her. Aelin just deflected, saying she was the grateful one, for all they’d done for her before. Because it was true.

The next thing that she’d made sure to do was officially put in her offer to the bank for 510 Mistward Street. The house that had watched their relationship blossom. When Aelin had thought of the idea to renovate it and live there, Rowan had agreed heartily, and kissed her so much she felt breathless. The memory brought a smile to her face.

Her offer had been accepted quite quickly, as no one else was even remotely interested in the disaster, but it had taken the whole year to fix it up. The house was falling apart, and she’d had to hire workers to take it from the very bones to the masterpiece that it was now. Rowan hadn’t seen it yet, and she was excited to see his reaction. A surprise from her for their wedding day.

Which was tomorrow. Tomorrow.

A smile crept onto her lips, a soft, peaceful one as she thought of him.

He’d really been her rock the whole year, the one thing she was always sure was going to be there for her to lean on. Unfortunately though, to avoid too much scandal and suspicion, they’d had to maintain a certain distance the whole time. Aelin was still living with her parents, not quite back on her feet, and he was living at his house. There was only a certain amount of times he could visit without it drawing notice.

So they’d taken to using Aedion’s house quite a bit. She’d visit under the guise of him being her cousin, and he’d visit under the guise of him being his friend. Just conveniently at the same time.

Aedion had been shocked when they’d told him, holding hands as he looked at them with confusion. But he’d been happy after a moment, hugging them both. Rowan had been particularly nervous, but Aedion had thanked him for being there for his cousin, after yelling at him for leaving for a year. Aelin had shoved him back for that, explaining it all to him.

So Aedion was happy to host them then, understanding why they couldn’t be that visible to the public.

Not that she really cared. No. She’d grown way past caring what the city thought of her, and luckily her mother did too. But she didn’t want Rowan in any way shape or form to be associated with the death of her husband, and people may get suspicious if he was seen as trying to scoop her up so quickly.

Even though several people already were. Once her parents had started taking social calls again, Aelin had almost had to shut it down due to the sheer number of people showing up. There were the socialites, and the vapid elites, offering their fake sympathies while not so subtly asking if she was planning on continuing the same sort of social life her husband had maintained. Which was a resounding no. Then there were the single gentlemen, who were only the slightest bit connected to him, coming by in swarms trying to charm the newly made wealthy widow.

Rourke Farran had been the worst of those, waltzing in with his sleazy smile and his eyes that held nothing but promises of bad intentions. Aelin had been forced to talk to him, as he was a close friend of her husband, but she’d been disgusted by the way he looked at her, as if he expected her to be interested in him just because he was the same sort of person as his friend. He should’ve known it would be just the opposite.

So she’d made him leave quite quickly, and then had found an excuse to go to Rowan’s to vent about it to him. He’d asked if she wanted to announce their engagement so everyone would leave her alone, but she’d shook her head.

She wanted a small wedding, so unnoticeable that no one would know about it until it was too late to interfere.

And that’s what she was getting.

Aelin sighed and rolled over in her bed, staring up at the ceiling, making sure to track the pattern etched in over time, consciously telling herself it was different from the ceiling she’d stared at in bed for a year. It had been a few hours, and she still couldn’t sleep. Probably not the best thing given she likely wouldn’t get much sleep the next night either, but she was not going to take a sleeping tonic, having sworn those off after everything.

There was always a reason she couldn’t sleep, it wasn’t just random, so she’d learned to identify that cause instead of just managing the result.

So Aelin sat up, pushing the blanket off of herself as she turned, searching for her slippers. Fleetfoot whined, looking up at her sleepily.

“Go back to sleep, girl,” she whispered, pulling her dressing robe on. But Fleetfoot just got up, slinking tiredly over to her, a constant loyal companion. Aelin chuckled at the sight. “Fine, but don’t be a bother tomorrow because you’re tired.” Fleetfoot shook her head like she was shaking the tiredness off, looking up at her with as much of a smile as a dog could give, and Aelin reached down and scratched her head, laughing again.

She sighed and headed to the door, opening it quietly to head out into the hallway. The issue with today was that there wasn’t one specific issue on her mind. There was just a mess of unease. A mess of nerves and bad memories pushing at her head, traveling invisible hands on her body, heaviness in her heart.

Maybe a glass of water would help. It was the only thing she could think of without Rowan there.

She walked down the hallway carefully, trying not to disturb her parents in their room, or the servants downstairs as she and Fleetfoot made their way down into the kitchen. She filled a glass from the tap quietly, sipping on it as she went back upstairs to the main parlor, breathing deeply and holding the glass with both hands as she watched the outdoors through the front window.

It was dark outside, and the stars were shining, so she focused on that, letting a small smile creep on her face as she thought of the time Rowan had dragged her out in the middle of the night to go look at the constellations. She’d gotten a stern look from her father when they got back inside, which had Rowan stuttering out an apology before Rhoe laughed and clapped him on the back. Both her parents were ecstatic for them, just happy that she was going to be happy.

And to think, once they were married, they didn’t need anyone’s permission to go look at the stars. They could just go do it.

Aelin closed her eyes, resting in that moment, before turning to head back upstairs. Hopefully that would be enough to calm her down. Even if her heart was racing, like something or someone was going to jump out at her any second.

She huffed as she climbed the stairs, hands shaking and making water spill out of the top of the glass. Fleetfoot whined when Aelin stopped, bracing herself against the rail as she took slow breaths, fighting the nausea inside of her.

“I’m fine,” she told her dog, trying to chuckle, “just moved too quickly.”

After a moment, she pushed off the rail, taking careful steps back to her room, ignoring the panicky feeling in her chest. Once inside, Aelin went to set the glass on her nightstand, spilling part of it in the process.

“Shit,” she cursed, watching as it ran down to the floor. She grabbed a handkerchief she’d abandoned and used it to try and clean up the spill, a tear forming in her eye as she watched her hands shake. She leaned forward and rested her head on the edge of the table, dropping her gaze to the floor as she breathed.

And that’s when she saw it. She furrowed her brows as she reached for the little corner of paper, half hidden under the nightstand. She picked it up, revealing a full unopened envelope. A maid must’ve brought it up and it fell before she could find it. Her heart stopped when she noticed the handwriting on the front.

It was from Rowan, dated with that day’s date.

She plopped herself onto her bed and opened it quickly, well as quickly as she could with her shaky hands. Fleetfoot jumped up with her, giving her a kiss before circling and plopping down next to her. Aelin ran a hand over her fur as she unfolded the letter.

Dear Fireheart,

I don’t know if you’ll read this by the time you go to sleep tonight, if a maid will bring it to you or if you’ll even see it in all the chaos of the day. I dropped it off this morning, right outside your front door, so hopefully the travel time isn’t long.

She chuckled, a smile remaining curled up on her face.

I know I saw you yesterday, and I know I’ll see you tomorrow, but I can’t help but wish I could see you right now too. I wish I could spend everyday with you, every heartbeat and memory shared. And the answer two years ago would’ve been devastating, but the answer now is exactly the one I want to hear. Because now we do get to spend everyday together, our heartbeats and our memories will be shared. And I can’t fucking wait.

A tear rolled down her cheek as she read the letter, her free hand twirling her ring around her finger. She didn’t wear it in public yet, but she wore it whenever she was at home, reveling in its weight on her skin, so much different from the other ring, which was sitting abandoned in a drawer. She couldn’t quite bring herself to throw it away, but she didn’t want it to be anywhere where she could see it.

I’m so ecstatic to be able to call you my wife, to be able to hug you whenever I want, to kiss you whenever I want, to be there at your side whenever you need me. And something tells me you probably need me right now. Not to sound too presumptuous, because I know you never like to admit you aren’t okay, but I know you, Aelin, and I know some things you’ve tried to bury may be coming up.

And that’s why I’m writing this. Because as your future husband, and as the man who loves you more than he ever thought was possible, I want to make sure you feel safe.

Aelin looked down, squeezing her hand tightly to stop the shaking.

So let this letter be a reminder. He’s gone. He’s dead. He can’t ever come back and find you. You don’t ever have to go through anything like that again. I’ll be here for you for the rest of our lives, and I promise that I’ll protect you from anything that may try to harm you. I love you so, so much Aelin, so much that I sometimes feel like I may die from it, and I’ll do anything before I let something hurt you.

The words made her tears stronger, spilling from both eyes now as she basked in the pure love radiating from the ink. He loved her, and there wasn’t anything that would get in the way of that. Because Arobynn was gone.

But I’ll talk about some lighter things too. This may make you mad, but I walked past our house the other day, not even on purpose, I was there before I realized. And I saw the work you’ve done so far. I can’t even recognize it anymore. But that’s good, because that place was a shithole. But I can still see the same hint of warmth that that house had, even when it was nothing but rotting wood and some falling bricks. I mean, that house has done a lot for us, and the mailbox out front, so I can’t exactly be too critical.

But you can’t get too mad at me, because I have absolutely no idea what the inside will look like, and I cannot wait to see. I can’t wait to get married tomorrow, to pick you up in your wedding dress and carry you through the door to the house we’ll live in together. I can’t wait to make it our own, to see our life play out in those four walls, see our love only grow. I can’t wait for our family to maybe one day grow, to hear little footprints running up and down the stairs, with Fleetfoot right by their side.

Our life is about to begin tomorrow, our real life, the one we should’ve had two years ago. And that’s the most I could’ve ever asked for. You letting me stay by your side.

To whatever end,

Rowan

Aelin cried into her pillow, happy tears for the first time in what felt like forever. She was smiling at the letter too, a fond one that left her thinking what she had done to deserve a man who would do something like that for her. One who knew that this night would be hard for her, and had done something to try and ease the burden.

“I love you,” she whispered to the paper, to Rowan, who was only minutes away. And she fell asleep easily with the letter clutched to her heart.

---

Rowan woke up that morning with a smile on his face that he couldn’t seem to temper. He’d be going about his morning routine, brushing his hair and wrangling his cuff links from wherever they had found themselves in his closet, and a smile would grace his lips the whole time. Simply because of what that day was, and who he would see in a few hours.

Because he would soon get to call Aelin Galathynius his wife. Finally.

After so many years, so much turmoil and heartbreak, they’d get a happy ending. Well, as much of one as possible. He wasn’t naive enough to think that this was going to erase everything that happened. His ring for her couldn’t erase the invisible weight of the old one. His kisses couldn’t get rid of the heaviness in her eyes. His touch couldn’t wipe away the scar on her back. But he could try.

Rowan sighed as he finished buttoning up his shirt and jacket, making sure his hair was styled but still a little floppy, like Aelin had said she liked. The smile returned. Gods, he was lucky. But, only some of it was luck. He was lucky that she let him be by her side, but they’d worked hard to be where they were now. Especially her.

A knock sounded on his front door, and Rowan left his room, trekking down the hallway to the front entryway. He’d sent his housekeeper and butler home, telling them it was a day to celebrate and that he could handle himself. And he could. They were really just a formality. He’d talked about it with Aelin, and since they were going to be moving into a bigger house, they’d need a few more servants. But they both agreed to keep it to a minimum, wanting to be a little more simple and self-sufficient now. She for sure didn’t want the suffocating presence of dozens of silent servants, staring at her while she suffered and not doing anything about it. Not that that would happen now, but he knew it would still make her uncomfortable. And this was supposed to be the opposite of that.

Everything he was doing now was to make sure she felt as safe as possible.

Just like the letter he wrote her yesterday, trying to give her a little bit of comfort when he couldn’t himself. Her parents and all of their friends were traditionalists, insisting that the pair not see each other the night before. Aelin and him hadn’t been too thrilled, but they’d listened.

“Rowan,” Aedion greeted with a smile, waiting on the other side of the door. Rowan opened the door further, to let his friend and one of his groomsmen walk in.

“Hey man,” he said, but Aedion didn’t enter, just pulling out an envelope from his jacket.

“I can’t come in, I have to get back to the fussy bride,” he joked, “but I’m supposed to give you this.”

Rowan smiled softly and took the letter from him, running a thumb over the ink that spelled out Buzzard.

“I’ll see you at the temple,” Aedion said, before mock-saluting him and leaving. Rowan chuckled and walked back into his house, sliding down onto the couch in the front parlor and opening the letter quickly.

Dear Buzzard,

Thank you for the beautiful letter. I’d say it brought me to tears but I was crying already so I can’t really attribute that to you.

Rowan laughed, imagining her writing the words with that snarky smile of hers, knowing he would automatically know it was a joke. Even if it concerned him at the same time.

But I appreciate the sentiment just the same. You truly are the one who knows me best. The only one who knew that last night would be hard for me. But it’s frustrating because I don’t even know why. It’s just lingering feelings all festering in the back of my mind, and they decided to come out last night.

But enough of that. It’s our wedding day, and I won’t ruin it with that gloominess.

I can easily imagine how you look right now, with your hair and jacket askew, a dopey smile on your face that you can’t seem to calm.

He scowled jokingly at how right the description was.

I’m about to have a whole parade of people helping me. Marion, my mother, Elide, Lysandra, and my maid, so I barely have time to write this. I just needed to let you know that I love you, and I appreciate everything you do for me. I truly don’t know where I would be without you in my life. Well I do know, and it’s not something I like to think about.

I can’t wait to see you in a few hours and finally get to call you my husband. It’s certainly been long enough.

Love, Aelin

P.S. I’m mad about the house. How dare you ruin my glorious surprise?

Rowan laughed, setting the letter down on a table as he stood up, heading to finish getting ready. He’d have to add that to the collection he had from over the years. True to his word, he hadn’t gotten rid of a single one of them, and he wasn’t planning on it. He’d build a shrine out of them if he could, that physical proof of their love, but he knew Aelin would curse him for a fool. She knew what those letters meant to him of course, but she would be fondly exasperated all the same.

Gods, he couldn’t wait to see her.

The next few hours passed by in a blur of anticipation, his stomach rolling with nervous excitement as he waited. And then he was going, sitting in the back of a carriage with his arms braced on his legs, the dopey smile returned.

He watched the street as he passed, confused at how the world could look so normal when everything was about to change. But to be fair, no one knew they were getting married. Aelin didn’t want a lot of societal pressure or invasion of privacy, and he understood completely. After a year shoved into the spotlight, it made sense that she wanted to be left alone. And after the murders and the fire and that damned ball, he knew she wanted to keep all suspicion away from him.

He didn’t care either way, he just wanted to marry her. And he was about to.

Rowan took a deep breath as they pulled up to the temple, the small one that Aelin’s family usually went to. It wasn’t the main one downtown that she’d gotten married at last time. This one was smaller, more private, a little more homey.

He barely registered getting inside, being pulled up to the front quickly by Aedion and Lorcan, who were both smiling, the former’s broader than the small one of the latter. Vaughan and Lyria were sitting down, their newborn cradled in Lyria’s arms. Elide was off somewhere, as well as Lysandra, likely with Aelin and her mother. Marion and Cal were sitting on the other aisle from Vaughan and Lyria, chatting quietly.

It was then that Evalin appeared, smiling at him softly as she went and sat down by the Lochans.

“Are you ready?” Lorcan asked as Rowan took his place next to him, facing the altar.

“I’ve been ready for a long time,” he said strongly, heart beating fast as the soft violin music started. Lorcan chuckled and walked back down to the seats, taking his spot there. There wouldn’t be anyone up at the altar but Aelin and Rowan.

He had to focus to avoid fidgeting, picturing the scene behind him. Lysandra and Elide were probably entering right now, dressed in soft gowns. Aelin had said she didn’t need anyone else to walk down the aisle with her, but they insisted.

He could imagine them now, smiling at the small audience as they took their seats. The unmistakable sound of Fleetfoot’s collar reached his ears and he chuckled. One thing Aelin had demanded was that her dog be their official ring bearer, and he’d agreed easily, laughing while she huffed.

Fleetfoot pranced up to the front, panting as she sat down next to him. Rowan reached down and scratched her head, smiling at the animal. She’d brought Aelin a lot of comfort in the past year, and he’d grown to appreciate the dog as much as her.

And then the music changed, and it was Aelin’s turn. He could imagine her so clearly, her soft smile more radiant than her golden hair. Her arm was likely intertwined with Rhoe’s, leaning against him as he led her up to the altar.

He loosed a breath as he sensed her walking to stand up next to him. And then he turned around, his head skipping a beat as he met her gaze.

Gods, she was so beautiful.

The golden hair that he loved so much was pulled back gently, just the front pieces tied while the rest hung in loose waves. Her dress was simple, just smooth silk laying gently over her curves, with sleeves making it modest and graceful, like she was an angel deigning to come down to Earth. She was his angel.

“Hi,” she whispered, smiling up at him, and he couldn’t stop the tears from falling as he smiled back.

“Hi.”

——

Aelin laughed wildly as Rowan yanked her from the carriage, hoisting her up in his arms and spinning her around as he laughed too.

One hand was under her legs while the other was around her back, holding her close to him as they hurried up to the house they could now call their own. She wrapped her arms around his neck, peppering kisses to his neck as he walked them up, not even caring who could see. They were married now, no one could say anything against it.

Pure joy was filling her, bubbling out of her, and she couldn’t stop giggling, like she was drunk on love.

“What’s so funny?” Rowan teased, using the arm around her waist to pinch her lightly through the fabric of her dress as he got closer to the front door.

“We’re married,” she said, smiling into the skin of his neck.

“Yes we are,” he murmured, smiling through the words. Aelin buried her face into him as they got up to the door, the door she had painted the exact color of his eyes.

Here they were, about to enter the house that would be their home. Rowan tightened his grip on her, anticipation clear. She didn’t like to think of it much, but this was so much different than her last wedding day, when she’d admittedly been shaking with fear.

It was a day she tended to block out of her mind, and a night she’d do anything to forget, but so far, Rowan was keeping all of that at bay.

Affection rushed through her and she placed a sweet kiss on his cheek as he opened the door slowly. And a rush of air left him at the sight. Aelin smiled.

She’d spent all the time she wasn’t sorting through her new finances planning the details of this house, asking Rowan subtle questions about what he would want so that she could curate it to exactly what fit him, fit her, fit them.

And it seemed she’d done a good job.

She traced little mindless circles with her finger on his shoulder as he took it all in. His eyes were wide as they traced the front entryway, gazing over the warm wood floors and the white painted walls, the paintings she’d picked out meticulously, the crown molding she’d had restored and the delicate chandelier on the ceiling.

Without saying anything, Rowan moved slowly into the front parlor, taking in the comfy velvet couches, the soft rug, the soft curtains lining the large windows, all of it in jewel tones, dark green showing up throughout. He kissed her hair, eyes still wide as he carried her, her head resting on his shoulder as they ventured slowly through the other rooms on the floor. They passed through the large, cozy library, the dining room that had enough seats to fit all of their friends and family, and then the drawing room in the back, the room that they’d met in that fateful evening. The fireplace was all refinished, the floor cleaned off and replaced, the window redone, but the essence of it was the same.

Rowan let her down then, letting her slide to the ground, landing delicately on her heels, her skirt falling around her. But he didn’t let her get far, holding her close as they looked at the room that had helped finally bring them together. Peaceful warmth filled her chest.

“Come on,” she murmured quietly, squeezing his hand. “I want to show you upstairs.”

Rowan didn’t say anything, but squeezed her hand back, letting her lead him. So Aelin pulled him out of the room, going up the stairs that were accented with a nice emerald green rug. Nerves struck through her the longer he stayed quiet, worry that he didn’t like it making her chew on her lip.

“There are five bedrooms up here,” she began rambling, “ours is in the back, and the rest are just set up as guest rooms right now. But they can easily be changed to a… nursery,” she added hesitantly, smiling softly as he pressed a kiss to her hand. And what she said was true. It could be easily converted. She’d made it that way, so that when the time came, they wouldn’t have to worry.

They stopped at a room and she pushed open the door, revealing a comfy looking bed and a nightstand, a mirror and a dresser on the other side. It wasn’t too special, so she led them out, heading to the back where their room was. But then a thought struck her and she looked at him nervously, beginning to ramble again.

“I know he and I had separate bedrooms, I didn’t even think about that here,” she said, her voice shaky, “if you want I can move into one of these spare ones. Actually if there’s anything you want to change, let me know. If you want to change everything that’s fine. I tried my best, but if I - I”

She trailed off, looking at him cautiously. Rowan just dropped his hand from hers, using both of them to each up and cup her face. He leaned his forehead against hers.

“You’re remarkable, Aelin Galathynius,” he breathed, “so godsdamned remarkable.” He laughed softly. “You built us a house, baby. A home. Why would I ever want to change that?”

Tears pricked her eyes. “Whitethorn,” she corrected. He furrowed his brows.

“What?”

“Aelin Whitethorn,” she repeated, smiling broadly. “I’m Aelin Whitethorn now.”

Rowan’s smile widened more than she thought possible, and then he was leaning down and capturing her lips with his.

“I love you,” he breathed into her, and she murmured the words back. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her deeper, making her melt into him as she brought her arms up to his neck.

His tongue brushed her lip hesitantly, and she opened for him, letting him claim her mouth. Warmth filled her veins as she closed her eyes. They hadn’t been together like this since that time before the murder, as he wanted to give her some space and they wanted things to be more traditional this time. There were plenty of times over the year where they’d slept in the same bed, when Aelin had had a nightmare and was unable to calm herself down without him there, but they hadn’t done this since then.

It was a welcome feeling though, like she could sink into his embrace and never let go. Unlike her previous wedding night, when she’d wanted to do everything she could to get away.

But they took it slow, and she pulled back for a second to get a breath of air, keeping her eyes closed. Her heartbeat raced, and she wanted to attribute it to him, but she knew it was edged with something else.

“What’s wrong?” Rowan asked, caressing his thumb over cheek. “We don’t have to do this if you have any hesitations.”

“No, I -“ she shook her head. “I want to, it’s just…” she squeezed her eyes shut, shuddering slightly. “I don’t want this to be anything like - last time.”

Rowan paused, brushing her skin softly, waiting for her to continue, to tell him like he knew she needed to. In her mind and her heart she knew it wouldn’t be, knew that he would never treat her that way, but the lingering dread was still there.

“I was so scared, Rowan,” she whispered into the air between them. She reached up and clutched his shirt tightly. “I was already heartbroken, and forced into a marriage with a man I hated, but then, that first time, I didn’t know what to do.” Tears sprang to her eyes as her voice got weak. “I knew I didn’t want to, and he knew I didn’t want to, but he didn’t care.”

A small sob escaped her and she cursed herself for crying on their wedding day. But it was a wound inside of her, and it was festering. “And afterward, I felt like shit. He made me feel like I was nothing. Worth nothing.” She shuddered, and looked up into Rowan’s green eyes to ground her. “And he called me a whore for that not being my first time, even though he already knew it wasn’t, and I’m glad it wasn’t because then it would’ve hurt even more.”

The scars on her back tingled, itching beneath the silk dress that she made sure covered them, like all of her clothing did now. Most days she didn’t think about it, but it was a painful reminder of everything whenever she did.

“I just wanted to disappear” she admitted quietly, “I wanted to hide inside of myself and never know what was going on, every single time.” Her hands shook. “I don’t ever want to feel that way again.”

“You won’t,” Rowan said resolutely, “you will never have to feel like you’re anything less than the most important person in my life. In every single person’s life that you touch. You bring light with you wherever you go.”

There were tears on his face too, and she sniffled, darting her eyes away. The emotion in his eyes was overwhelming on top of her already tumultuous heart. But his presence was like a balm to her aching soul, and she leaned in closer to his warmth. She needed him to help her start to heal the wound left in her heart, to clean out the tarnish inside of her.

“I love you,” she murmured, breathing in his comforting scent. “And I know you’re not like that, but…”

“It’s a big step,” he reassured her, “it’s okay if you’re not ready. I’d never push you to be.” She took a deep breath.

“I am ready, though,” she said, looking up at him from beneath her lashes, trying to smile to add some humor to the heavy conversation. “And I refuse to go my whole wedding night without getting ravaged by my handsome new husband.” She placed the back of her hand on her forehead, increasing the dramatics. It succeeded in making Rowan laugh.

“Together then,” he said, smiling softly down at her.

“Together,” she confirmed. And it seemed in that moment, they turned into magnets, unable to fight the pull toward each other. His lips met hers softly, making a small sigh escape her as she closed her eyes and melted into him, her hands coming to slide up around his neck as his dropped to her waist.

He slanted his head, slowly coaxing open her mouth and swiping his tongue through. He held her so delicately, but Aelin wanted more, so she nipped at his lip gently, teasing him. Rowan groaned a bit and pulled her closer, wrapping his arms more tightly around her.

She broke for air, gasping, and then smirked and pulled him down the hallway to their bedroom, trying her hardest not to trip. He barely even had time to process the comfy room, with its large bed with tons of blankets and pillows on it, and the two large closets and the fireplace across from the bed, before she was pulling him to the bed.

Rowan smiled softly before laying her down on the comforter reverently, one hand on her waist while the other tucked a piece of golden hair behind her ear. He was partially braced over her and she lifted her hands to his shirt, tugging at it.

“Off,” she demanded, chuckling as humor lit in his eyes. But he listened, sitting back and undoing all the buttons on his shirt, practically ripping it off with his tie and coat, leaving him shirtless. Aelin almost moaned at the sight.

Then he leaned back down, kissing her gently as he reached for the sleeves of her dress. Her breath caught.

“Is this okay?” He asked, concern shining.

“Yes.” She nodded, reaching up to press a kiss to his lips as he began sliding her gown off slowly, caressing the bare skin he revealed with every inch of movement. Her dress this time was much simpler than before, so it was easy to take off, leaving her in a chemise and drawers, no corset and no bustle to worry about.

She’d started slowly gaining some weight back over the months, so she was more confident in how she looked now than she had last time. Not that he cared last time, but it was a step in the right direction that she was preening at his lust filled gaze instead of shying away. Especially when he took off her undergarments, leaving her bare before him.

Aelin smiled teasingly and reached for the buttons of his pants, laughing when he cursed as she palmed him through the fabric.

“I think these should go too, don’t you think?” She asked, tilting her head up at him as heat ran through her.

“I would say so, yes,” he chuckled, reaching down and peeling them off with his undershorts without moving from his position over her.

Her eyes immediately went to his length, widening her legs to give him space as her mind remembered what it was like to have him inside her. Rowan leaned up and pressed a deep kiss to her lips as he nudged at her entrance, and she wrapped her legs around his waist to encourage him to keep going. So he did.

He entered her slowly, making a deep moan escape her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, grasping onto his silvery hair as he began moving. His movements were restrained, not wanting to push her too much, but she began lifting her hips to meet his thrusts, which spurred him on.

“Gods I love you so much,” he breathed into the skin of her neck, and she moaned, her cheeks flushed with heat. Every thrust was bringing her closer to that cliff, every movement making more warmth pool in her core. And when he reached down and rubbed a thumb over her most sensitive spot, she broke, moaning and sighing and clenching around him, dragging him off the cliff with her.

His pace stuttered as he spilled himself inside of her, and she wondered how she’d waited this long to do this again.

Rowan collapsed next to her, panting, and Aelin curled into him, feeling his arms wrap around her as they both breathed heavily. The moment was peaceful, and she was glad to say she’d never felt safer than she was right there in his arms.

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