#Breastfeeding and returning to work

[slvbum]

POSTPARTUM OVULATION ♡ Rafe Cameron!

content WARNING: Rafe Cameron × Bunny!Reader marriage, mentions of breastfeeding, postpartum ovulation, pain, cock warming, sexual content, +18 MDNI.

based on this request HERE!

Ovulation made her body a battleground of hormones, and the pain this time was excruciating—a sharp pinch deep in her pelvis, radiating through her lower abdomen like a cruel twist. Between the exhaustion of breastfeeding and the endless days caring for their four-month-old, the pain was her enemy, sapping what little energy she had left.

Rafe noticed immediately when he stepped in, his sharp eyes catching the tension in her shoulders, the way her lips pressed into a thin line. He’d been working late, but his concern overriding everything else.

“Let me take her,” he said softly, his voice a low rumble as he reached for Marie Thérèse.

She hesitated, her arms trembling, but she nodded, too tired to argue. Rafe lifted the baby with practised care, cradling her against his chest as he murmured a quiet lullaby, carrying her to her crib. The room fell silent as he tucked her in, her small breaths evening out, and he returned to find his wife gone from the nursery.

He found her in their bedroom, sprawled on the floor in a starfish position, her silk nightgown hiked up to her thighs, her head tilted back as she stared at the ceiling Her face was etched with discomfort, a soft groan escaping her lips.

“I can feel this horrible pinch,” she muttered, her voice laced with frustration, her hands pressing uselessly against her lower belly. “It’s so annoying.”

Rafe’s heart clenched at the sight, and he moved quickly, kneeling beside her.

“Come here, baby,” he said, sliding his arms under her, lifting her effortlessly as she winced, her body limp against his chest.

He carried her to the bed, laying her down gently on the soft sheets, her nightgown slipping further to reveal the curve of her hips.

Rafe’s hands were warm and firm as he began massaging her, starting at her belly, his fingers kneading the tense muscles just above her pelvis.

“You need to relax a bit,” he murmured, his voice soothing but firm. “Breastfeeding and taking care of Marie all day is wearing you out, mama.” His hands moved lower, working her thighs with slow strokes, easing the tightness in her legs as she sighed, her body starting to unwind under his touch. He shifted to her feet, his thumbs pressing into the arches, rubbing circles that drew a soft moan from her lips. “I’ll take care of everything tomorrow,” he promised, his gaze locked on her face, watching the pain ebb. “You just rest.”

Her eyes fluttered open, a mix of exhaustion and longing in her gaze as she looked at him.

“I need you,” she whispered, but she shook her head weakly. “But I’m too tired…”

Her words trailed off, her body aching for him yet drained from the day. Rafe’s cock twitched at her admission, his desire for her simmering beneath his concern, but he nodded, understanding.

“Alright,” he said, sliding onto the bed beside her. He pulled her close, guiding her to straddle his lap, her nightgown bunching around her waist as he freed his hardening cock from his boxers, the thick length pressing against her slick, fertile cunt. “Just feel me, then,” he murmured, easing her down slowly, her tight heat enveloping him inch by inch.

She gasped softly as he filled her, her pussy stretching around his girth, the sensation a mix of relief and pleasure despite her fatigue. She nestled against his chest, her face buried in the crook of his neck, her breath warm against his skin as she moaned faintly. Rafe’s arms wrapped around her, holding her tight, his cock buried deep but still, resisting the urge to thrust as he felt her pulse around him.

“Fuck, you feel so good, mama,” he groaned, his hands stroking her back, keeping her secure. Her hips shifted slightly, a subconscious grind, and the friction sent a wave through her, her clit brushing against him as her arousal built.

She came with a small, relieved sound, a whimper escaping her lips as her body shuddered, her cunt clenching around his cock, milking him without him moving. The orgasm was gentle but profound, easing the pain in her pelvis, her exhaustion melting into a soft haze. Rafe kissed her forehead, his lips lingering as he held her close, his own need unfulfilled but his heart full.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered, letting her rest against him, her breathing evening out as she drifted toward sleep, still impaled on him. “Sleep tight, mama.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ©slvbun(m) — written with love.

[pathologicalreid]

separation anxiety | S.R.

spencer's first case back from paternity leave involves children, so a concerned party reaches out to you for help

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: mom!reader, dad!spencer, vaguely described breastfeeding, word count: 1.28k a/n: this is technically the reid family from cryptic, but you don't have to read cryptic in order to understand this fic.

Your book rested in your lap as you pinched the thin paper of the novel between your index finger and your thumb. You had one foot on the ground, and the other was on the bottom of your daughter’s stroller, effectively rocking the stroller in two-four time so the infant would stay asleep.

Just because the A-Team wasn’t around didn’t mean there weren’t people working in the BAU. A crying baby would certainly disrupt the workflow in the bullpen – even if the baby belonged to a member of the BAU. Although, you had already fed her – mostly covered – at Spencer’s desk, so maybe you were past the point of no return.

You and baby Nellie had just been staring at each other at home – she was doing tummy time – when your phone went off. A mysterious text from Derek Morgan had popped up on your phone screen.

Derek Morgan: Got a sec?

It wasn’t that you and Derek never texted, it’s just that it was usually under the realm of “on my way” messages and, more recently, baby pictures, but you usually communicated indirectly using a massive group chat that was created by none other than Penelope Garcia.

So, when you answered and he asked if you’d be able to meet the team when they arrived at Quantico, you hesitantly said yes. He explained more once they were on the jet, the case that they had been on involved young children, and there was a little girl that had struck a particular chord with your boyfriend – who was on his first case back from paternity leave.

Eleanor was three months old, and you weren’t sure who’d have a harder time being away from one another – her or Spencer. You hadn’t considered how Spencer would feel when confronted with a case involving children now that he was a father. Quite frankly, you had hoped that he would’ve had more time before he needed to face a situation like that.

You waited, still using your foot to rock Nell’s stroller as the cover diffused the fluorescent light, you could hear her moving now, likely having woken up from her nap, but if she wasn’t crying, you saw no reason to stop her from playing with the colorful toys that dangled above her.

Sighing, you peered up from your book to see the elevator opening on the sixth floor, revealing the team behind the steel doors. Morgan clocked you first, winking as he passed through the glass doors to the bullpen.

Spencer hadn’t noticed the two of you yet, so you slowly opened the cover of the stroller and picked your daughter up, holding her gently to your chest. The infant fussed a bit while she was being moved, effectively gaining the attention of her father, whose face lit up at the sight of his family waiting for him at his desk.

Pushing past the rest of the team, who had also noticed the small being in the room by this point, Spencer approached his desk, haphazardly dropping his bag on the metal surface before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Before even bothering to separate your lips, he was taking the baby from your arms.

“Hey,” he murmured, pulling away from you slowly as he secured the baby in his arms, bending his neck to place his lips on the crown of Nell’s head, “I missed you, angel girl.” His voice was gentle as you looked on fondly, she reached out a small hand and gripped the collar of his shirt. “How are you?” He asked, turning his attention back onto you.

You smiled at the two of them, using a cloth to wipe the drool from her chin before Spencer took it from you, deftly draping it over his shoulder in case he needed it shortly. “Good,” you answered, “tired,” you added.

Across the bullpen, Emily waved at Eleanor, grinning broadly as she walked over to her desk with JJ. To her enjoyment, the baby responded by letting out a coo and smiling before turning her attention to her dad, nuzzling her face in his chest, “Did I miss anything?”

Raising your eyebrows, you shrugged, leaning back and sitting on Spencer’s desk, “She pushed herself up on her arms yesterday.” It wasn’t a massive milestone – you were still grateful that Spencer had been present for her first real smile.

“Oh, yeah?” He responded, proudly looking down at his daughter, who had moved on from nuzzling and was now trying to see just how much of her hand she could fit in her mouth. “Did you know that babies usually go through a sleep regression right before they learn a new skill?” He asked, directing the question at Nell, “That must be why your mama looks so tired.”

You waved him off, crossing your arms in front of your stomach, “She’s lucky she’s so cute.”

The familiar click-clack of heels notified you that Penelope Garcia had made it to the party, likely signaled by another member of the team, “The cutest little girl in the world!”

Even though every member of the team had held your daughter at one point or another, you weren’t entirely comfortable with her being handed off like a hot potato. This, combined with Spencer’s aversion to germs, led to an unspoken rule: wait until one of her parents offered to let you hold her.

“Did you want to take her for a bit?” You offered, looking over at Spencer as you did. He needed time with her, it wasn’t your intention to deprive him of that, but you needed to check in with him without the distraction of the baby. Handing her off, you spoke up, “Watch your earrings,” you tapped on your earlobe, “She will grab them.”

As Garcia held the baby, she made her way around the bullpen, allowing Eleanor to make grabby hands at everyone and everything.

Keeping an arm around his waist, you looked up at your boyfriend, “Are you alright?” You asked, keeping your voice low as there was no sense in airing your concerns to the now bustling office.

Spencer’s smile faltered ever so slightly, “They were just kids. There have been kids before, but now…”

“Now you’re a dad,” you finished for him. “It’s not just something that you could see happening to someone else; it’s something you could see happening to yourself.” Pinching his side slightly, you smirked at him knowingly, “You know, your levels of empathy and sensitivity increase when you become a parent. Your brain adjusts to make yourself a better parent.”

Rolling his eyes slightly, Spencer raised his eyebrows at you, “You know, I vaguely remember telling you something very similar last week when you were crying at an ASPCA commercial.”

You reached up to ruffle his hair, “Nice try at sarcasm, babe, but you and I both know you never vaguely remember anything.”

“How did you know to come here? That I’d need to see her?” Spencer asked, watching as Penelope continued to parade around the BAU, now taking her up the stairs and through the roundtable room. “Was it a mother’s intuition?” He suggested, taking up a lighter tone.

Turning around, your eyes followed Garcia as she walked with Eleanor, “I was contacted by a concerned party.”

Spencer followed your gaze, “I’ll thank Garcia when she gives our baby back.”

You hummed, “Actually, it was Derek, he-“ Your voice cut off abruptly, “Oh, Penny, I told you she’d grab them!” You called from Spencer’s desk, but Garcia was already on her way to return Eleanor, holding one hand to her ear as she handed the baby back to Spencer.

[satansdarlin]

Royal flush

Gambit/Remy LeBeau x Fem!Reader

NSFW tags: Oral fem receiving, breeding kink, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

Minors DNI

Word count: 3126

Not beta read so excuse any grammar mistakes

Written because of an idea from- @fandomzwriterk 💜

If you liked this check of my masterlist or put in a request if they are open

Remy was like a dog caged as he watched his loving partner bouncing Jean and Scott's son on her leg as she chatted to Jean. Why did she have to look so good just doing something like bouncing a baby? He loved her, he really did. But seeing her so close with another family just... irked  him. Jealousy wasn’t a normal thing for him. But (Y/N) just looked so damn happy. He was trying not to watch, but... he couldn’t stop himself. He leaned against the wall and just... watched her. It wasn't like he was jealous of Scott or Jean for spending time with her. No, in fact it was a far different reason. He was jealous because.. it should be him and (Y/N) doing that with a kid. Gah, he was getting worked up just imagining it. Imagining her all big and pregnant with his kid, her glowing that special way only pregnant women did. Holding their kid, being a perfect mom. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts as he continued to stare.

She glanced up feeling his stare and gave him a soft smile. He was surprised that she caught him staring. He was usually better at going unnoticed. He returned her smile, albeit a bit sheepishly. Damn, he felt a bit like a middle schooler, being caught staring at his crush. He didn't need to feel sheepish he internally reminded himself they had been together for so long and his ring was decorating her finger now. Kids wasn't something they had talked about yet both anxious about the idea of having children. Being mutants and still having to fight back against the anti-mutant campaign was hard enough imagining having a little bundle of joy that was also a mutant? Terrifying. But... the thought was intoxicating. Just imagining her belly swollen with their kid. Merde, he was getting worked up by this whole chain of thought. He couldn’t help but imagine her being all motherly, holding a baby, breastfeeding. His baby. He shook his head again, trying to clear his thoughts.

She passed the baby back to Jean and made her way over to her husband.  "You've been starin pretty hard" she spoke in a teasing tone. He couldn’t resist returning the teasing tone. 

“Well, can you blame me, baby?” He eyed her up and down again, almost salivating. “You’re lookin’ pretty damn good tonight.”

She glanced down at herself in slight confusion. She was just wearing one of his older shirts and some jeans. A completely casual attire.  "You're just easily impressed, hun”

He laughed. “You’re wearing my shirt. You know how much I like seein’ you in my shirt.” He reached out, grabbing her hips and pulling her close against him. “Besides, even if you were wearin’ a potato sack, you’d still look damn good.”

She snorted a bit and kissed his cheek not minding how his scruff scratched a her lips.  "You're actin off baby. Somethin up?”

He let out a hum, pulling her in closer so she was against his chest and he could wrap his arms around her. “Just watchin’ you with the kid got me a bit worked up.” Understatement, he thought.

She looked up at him with a sense of understanding.  "Yeah? Kids huh?" She didn't sound judgemental or opposed but rather curious. 

He leaned down, resting his forehead against hers. “Yeah. They ain’t ever really been a though in my mind. But…” Damn it, he was going to have to say it out loud. “Watchin’ you with that kid… I couldn’t help but imagine you with our kid. Bein’ all… motherly. I like how you looked.”

She hummed softly at this her eyes scanning over his black and red ones. "Well i think it's only natural. We been married for a while now." She spoke gently 

He nodded, unable to deny it. “We’ve been together for a while… and yet… a baby’s never been a thought in our minds, not really. I mean, are we really prepared to be parents?” He was being honest, despite how excited he was to see the sight of his wife with a baby in her arms.

"Well.. we could start preparing if you are wanting to take that step" she gently ran her hands over his shoulders. 

His heart skipped a beat. Here she was, not outright refusing the idea, but actually considering it and preparing to talk about it. “Are you wanting this?” He had to make sure, had to make sure she didn’t just agree because it made him happy.

"Baby I've been thinkin we would have adorable kids the moment we met" she giggled softly

He chuckled, pulling her flush against him. “Damn right they’d be adorable.” He leaned down, kissing right below her ear. “Can you imagine it? Little brats runnin’ around, wreakin’ havoc?”

She hummed softly. "Oh it'd be terrible" she teased as she felt one of his hands press against her stomach absent mindedly.

He let his hand roam, imagining the flat stomach swelling with pregnancy. “You know they’d take after you. Get your cute little nose and eyes.”

"Bet they'd get your hair." She hummed running her hand through his hair to emphasize her point. 

He chuckled, enjoying the feel of her fingers running through his hair. “They’d get your temper, too. I’d almost feel bad for ‘em.” He teased her.

She rolled her eyes and her gaze trailed over her lover. "Wanna get out of here?" She spoke in a hushed tone with a quirk of her lips into a smirk

He chuckled, already knowing what she had in mind. “Thought you’d never ask.” He pressed his hips against hers, already feeling himself getting aroused by just being this close to her.

That's how they ended up back in their shared home. Clothes decorating the floor from the front door to their bedroom. The bed creaking and headboard being muffled by the pillow stuffed behind it. She was clawing at his hair as he held his post between her legs lapping at her like a starved man.

He was damn near worshiping her, holding her tight and not letting her get away. “God, sweetheart, you taste so good,” he groaned, lapping at her like she was the source of his life essence.

She was whimpering and mewling as she fisted the sheets like they were a life line. She gripped onto his hair with her other hand gently tugging as he drug his tongue across her sensitive flesh. 

He was absolutely loving the sounds she was making. He knew exactly how sensitive she was, and he knew every single trick of his tongue to drive her crazy with pleasure. He was taking his time with her, enjoying every single second, savoring how good she felt and tasted.

She gasped out, her back arching like a cat as he pushed two fingers into her. He curled his fingers inside of her, knowing exactly how to draw out that pleasure and drive her absolutely wild. “You like that, sweetheart?” He teased her, his breathing a bit labored from his own aroused state.

She nodded desperately. "Yes rem love it feels so good" she whined out in that breathy needy tone he loved to hear her speak in. A tone reserved for his ears only. 

Damn, he loved how desperate she was. How needy she was. She was his, and his alone, and he’d make sure she knew that. “I’ll make ya feel so good, baby,” he murmured, latching his lips around the sensitive flesh and sucking.

Both hands went to the sheets clawing at the silk fabrics and the plush mattress underneath. 

He groaned against her, the sounds she was making and how desperate she was getting was driving him wild. He wanted to taste every inch of her, touch every single spot that would make her cry out with pleasure. He was completely intoxicated by her, like a drug he couldn’t get enough of.

The feeling of his vibrations against her made her mewl out loudly. "fuck!" Her words sent a jolt of satisfaction through him, making him smirk against her flesh. 

“That’s it… let me hear how good I make you feel, baby.” He curled his fingers again, knowing exactly how to draw out more desperate mewls from her.

She gasped out her hips pushing up against his arm holding them down. "Close" she squeaked out in a desperate mewl.

He could feel her getting closer, could feel her getting tighter and tighter around his fingers. He wanted to bring her over the edge, wanted to hear her come completely undone with ecstasy. “Come on, baby.” He pressed down on her hip harder, still relentlessly working her towards that sweet release. “Come for me,” he murmured against her, using every trick he knew to send her careening over the edge. “I wanna hear how good you feel.”

She cried out and her muscles contracted as she came undone. Her back bucked, her entire body trembling and twitching with the intensity of her orgasm. She was completely and utterly helpless under his touch. “R-remy….!”

He groaned against her as her body trembled and shook with pleasure. He wasn’t finished yet, though. He wanted to wring out every single bit of ecstasy from her that he could. “That’s it, sweetheart, let me make you feel good,” he murmured, his fingers working her through her orgasm and overstimulating her.

Her hands, shaking from the force of her orgasm, gripped his hair pulling him away letting out a breathy chuckle hearing him whine. "Baby I'd rather get on to the main course”

He groaned as he felt her grip his hair, preventing him from continuing his ministrations. When he heard her chuckling, he let out a whine, still wanting to taste her and bring her to climax once more. But hearing her wanting the main course stirred his excitement. “You sure you don’t want another?” He smirked, his usual overconfidence on display.

"This time I wanna finish around something bigger than your fingers" she wiped his face for him wiping off the left over arousal from her. He hummed, letting his tongue run over his lips to taste her again. 

“Such an impatient wife,” he teased her, wiping his chin on the back of his hand. “You want me that badly?” He asked, already knowing exactly what her answer would be.

"You know I do, baby." She inched her legs up over his hips. Now that wouldn't do. If he wanted to properly breed her those thighs needed to be up on his shoulders.

He chuckled, moving forward and pushing her thighs up until they were resting on his shoulders, allowing him to press even closer. “Naughty thing.” He teased her, pressing his hips against hers and letting her feel how hard he was for her. “You’re pretty much begging for it now.”

"Don't make me beg baby. I just want to make you daddy" she purred up at him. She knew damn well how weak that made him. He absolutely loved hearing her call him that, and she knew exactly how to use it to her advantage. His heart was pounding in his chest, his brain already filled with the image of her with a baby in her arms, calling him daddy. 

“Jesus Christ,” he groaned, his grip on her thighs tightening. He leaned back, resting on his knees and keeping her legs up on his shoulders.  “You really want a baby that much, huh?” He asked, taking in how she looked underneath him, just at his mercy. 

"I want your baby, remy" she gazed up at him. 

Hearing her say that shot a wave of intense possessiveness through him. “You want my baby?” He repeated back to her, almost like he was processing the words himself. “You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.” He ran his hands up to her hips, holding her in his tight grip. He pushed the tip of him into her, teasing her a bit but it was hell to not just immediately slam in. He teased them both by just barely pushing the tip inside, driving himself absolutely insane. “God, you feel so good, sweetheart,” he groaned, his eyes locked on her face as he teased her. “You want it all, don’t you?”

"Yes, baby. Please give it to me remy" she whined softly already too desperate to play their usual game of cat and mouse. 

He couldn’t resist listening to her desperate whines and pleading. “Anything you want, baby.” He leaned down, pressing as deep inside of her as he could. “You gotta tell me if this gets uncomfortable,” he told her, wanting to keep her completely comfortable and safe.

"Shut up and fill me up, Mon cher" she hissed back already too impatient to be waiting any longer.  He chuckled at her impatience, but he wasn’t going to torture either of them any longer.

 “Alright, I’ll shut up and give you exactly what you want, sweetheart.” He pulled back slowly, only to snap his hips forward and fill her completely.

 They quickly dissolved into a panting mess as the bed shook with every thrust. He was glad they had moved out of their old apartment cause they would definitely gotten a noise complaint. He was mumbling French curses between English praises, his cajun accent dripping off his tongue like it was honey. The sounds of the bed creaking, the sound of his voice cursing, and the sound of her moans filled his ears. He was absolutely drunk off of her, completely intoxicated by how she felt and how she sounded. The French slipped out before he could even realize it, his usual filter completely off. She was absolutely living for it. She loved when he would talk dirty to her in his accent and that doubled down when he spit out French like it was nothing. 

Every single time he cursed in French, her reaction would drive his excitement higher and higher. “Vous sentez si bien, mon amour,” he panted to her, pressing even deeper inside of her with every thrust. “You’re mine, sweetheart. All mine.”

"Yours" she mewled back as his tip kissed her womb with every thrust. She was clawing at the sheets like a cat in heat crying out like one too. 

He could already feel his thrusts getting a bit sloppy and desperate, his hands gripping her hips so tight he was going to leave bruises. “That’s it baby,” he growled out, losing himself more and more with every minute. “God, you don’t know how good you feel.”

She was mind dumb as what felt like her third maybe fourth orgasm rippled through her. Just like he liked her. Her climax made him shiver, feeling her walls tighten around him and send waves of ecstasy through him. “You look so beautiful when you cum for me, baby,” he groaned out, his hips still bucking against hers. “You’re gonna make me cum too if you’re not careful,” he tried to tease her, but his voice came out as a desperate, strained whisper. 

"Give it to me" she spoke through slurred words filled with pleasure and mewls. "Make me a mama" 

“God, you’re driving me crazy, sweetheart.” His words came out in a breathless hiss, trying his best to hold himself back from falling over that edge. “Beg for it.” He was cocky, he loved to hear her beg for him like that. He wanted to hear how desperate she was.

"Please remy need it! Wanna be swollen with you! Want your baby" she whined out between moans and biting her lip as her eyes rolled up into the back of her skull.

“Damn near gonna be on my knees with hearing you like that,” he groaned, giving into her words. “God, you want me to fill you up?” He knew the answer already, but he couldn’t resist asking. He wanted to hear her say it.

"Yes yes yes,” the mantra fell from her lips like a depraved woman. She practically was. The idea of her handsome husband filling her up till there was no other way she couldn't be pregnant was appealing.

He was far from being able to hold back any longer. Her words were pushing him faster and faster to the edge, driving him more and more wild. “You’re gonna have it, baby,” he panted out. “Gonna make you a mama.”

His hips snapped into hers with a force he didn't even know he was capable of. His grip on her thighs was tight enough he knew there'd be bruises later. He was desperate, completely lost in how she felt, how she sounded, how she looked underneath him with his hands holding her down. The thought of the possessive marks he was leaving on her skin only fueled his need for more. “Christ, sweetheart, I’m gonna-” he started to warn her.

She mewled out as she felt him jerk forward spurts filling her up completely even spilling out onto the sheets below them. 

He gave a guttural moan as his orgasm hit him like a freight train. “Oh God,” he panted as his hips gave little, shallow thrusts with each pulse of pleasure. “Fill you up so good,” he groaned. 

He collapsed against her, letting go of her thighs and wrapping his arms around her. He was panting against her chest, trying his best to catch his breath from how hard he had just come. “You’re going to drive me into early cardio arrest,” he chuckled weakly.

She was coming down from it herself panting as she patted his sweaty shoulder. "Love you too babe”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss between her breasts. “Love you more,” he mumbled against her skin, his brain still a little sluggish as he recovered his brain power.

When he rolled off of her finally and she cuddled up into his side not even bothering to change the sheets yet both of their legs feeling like jelly. He pulled her close against his chest, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin against her forehead. He was completely and utterly satiated at the moment, already feeling the fatigue of exertion setting in and his eyelids growing heavy.

"Think it will take?" She hummed tiredly back at him.

“It better,” he chuckled, already knowing damn well that it would work. He ran his fingers through her hair, still damp with sweat. “If you’re not pregnant after this, you’ll break my heart.”

"We will just keep trying won't we then?" She teased back.

“Damn right we will,” he said, already planning out how soon he could go again without collapsing. “Keep trying until you’re round and swollen with my baby, sweetheart.”

[harrywavycurly]

Worth the Fight: It’s Just Cake

Masterlist: Here

CW: Language, small-ish argument, pregnancy symptoms, one moment of slight jealousy and one tiny injury that sends Harry spiraling.

A/N: I spent a sold 36 hours debating on the outcome of this update and this just seemed to make the most sense so enjoy and sorry for any tears, hopefully they are happy ones?👀✨

Tag List: @kookjipao @msolbesg @lomlolivia @namoreno @outofthisworl-d @mema10 @watarmelon212 @natykn @sassamanda77 @st-ev-ie @ghayda0 @hannah9921 @indierockgirrl @chaoticthoughts2022 @lizsogolden @gmikaelson @styleswithaseaview @sofaritsalrightt @babegoals @fangirl509east @one-sweet-gubler @stylesftcher @umadirectioner @last-saturday-night @montgomery-929496 @laughterismytherapy @hisparentsgallerryy @jerseygirlinca @behindmygreyeyes @mads3502 @tpwkdpr @unfuckwitablenarry @itscoucouharry @latedirectionerera @ell0ra-br3kk3r @cumuluscranium @donutsandpalmtrees

Summary: You see Harry three days in a row and you get a cake delivered ✨

“This one’s soft.” Harry just nods as he places a hand in on his hip while you give the pillow in front of you a good squeeze. “And very squishy.” You add and Harry doesn’t bother even responding because you’ve said the exact same thing about all the pregnancy pillows you’ve touched during the fifteen minutes the two of you have been in the store. So instead he just leans his back against the shelf and runs his hand through his hair while you move on to the next pillow that he’s sure will also be soft and squishy.

You look at the pillow in front of you and let out a sigh because you don’t really want one and you don’t think you need one right now but Harry swears your lack of support on your back and bump is why you’ve been having issues sleeping. Resulting in the two of you standing on the aisle that has all the pillows that help with sleep and breastfeeding in the boutique down the street from your work on your day off, the same one he saw you and Ethan in a few weeks ago. But instead of offering you his opinion on which pillow to get he’s been oddly quiet, keeping a safe distance from you and you wonder if he’s the one having issues sleeping due to his late nights with the girl Ethan told you he was seen with just last week.

“I read that one’s good.” You turn your head at the sound of his voice, it’s quiet and lower than normal as he points to the pillow currently in your hand. “Gives you back and belly support and it’s not massive like the others are and you already said it’s soft-”

“And squishy.”

“Yeah. So I say give that one a try and see how you like it? And if you hate it we return it and get another one.” He offers before he pulls his phone out of his pocket to check the time.

You just look back at the cream colored pillow in your hand and give it one more squeeze before deciding it’ll do and you’ll give it a try. When go to pull the pillow off the shelf you don’t even give it one tug before Harry’s ring clad hands are grabbing it for you and pulling it off the shelf in one quick movement. You can’t help but notice how effortlessly he tosses it into the cart you have next to you and you have to remind yourself it’s just a pillow not a heavy sack of potatoes when a small blush begins creeping onto your cheeks. You want to smack a hand over your face when you catch yourself staring at his arms that are being shown off by his tank top, something you’re extremely used to seeing him in since he normally stops by your apartment in the mornings after a run of before he’s due at the gym. But for some reason you feel like his black tank top and questionably short maroon running shorts are a bit more distracting today than usual.

“Did you hear me?” You jump slightly as Harry’s voice snaps you out of your daze making your eyes instantly connect with his instead of where they were just fixated on the muscles in his arm flexing as he grips the handle of the cart so he can push it for you.

“Sorry what-what did you say?” Harry looks at you with concern etched on his face as he gives you a quick once over. Your cheeks are red and your eyes have this glazed over appearance to them and you have a hand clutching at the pendant at the end of the chain you wear everyday while the other one is resting on your bump.

“Are you feeling okay?” He questions with a furrow in his brows as he notices the way you swallow thickly while briefly letting your eyes dart to his hand that’s wrapped around the handle of the cart.

“Uhm yes I’m totally fine why do you ask?” You ask as you do your best to appear as normal as possible, running a hand through your hair after you clear your throat and blink a few times before meeting his eyes once more so you can offer him a small smile. Acting as if he didn’t just catch you staring at his hand that has his signature initial rings snuggly tucked up against the knuckles of his pinky and ring finger.

“You just look a bit out of sorts that’s all.” He says making you let out a very forced laugh as you give him a shrug.

“I could say the same thing about you.” Harry raises a brow as you motion to his outfit causing him to look down to check himself out but when he doesn’t see anything out of place he looks back over at you just to find you’ve turned away from him and have begun walking down the aisle a few steps ahead of him.

“You’re sort of worrying-”

“I’m fine Harry really just got a bit of a hot flash that’s all.”

“A hot flash?” He doesn’t remember you telling him about hot flashes before so he feels a little confused as he pushes the cart a safe distance behind you so he doesn’t accidentally hit your ankles when you suddenly stop to look at something.

“Yeah a hot flash. I’ve had a few randomly but-oh look at these.” You try your best to distract him from your flustered state with a pair of tiny newborn sized socks. You grab them off the shelf and hold them in your hand as you turn to face him. “Look how small they are.” You mumble as you look down at them and run your thumb over the soft material.

“Do they need socks right out of the womb?” Harry asks as out of pure curiosity since he’s only seen babies in socks when they out of the house or in posed photos on people’s social media accounts.

“I think so because it’s nice and warm in here.” You tell him as you place a hand on your bump while the other holds the tiny socks out to him so he can get a better look at them. “So you want to try to make them all warm and cozy once they are out.” Harry just nods as he looks at the tiny pair of socks that fit in the palm of his hand and when you take a glance at him you can’t help but smile as he takes a moment to try to imagine one of the twins being big enough to wear the socks while also being tiny enough to fit both their feet in his hand.

“How can something be so small but also big at the same time?” It’s a thought he doesn’t mean to voice out loud but then again he doesn’t mind letting you hear his inner thoughts because you just take a step towards him so you can look at his hand that looks even larger than it normally does as it easily fits both socks in it.

“Considering right now they are only the size of bananas everything kinda seems big.” You begin to explain while Harry just stares at the socks. “But then when they actually get to wear the socks their feet will look so tiny in them.”

“Bananas? So you’re about-”

“Twenty weeks.”

“Which means we can-”

“Yup.” You finish for him since you already know what he’s going to ask. Harry stares at you as your hands fall to your bump while you rub your lips together as the two of you silently take a moment to sit with the knowledge that at your appointment with Dr. Andrews tomorrow you’ll be able to find out the genders of the babies you’re carrying.

“So did you-”

“Are you seeing someone?” Harry feels his body go stiff at your question that you all but shout at him as you begin to rub your bump, something you tend to do when trying to calm yourself down. You watch as the pair of socks fall out of Harry’s hand as he blinks at you a few times while opening and shutting his mouth as if he doesn’t know what to say and his mind and body are at odds with one another making him look like he’s struggling to make sense of what’s happening around him.

“I uhm don’t-what what exactly do you-uh I’m not no-no no I’m uhm not see-seeing anyone.” The way he fumbles through his answer makes you raise an eyebrow at him while he quickly bends down to pick up the dropped pair of socks so he can just toss them into the cart and worry about if you actually wanted to buy them later at the checkout since he’ll already have to argue with you about letting him pay for everything anyway.

“So the girl you were seen with in the green dress isn’t anyone?” You have no clue why you’re asking him these questions in the middle of a baby boutique but you’ve spent the past few nights wondering about it so you figure you might as well get it over with and see what he has to say for himself.

You continue to rub soothing circles over your bump as Harry stands there trying to figure out who exactly you’re referring to because his mind has all of a sudden become void of anyone he’s hung out with recently that wasn’t you or his mother. But when for the life of him he can’t recall anyone wearing a green dress he just lifts a shoulder up in a casual shrug and shakes his head.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about?” You let out a sigh as you roll your eyes, not at all shocked his memory is messing with him because that seems to happen anytime he meets a girl and has a decent time with them on a night out.

“Figures you can’t remember the girl you walked out of a club with the night you told me you had plans with your mom and that’s why you couldn’t come help me hang the curtains in the nursery.” Harry grips the handle of the cart with both hands as if it’s the only thing capable of keeping him steady as he’s hit the with memory of the night you’re referring to. “Must’ve been quite a night then.” It’s the casual tone of your voice that has Harry worried because it doesn’t at all match the look you’re giving him.

You’re eyes are slightly narrowed in a glare but there’s something hidden behind the glare that he can’t quite put a finger on, but he has a feeling it’s something along the lines of hurt or jealousy but he doesn’t see why’d you be jealous so he leans more towards you being hurt over the fact you think he lied to you.

“I did have plans with my mom we had dinner together.” He explains as you look away from him and towards the pregnancy pillow sitting in the cart. “And that girl she’s just a friend who needed a ride home-”

“And she couldn’t call an uber? She had to call you?” You know you sound like an untrusting girlfriend but you just blame your hormones making you feel as if he’s still keeping something from you.

“I was just trying to be a good friend. She doesn’t know a lot of people here she’s from New York and-”

“It honestly doesn’t matter I just don’t like feeling like I’ve been lied to that’s all.” You state deciding you don’t really want to hear anything else about the girl in the green dress. Harry gives you a small nod when you finally look back up at him, he doesn’t know why the idea of you thinking he lied to you makes his heart drop a bit.

“I understand and I’m sorry.” He doesn’t really know what he’s apologizing for but it just seems like something he needs to do in the moment, and honestly it’s something he’s becoming an expert at doing considering how many times he’s said those exact words since meeting you. “I hope you know I’d never lie to you. I may be an asshole but I’m not a liar.” You playfully roll your eyes as you look at him with a quirked brow.

“You don’t lie? Harry you told me I looked good in black and red polka dots last week.”

“And you did? You looked like a lady bug with your black leggings and polka dotted cardigan.”

“I looked like a bug? Bugs aren’t cute.”

“Lady bugs are cute.” You try to ignore the way your heart flutters at his roundabout way of calling you cute so you just let out a chuckle before turning around and heading down the aisle. “Besides there’s a clear difference between lying and just telling you something so you don’t get your feelings hurt.”

“So you’re saying I didn’t look good you just didn’t want to make me upset?” Harry wishes Niall was here to give him a smack upside the head as you pause and look at him over your shoulder. He rushes to shake his head no and push the cart further down the aisle towards where you’re standing near the end of it.

“No of course you looked cute-I mean good you looked good.” You place a hand over your mouth to stop your laugh from being heard throughout the store while Harry just glares at you as he realizes the trap he just walked into. “You’re in a mood today Cranky. Let’s hurry up and get this pillow so you can go take a nap.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help myself but a nap isn’t going to fix it but you know what might?” Harry doesn’t even have to think before he’s answering your question.

“A green juice with no carrots and extra apples?” The smile you give him makes his insides feel all warm and he has to stop himself from laughing at how you’re already licking your lips at the thought of your current favorite juice recipe.

“Exactly.”

“Can I ask who uh told you about me being out the other night?” He asks as you turn to go down another aisle, he has a strong feeling he knows who gave you the information but he just wants to hear it from your lips.

“Ethan.” Your voice sounds like you’re distracted and when Harry looks up he sees why, you’re standing there wrapped up in a fuzzy robe that’s about two sizes too big for you with a grin on your face as you let out a sigh of content. “I’d be able to snuggle both of them at the same time in this.” Harry watches in amusement as you grab two stuffed animals off the shelf in front of you next to the hanging robes and act out what it would be like holding two babies at the same time cuddled in the robe.

“You look ridiculous.”

“Oh you’re just mad I don’t want to snuggle you in this thing.” You snap making Harry have to look away when your eyes meet his, his cheeks and the back of his neck getting hot as he struggles to keep a stupid smile off his face.

“Didn’t you just have a hot flash? Should you even be wearing that right now?” He asks with a hint of worry in his voice making you roll your eyes as you put the stuffed animals in the cart so you can shrug off the fuzzy robe.

“Next time someone tells me how fun you are I’m going to tell them to have a baby or two with you and they’ll really see just how fun you can be.”

“Forgive me for caring about your wellbeing.”

“I don’t think I can because I really liked that robe.” Your eyes are a little big and your bottom lip is poked out a bit as your head tilts to the side giving the robe one last look as you hang it back up. Harry just lets out an annoyed sigh as you make your way down the aisle, an obvious stomp in your steps making him roll his eyes at your dramatics.

“Yeah you need a nap.” Is all he says as he grabs the hanger with the robe on it and tosses it in the cart on his way down the aisle where you’ve stopped to look at a set of onesies.

You can feel the anticipation building in the room as you and Harry stare at the white envelope sitting on your kitchen table. Having picked you up for your appointment before work he also took it upon himself to walk you back to your apartment where you informed him Dr. Andrews had given you the results of the gender scan you had done during the appointment since at the time neither of you felt ready to know quite yet or more so you just didn’t feel like crying in front of your doctor, again. But suddenly the idea of knowing if you’re carrying two boys or two girls or maybe one of each feels like something you desperately need and want to know so you asked Harry to stay a bit before running off to do whatever it is he does during the day.

“Will you open it?” You ask as you still stare at the envelope with the name Styles written on it while rubbing your hands over the soft material of the t shirt that’s currently covering your bump.

“Me?”

“No Harry the ghost standing behind you.”

“But this is a big deal I’m-I’m not properly dressed for-”

“Properly dressed? Harry you’re not opening the envelope that tells someone they just won a Grammy.”

“Well yeah this is way more important.” He states as he runs a hand through his hair before he turns his attention to you and he almost jumps back a bit when he sees how intensely you’re already staring at him. You don’t give him time to ask if you’re okay before you’re turning and heading into your kitchen for your water bottle you accidentally left on the counter due to rushing down to meet Harry in the parking lot so he wouldn’t be able to tell you that you were going to make the two of you late for your appointment when he helped you get into his passenger seat.

“You’ve done gender reveals before so just act like this is one of the times a fan asked you to read it on stage or something.” Harry rolls his eyes as his hands land on his hips while turning to look at you as you take a sip of water.

“This is different than opening a fan’s envelope this one is for my- sorry our babies so it’s a bit more intense.” You let out a sigh as you place your water bottle back on the counter and if Harry wasn’t on the verge of an anxiety attack he’d probably take a moment to appreciate how adorable you look when you’re throwing a tiny fit about not getting your way.

It’s something he’s witnessed a few times during his morning juice visits, the long exasperated sighs that come with a hand on the hip and a glare to whatever view of his head you have at the time. But what really gets him is when you sometimes rub your bump and lean down so you can whisper to it things about how he’s being a big meanie or something equally as silly and untrue. He imagines this is something you’ve always done, throw tiny fits when things aren’t going your way or you feel out of control and he can only assume your pregnancy hormones are just exasperating those emotions making you have at least one tiny tantrum a day.

“Would you open it if you weren’t in jeans and a t shirt?” Harry’s glare answers your question. “I mean you’re the one who said you aren’t properly dressed so I’m just asking if you’d open it dressed in a Gucci suit or is it just you don’t want to open it?”

“I mean of course I want to open it but I’m-I’m nervous. And I don’t even know why? It’s just a bloody envelope.” He mumbles and you get it, you understand how he’s feeling because it’s exactly why you can’t bring yourself to open it.

“Maybe someone else should open it for us?” You suggest making Harry rub his lips together as his eyes dart back to the envelope that’s now just mocking him as it sits there unbothered and unopened on your table. “Oh what about your mom? She could open it for us!” Harry looks over at you as you take a few steps so you’re back to standing next to him, your eyes glued on the envelope.

“You’d be okay with her knowing before us?” He feels the corners of his mouth pull up into a smile when you just shrug and nod your head.

“Of course and she’ll probably figure out a way to tell us that’s super cute and not just some words stuffed inside an envelope.” He can’t argue with you about that since he knows that exactly what his mother will do. He watches you reach over and grab the envelope and hold it out for him. “So just give it to her and let her do the rest. Only if she wants to though don’t make her feel forced to do this Harry or I’ll be very upset.” Your voice lets him know you’re not kidding about not forcing his mom into anything and he just has to laugh at you trying to be threatening while twenty weeks pregnant.

“Trust me she’ll be thrilled to be the one to tell us.” He informs you making you feel a little better about the whole thing once he gently takes the envelope from you so he can carefully place it in his back pocket. “Do you need anything before I go?” You just shake your head with a smile before he begins to turn and head towards your front door.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” Harry pauses as he reaches your front door and slowly turns around and raises a brow while looking down at the floor as he tries to think of his plans for tomorrow.

“I can come over if you need me-”

“You still haven’t hung up the curtains in the their nursery.”

“Oh shit that’s right.” He feels his face get hot as he realizes how long it’s been since he told you he’d do that for you. “Then yeah I’ll uhm see you tomorrow.” You give him a smile as he turns back towards the door so he can reach for the doorknob.

“Have a good day.” You half shout over your shoulder as you turn to head down the hallway to your room so you can start getting ready for work. Harry quickly lets go of the doorknob and lets out a sigh as he looks over his shoulder, of course you forgot he can’t lock the door when he leaves because he doesn’t have a key.

“You have to come-” He stops talking when he hears you muttering what sounds like some sort of curse word from the hallway making him chuckle and shake his head as he waits for you to reappear.

“Lock the door.” You finish for him with a groan as you walk back into the living room towards the front door where Harry is standing with a playful smirk on his face. “Sorry one day I’ll remember.” You reassure him but it doesn’t do much as he just rolls his eyes before opening your door and stepping out into the hallway.

“Have a good day at work and let me know how the pillow works tonight because if you still hate it we can return it tomorrow.” You just nod as Harry stands in your hallway just outside your door, the place you thought he’d be staying the whole duration of your pregnancy but to your surprise, his knowledge of how to make green juice and actively trying to do better has earned him access to the inside of your apartment.

“Have a good day Harry.” You say with a smile that he returns before he watches you close your door, waiting a few moments to make sure he hears the locking sound before he turns to head towards the elevator.

“Nice to see you’ve been promoted from hallway dad to inside the apartment dad.” Harry instantly feels a strong bubbling of annoyance in the pit of his chest as Ethan steps out of his front door just as Harry walks by.

“What’s your problem?” Harry asks as he stops heading towards the end of the hall and turns around so he can face your neighbor who also happens to be one of your bestfriends.

“What’s my problem? I think the real question is what’s your problem Harry?”

“I don’t have one but you seem to have this weird thing with me that makes you unable to stop yourself from being an asshole.”

“I mean you’d know all about being an asshole wouldn’t you?” Harry wants to wipe the smug looking smirk off his face but he knows that wouldn’t be the smartest thing to do because you’d hear it and come out and be upset and he also is very aware of who he is and can only image the issues he’d face if the press found out he hit someone in a random apartment complex’s hallway. So instead Harry goes for the jugular in a different way, one he knows will pack more of a punch than if he used his fists.

“You know Ethan for someone who claims to be such a good friend to her,” Harry motions towards your front door making Ethan quirk a brow at him as he crosses his arms over his chest. “You sure did cause some damage with the information you chose to share with her about me being seen with someone last week.” Ethan’s jaw clenches as he takes a step forward, his eyes set in a harsh glare aimed directly at Harry.

“You wanna know why I told her about you and the tacky green dress girl?” Harry ignores the comment about his friend’s dress and just shrugs as Ethan takes another step towards him, his hands now at his sides and his eyes still set in a glare. “Because she shouldn’t have to find out that sort of thing from a magazine cover or someone texting her the photos. I wanted her to find out from someone who cares about her who would be there to help her deal with the emotions that the knowledge of you going out and living your pretty boy pop star life while she feels unable to go out and do things because she’s pregnant would stir up.” Ethan’s voice is harsh as he stands right in front of Harry, staring right into his eyes.

“And guess what the only question is that she asked me after she told me some bullshit about how you’re allowed to be seen with whoever you want because you’re single.” Harry swallows as Ethan rolls his eyes when he talks about the excuse you gave him prior to asking him about the girl Harry was seen with.

“What did she ask you?” He has a feeling whatever Ethan is about to tell him is going to make him upset he just isn’t sure which type, anger or sadness.

“Was she pretty.” The harshness of Ethan’s voice is gone and Harry swears he almost sounds as if he’s holding back his emotions as he lets out a dark chuckle and shakes his head. “She wanted to know if the fucking girl you were seen with was pretty. What does that tell you Harry? Huh? What does that mean to you?”

“I don’t-I don’t know what it means.” There’s a thousand thoughts swirling around Harry’s head as Ethan looks at the floor and takes a few deep breaths to calm himself down before looking at Harry again.

“Let me fill you in on something pretty boy.” Ethan reaches over and places a hand on top of Harry’s shoulder only making him slightly nervous. “Just because you can’t remember the night you met doesn’t mean she can’t. She remembers meeting someone she thought liked her enough to give her his number and a promise of a call the next day. She remembers that same person telling her how much he liked her and couldn’t wait to see her again. And she also remembers the feeling of being ghosted by that same fucking guy but as fate would have it she has to end up being the one to text him to tell him she’s pregnant and here’s the real kick in the ass Harry you’re going to love this part.” Harry knows for a fact he isn’t going to like the next part because he knows what’s coming, he knows exactly what Ethan is going to say and he feels his heart drop to his feet.

“She remembers the feeling of him telling her he doesn’t remember meeting her. The guy she thought was so amazing and everything she’s looking for in someone she’d like to be with doesn’t fucking remember meeting her. So now she’s stuck feeling all these weird emotions because she really liked you Harry like really liked you and now you’re her baby daddy who sometimes is an asshole and is sometimes a nice guy that just doesn’t remember anything about her.” Ethan ends his rant with a not so soft pat to Harry’s shoulder before he takes a step to the side so he can go around Harry and head to the elevator.

“So next time you think I’m the asshole who doesn’t care about her remember I’m the one who’s been here for her since she came home drunk and on cloud nine the night you two met.” He adds from a few steps behind Harry, who can’t seem to get his feet to work as he stays standing in the exact same spot. Ethan takes his silence as a sign that maybe Harry is doing some deep thinking into how he hasn’t really thought about how you must feel dealing with him during all of this, and that’s just what Ethan wants, he wants Harry to realize how deeply effected you are by not only his words but his actions as well.

“Fuck.” Harry says with a groan as he runs both hands through his hair giving it a slight tug as he closes his eyes and does his best to get ahold of himself. When he opens his eyes he runs a hand over his face and turns to head towards the stairwell, deciding he doesn’t want to risk having to share an extremely awkward elevator ride with Ethan down to the lobby.

The only thing keeping Harry together is the envelope securely tucked into his back pocket and the fact he’s on his way to see his mom who although she can be meddlesome always has an open ear to listen to his problems and offer whatever advice she can. And in this case he knows what she’s going to say because it’s what she’s been saying to him since she found out he’s been going to your house every other day, he likes you and needs to just acknowledge it and either act upon it or move on. But for some reason he just never thinks he’s ready for either option so Harry just keeps doing what he’s doing, helping you with whatever you’ll allow him to and visiting you in the mornings so he can make your juice and get caught up on how you’re feeling. As he walks towards his car once he makes it down to the lobby and into the parking lot something inside of him switches letting him know he can’t keep going on like this, he needs to sit and think about his feelings towards you because clearly he’s hurting you and that’s the last thing he wants to do since he’s promised himself he’s done being an asshole.

“That’s not level.”

“What? Yes it is I have a level in my hand and it’s saying it’s perfect.”

“Then the level is lying to you because that rod is very much not level.”

“It’s lying to me? Really?” You cross your arms over your chest as you stand next to one of the cribs while Harry takes a few steps back so he can look at the curtain rod he just finished hanging above the window. He furrows his brows as he bites down on his bottom lip while his hands rest on his hips as he realizes the rod is hanging down a bit lower on the left side. “It’s not level.” He states followed by an annoyed sigh as he steps up on the step stool so he can undo the left side.

“Tell me when it’s level then will you?” He asks over his shoulder making you just nod as you take a small step backwards. He raises the rod up a tiny bit and when you don’t say anything he raises it up just a bit more causing you to squint your eyes as you try your hardest to tell if it’s level or not.

“I think that’s good.”

“You think?”

“It’s perfect. Totally level.” You correct yourself making him let out a huff before he secures the rod to the wall. Harry is stepping down off the step stool when he hears it, the faint sound of you saying “ouch” followed by a painful type of hissing noise.

Before you can even register what’s happening you feel Harry’s hands on you, turning you around from where you’re leaning over one of the cribs to grab the curtains for him to place on the rod he just put up. His hands are soft but his hold on your arms is firm but not too firm that you feel like he’s squeezing you as his wide panic stricken eyes quickly roam all over your face before he steps back only enough so he can look for any obvious source of pain or an injury of any kind. Once you realize what’s happening you decide to end his search and hold out your hand that has a few very small cuts on the knuckles of your index and middle finger where they somehow got caught between the crib and the zipper of your zip up hoodie when bending over resulting in the zipper scratching up your knuckles the tiniest bit.

“Does this happen a lot?” You can tell by his voice that Harry is panicking as he takes your hand in both of his so he can examine the damage done to your knuckles.

“Does what happen a lot?”

“Getting hurt on things like cribs and zippers?” He asks with furrowed brows as he ever so gently runs a thumb over your knuckles, just above the scrapes so he can see if they need anything other than just a bandaid.

“I mean I’m a little clumsy sometimes but no-”

“Clumsy? As in you fall a lot and run into things?”

“First off that’s not the definition of clumsy it actually means awkward in movement or in handling things or to do something without skill or elegance and difficult to handle.” Harry has to fight the urge to roll his eyes but instead he just focuses on how small your hand looks in his while he looks at the cuts on your knuckles that are already starting to form little bruises around them. “So when I tell you I’m clumsy it doesn’t mean I fall a lot it means I drop things every now and then.” You explain with a huff as you look down at your hand that Harry is examining as if it’s a priceless jewel that’s not to be handled with anything other than feather light touches and the occasional gentle rub of his thumb.

“So you don’t fall a lot then?” He asks while dropping one of his hands from yours so he can turn around and lead you out of the nursery. You don’t bother trying to fight him so you let out a sigh as you just let him lead you by the hand out of the room and down the hallway.

“Not really no.” You answer once the two of you are in the kitchen. Harry just nods as he pulls out a chair for you to sit in at the kitchen table, to his surprise you sit down without a word or a huff and he silently thanks you for letting him fuss over you with a small smile before he turns to head towards your small medicine cabinet you have next to your fridge.

“But what if you do fall one day and no one is here?”

“Uhm then I just get up and go on with my day? What kind of fall are-”

“I don’t like you being here alone when something could happen at anytime and I’m fifteen-twenty minutes away.” You feel your eyes go wide as Harry finally finds the box of Disney themed bandaids, pulling out one with Belle on it and finding it very fitting since you have a deep love of books as well.

“Harry I’ve lived alone for a very long time and been just fine.”

“Okay well that was before-”

“Before what?”

“You got pregnant with my twins.” His words make you sit back in the chair and blink a few times as he runs the hand that’s not holding your princess bandaid over his face. “I think I’m allowed to worry about you being alone a lot when you’re walking around with-with my whole world inside of your belly. Because what if next time something happens it’s not just a little cut on your hand? What if it’s serious and I can’t get here in time to help you?” Out of instinct you place your hands on top of your bump as he tells you exactly why this little scrape on your knuckles has caused such an intense reaction.

“I worry about you and just want to know you’re safe that’s all.” You feel a lump start to form in your throat as he lets out a shaky breath before he turns to look at you.

“I understand.” Your voice is strained as you try to swallow down the emotions that want so desperately to start bubbling over. “I just don’t know how to help you not be so worried.” You tell him truthfully, because at the moment you have no clue how to help ease his anxiety about you being alone if something happens.

“I take it you don’t fancy the idea of just moving-” A sudden knock makes both of your heads turn towards the front door. Harry takes the interruption to really think about what he was about to say to you, asking how you felt about moving in with him, even if he didn’t quite mean it as seriously as you might’ve taken it he was still only a few seconds away from letting the words fall from his mouth and that takes him by more of a surprise than the knock that stopped it from happening.

“Are you expecting someone?” Your voice takes him out of his brief moment of deep thought as you look away from the door and towards him with a raised brow.

“Me? This isn’t my house why would I be expecting someone?” You just shrug as you make a move to get up but are quickly stopped by Harry standing in front of you holding out the bandaid he picked, making a small smile appear on your face when you see it’s Belle from Beauty and the Beast.

“I’m not expecting anyone.” You state as you raise your hand for him so he can place the bandage on your scraped knuckles before turning and heading for your front door so he can answer it for you. He imagines whoever it is that’s expecting you will be quite shocked to find him on the other side of the door but that’s an issue he will deal with once he has to.

“Check the peephole before you open it Harry it could be a weirdo.” You call out to him as he gets closer to the front door causing him to roll his eyes before he leans in and looks out the tiny peephole on your door.

“There’s no one out there so maybe it was just a delivery?” You raise an eyebrow as you lean over a bit so you have a direct line of sight to your front door allowing you to watch Harry open it to reveal a white box with a pink and blue bow tied around it. “It’s a cake.” He says as he bends down to carefully pick up the box so he can bring it inside.

“A cake? I didn’t order a cake.” You begin to go through your memory of the last few days as Harry kicks your front door closed with his foot before walking back towards you in the kitchen with the box in his hands. “Did I order a cake in my sleep? No. No way I- I haven’t done that in months.” You mumble to yourself making Harry send you a questioning glance as he places the cake down on the table in front of you.

“You’ve ordered a cake in your sleep before?”

“Oh has Mr. Popular never ordered something while half asleep? I highly doubt that.” You tease as Harry reaches for the card that’s taped to the top of the box before sitting down in the chair next to you.

“It’s from my mom.” He says in a very confused voice but as he goes to read the rest of the card he sees your fingers grab the top of it yanking it out of his hands.

“God have some manners this is my cake so it’s my card so let me read it.”

“Uh it said to the lovely parents to be making it our cake and our card.”

“Why would she send a cake for both of us to my apartment?”

“Because she knows I was planning on hanging the curtains for you today.” He answers as he begins to undo the bow, careful not to ruin it because he has a feeling you’re going to want to keep it for sentimental reasons. While you read over the card he opens the box and as soon as he sees what’s written on the cake he feels his stomach do a weird flip.

“All it says is-Harry? What’s-”

“This isn’t just a cake.”

“What do you mean it’s not-oh my god.” Your words turn into a whisper as Harry turns the box towards you so you can read what the top of the cake says. His eyes watch your reaction closely as you bring the hand that’s not clutching the card up to cover your mouth.

“It says we’re having twins with three little dots at the end so that-” Harry swallows before he looks at the cake that you’re still staring at with wide eyes as your hand goes from covering your mouth up to your forehead as you begin to breathe a little heavier. “That means it’s going to tell us what we are having.” He finishes with a heavy sigh.

“Okay this is fine we will just act like it’s a normal cake and honestly this is great because at the end of the day we get to have cake and who doesn’t like cake?” Harry just goes along with your anxious rambling as you begin to fan yourself with the card while he stands up from his seat so he can carefully take the cake out of the box and place it down on the table.

“I’m gonna go grab uhm plates and a-a knife.” You don’t even bother nodding as you stare at the cake in front of you that somehow holds the answer to an extremely important question while Harry stumbles his way into your kitchen on the hunt for two plates and a knife. “Okay so how do you want to do this?” He asks once he’s back sitting next to you.

“Uh maybe I’ll cut it with my eyes closed and-”

“You want me to let you hold a knife with your eyes closed? After you already had to get a bandaid not even ten minutes ago?”

“Okay then just cut it a piece and put it on a plate.” You answer as you stop fanning yourself and place the card on the table next to the cake so you can reach over and hand Harry the knife.

He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this kind of anxiety before, and he knows it’s just the anticipation of finally finding out what you’re carrying but he can’t help how shaky his hand is as he holds the knife over the cake. He shoots you a look and when you just nod at him as you chew on your bottom lip he takes a deep breath and cuts into the cake. You feel like time moves in slow motion as Harry cuts a piece and puts it on the plate in front of you, both of you stare at it for a solid minute before you can process what exactly you’re looking at.

“That’s pink.” He whispers as you let out a sniffle while you nod your head.

“And blue.” You feel your eyes begin to burn as you look at the piece of white cake that’s been dyed blue for two layers and pink for the other two with a thin layer of vanilla icing in between each layer.

“A boy and-and a girl? We’re having a boy and a girl.” Harry’s voice is watery as he finally looks away from the cake and over to you and when your eyes meet it’s as if the flood gates open and the tears begin to roll down your face.

Before you can even make sense of what you’re doing you fling your arms around Harry and pull him into an awkwardly angled hug, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he wraps his arms around you in return. He tries to hold his emotions together but as soon as he feels you give him a squeeze he can’t help but let a few tears slip past his waterline. When you pull away a few moments later you grab Harry’s hands and place them on your bump, letting your hands loosely grip his wrists.

“Edward and Nora.” The grin that spreads across Harry’s face as you say the names the two of you agreed on last week makes your heart want to explode as you place your hands over his.

“Hello Edward James and Nora Anne Styles I’m-I’m your dad and I can’t wait to meet you.” He says with a smile as he leans down so he’s closer to your bump making a whole new wave of tears want to flow down your cheeks but you do your best to blink them away.

“I hope they have your eyes.”

“Yeah? Even though they’re big and dumb?”

“More importantly they’re green.” Harry laughs at your response as he rubs his thumbs over the soft material of your shirt that’s covering your bump. “Oh god where’s Paris? I need to tell him he’s going to have a brother and a sister.” You begin to look around the kitchen for any signs of the orange cat trying not to feel overwhelmed by how good and normal it feels having Harry rub and talk to your bump.

“I’ll go find him.” Harry says with a smile as he gives your bump one last gentle rub before you lift your hands off of his allowing him to get up from his seat. You give him a smile when he looks at you one more time before heading down the hallway to check your bedroom, but the moment he’s out of sight you let out a deep breath and try to get a firm grip on your emotions not wanting to let this moment cause you to slip into a dangerous line of thinking. The type that ends with you starting to envision Harry around all the time, doting on you like he did earlier with the bandaid and just being as normal as a couple the two of you could be. But you know for that to ever happen he’d have to actually have some sort of feelings for you and as far as you know he just sees you as someone who’s having his babies that he now can tolerate being around.

“Holy shit.” Harry mumbles as he runs a hand through his hair and takes a seat at the end of your bed. He takes a minute to think about everything that’s just happened in the last five minutes. A smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he finally starts to come to some sort of conclusion about how he feels about you. His moment of peace is short lived as he hears a bell jingle and soon feels the softness of fur rubbing at his ankles. “Can you keep a secret?” He asks the orange cat as he looks up at him from where he’s sitting next to Harry’s right ankle, his favorite one to snack on Harry has learned. When Paris just tilts his head Harry does something risky and bends down and gently picks him up but to his surprise Paris just nuzzles his head into the crook of Harry’s neck and starts purring.

“I think I have a crush on your mom.” He whispers to Paris who doesn’t do anything besides purr a little louder as Harry smiles and stands up so he can bring him to you. “Don’t tell her okay?” He adds in a hushed voice and when Paris just moves his head a bit to get comfortable Harry feels like he has finally done it, he has earned the trust of your very picky and very protective cat and takes that as a good sign that he’s made the right decision in acknowledging his feelings about you, now all he has to do is figure out how to tell you.

[backwzzds]

ೃ⁀➷ domesticity, könig

könig got off to watching you be a mother.

könig hated to admit it. the way he inevitably got turned on whenever he came home from long missions. the way whenever he’d walk through the front door of your home, muddy and dirty boots immediately being taken off by the welcome mat so he didn’t stain the innocence of your home with his trauma and duties from work—the bludge in his pants grew at the sight of how you lived such a domestic life.

he was sure his view was a sight that nearly every man wished for at some point in their life. he felt blessed. blessed that no one else at his base had the privilege to come home to this. with you holding a chubby baby full of fiery strawberry blonde curls—undoubtedly belonging to him—on your wide hips, so full from giving birth no more than two years ago.

your daughter was a bit on the paler side despite having beautiful brown skin, and you always wondered if your genes even fucking tried to show out for you when creating her. she looked and acted so much like her father, the only way to probe that she was yours were your shared lips and her having your hair texture. everything else belonged to könig.

“papa wird bald zu hause sein, kleine liebe,” you reassure your daughter of her father’s return home soon as she began to grow cranky, a daily sign of her missing him. you had just finished breastfeeding her, and that was evident in the way the majority of your tits stuck out like a sore thumb from one of your man’s thin wife beater shirts. hey, you were home alone with nothing but pretty trees and bush surrounding you.

könig couldn’t help but smile at the back of your head as you hummed her a little song as you stirred your pot of food. the way your braids were tied down in a bright pink bonnet, the way the fat of your grown woman body hung out of your booty shorts that did nothing to hide the swallow of your ass, and how your white painted toes filled themselves in your fur slippers. the primal hormones in him filled with testosterone practically rushed to the blood of his dick as he watched you dance around the kitchen with your pretty baby.

this how you got pregnant in the first place.

every day he was grateful he decided to snatch you up and take you back to his home country with him. the way you adapted to his culture the way he did yours—you made sure to teach your baby her two native languages, english and german.

no one knew where you were, and könig liked it that way. you three could play house in peace for the next few months, at least until his next deployment. it was the safest option for you. to take you both out the states where his personal life could possibly be exploited.

no one knew where in austria exactly könig was from, making it harder for anyone to possibly track down his pretty little family. you were able to work in peace without having to worry about someone finding about your husband’s real job and eventually figuring out where your daughter went to daycare. it was peaceful for you in austria. as far as the neighbors knew, your husband was in the military occasionally on long deployment missions.

not exactly a lie.

he was never 100% at ease leaving his two girls anywhere, but he knew that if you were at least living in a place that he knew like the back of his fucking hand, his anxiety would calm down just a bit while on missions.

you fall completely deaf to the sound around you as your daughter babbles in your ear while you cooked. the delicious aroma of your wonderful food fills your husband’s nostrils as he finally decides its time for him to finally come out the shadows.

your baby continued to babble things in german-english as you began to plate food only for yourself like you’d done for the past six months, completely unbeknownst to the masculine presence behind you.

“my pretty wife always manages to make such delicious meals,” the hoarse voice manages to startle you to the point where you drop your pot spoon on the floor. “been starved for a plate, lover.”

your daughter turns her head before you do, and immediately fights to be put down from your arms. at the sight of her father, she gives a bright two-toothed grin and opens her arms. “daddy daddy!”

könig wastes no time in ripping off his mask and plastering a big kiss on his baby’s cheeks. “meine hübsche prinzessin,” he greets, engulfing “been a good girl for mommy, yeah?” the ice blue eyes question as they falter over to you. you’re still standing in shock that könig chuckles at the innocence on your face. the same one he’s been in love with for years now.

he didn’t blame you though, you didn’t expect him back for at least another two months.

könig wastes no time in walking over to you, and of course the first place his hands touch are your wide hips. his pink lips smash onto your brown ones and he wastes no time in engulfing all of you into him.

he doesn’t miss the way that small tears fill his shirt. he knows you’ve been alone in a secluded area, in an almost foreign place where you hardly knew anyone. he knew how lonely you must of felt having to do all this by yourself. he was here for you now.

god, he missed you. his good, pretty little wife.

[belovanat2]

Between Pancakes and Silences | The Way Back Home | WandaNat x Little!Reader

Summary: Reader returns from a weekend trip with her parents. But all she wants is to go home to her mommies.

Warnings: breastfeeding, sfw age regression, diapers.

Note: English is not my first language. Please forgive any mistakes.

You were sitting in the second row, on the left side of the room, as always. Hair hastily tied back. Eyes downcast. Legs crossed — physically and emotionally guarded.

You hadn’t slept well.

Not since Friday.

The forced trip with your parents had ended that morning, the car stopping in front of the college as if it were doing you a favor. Your mother gave a fake smile. Your father told you to “be brilliant.” Neither of them asked how you were feeling.

And now here you were. In class with Natasha Romanoff.

The professor walked in right on time, as always. Dark blazer, steady stride. She gave the classroom a quick scan, her eyes briefly passing over you without stopping. Professional. Just as it should be. You met her gaze with a small, discreet, but tired smile.

But deep down, Natasha knew.

She’s exhausted. Left their house this morning. Didn’t even manage to say good morning. Just texted “arrived” at 11:48 in the group chat. And only because she snuck off to the bathroom. She barely said a word the entire trip.

Wanda, even though she wasn’t there, knew too. She and Natasha were exchanging quiet messages the whole time.

❤️ Wanda: “Did you see her mom’s Instagram stories? That ‘lecture’ yesterday… it looked like a cult. She was in the back. Falling apart.”

🖤 Natasha: “I saw. Today she’s in pieces.”

Natasha placed her materials on the desk and started the class.

— Today we’ll review the concepts of narrative strategy and impactful argument structure. Open your book to page 42.

The class began to stir. You didn’t. You hesitated for a few moments and had to take a deep breath before finally opening your backpack and taking out your materials.

You opened the booklet, but your mind was somewhere else.

Just five more hours.

Only five more hours until Wanda’s class, the last one. Until you could get to the car. To the gate. To the hug. To the pacifier.

The thought came quickly — and dangerously. You cut it off immediately.

You couldn’t think about that here.

Or you’d fall apart.

Your phone vibrated under the desk. A soft buzz.

The group chat: “us”.

🖤 Natasha: “Did you drink water, baby girl?”

🩷 You: “Yes. A sip. I’m okay.”

Natasha didn’t reply. She just glanced at you discreetly. You didn’t even look up. Your posture was perfect. But inside… you just wanted to be held.

She’s not just our student. She’s our baby. And she’s stuck in a role that doesn’t belong to her.

Class continued. Natasha wrote on the board, corrected questions, kept her tone firm and academic. But from time to time, she sent little notes.

🖤 Natasha: “I’m here, okay? Hang in there.”

🩷 You: “I’m trying. Really.”

Across campus, Wanda read everything on her phone, standing still in the staff lounge, heart aching.

❤️ Wanda: “I wish this class was over already. I want her in my arms now.”

You yawned, fighting off exhaustion. The diaper you wore under your pants — the one you had insisted on putting on yourself that morning in the college bathroom — was light, but present. A small anchor. A reminder of what was coming. Of what was still yours.

You fidgeted with your fingers in your lap. Thought about your pacifier. The scent of lavender and honey. The quiet of Wanda and Natasha’s room. Your little nursery…

Just five more hours.

Natasha finished a long explanation and asked the students to do a group activity. You chose to work alone. You hated group work.

While your classmates moved around, you lowered your head and typed quickly:

🩷 You: “I don’t think I can make it through Wanda’s class.”

🖤 Natasha: “Yes, you can. We’re here. Just a little longer, my love.”

You took a deep breath.

Held back the tears.

Told yourself:

Just pretend a little longer. Then you can be who you are.

And so, sitting like any student, pretending to be just another adult, you stayed strong.

Waiting to go back — not to your parents’ house. But home. To your mommies.

The bell rang softly after what felt like an eternity, announcing the afternoon break. Class was only bearable because Natasha was the professor. But that was exactly the problem. You didn’t want your professor. You wanted your mommy.

Chairs began to creak as students stood up, grabbing backpacks, phones, water bottles.

You remained seated.

Back straight, hands gripping your thighs. Head slightly lowered.

You looked like you didn’t know what to do with your own body.

Natasha watched from where she was, pretending to go over notes.

Your gaze met hers for a moment.

It was a tired look. Small. Almost childlike. A silent plea.

“Will you take me home?”

But Natasha couldn’t.

She just subtly nodded toward the door with her chin, like saying: Go on, sweetheart. Go take a breath.

You understood. You always did. You knew Natasha couldn’t do anything now.

You nodded, slowly gathered your backpack, and left with the last few students.

As soon as you stepped outside, your phone buzzed twice.

🖤 Natasha: “Go to the cafeteria, okay? Get something to eat.”

❤️ Wanda: “There’s chicken sandwich today. Or that chocolate muffin you like.”

You smiled for the first time all day. A small, discreet smile, but real.

The messages felt like a caress in the middle of stone.

🩷 You: “Okay. I’ll go.”

You walked to the cafeteria with short steps. Your legs felt heavy. The long shirt covered well, but the diaper underneath was still there — slightly damp. A quiet comfort.

At the counter, you looked at the options. Chose a chocolate muffin — warm, fresh out of the oven — and a box of grape juice.

At the register, you pulled a small black card from your backpack.

Not the one your parents had given you.

The one Natasha and Wanda had set up, with a low limit, just for moments like this. They insisted:

“You already deal with too much pressure from your parents. This one is just to care for you. It’s love in credit form.”

You paid.

Across campus, Natasha’s phone buzzed.

💳 “Approved purchase - $11.90: University Cafeteria.”

She smiled to herself and typed:

🖤 Natasha: “Good girl.”

You read it and blushed, glancing around discreetly.

You pouted a little and replied:

🩷 You: “I took a picture to show.”

You snapped a photo of the tray: the muffin sliced in half, the juice box.

Sent it to the group.

❤️ Wanda: “Yummy, sweetheart!”

🖤 Natasha: “Eat it all, okay? Then mommy will check if there’s room for milk.”

You let out a quiet giggle, still blushing.

And knowing there would definitely be room for milk. Especially Wanda’s.

You sat in the corner of the cafeteria, near the wall. Ate slowly. The taste was faint — exhaustion dulled everything — but the feeling of connection made it better.

When the snack was done, you tossed the juice box in the trash and got up.

Now came Wanda’s class.

Last one of the day.

Last stretch before going home. Home for real.

Wanda’s classroom was silent, as if the afternoon heat had set everyone to slow motion. The projector showed a presentation on symbolic construction of collective identity. Wanda’s voice filled the space precisely — calm, firm, elegant. She gestured with control, as always.

You were in the third row now.

The first thirty minutes, you held on. Took short notes, looked at the slides, underlined key terms. Focused on your mommy’s calm voice. The voice you couldn’t resist. But slowly, your mind began to drift.

Exhaustion.

Emotional fatigue.

Longing.

Next thing you knew, you were drawing little wings and abstract scribbles on the corner of the page. Pressing hard. Like that could ease something.

From the podium, Wanda noticed.

Discreetly, she picked up her phone and typed in the group chat.

❤️ Wanda: “Baby, focus on the lesson. It’s important.”

You glanced at the phone under the desk. Took a deep breath. Wanda noticed everything. Always.

🖤 Natasha: “What do you mean my baby’s not paying attention? 😠😠 Does mommy need to scold you?”

🩷 You: “I just want to go home…”

Wanda didn’t reply — she was back speaking to the class.

Natasha, in the staff room, crossed her arms and typed quickly:

🖤 Natasha: “Just one more hour. You can do it. Then there’s milk, bath, cuddles — anything you want.”

You closed your phone. Thought about everything waiting at home. Tried to listen for a few more minutes.

But your body wasn’t cooperating anymore.

You stood up. Said nothing. Grabbed your phone and left the room.

Wanda saw you go. Followed with her eyes for a few seconds. Tried to keep her composure. But inside, a spike of concern.

Where is she going now?

Wanda picked up her phone and wrote:

❤️ Wanda: “Where are you going, love?”

You replied almost instantly.

🩷 You: “Bathroom. But I don’t want to come back. I’ll stay in the courtyard.”

🖤 Natasha: “Yes, you will, baby. That way mommy Wanda can keep an eye on you. Class is almost over.”

🩷 You: “I don’t want to. It’s boring. The topic, not mommy…”

Wanda replied five minutes later.

❤️ Wanda: “Okay. But come back and grab your backpack later. No forgetting things halfway.”

🩷 You: “Okay…”

In the courtyard, the warm wind blew, stirring dry leaves. You didn’t even want the bathroom. You just wanted to leave the room.

Your mommy’s voice was making you confused.

You sat on a bench near a tree-lined walkway. Pulled out a book from your backpack: Fourth Wing. You picked it because of the cover — a dragon, golden sparkles. It looked magical. Also because you saw a girl in your Civil Law class reading it. It caught your attention.

You read two pages. Then five more.

But something in the story made you… uncomfortable.

There was too much emotion. Desire, tension. Characters touching in ways you didn’t fully understand. Not clearly. You bit your lip.

Why does this book make my chest tight?

Why does it feel like something I should know, but don’t?

You closed the book. Maybe your mommies wouldn’t be happy to know what you were reading. They always ask for the age rating. But this time, you didn’t check.

You just sat there, staring at the trees.

Not thinking much. Just waiting. Waiting for the time to come and finally go home.

The bell rang.

You got up, returned to Wanda’s classroom. It was empty now. The professor had already left. She must’ve been with Natasha already.

You grabbed your things quietly and awkwardly. Zipped up your backpack, adjusted your hair, and left the room in a rush.

You walked to the usual alley. The alley you, Wanda, and Natasha had agreed on. So no student would suspect. You crossed the campus with firm steps but slumped shoulders. The golden end of day didn’t ease the weight you carried from the weekend.

The car was already there. You sighed with relief. Tinted windows. Parked at the same spot. They were always there. Always.

You opened the back door, tossed your backpack on the seat, and climbed in.

Shut the door. Wanda greeted you first.

- Hi, baby girl!

Natasha looked back and smiled.

- Hi, sweetheart. Did you survive the classes?

And then, like a kitten meowing for comfort, you whispered:

— I want our house…

Natasha turned her head slightly, driving.

Wanda, in the passenger seat, reached her hand back right away.

— We’re already taking you, love.

You bit your lip again. Didn’t even try to hold anything back anymore.

College was over for today.

The adult mask could begin to melt.

And home — the real one — was just around the corner.

The drive to Wanda and Natasha’s house took fifteen minutes. Luckily, the college wasn’t too far.

Natasha parked the car. And you all got out.

The key turned in the lock with a soft click. The familiar scent of home filled the air: sweet lavender, clean fabric, and a light touch of vanilla — the smell of a true home. Natasha stepped in first, kicking off her heels and placing her bag on the console table. Wanda followed right behind.

You paused at the doorway, almost frozen.

Your legs felt like rubber. Your body, exhausted.

But your soul was slowly beginning to relax.

Natasha crouched down first, patiently.

— Let’s take off these little shoes, sweetheart — she murmured.

You lifted your foot silently.

Natasha unfastened the Velcro on your black sneakers — childish, already a bit worn. One came off, then the other.

Beside them, her own high heels stood tall. The contrast was so domestic, so intimate, that Wanda smiled.

It was always like this. Big shoes, little feet. The house felt whole again.

— There we go…— Wanda said, crouching down too and scooping you into her arms.

You let out a heavy sigh, your face resting on Wanda’s shoulder, arms limp.

Just breathing in her scent.

No more talking. No more pretending.

On the way upstairs, Natasha gently fixed your hair, tucking a strand away from your forehead.

— You put on a diaper… when did that happen, huh?

No response.

Just a soft little groan, muffled against Wanda’s shoulder.

But they both noticed — it was full. Heavy. Warm.

They knew you had the habit of wearing diapers for comfort. You’d take them to your parents’ house and use them when needed. But you almost never wore one on your own for college.

They climbed the stairs slowly. In the hallway, your room waited, its door half open.

It was everything you needed.

The crib with lace bumpers.

The nursing chair beside it.

The white changing table, decorated with hand-painted little animals.

And the soft pink room, with crown and teddy bear stickers across the walls.

Wanda and Natasha had put it all together with such love and care. Just how you wanted it. And just how they wanted it. For their little princess.

Wanda took you straight to the changing table. Laid you down gently.

— Let’s get these big-girl clothes off — she said, unbuttoning your cardigan.

You whimpered, in a babylike voice, eyes still closed:

— I’m big…

Natasha chuckled softly and teased you sweetly:

— Of course you are. Our big girl, huh?

Wanda nodded, laughing too.

— So big that she’s been in a diaper for over four hours without saying a word.

You let out a fussy little groan.

They unbuttoned your jeans and pulled them down carefully.

The diaper was soaked, warm, already starting to give off that sour scent of lingering urine.

You had really used it.

The two women exchanged a look.

When they opened the side tabs, they saw your skin — red and irritated.

— You’re starting to get a rash, love… — Natasha murmured, concerned.

But you didn’t react. You were far away, completely surrendered, in another world. Just blinking slowly, almost in a trance, as Wanda wiped you gently with warm cotton, and Natasha got the ointment ready.

They would need to use a lot of it. To prevent a worse rash.

The new diaper came right after — soft, printed with clouds and hearts.

The pink onesie with teddy bears was pulled over you, the buttons snapping shut between your legs with dry, sweet clicks.

Natasha leaned in to sniff your neck and scrunched her nose discreetly.

— What scent is this? — she whispered to Wanda. — Incense?

Natasha grabbed a damp cloth and wiped your neck.

— Must be something from her mom’s house — Wanda replied with a sigh. — Doesn’t suit our baby at all.

She picked up the right perfume — a baby one, gentle, with a hint of chamomile — and sprayed it on your neck, behind your ears, on your chest.

The scent changed.

Your whole energy shifted with it.

Wanda knelt down, looked into your eyes — full of tenderness, full of love.

— Do you want to nurse, sweetheart?

Without fully opening your eyes, you nodded. Of course you did. You always did.

Then you stretched out your arms — a silent, desperate gesture, asking to be held.

Natasha smiled, tired but tender.

— You’re gonna hurt mommy’s boob again if you suck too hard…

Wanda lifted you into her arms and sat down in the nursing chair.

She pulled up her shirt with practiced ease, adjusted you in her lap, and offered her breast.

You latched on eagerly.

As if trying to drink not just the milk, but the whole day you’d been through.

As if starving for presence.

For touch.

For love.

Wanda felt the strength of your suck and winced slightly.

— Hey, easy there, baby… go gentler. Mommy still needs these boobs tomorrow.

You didn’t answer. Just gave a soft whimper, still nursing.

Tiny hands gripping Wanda’s blouse.

Your body, finally relaxed.

Natasha knelt beside the two of you, gently stroking your forehead with her fingers.

— You’re home now, little one. The little house is here. Mommy’s here. Both of your mommies…

And finally, everything was at peace.

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Hungry

Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

Summary: Miguel has a lactation kink.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: Smut, lactation kink, p in v, umm I think that's it. 18+ MDNI.

Disclaimer: never been pregnant, don't know how it works entirely. Just enjoy lol Not beta-read. Also, Miguel being a father warms my heart <3

...

It'd never crossed his mind before. After all, your milk was for the baby. 

Diego nursed from you well, his tiny lips latching onto your swollen nipple with little guidance. You held him close and kissed his brow while you sang to him softly. Now and then you'd hiss, your pretty face pinched from the inevitable pain of breastfeeding. 

Miguel watched you both with a full heart—watched how you cradled his milk-drunk son against your swollen breasts lovingly before putting him down for a nap.

And when he couldn't rip his eyes away from the swell of your chest (or how your nipples continued to drip tiny pearls), he thought nothing of it.

...

"Does it hurt?" He asked in the quietness of your bedroom, his toned arm thrown around your shoulders, holding you close.

Diego began to fidget where he was nestled comfortably on his father's bare chest, his wrinkled face blooming red before a cry ripped from his tiny body. 

"Does what hurt?" You asked in return, gently cooing down at the wailing infant, scooping him gingerly in your arms.

Miguel motioned toward your engorged breasts, his eyes lingering over the damp spots forming over your fitted t-shirt, your nipples leaking through the white cotton fabric.

"Sometimes," you sighed as soon as Diego latched on, "when he doesn't drink enough or bites too hard." 

Miguel studied his son as he drank his fill; until his little eyes fluttered with sleep and his milk-covered lips fell away from your chest. 

A bead of milk formed over your swollen nipple and before it ran down the roundness of your breast, Miguel caught it with the pad of his finger, swiping it up gently and placing it in his mouth.

He hummed in surprise, looking down at your flushed face and doe eyes. 

"What's it taste like?" You whispered curiously, watching Miguel lap at his finger like a cat.

He closed his eyes, savoring the flavor on his tongue before he grunted.

"Sweet."

...

“Lemme help you,” he muttered to you one night, watching you wince and groan while you palmed your full breasts. Diego had drank himself to sleep, leaving your tits full still, straining for release. “You’re in pain.” 

You worried your lip, leaning your head back against the headboard. “The breast pump is in the—”

“No,” he said, “not like that.” He carefully positioned himself between your legs, gently lifting your shirt to reveal your swollen tits, nipples hardening immediately. 

“Miguel—”

“Shh, amor.”

He took a breast in hand, squeezing softly and watching the tiny stream of white pour from your nipple before wrapping his lips around the bud and giving a gentle suck. The sweetness of your milk invaded his senses as he drank from you, his eyes fluttering.

You moaned above him, your fingers threading messily in his hair. 

He palmed your other breast, squeezing enough to let your milk pour over his hands and down his wrist, making a mess of you. His cock was straining against his briefs as he rutted into the mattress for some fiction.

“M-Miguel,” you sighed, ignoring the dampness that pooled over your skin and under you.

“Feels good?” He murmured over your damp skin, his lips covered in milk. He tugged gently on your nipple, giving it a few kitten licks before turning his attention to your other breast, quickly suckling down more of your milk. 

You didn’t answer him—couldn’t—but he knew the answer.

You’d fallen asleep shortly after Miguel had cleaned you up, cradling you in his arms. 

But he was far from satiated.

...

When he could finally put his cock in you, he made sure your pussy was nice and wet for him. 

He’d suck on your tits till you were leaking from both your nipples and between your legs before stuffing you good, your milk pouring over his lips and down his chin. Whatever escaped his mouth would be slurped off your smooth skin, his tongue dragging between your breasts as you covered his cock in your juices.

But you preferred to ride him recently. Miguel didn't mind. He wanted you to take your pleasure from him in the most comfortable way possible for you. He knew he was big, knew his cock was a challenge for you, even more so post-pregnancy, but you knew how to manage him.

Whenever you rode him it was in the kitchen. He’d sit on a chair with your body draped over his and you’d bounce on his cock at your leisure. A baby monitor would be placed on the table, always knocked over in your mission of conquering Miguel's lap.

Tonight was no different. Miguel wanted you.

Your cunt swallowed him perfectly, his cock cushioned within your swollen, warm walls.

Your breasts, bare from any restraints, bounced in his face with every swirl of your hips. They were enticing, your puffy nipples beading with the sweet milk he loved. 

Miguel grunted, grabbing them in his large hands and gently squeezing. Milk began to pour over his hands in thin white streams, seeping through his knuckles and down the expanse of your body. His mouth immediately sucked your nipples in quick succession, and you moaned as the soreness mixed with the pleasure of his cock ramming into you deep.

When you came it was with a loud cry. Miguel immediately latched off your tit, kissing you to silence your cries as you covered him completely in your juices. You could taste the sweetness of your milk on his tongue as he kissed you with fervor, effectively silencing you. 

He gave one final thrust into your tight heat before his hips stilled, groaning in your mouth as he came. By the end of it, you were both covered in spit, milk, and cum, panting against each other. 

Moments later, Diego demanded attention, his cries crackling through the baby monitor. You gently hissed as you pulled off Miguel's large cock, his spend and yours sliding down your thighs and dripping over his lap. 

“Your son is always hungry,” Miguel complained, his hands moving up to thumb at your sore nipples. You scoffed, snatching your robe off the table where Miguel had carelessly tossed it aside, placing it over your shoulders.

“Yeah,” you grinned, swiping a bead of your milk off Miguel’s lower lips, “just like his father."

[pirateprincessblog]

let me help

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: after giving birth and getting bored at home, you come back to work. nothing has changed, except the pair of eyes that look at you in a different light in the corner of the room. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: choi jongho x f!reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: singlemother!reader, pervy!jongho, needy!reader, dom!jongho 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: milf!reader, breastplay, oral fixation, breastfeeding (LIKE TWO DROPS BEAR WITH ME), dry humping

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none? 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: this was so NOT inspired by a crazy reddit post i saw on tiktok lmao, also reader is not necessarily big boobed just imagine whatever u want

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

***

being pregnant is hard. giving birth is harder. raising an actual pocket sized human was supposed to be the hardest. yet there she is, your own child, sleeping in her crib without a single care in the world. it's been weeks since you gave birth now, and you don't know what you're doing right, but this baby might be the calmest baby in the world. almost always asleep, and when awake, laughing her ass off until she tires herself to sleep again.

frankly, you are bored. you were ready for crying, screaming, projectile fluids, messes, and whatnot. however, this child appears to be toying with you. it laughs in your face, almost as if mocking you for having to stay at home. besides sleeping, she eats quite well. your breasts are beginning to feel sensitive, but you're not complaining just yet, in case it gets worse.

"mom, i want to-" you start speaking one day, switching channels on the tv as the baby naps on your chest.

"hush! you're gonna wake her up!" the woman on the other couch whisper-yells at you.

"you did not just say that. she's passed out, look at her!" you gently pat her back, seeking a reaction. but when she only exhales in her sleep, you look at your mother with a raised eyebrow. "see? like a little drunkie."

"fine, fine. whatever. what did you want to say?"

"i want to go back to work."

"absolutely not."

"why not?!"

"you just had a baby!"

"yeah, weeks ago!"

the woman sighs, slapping her hands on her thighs in disbelief. "are you crazy?"

rolling your eyes, you sit up straight, picking the baby up and placing her on the blanket on the couch. she yawns in her sleep, and her small hands reach out to search for anything to grab on for comfort. she finds the ends of your sleeves, squeezing the fabric between her chubby fingers before dozing off again.

"mom, i honestly don't know what to do with myself anymore. i cleaned the house so many times for the past few weeks, as if i committed a crime and am trying to erase all the evidence. i have no desire for any hobbies or sports, i just want to go back to work. could you watch her for a few hours every now and then? it's not like it's every day."

just in time, your father enters the living room. seeing that he has helped himself to a bottle of beer your ex has left in the basement, you can't help but laugh.

"what is it?" he asks, noticing the difference in the energy of the room.

"your daughter wants to go back to work."

"oh, my! congratulati-"

"no! you're not supposed to be on her side." your mother slaps his shoulder, causing him to frown at her and gently push her off with that same shoulder.

"come on, mary. she's gonna die of boredom. besides, i'm sure she can adjust her schedule and shorten her working hours?"

you nod, feeling grateful that at least someone understands you. you don't give your mother a chance to protest, you wouldn't listen to her anyway. your fingers are already dialing the company, notifying them of your return.

***

your makeup and hair station awaits you just like you left it: the silly polaroids still taped on the corners of it, along with random bows and flowers. a small bouquet of fresh flowers awaits you, with an attached note and a baby store gift card.

𝓽𝓸 𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓯𝓪𝓿𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓮 𝓼𝓽𝔂𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽, 𝔀𝓮 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾!

𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓯𝓪𝓿𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓮 𝓬𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓼,

𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓮𝔃

soon after, you are bombarded with hugs and questions, first from the members then the staff.

"wow, i can't believe a whole baby came out of you! that's so weird."

wooyoung earns himself a smack to the back of his head for that, hongjoong and seonghwa looking at him disapprovingly. "you can't say that, you dumbass."

"what? that's incredible! did it hurt?"

"wooyoung, don't be so-"

"oh, it's fine. let him ask." you come to his defense. "it did hurt, like a bitch. my ex had a big head, you figure out the rest."

the rest of the day goes fast, boys enjoying asking you questions and telling you about what you've missed, and you happily answering those questions and praising them for their progress. one person doesn't speak to you, and instead chooses to sit in the corner of the room, scrolling on his phone. jongho has barely looked at you after giving you a hug and congratulating you, opting for silence instead of engaging in the conversation. you don't talk to him, instead giving him peace.

was he angry that you left? especially during an important time, when they grew as a group and needed as much help as possible? after all, you weren't only their stylist, you were there when they needed help, comforting and whatnot. you're probably the only one who knew of their crushes, secret short relationships and struggles. and you've all kept it that way for a long time, and they still trust you. not once have you betrayed their trust, and being older than them, it makes it easier for them to lay all their concerns in you.

you're sad that you weren't there to experience coachella with them, but they made sure to show you picture and videos, even gave you mingi's bucket hat that had an autograph of other coachella performers on it.

"oh, i can't take this." you try declining, shoving the hat back in mingi's hands.

"sure you can. just take it."

after going back and forth with him, you finally give up, taking the hat and placing it on the corner of the mirror, as if it was wearing it. one by one, they are done with their preparations and leave the room. there's still time until the show, yet the screaming outside is so loud one would think the boys went out already. jongho stays sitting on the couch, not giving you any attention. it gives you time to adjust your bra, your sensitive nipples rubbing against the fabric and giving you a hard time. you wish you could just take it off, but with your luck, you would lactate all over the place.

having a sundress on doesn't make it any easier, your flesh painfully starting to poke out of it. not only did you not fix the situation, you also caused them to become swollen and painful. you sigh, defeated. the only thing left to do is finish jongho quickly and go home. maybe your mother was right. what were you thinking, wearing the dress anyway? guess those oversized clothes during your pregnancy grew onto you. before, you wouldn't be caught dead in a hoodie or a simple t-shirt outside of your home.

"jjong?" you call once you prepare the station for him. when he doesn't reply, your raise your head to look at him through the mirror, and find him already staring at you. "jongho?"

he jolts, cheeks painted pink. "yes?"

"will you come over so i can finish you?"

"yeah, sure."

the young man sits in the chair, squirming for the most of the time. everything seems to go smoothly, until you have to get closer to do his eye makeup. just a hint of eyeliner and eyeshadow seems to be taking ages now, with jongho shuffling and blinking for a worrying amount of time.

"jongho, sweetheart, i need you to stay still if you want to be out of here soon."

by the time he listens, the liquid liner has dried off on the brush, and you turn around to reach into the black bottle to reapply it. a sharp pain goes through one of your breasts, causing you to yelp and drop the brush and spill the bottle all over the counter. jongho opens his eyes, then sits up straight, worry painted on his features.

"are you okay?"

"yeah, just- give me a second."

you hold onto your breasts, back turned to him. still in pain, you don't care if he sees what you're doing. all you want is for it to stop.

"does it... hurt?" he asks carefully, peeking at you through the mirror.

you hum, gently squeezing them in hopes to relieve it.

"can i help in any way?"

"no, there's not much you can do. unless you want to be breastfed so my milk ducts get unclogged." you laugh awkwardly, eyes still fixed on the mess you've created on the counter.

when you don't hear any laughing from his side, you turn around, only to find him dead serious. you stutter, embarrassment flooding your cheeks as you realize you can't really joke about these things with them. after all, they are your clients.

"sorry, didn't mean to make you uncomfort-"

"i'll do it."

at that moment, the door opens, san poking his head through. "hey dude, there's like only a handful of snacks left for you, you better hurry up."

"it's fine." jongho replies, as calm as ever.

you still stand there, processing what he said. san shrugs, then the door closes again, and the man in front of you has his full attention on you.

"will that help relieve the pain?"

"i mean- i- i usually just breastfeed my daughter and it goes away. i could try pumping-"

"i'll help." he is persistent, still maintaining a poker face. it makes you lower your gaze, eyes fixed on his hands resting in his lap. he makes it so difficult to read his emotions.

"jongho, you- you can't be saying stuff like that."

you've never stuttered like this in front of anyone. not even your ex husband had you feeling this nervous under his gaze, not at the beginning of your relationship, not at the end. not ever. yet choi jongho looks at you so intensely, making your cheeks hot and your brain a mess.

"let me just finish you off quickly and then i can go home and solve the issue."

the man sits there for a few seconds, biting the inside of his cheek. he looks at your hands, still cupping your breasts, and without a word leaves his chair.

"wait, where are you-"

he locks the door, then tries it a few times to make sure nobody can get in. you stand still, afraid to move or say anything. not until he does something. he seems to take a few moments to think about the situation he has created. he said it so causally. just what was going on in his mind?

is the new state you're in doing something to him? is that why he was refusing to interact with you?

"jongho, just get back in the chair so you can be a free man. come on."

"no. i want to help."

"fine. what, do you want me to just whip out my tits and let you do whatever to them?" you roll your eyes, avoiding to look at him.

you miss the way he smirks, and only look at him once he sits back on the chair in front of you. you yelp, hands flying to his shoulders as he pulls you to sit on his lap. there is more than just wanting to help, you're sure of it now.

his fingers toy with the outline of your sundress, knuckles caressing the swollen flesh along the way. you can't help but shiver, hands still firmly planted on his shoulders.

"sit," he orders quietly, once he notices you're hovering over his lap. when you fail to listen, he pushes you down, right on his hard crotch. "may i?"

you nod, hurriedly, as if he will change his mind if you take too long. you haven't been touched, not even by yourself, for months. ever since your husband left you, right at the beginning of your pregnancy, you were constantly nervous, sick, and whatnot. pleasure was the last thing on your mind. and even though jongho is trying to do a nice thing, your brain cannot help but think of it as a sexual interaction.

which is why you are dripping already, his fingers barely touching you as he unties the little bow that holds the front of the sundress together. he looks at your plain white bra, and both of your realize just how perfect of a choice you made for today. in hooks in the front, and it takes jongho less than a second to unhook it with a single hand.

your swollen breasts now freely spill from the loose fabric, freeing your sensitive and swollen nipples that are begging for release. the dark haired man cups them, gently kneading as if he does that every day. he doesn't squeeze them, and you are thankful that he knows what he is doing. and impressed.

his thumbs swipe over your nipples, and a hiss escapes your mouth.

"hurts?"

you nod, face twisting with pain as he tests the waters and tries various motions on them.

"they're... bigger." he comments.

"yeah... i'm quite sad i don't get to keep them."

he chuckles, and so do you, finally feeling a little relaxed. nothing about your current state should make you relaxed. you should be jumping off that chair, finish his look at go home. not...  subconsciously dry hump him.

"you know, i thought my crush on you would go away when you got married. it didn't. i thought it would go away when you got pregnant. it didn't. i thought it would for sure go away when you gave birth. and guess what? it only got worse."

with your jaw dropped, all you can do is stare at him. so there was a hidden motive after all.

"i'm going to put it in my mouth now. is that okay?"

"jongho, none of this is okay." you say, your brain working against your heart. and your pussy.

"it's fine. i'm just helping you. that's all."

"yeah, well, putting my nipple in your mouth isn't what one might consider help- oh!" he swipes his tongue over the hardened nipple, finally making you shut up.

his hand cups your breast, gently squeezing it before he attaches his lips to it. your hands instinctively grab at his hair, almost shoving his head into your chest. he chuckles, enjoying how desperate you are when he hasn't done anything properly yet.

your hips grind on his, and you aren't aware of it until the surface beneath you gets harder and harder. jongho grunts against your chest when you roll your hips properly, and it makes you stop. you try pushing him away, ready to start apologizing over and over again. but jongho simply lets go of your breasts, only to put his hands on your ass and help you roll your hips again.

his lips finally start sucking on the tense bud, causing you to yelp in pain. he squeezes your ass, as a way to comfort you. his tongue swipes over your nipple every now and then between sucking, just to soothe you. one hand cups your breast again, gently squeezing it in hopes that it will help.

this time, he is the one to yelp. you look down, embarrassment flooding your cheeks once again. your fingers have tangled themselves in his dark locks, accidentally pulling a bit harder and causing him pain.

"it's alright," he assures, smiling at you. "should i continue?"

"yes, please."

he wraps his lips around the nipple once again, sucking softly. the sight has your panties drenched; your client sitting on your chair, sucking on your tit, while you hold onto him for dear life and grind on him. the rough fabric of his jeans, combined with the fabric of your underwear, deliciously rubs against your clit, causing the pleasure to start building up in your lower stomach. you've almost forgotten about the pain, jongho's now swollen lips kissing and tugging at both of your nipples, and your crotch getting all the attention.

you no longer care about being quiet, moans and gasps shamelessly multiplying and getting louder, hips working relentlessly and fingers tugging his hair. never getting this close before, you force yourself to stop and pull away from him.

"what, what is it?" he asks, shiny eyes looking up at you.

"nothing, i-" you look down, picking the hem of your dress up and revealing a wet spot on his crotch. "i'm going to... you know."

it feels illegal to say the word.

"cum?" he finishes for you.

"yes."

"why did you stop?"

you sigh. your hands caress his cheeks and hair, fixing his messy state. "it's been a while. i don't want to cum with my clothes on. on my client's lap."

jongho takes a moment to think. you find out that it is not a good thing to let him do that. he picks you up, carrying you all the way to the couch where he sat. you find yourself laying on the soft surface, while jongho places a pillow under your head, and one under your lower back.

"can you hold this here for me?" he scrunches the ends of your dress under your chest, and you listen. "do you feel any better?"

"i mean... it's still clogged. maybe try a little harder?"

he takes it as a challenge, almost jumping on you like a starved animal. your hands now grip at the fabric on his back, nails digging into it. he doesn't protest, instead burying his head further into your chest and leaving a few feathery kisses before he takes your breast in his mouth again. just as you asked, he sucks harder. it hurts, more than before. your moans turn into whines and almost sobs, fingers hopelessly clawing at his back but not yet asking him to stop. tears threaten to spill down your cheeks, and you can barely contain them.

the man uses his hand to massage the other breast, caressing it, and the other to spread your legs so he can fit between them better. instead of going back to cup the breast he is currently working on, he slides it up your thigh, all the was to the outline of your panties. he pushes them aside, then gently brings his fingers to your folds.

"you don't- ah!" he finds your clit, giving it an experimental rub, "you don't have to do that."

"i want to." he mumbles, voice lower and raspier than you've ever heard from him before. sensing that you have stopped breathing for a second, jongho looks up at you, mouth still wrapped around your sensitive bud. he only raises and eyebrow and smirks against you, before continuing his actions, eyes not once leaving yours.

you weren't a fan of keeping your eyes open during sexual encounters. your husband didn't care. but this? jongho seems to be aware of the power his stare holds, mostly because his fingers effortlessly slip past your folds and inside your aching hole. you can't find it in yourself to look away, too lost in the way his lips look on you, and his body fits between your legs.

"harder-" you whine. "suck harder."

he hums, sucking harder and harder, while his fingers slowly start abusing your hole. he graces you with deep strokes, knuckles disappearing inside of you and fingers scissoring. the room is filled with squelching, kissing and sucking noises, along with your shallow breathing and a few moans and yelps. his thumb finds your clit once again, rubbing it as he continues fingering you. a tingling sensation appears in your lower stomach again, this time faster and stronger.

"jjong-" you gasp, liquid spilling from your breast and in his mouth. "fuck!"

he turns to the other one, repeating the process, all while his hand inches you closer and closer to the release you haven't tasted in months. white liquid drips down both of your breasts, nipples now more tense than ever.

he grunts along with you, grinding his hips on your leg. the man doesn't waste a single moment before licking away all the liquid that decorates your shaking body. the sight sends you over the edge, along with his fingers in your hole and his soft panting.

with your head thrown back over the edge of the couch, you find your body twitching as waves of pleasure wash over your body. even after jongho is done cleaning your mess that he caused, you have trouble catching your breath and calming yourself.

"hey, hey. i got you." he speaks softly, cupping your face.

he looks at you with different eyes now; soft and caring. a complete opposite of the lustful and intense one you just saw moments ago.

"feeling better?"

you nod, gulping. "i- thank you?"

he laughs, then plants a kiss on your forehead. "thank you."

"what for?"

"for making my fantasy come true."

"you're crazy," you laugh.

"for you, yes. now, let me help you get cleaned and dressed, so i can feel like i have shred of dignity before i ask you out."

"i- oh. but wait, what about you? did you...?"

he stands up, giving you space to stretch your limbs. he reveals a wet patch on his crotch, and not the one you made. "yeah... no sane man could survive this without cumming in his pants. you can't blame me."

[cheeseborgorbord2]

Beauty Created in the Strangest Way

(amab) Sevika x (afab) Harpy reader headcanons

Men and minors DNI

Warnings: fluff, dead dove content, dead animals, depression, smut, breeding, breastfeeding

Jinx and Isha cammeos

SFW

⇒You and Sevika cuddle and sleep every night in your makeshift nest. She's completely forgotten her own bed exists.

⇒Isha has been teaching Sevika American Sign Language and cues you use to communicate with the lack of hands, while Jinx has been teaching you to speak. You couldn't get it right the first few times, but slowly, you mimicked her. And to Sevika's dismay, you occasionally go on cursing tangents.

⇒You hide any feathers you take off into her hair. Sometimes, you come to her with any old flight feathers and bring them to her as a gift. She now has a box dedicated to all the feathers you give her or that she finds herself.

⇒Sevika noticed something strange about you. Recently, you had become more motherly and protective towards Isha when she and Jinx visited and stayed over. You nearly suffocated Isha trying to incubate her and always kept her in your makeshift nest. You would follow her around to make sure she was safe, even to the bathroom- outside, of course. Even harpies understand privacy.

⇒When Isha wasn't there, you'd baby Sevika. You would chew her food and try to regurgitate it back to her. You'd bring her any rats or mice you caught in the apartment and tried getting her to eat them. Sometimes you'd leave them on her pillow as she slept, scaring the fuck out of her when she woke up.

⇒The feathers around your chest and inner thighs were falling off. Some you pulled yourself. Your intimate areas were becoming more visible. Sevika had to slap some clothes on you so you wouldn't scar Jinx and Isha by accidentally flashing them.

⇒She's begun doing more research on harpies. She's read on behaviors, diet, anatomy, and mating habits and rituals.

⇒She learned that the change in behavior was due to the upcoming mating season. You were getting ready to raise a baby, explaining your treatment towards Isha, a child.

⇒You've stood in your nest for days, not getting up for food or water. Sevika had to get it for you. To lessen the load on you, she would take turns on keeping the nest warm. She wanted to get an understanding of what she might get into.

⇒Then, one miraculous day, you laid an egg. The egg was as large as an emu's, with brown freckles scattered around the white shell. You were so proud of your creation that you brought it to Sevika the moment she returned from work. She could see the joy in your eyes as your feathered tail wagged. She placed a gentle kiss on the egg before handing it back to you.

⇒She watched as you kept the egg warm under your feathers for 2 months.

⇒She also watched as the disappointment and sadness glossed over your eyes when month 3 hit and your first egg never hatched.

⇒You became depressed after your first egg didn't hatch. You wouldn't eat or leave the nest, not wanting to leave your precious egg unattended. Sevika had to fight you to get the egg out, which resulted in several scratches and bites on her attached arm and repairs needed on her mechanical one.

⇒You hadn't eaten in a few days. You refuse to eat. Not even your favorite food, thawed rats, tempts you. Sevika doesn't know what to do.

⇒She brings Jinx and Isha over; she needed some help.

"She won't eat, Jinx! I'm terrified! What if I lose her?" Sevika rambles.

Isha is currently combing through your hair and feathers in comfort.

"When did she stop eating?" Jinx asked.

"After I took her egg away."

"Why would you take her egg away? It's like kidnapping a baby. Even I wouldn't do that," Jinx crossed her arms. "You practically took her baby away."

"Damn it, I know. But her egg didn't hatch. She wouldn't leave her egg. I had to take it."

"What if you get her a fake egg?" Jinx proposes.

"Where in the world am I going to get an egg the size of Isha's head?"

"I dunno," Jinx shrugged. "Wait, did you say the size of Isha's head? Damn...Which side did she push it from?"

"Jinx!" Sevika scolded.

"What? Geez, I can't ask?" Jinx puts her hands up in defense.

Sevika huffed as she looked over at you. She saw how motherly you were with Isha. She didn't know what to do. She felt helpless, and that was her most hated feeling.

⇒One night, as she lays in the nest next to you, she thinks back on the research she did. She remembers a page she read on mating rituals and habits. Female harpies have been known to force humans into mating and becoming sperm donors, resulting in female offspring. Then, an idea popped into her mind; she could willingly mate with you.

⇒The next morning, she caresses your face, her calloused hands running over your skin. You let out a small tired trill as you're awaken with rare gentleness.

"Morning, Birdie. You okay?" She asked, her thumb running along your cheek. You shake your head, resting it against her chest.

"I can make it better."

NSFW

⇒Sevika kisses you with passion and sweetness. She puts all her love in the way she kissed you, the way her hands roamed your feathered body.

⇒Her hands slip off the tube top and boxers she lended you, revealing your fully naked parts to her. She worshipped your nipples with her mouth as her thick fingers ran along your slip.

"You want this, my good girl?" She whispered into your ear. You nod, letting soft moans slip out.

⇒Her fingers start at a low pace inside you at first but speed up when you beg her to.

"P-please, fuck, fuck," you choke out.

⇒When she makes you come, you waste no time in struggling to take her pants off, but damn these wings.

⇒ She's huffing and panting as she thrusts her hips up as her cock drives deeper into your tight pussy. The sounds of skin slapping echo throughout the room. Your gummy walls gripped her like a vice, sucking her in further, the tip of her cock hitting your cervix. Your wings wrap around her as she brings you closer to another orgasm.

"Co...come..ing!" You squeak as your walls spasm around her.

"Fuck!" Sevika groans, her hips thrusting up a final time, her hands holding your hips down as she shoots thick ropes of cum into your womb.

⇒She peppers kisses all over your face after coming down from her orgasm. She gently lays you down against the pillows, allowing you to relax before moving her hips again, fucking her cum more into your womb. Your tits bounce with every impact of her hips against your thighs.

⇒She lifts your hips up, angling them, her shaft rubbing against that special spongy spot that makes you see stars. The friction quickly brings you to your third climax. She slows her movements.

⇒ The next thing you know, she's folding you in half, knees to your chest, into a mating press, roughly pounding herself at the delicious angle. Her heavy balls, churning copious amounts of cum, slap against your slightly feathered ass.

⇒She's whispering sweet nothings into your ears as she gets close.

"Gods, I love you so much. Good girl. I can't wait to have a baby with you."

⇒Her hips deliver the final blow as she busts more seed into your womb, holding you close. Her cum drips out with her cock inside, your womb and pussy filled to the brim.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

SFW (again)

⇒Sevika is happy when you begin eating again.

⇒She's awoken in the middle of the night by you shaking her to show her the five new eggs you finished laying. She smiled, a tear slipping out her eye.

⇒It's been two more months. Any day now, the eggs should hatch. Sevika has called in sick with food poisoning and is staying at home. She wants to be there when her babies are born.

⇒You two are asleep when the sounds of cracking break the silence of the night. You two immediately perk up at the noise. You lift up your feathers to the sight of cracked shells. As you move for Sevika to get a better view, your eyes light up.

⇒Two of the eggs hatched successfully. Two baby harpies are born, naked wings and small yet sharp talons. Their skin is light brown, and they have small tufts of hair and feathers covering spots on their heads.

⇒You hold one baby girl to your breast, helping her latch on, your daughter hungrily feeding. Meanwhile, Sevika holds your other daughter in her arms, looking in adoration at her two daughters.

"They're beautiful."

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Headers made with Pinterest images (no art featured in the future is mine, unless stated otherwise). I did make the headers.

Please do not copy my work without credit. Likes and reposts are appreciated.

[recoveringsoulsposts]

Being a 4B Woman is so easy because Men offer little to no value to Women’s lives

Being 4B is so easy as a woman because men do not offer much value to women’s lives

Let’s say a heterosexual couple decides to go 50/50. You will inevitably end up adding far more value to his life than you will receive in return.

Women typically end up doing the majority of:

• Domestic labor

• Acting as a therapist + Emotional support

• Managing pregnancy, childbirth, and breastfeeding (which cannot be split 50/50)

Women will inevitably become the default parent while still being expected to look beautiful, maintain an attractive appearance, and keep up with societal standards. So even in a 50/50 financial arrangement, women are not truly experiencing equality.

As a result, you’ll end up performing most of the “traditional feminine” roles while also contributing financially by providing 50% of your income. How do women benefit from this arrangement? While there are some couples who achieve a true 50/50 split, they are the minority. Most women end up doing a “double shift” — working their paid jobs and then handling the majority of household duties due to ingrained stereotypes. Studies show that women perform 70% of household chores even when they pay 50% of the bills.

Now, let’s consider a traditional heterosexual couple where the man is the provider:

• You’ll be expected to handle all the housework, cooking, cleaning, and domestic chores.

• You’ll be responsible for all childcare and emotional support.

• Pregnancy, childbirth, and child-rearing are entirely your responsibility.

• You are expected to be available for sex at all times because you are supposedly “privileged” to have a provider man.

• You must maintain an attractive appearance, staying in shape, and being visually appealing.

Essentially, you’re expected to act as a servant in exchange for what? For a man to “provide.” But what do you actually gain? Aside from room and board, what are you truly receiving in exchange for all the services you provide? If you were to outsource every service that women provide, a man’s salary likely wouldn’t cover the full cost of your labor. Even without this provider man, he would still need to work, earn a living, and maintain a home. So your labor is subsidizing his lifestyle.

Furthermore, there are inherent risks to being around men — even basic safety is a factor. Remember, one woman dies at the hands of a man every 10 minutes. Women are at greater risk of being harmed by their own husbands. There is always a chance the man you are with may be addicted to pornography, video games, or consuming harmful “red pill” propaganda that teaches males to manipulate and mentally abuse you. Men are often not worth the hassle or the investment, especially when they put your psychological well-being & life at risk.

The reality is that most men lack the looks, height, or wealth to even demand half of what they expect from women. Women have historically been forced to perform all these roles without any reciprocal return on investment (ROI). Women are being exploited in relationships with men. Women who still want to be in relationships with men and if they still choose to engage with men, they should demand more, do less, and prioritize themselves. Women are the prize. Men are the ones who struggle to be alone, who crave women’s attention, and who pay for services like webcam interactions and OnlyFans just to experience a connection with women.

Marriage and relationships with men typically decrease women’s quality of life. Men are often parasitic, siphoning women’s energy to build themselves up at the expense of women’s livelihood and well-being. Men live longer when they are with women, benefit financially, experience more success, are happier, and gain stability. The same cannot be said for women. The constant push for marriage and romance is because, without the illusion and intangible experience of “love,” men have little to offer women that is genuinely valuable. Without this idea of love, women have no reason to stay in relationships with men.

The dynamic between men and women is parasitic, when you have men who expect women perform the majority of domestic work, emotional labor, and support for men in relationships, which is actually unnatural when we consider how most species function in nature. Typically, it is males who must prove themselves to females, if they want a chance at reproduction. Patriarchal societies have flipped this natrual system by positioning men as the dominant gender for centuries, by making women dependent on men for survival. Without this dependence, men offer fuck all to women.

. There’s an actual ROI in having a career, being focused on education and money. Being with a man and having children is a 24-hour job. It never stops. ALL RISK, NO REWARD. If men want to be in relationships with women, they must make themselves useful. Most males are a burden and are to obnoxious and entitled to realise they are not worth the risk or hassle of adding all these responsibilities to women’s lives. If you meet a “unicorn” — a genuinely equal and supportive partner — that’s great. But RARE. But for the vast majority of women, males are simply not worth the cost.

Women who are 4B are making the most logical decision for themselves which is completely understandable.

[insomniadreamzz]

Hey I'm absolutely obsessed with your series about the reader having Jinx's child. I would like to ask if you could write a scenario where Jinx arrives at the hideout and the reader is breastfeeding the baby and Isha is laying down with her head resting on the reader's shoulder looking intently at the small figure in the reader's lap, something like Jinx joining them and after putting Isha and the baby to sleep they finally have some alone time and they have romantic but intense sex? Thanks♥️

For more context please read the previous part „Our Family“

Part 3 https://www.tumblr.com/insomniadreamzz/775006861557661697/our-family-part-3

———

Our family part 2

G!P Jinx x Fem!Reader

Mentions of smut, G!P, fluff

It was already in the evening, Jinx was the whole day out of her hideout to do some work together with Sevika. You hated it when she was away, knowing it can be really dangerous out there especially when they had to go to Piltover and do some business there.

However, you spend the whole day taking care of Isha and your daughter Powder. playing with Isha while the little one was asleep and right now you were sitting on the couch, feeding your little one while Isha was laying with her head on your shoulder, seeming to feel tired now after a whole day of playing with you when you had the time to. Isha eyed her little sister all the time, she was happy to be a big sister and soon having someone to play with. It was exhausting but you loved your life.

Jinx finally arrived back home at her hideout, immediately smiling when she saw the three of you together, approaching you before placing a kiss on your lips and one on Isha’s temple. „Hey my loves, how was your day?“ She asked before sitting down next to you. „It was…very eventful.“ You chuckled. „How was yours? Did you have success?“ You asked in return, making her nod in response. „Yeah everything went just like planned. I am happy to be back to my family though.“ She mentioned, looking down at the smallest one here with a bright smile. „You three are the reason why I am more careful now and don’t try to bomb myself anymore when I get into serious trouble.“ Jinx said with a little laugh but you knew in fact it wasn’t funny at all.

Every time Jinx was close to lose she wanted to bomb herself and the enemy but that’s not happening anymore. She had a reason now to stay alive and it was you and the kids. A lot of things have changed in her life ever since she met you and you could say she was happy for once in her life. „I think little Powder is done now.“ You said, making the blue haired woman nod, watching you picking up the baby and pat her back gently. „It’s still weird hearing my real name but I gave it a better meaning. Powder is our daughter now and not my old self who…jinxed everything…“ You notice her voice getting softer, making you frown a little bit. „I know Jinxy. Don’t think about your past anymore, focus on the present. The Powder you were isn’t existing now. You’re Jinx and Powder is our little beautiful girl.“ You tried to light her mood up a little and you succeeded, Jinx smiled at your words. „Yes.“ She agreed with you and Isha crawled over to Jinx, hugging her tightly as a little yawn left her.

„Someone looks tired huh? Let’s get you to sleep.“ Jinx mentioned, Isha nodding while rubbing her eyes. You were busy rocking the baby to sleep while Jinx put Isha into bed. The past weeks you and Jinx made sure to make the hideoud ‚baby proof‘ putting up walls on the edges of the giant fan so none of the two girls would ever fall. Especially when Powder will start crawling one day. Better be prepared sooner than later. You even managed to create rooms in there so everyone had their little privacy. Everything was just perfect now.

Powder was finally asleep as well and you made sure to carefully and quietly put her into her baby bed, pulling the blanket over the little figure with a bright smile.

Once both kids were in bed sleeping, you and Jinx finally had their alone time. You both being in your bedroom as you got ready for bed but there was something on Jinx’s mind, you could clearly tell. „Is everything okay my love?“ You asked as you undid her braids, feeling there was something off. „I am good don’t worry. I am very happy and still I can’t figure out how I deserved this…how I deserved you, Isha and Powder. You can’t imagine how happy that makes me, having a family…“ You heard her voice crack in the end of her sentence, she was crying but this time out of happiness which made your eyes tear up as well. „You make me the happiest too.“ You said as you hugged her from behind, now nuzzling into her open, soft blue hair, inhaling her scent. You loved your girlfriend so much it was hard to describe it sometimes.

Jinx shifted, moving a little bit to face you before crashing her lips on yours, both of you kissing each other deeply and with so much love. It turned you on a little when she moved her tongue inside if your mouth, exploring every inch and playing with your tongue, you gave in with a hum, letting her dominate the kiss as you let yourself completely fall, letting her hands slip under your shirt and move up to your breasts, gently squeezing them which made you moan softly. „Jinx…“ You hum softly, breaking the kiss. She looked at you with a lustful gaze, making you blush. „We don’t need our clothes now do we?“ You said with a chuckle and in no time both of you got rid if your clothes, Jinx pushing you down on the bed as she hovers over you, her lips finding your neck, leaving hickeys and little bites on your sensitive skin, making you gasp and moan as you ran your hand into her hair. „Fuck…you know how to make me weak do you?…“ You whispered close to her ear, sending shivers down her spine as she then pulled back to look into your eyes. „Of course I know what my baby likes…“ She said with a smirk before continuing her work down your chest, starting to play with your breasts which obviously got bigger after having your child, giving her more space to leave hickeys and once she started flicking her tongue over your sensitive nipple, you let out another soft moan.

„I love you…“ You mumble under your breath, chuckling a little bit when her sweet soft kisses up your neck tickled you until she reached for your lips again. „I love you too.“ Jinx said in between soft little pecks on your lips. Your hands move down along her sides, enjoying to feel her body. Your hand reached down to her shaft, gently moving your hand up and down, wanting to make her feel good too. She moaned softly as well now as she felt the pleasure from your hand rubbing her shaft, her hips automatically jerking forward. „Fuck…“ She cursed under her breath. „P-Please rub it against me…“ You begged and of course Jinx won’t deny you. Your hands move back to wrap around her neck as she teased you with the tip first and then rub it between your wet folds, both of you humming softly at the good feeling. „Yes…good girl let me get it nice and wet for you before I fuck you.“

Her words made you feel even more turned on, moaning once she finally moved inside, thrusting her hips back and forth inside of you, making you moan more loudly. Jinx leaning down to shut you up with a kiss. „Shh…baby not so loud you will wake up the kids.“ She mumbled against your lips with a chuckle. You bit down on your lower lip, trying to keep quiet as she fucked you, her hands reaching for yours intertwining your fingers as she wanted to hold you, your legs wrapping around her waist. Both of you had intense eye contact, looking at each other with so much love and passion as soft moans left both of your lips, your pussy clenching around her cock after a while, making her feel you were about to cum soon. „Is my baby close huh? Good. Cum for me my love.“ She cooed before letting go of your hands, sitting up as she grabbed your hips before pounding inside of you in a fast pace, making you moan out, immediately biting down on your lower lip hard as you noticed you got a little too loud again, shutting yourself up. The view of Jinx pounding into you with her beautiful long blue hair hanging down her chest and a few strands of hair along her face, it was just so sexy it drove you over the edge, making you reach your orgasm as your cunt pulsed around her, legs shaking.

Jinx immediately leaned down again after you ride out your orgasm, kissing you deeply and passionately. „Shh…it’s okay. You did so well..“ She whispered against your lips, you slowly calming down from your high, knowing you still had to get her off. „Hnn…we are not done yet, let me make you cum.“

She pulled out of you, you getting on your knees as you positioned yourself so you were ready to suck her off. Your tongue gently swirling around her tip before taking her cock into your mouth, making her moan and grab your hair as you kept moving, taking her cock deep down your throat as you kept yourself steady by holding her hips. „O-Oh fuck…yes just like that baby…I am so close fuck…“ She said in between her moaning, instinctively moving her hips, accidentally making you choke on her as she finally came as well, releasing her cum inside your mouth. Of course you made sure to swallow it all, smirking once you pulled away and looked up at her as you were panting softly.

„God…I love you so much.“ Jinx said before cupping your cheeks and kissing you deeply.

You both were so in love it was hard to describe into words but your actions already showed enough. Soon you and Jinx made yourself comfortable as you fell asleep in each others arms, enjoying the warmth of each other’s bodies.

———

Should I make more parts of this Series? Do you like it? 👀

[queenimmadolla]

𝐍𝐨 𝐧𝐚𝐩𝐬

Summary: Eddie being sleep deprived because his three month-old baby won't go down for a nap.

A quick little blurb that's been bothering me since last night so I just had to jot it down. More of Eddie and Penny here.

“C’mon, sweet pea. You’re killin me.”

  Eddie sighed, placing his three month-old on her back, alongside him on the bed. 

  Just as she had the last seven times he’d tried to lay her down, his baby began grunting, straining herself as she attempted to sit up on her own, neck muscles working overtime. She wouldn’t be able to sit up, of course. Still smaller than his forearm, Penny was much too little, nor did she have that kind of control over her body, but still she tried, wrinkly fingers curling into fists, face darkening as she trembled and her upper half tensed.

  She could hurt herself, though. So once more, Eddie sighed, carefully lifting her up and settling her on his upper torso, her little head bobbing clumsily in the crook of his neck as she continued to grunt and squeak.

  Penny wasn’t supposed to be awake, she was fighting sleep and doing so fiercely. Twenty-seven minutes past her nap time and she was trying to stare at the world around her in wonder rather than rest as she should so she wouldn’t be up through the night and keeping the two of you up. But this was now Penny’s world. And they were just living in it and caring for her, completely at her mercy.

  He’d set the sleepmosphere; turned off the lights, closed his blinds, and was playing a lullaby that came from the giant baby monitor that stayed above her crib. Plus, his little baby had a plump tummy full of breastmilk and no gas to upset her. Eddie had rocked her until she got quiet, but everytime he so much as peaked around to see if her big brown eyes were open, they were. Wide open and flickering to everything in the room, little mouth parted in awe. She even had the audacity to struggle against his hand, cradling the back of her soft and dainty head.

  Penny was getting stronger and stronger every day.

  “Okay, why don’t we make a deal? You go to sleep right now, and I’ll convince your mom to up the ounces of your bottles and distract her with conversation when she’s breastfeeding you. Look at that, you’d get more food and more rest. It’s a win-win because then you wouldn’t be screeching at daddy in the middle of the night while he’s sleep deprived and warming up a bottle for you.”

  And when he felt his baby’s bobble head whack into the side of his neck, “That’s unnecessary. I made you a fair offer with no cons on your part—violence is not the answer.”

  He waited a beat, eyes staring at the wall as he became overly aware of the bags under his eyes, the exhaustion that had settled over him that he’d since learned to run on. Eddie had reached the manic state already, now it was just acceptance.

  Penny let out a particularly protesting squeak, loud and demanding as she seemed to finally run out of strength, face rubbing into his collar bone until she could replenish it and lift her head again.

  “Fine. You win. Just know, when I’m old and senile and you’ll have to change my diapers, I will be returning the favor.”

[allywthsr]

MAKING ORNAMENTS | (l.norris)

summary: you and your kids make ornaments, lando is a supportive dad

wordcount: 1.2k words

pairing: dad!landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: kids

notes: I want Lando to take care of my kids 🥺

advent calendar

You sat with Lando and your two kids, Louis and Sofia around the table, craft items in front of you. Louis was three years and little Sofia was just half a year old, she currently lay in Lando’s arms, while he was feeding her. She latched just fine at the beginning, but two weeks ago she started to refuse your breasts and only wanted to be fed by the bottle, it wasn’t your ideal breastfeeding ending, but if she felt more comfortable with the bottle, you weren’t one to deny her that.

Lando stared down at her with a big smile, still in a dream that she was here and he was able to protect her, his little princess. Not that he wasn’t protective over Louis, but he was a little boy, he was headstrong and already stood up for himself. Sofias' hand was wrapped around Lando’s thumb and he left kisses every now and then on her forehead, smelling that baby smell each time, she smiled up at him, clearly happy that he was feeding her.

But back why you were sitting around the table with the family, you wanted to make Christmas ornaments and presents. You found some cute stuff online and wanted to try it out with your kids.

The one you liked the most was an ornament diy, you needed to take a bit of clay and form it into a flat round shape and press the kids‘ hand in the clay, afterwards, you needed to make a little hole at the top, where you could later put a thread through and hang it on the Christmas tree. So you got to work, rolling around the clay with your hand to warm it up a little. You pressed it on the table, that you covered with cling film, so it wouldn’t get dirty, and tried to flatten it, while keeping the round shape.

Louis wasn’t as happy with the idea of having to do crafts, he liked to play with his toy cars or stack his Lego Duplo on top of each other, the only crafty thing he liked was Play-Doh, it was rare that he wanted to draw.

When the clay was flattened enough and you made two of them, you ushered Louis to come to you, he climbed down his kiddy chair and you lifted him on your lap, ”Louis, do you want to press your hand in the clay? We then have your handprint on it.“

He looked at you with big eyes, ”Mama, why?“

Lando chuckled while Sofia was almost finished with her bottle.

”We then can hang it on our tree, as an ornament.“

”Why?“

By now Lando was laughing, Louis had his questioning phase at the moment, everything was questioned and he had to know the answer.

”Because it’s pretty and a good memory.“

He nodded and held out his hand to you, you gently grabbed his arm and pressed his hand into the clay, with your other hand you pressed his fingers more into the clay, making sure his handprint was fully on there.

Lifting his hand, you gasped at the handprint, it was perfect, ”Look, Louis! Your handprint, what do you think?“

”It’s pretty mummy, daddy, look!“

Lando got up with the empty bottle and Sofia and came around, so he was able to look at the handprint.

”Louis, you did so good! It’s beautiful.“

He brought the bottle to the kitchen and turned Sofia around so he could burp her, he came back and caressed Louis‘ head.

”Louis, do we want to do that again? It’s for Nana and Papa, so they have one as well for their tree.“

He nodded and held his already dirty hand to you again. You repeated the step you did a few seconds ago, and when he lifted his hand, the three of you gasped.

”Mummy! My hand.“

”Pretty, isn’t it? Should we go and wash your hands?“

Louis nodded and you lifted him off your lap and sat him on the floor where he started to run to the bathroom. Quickly you left a kiss on your daughter's cheek and went after your son, to help him wash his hands. Once his hands were clean and you returned to the table with Louis, Lando, and Sofia waiting for you two, Sofia was burped and ready for her turn, not that she knew what was happening soon.

”Look, Louis, I will make a hole in the clay and once it’s dry, we can hang it on our Christmas tree. Do you want to watch your sister do the same?“

He excitedly nodded and sat on his kiddy chair again, playing with a few cars while you made the holes in the clay. Sofia was getting fuzzy, Lando tried to calm her by bouncing her up and down, but she was not having it.

”Daddy, do you want me to talk to Sof?“

He was so mature for his age and already the best big brother ever, he knew when Sofia was fuzzy, not a lot helped, she mostly wanted to be held and played with. Lando nodded and lowered Sofia, so Louis was able to look at her while standing up.

”Sof, you can stop crying, it’s not scary, and when it’s finished we have a pretty-looking ornament, you don’t need to cry.“

You teared up at what Louis was saying, he was truly the best big brother ever, protecting his sister at all costs and trying to cheer her up. He kissed her cheek and Lando gave Sofia to you, so you could get over with the clay part pretty quickly. While Louis was calming her down, you already made two round shapes, the only thing that was missing was her handprint.

You positioned her so that you could press her hand in the clay, Lando helped you with gently adding pressure on her hand to get her handprint on there. When you lifted her hand, and the print was beautiful, you immediately pressed her hand against the other clay, Lando repeating the same as he did with the other one.

Louis squealed when he saw her handprints and Lando took her to the bathroom, where he cleaned Sofia's hands.

You moved the clays to a safe spot where they could dry, and Louis couldn’t reach them.

”Mummy, when’s daddy coming back? I want to play with him.“

”Soon baby, he’s putting Sof down for a nap, did you like crafting? We can do it every year and see your hands grow!“

”Yes, mummy, but I can go play now?“

You chuckled and nodded, when Lando came back and kissed your cheek, you told him that Louis was waiting for him in the living room.

”I love you, and our kids so much.“

[daengtokki]

part ten // serial killer!Kim Seungmin/afab reader

WC: 12.1k

RATING: mature/mdni—contains: fluff, hospital/nicu settings, choking (mentioned), meds (mentioned), manipulation, hallucinations, things staring ominously from a distance switching povs

SYNOPSIS: Seungmin floats through life alone, haunted by his memories—keeping himself under control, and quieting his mind the only way he knows how…killing and watching the life leave his victims eyes. When you cross his path on a morning hunt, something new (something forgotten) starts to move inside of him, leading both of you on a path to confront the unspeakable past.

COMMENTS: 700 followers is crazyyyy, thank you so much for hanging out with me! My giveaway will be up within the next few days as a proper thank you to all of my readers, rebloggers, and those who leave me lovely comments and messages!

[ ML— DEITY MASTERLIST AND TAGLIST]

@kkamismom12/ @r0tt1n/ @heluvschibi / @feckinbecky / @missystay / @seungluvr / @babrieeee / @curiouscocoabean / @feelikecinderella / @carpioassists / @soulsbbg / @san-axa0 / @vixensss / @keiizzx / @xyliskz / @reignessance / @velvetmoonlght / @ghostedgameplays / @pochaccochacco / @lashaemorow / @eastjonowhere / @fackeraccount / @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna / @maddycline / @smilefordongil

Seungmin is terrified at the idea of picking them up and holding them, and his soft touches are still making him nervous regardless of them becoming more receptive to it. They know he’s here, and they know you’re here, and you think being held, together, is exactly what they want and need, but he looks at them and sees the same paper butterflies he just folded.

“When the nurse comes back, maybe she can show us how to pick them up without upsetting them.”

He beams and nods, “I do want to hold them. You should be holding them…are you able to feed them?”

The call button plays a cute melody when you push it. “Oh, no…I wish I could, but—“ you look down at yourself and cup your breasts in your hands. They have grown, and they are sore, but you haven’t noticed anything significant happening. You might need some help.

“That’s okay. That’s why we have special formula for them until you can. And if you can’t…oh, please don’t cry.” You watch him move through bleary eyes, and he carefully lifts himself onto the bed. “You’ve worked so hard today, and you’re tired.”

“What if it never comes, and I can’t feed them?”

Before he can continue his attempts at comforting you, the nurse returns. “Is everything alright?”

“She’s upset that she can’t feed them”

“Don’t worry yourself too much. They’ll be tube fed for a while before we try a bottle, or breastfeeding. But we have nurses to help with that, and I’ll have one visit sometime today to put your mind at ease.”

The top being taken off the incubator makes Seungmin nervous all over again; seeing them exposed, breathing and feeling the same air as him. But he needs to hold them, so he watches the nurse pick Haesung up with soft, open palms. She bends and brings him closer, rubs his back with two fingers, and hands him to you.

“Just like that—good. Skin touching skin, just what he needs.”

She does the same with Haneul, but this time, it’s Seungmin’s turn. He places one hand carefully on his back; the other cups his tiny diapered butt and holds him close. He’s perfectly still, but you can see the rise and fall of his chest, and Haneul moving along with it. His eyes open, just barely, and close again—when you look down, Haesung is doing the same, and from here you see the dark of his eyes each time they flutter open.

“They’re much cuter than they were on the ultrasound.” Seungmin laughs and gives moving a try. He sits back in his chair, and his fingers glide across the nape of Haneul’s neck. “His eyes are lighter than I expected.”

“Yeah, Haesung’s look kind of hazel, but they’ll probably get darker over the next few months.”

The sound of Seungmin’s phone startles you. It’s Heecheol, you assume, but he’s not paying it any mind. Every bit of his attention is on Haneul, and you don’t expect that to change until he’s safe in the incubator again. It’s another few minutes before the nurse returns, and when she does, Seungmin reluctantly gives him up so he can join his brother on your chest.

“Was that him?”

“Who?”

“Your phone”

He leans forward and taps his screen, “yes, it’s him. Uhm, he said he’s going to head back to the apartment, but he would love to see a photo of the babies.”

You drape your arm over their backs, and they gradually shift closer. It’s fascinating to watch them gravitate toward each other like two little magnets. “Yeah, we should probably take some photos while we have them here with us.”

Seungmin starts getting them from every angle he can, but it doesn’t take long before he’s distracted enough to stop and talk to them again. He moves to your other side and talks to Haesung, who seems to have fallen into a good sleep. “Okay, one more.”

Several hours later, Seungmin makes it home, and it’s only because you finally convinced him he needed to shower and eat. And you need to make me breakfast for tomorrow morning…please. He will, and maybe lunch, too. He’s almost completely forgotten about his antics before the labor started, and how much of a blur disposing and cleaning up became. It isn’t until he walks past the vacant apartment that he remembers leaving the body in there; well-wrapped, but still…it’s just sitting there, a few feet from the door. No smell, thank god, he thinks. At least not to him. Heecheol is still on the other side of this apartments wall, unless he left unannounced, and he might notice something Seungmin doesn’t.

He’s sitting in the living room—television on and playing one of the crime dramas you like so much. There’s one crib together next to him, and the other is halfway there. Seungmin wonders what else he did while he was here all alone.

“Hey dad, welcome back”

The smell of grilled beef, and something a little spicy hits his nose. “Cheoli, you didn’t have to do all this by yourself.” But his stomach grumbles at the thought of dinner, and he knows after he eats, he’s going to crash again.

“It wasn’t much. Besides, I helped myself to a few beers and the snack stash in the cupboard.”

“And made dinner”

“Your boys look good for twenty-five weeks. I think they’ll be okay, and you’ll have them home in no time.”

Seungmin watches him curiously as he heads for the finished crib. “You think?”

“Five…six weeks, maybe. But it could be as long as her original due date.”

“June 1st…I wasn’t even thinking about what day it was. Their birthday is June 1st.”

“Gemini,” Heecheol laughs. “You have Gemini snakes.” He’s uneasy as he sits here looking up at Seungmin, but not enough to leave, and not enough to keep himself from being happy for his friend. “Did you take any other photos?”

His phone is out before Heecheol even finishes the question, and suddenly, Seungmin is one of those annoying parents who can’t wait to show off their kids. “I did.” He pulls the last one up, and hands his phone over as he makes himself comfortable on the floor.

“They already look like you. Which one is this?”

“That’s Haesung…the youngest”

“Ocean, or sun?”

“Sun”

Heecheol nods. “And the oldest?”

“Haneul”

“Just like you. And I’m sensing a pattern with this family. Sky, moon, sun, sky again.”

He isn’t sure how that happened, but it worked out perfectly, and everything about it feels right. “What was your name when you lived in the states?”

“Hale”

“Hail? Like ice, like a hailstorm?”

“Yeah, just spelled differently. I wanted to keep the H sound, but I didn’t like most of the names suggested to me.”

“I like it. You kinda fit.”

He fits? Heecheol isn’t entirely sure how he fits, but if Seungmin says he does, then he must. The more he thinks about it, the less strange it seems. He is still here, after all. Why? What the hell has gotten into him?

***

One more gentle push, and the crib is just where it needs to be. The bed is still in the way, of course, but it’ll have to be in the way until he finally leaves. When the hell is he going to leave? If I leave now, I might never come back, he thinks. Any little excuse will easily keep him away, as it should, but first Heecheol has to disconnect himself from something he’s needed for so long. But it’s not a need for friendship keeping him here. No. It’s something else.

“They look great, thank you.” Seungmin peeks in and smiles in a way reserved only for you and him. It’s still hesitant, but enough to half-close his big brown eyes, and enough to make Heecheol’s stomach do a somersault.

“No big deal. I like putting things together, so if there’s anything else…”

“Let’s eat first.”

The question gets closer and closer to the tip of his tongue as he watches Seungmin eat, and he’s eating well. He’s enjoying himself, and it’s the calmest he’s seen him since he was a few beers in at the baseball game Friday night. But it’s been nagging at him since you mentioned it. “I don’t wanna pry too much, even though seeing your meds might be as personal as things get…”

“You can pry.” Seungmin means it, even if his heart does race a little at the thought of a personal question, especially after what happened last night.

“Tokki mentioned something to me before we went to the hospital, and I was curious about it.”

Seungmin just nods—relieved it’s not about last night.

“Something about you wandering into the woods back home…if you’d ever done that when we were kids. And something about an incident with your stepfather.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry, maybe it’s too much.” He waves it away and tries to think of a new subject, but nothing comes to him. The mood of the room has already shifted, and everything is now the pine forest. It’s all he can see in the back of his eyes—the silhouette of the trees against a cloudy night sky; the silence; the heavyness and the feeling of something clinging to your back as you weaved through the trees. “We don’t have to…”

“She told you I went into the woods that night?”

It seems like he might get more information than he intended. “Not…no, not exactly. She asked if you’d done it when you were a kid. And she asked if I’d ever seen anything strange in there.” He lied right to your face and told you no. “Why did she ask, and why do I suddenly remember what we saw? I pushed it so far down, and now I can’t get it out of my head.”

“We didn’t see anything, Cheoli. Just a shadow. Just heard some sounds.”

“And smells. The feeling of something crawling under my skin.”

Seungmin closes his eyes and sees the scratches his nine year old self clawed up his arms. The itch that his nails couldn’t fix; the garden shears couldn’t fix it, either, but he never knows for sure until he tries. Only one thing stops it. “I’m sorry that you remember.”

“So you went back in there, alone?”

“I don’t have an answer for you, just like I don’t have one for her. But yes. I went in, and she had to come find me, and I don’t remember what I did when I was in there.”

Heecheol nods firmly, hoping it signals a change in the conversation. Bringing it up did not make him feel any better.

“My stepdad drove me a mile in that winter. He dropped me off and left me there, and I cried and screamed for hours until she found me.”

The cruelness of his stepfather had no limits. Heecheol knew that before he learned about this—he didn’t think it could get worse than being pushed down the stairs, or locked in the shed all night. “I’m sorry, Mo. I wish I would have been there for you.” Killing his mother still takes the prize, though.

“I needed medicated before that happened. I needed it even more after. But…it’s still there.”

Heecheol knows he’s getting much more than he intended. He’s getting answers for the question he asked, and the one still sitting in his head, too. The professional part of him knows schizophrenia more frequently manifests in self-harm than it does murder, but it does happen. He finds himself staring at the thin scar on Seungmin’s forearm as more pieces fit together. “Did something happen when he left you there?”

Seungmin remembers it in pieces, and it comes to him like most of his dreams; disjointed and confusing. The memory returned to him slowly, over several nights in Daegu. Not even you know the details of this particular nightmare. “It was late afternoon when we went in, so most of my time there was at dusk…and dusk may as well have been night in those woods. But when night came, well—”

“What did you see?”

“It saw me more than I saw it, but I did see what it wanted me to see. It peeked from behind the trees, and it whispered…I think. I could hear something in my head…noises, vibrations…”

scratch scratch

“No…” Seungmin mutters. “Not now.”

“What?”

scratch scratch

The prickle of goosebumps moves down his arms; his stomach lurches. “Did you hear that?” He asks Heecheol, already knowing the answer. “The scratching?”

He waits a moment and listens before shaking his head. “I didn’t hear any scratching.”

Not now, he thinks, and his head falls into his hands. A few deep breaths might help, so he peeks through his fingers and focuses on the movements of his feet. One deep breath, and Heecheol’s hand moves gently over his back. It does the opposite of what Seungmin thinks it will—it calms him, just like yours does. The warmth is a welcome change to the cold sweat washing over him. “It’s not there…” he whispers.

“No, probably not.”

scratch scratch

“Fuck…last night didn’t matter.”

Heecheol chooses to ignore that comment for the moment. “Where is it coming from? The front door?”

Seungmin nods, and Heecheol’s hand is gone. The lock clicks, the door opens slowly, and there’s silence as he imagines him standing there looking out at the empty hallway. He returns, and his hand lands on Seungmin’s back again. “Look at me.”

Just like he listens to you, he listens to his friend. A soft voice with a hint of demand, as if he has no choice. Heecheol might have made him if he hadn’t immediately lifted his head, but the look is just as soothing as his touch.

“Let’s talk about something else, yeah? We have better memories to dwell on, I’m sure. How’d you do in school?”

“School? Oh, that feels like so long ago. I did well until high school, but I managed to graduate thanks to my aunts. Almost went to junior college, but I was too…uhm, I guess it wasn’t a good time.”

Heecheol nods in understanding. He doesn’t need Seungmin to explain that his illness held him back, if that’s what it was. Maybe college didn’t feel necessary after the inheritance he received from his father. Looking around the apartment gives him all of the information he needs to know in regard to that—Seungmin and you want for nothing. “I don’t want this to sound insensitive, because it’s just curiosity…”

“Yes?” Seungmin doesn’t care what it is, as long as it keeps him distracted from the noises in his head.

“The two of you aren’t married, even though I recall the nurse addressing you as her husband. And she doesn’t work, I take it?“

“We’re not, and no…she quit her job when she thought she was leaving for good.”

He wants to ask more about that—considering what he witnessed, the dynamic of their relationship is far more interesting than it was two months ago. “She’s here illegally.”

It’s been the least of his worries lately, which may have been a stupid mistake. The wrong person finding out could have upheaved everything just as badly as Seungmin messing up a kill. Now his mind wanders to the body down the hall—all the two of you ever do is play with fire. He can’t be so reckless. He can’t risk anything happening to you or the babies. “Yeah, I guess we should work on that. Marriage would be a good start.”

“The sooner the better. Put a ring on your to-do list.”

“What is it, Min?”

His gaze is fixed on the incubator in front of him; on the two of them cuddled together, sleeping soundly. Seungmin is still feeling a little bit of disconnect between him, father, and them, his sons. It doesn’t feel real yet, and he knows that’s partially because the three of you are still stuck in this hospital.

“Hey…are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine. I’m sorry.” He is. He really is.

Heecheol visited briefly before heading back home, and Seungmin does still feel a little guilty for not taking him to the station. Heecheol assured him it was fine, and him spending time with you was much more important. You made it a point not to stare at him as if at any moment you would have to defend Seungmin, and you did pretty well.

“I’ll finish cleaning everything up when I get home, now that I’ll have time by myself.”

You squint your eyes at him, as if it’ll clear up any possible misunderstandings between you. “Okay.” Since coming into the room, he’s been distant.

“I have something for you.” Seungmin’s hand fidgets in his pocket, but he doesn’t let you see what he has yet. “I’ve never asked you what kind of jewelry you like, but since you don’t wear much, and the things you do wear are very simple…I went with that.”

“Jewelry?”

He nods, and red starts to creep up his neck. “But if you don’t like it, we can pick something else.”

“No, no I want whatever you picked.”

Finally, he pulls his hand out and reveals a small wooden box, but he doesn’t know what to do as you stare excitedly at it. Should he hand it to you? Open it and ask how he assumes you’d expect a proposal to happen? Yes, he should probably make this that type of moment for you. “Okay.” He slides the lid open, and he doesn’t think he can get more nervous until he sees the ring again. Maybe it was a bad choice. He really should have asked what you liked. “I…” he stops when he feels himself starting to stutter.

“Yeah?” You take his hands in yours and hold them steady.

“I…was thinking we should get married. Pretending seems silly now that the babies are here, and I want you to feel safe and secure with me in every way. I should have asked you months ago.”

“We should, you’re right.”

“Yeah?”

You pull the ring out of the box and examine it carefully. “I was waiting.” The color is a soft blue, and on each side is what you assume are tiny moonstones.

“I’m not sure what kind of gems you like, but I figured their birthstones would be a safe choice.”

“Birthstones? Oh, is that what they are?” You look again, watching the middle gem change to purple under the harsh light of the room.

“Moonstone. And I forget the name of bigger one, but it’s pretty…right?”

Every angle gives you a new color; blue, purple, and even a hint of green. The June birthstone is one thing, and it was a safe choice—it was also a good choice, but it changing between yours and his favorite color is another; it feels like it was made just for you. Seungmin takes the ring back and slides it until it’s snug against his mother’s silver wedding band. “It’s perfect. You are very good at this.”

“At what?”

“All the little things you do for me. And the things you say.”

His fingers tap nervously on the bed. “I mean everything, all of it. Everything I say and do.”

“I know, Minnie. You’re a natural.”

He smiles, but not before trying to hold it back. “As soon as you’re able to come home, we’ll make it official.”

Three days in this bed has been more than enough, and you’ve been waiting not so patiently to be discharged. Going home without the boys will be difficult, though. “They said today, probably.”

“Heecheol said they could be here the rest of the time you should have been pregnant. Is that true…they’ll be here for months?”

Before you can answer, the nurse knocks softly and lets herself in. In her hands is a clipboard full of the discharge papers you’ve been waiting all morning to sign.

“How long will they have to stay here?” Seungmin asks, and his concern seems to be coming from the fact that you’re going home. You assume he felt content knowing you were always close by, even if he missed you, but that won’t be the case soon.

She smiles sweetly at him, obviously honing in on his anxiety. This is the same nurse that made you feel better about being here, and about how well the twins were being cared for. “It’s always hard to say for certain. They came very early, but they’re both healthy, so our main concern for them is weight gain.”

“We can visit them every day, Minnie”

“You can.” The nurse looks in at them sleeping comfortably. In each of their mouths is a pacifier, and both of them seem to already mastered their sucking reflex. “It’s very important you see them as often as possible. They could be home as early as six or seven weeks from now if we can hit our goal weight…two kilograms at the very least would be ideal.”

“See? Your boys are healthy and strong, and we’ll have them home with us soon.”

The apartment feels different, even though it’s only been a few days. It’s not just the sight of a nearly finished nursery (the twin bed is gone, in the apartment next door, you assume), and it’s not the cots pushed neatly against the bedroom wall. The difference is coming from inside of you, and from the missing pieces that you couldn’t bring home. You never imagined missing the comfort and discomfort of them being safe inside of your stomach, but you do. And now it’s just…you. Your hand moves from your chest, still sore for the exertion, down the still noticeable bump. Everything is sore. Between the labor, and the uncomfortable bed, you can’t remember the last time your body held onto so much pain.

“Do you feel okay?” Seungmin sneaks up to place a kiss on your shoulder, and his hand lands next to yours.

He knows you’re not, and he only asks to lead into the next question. “I’m good.” You’re not exactly hiding it very well, and Seungmin saw every moment of pain as you pushed. “Just sore.”

“I can help you shower. Or if you just want to get into bed, I put clean sheets on. There’s a heating pad in there, and the air conditioner if you get too warm.” You turn and face him, and he smiles. “Or…early dinner. I prepped stuff for galbijjim.”

“Can I have all three?”

***

“So, he left without asking any questions?”

“Questions? Oh, Heecheol. No, he didn’t bring anything up except what you asked him.”

“Me? What did I…” What did you ask him? Everything from before all the pain is a blur. “I can’t remember.”

“You asked him if I wandered into the woods when we were kids. And the answer is no.”

Theres nothing stern or harsh about his voice, but you feel it in your gut regardless. Tears start welling in your eyes, but you manage to keep them at bay. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been worried. I wasn’t trying to go behind your back for answers.”

“Oh I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not angry, love, I promise.”

“I thought he might remember something you couldn’t, that’s all.”

Seungmin pulls you to your feet, but you’re suddenly feeling self conscious about dropping your robe. “I know. He hasn’t seen the things that I have, fortunately.” His hands tuck beneath the tie, and you grab them before he pulls it loose—the response is a confused look, a lick of his lips, and an arm around your waist. “No?”

“I do, I’m just not used to this body. And it’s been a while since we’ve had sex, or touched…or anything.” A few weeks, but it feels so much longer.

“Not because I didn’t want to.” Both of his arms slide around you and rub the sore muscles. “I’ve been afraid of doing something to hurt you, or them.”

“What happened that night, Seungmin? Why did you kill? Was it just a kill?”

The questions take a moment to sink in—not just remembering what exactly happened that night, but what you’re asking him, too. It was just a kill, he thinks…that he can remember. So much of it disappeared the moment you called him. “Yes, I think so; I used my knife, slit his throat, made a fucking mess. Luckily not so much that I couldn’t keep Heecheol in the dark if he looked for me in the bedroom.”

“His throat. It was a man?”

His hold on you tightens. “Yeah, I remember that much. It didn’t help anything, though. I can already feel it coming back.” The feeling, the itch—it starts moving in on him even more as he stands here with you. He held it back with the help of you and the babies, but now he can’t deny what the quiet is bringing. Maybe he can hold it off a little bit longer. “He was expecting sex, but nothing happened this time.”

“You’ve been so stressed, that has to be part of it. But we can relax a little now. They’re okay, and they’re safe.”

“And so are you. I can sit out here while you go in, if you want. But I’m not leaving you alone.”

Your hormones are going crazy. One moment, you feel ecstatic at the thought of seeing and holding them again, and the next you come crashing down because everything feels out of your control. You’ve gone through your entire adult life in the same body—one that Seungmin seemed to enjoy—and now you feel like somebody else. What hasn’t changed is the way he looks at you.

“I got you some new shampoo and body wash to try. It’s supposed to be good for after, so…”

“You did?” The overwhelming urge to cry returns, but the tears are different this time. You let them come and it scares him for a moment. “Thank you.”

“Why are you crying, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing's wrong,” you wipe at your cheeks and blink away the tears. “I’m just…uhm, everything feels so intense. Sorry, I’m alright. And I’m hungry, I guess."

“Oh, I think I understand. Are you feeling down?”

The tie is pulled loose, and the robe slides down your shoulders. “I was, but I'm okay.”

Seungmin’s eyes follow as it falls, but he catches himself and lowers his gaze as you walk by. You don’t look much different to him, but still, he finds you more attractive now than he ever has. It’s not how you’ve filled out, and it’s not the roundness of your face, or the blush across your cheeks…it’s just another version of what you were before—the one who loves him and his children. He told you months ago he would kill anyone who touched you, and that hasn’t changed, Seungmin feels that more intensely now than he ever has. He knows you feel it, too.

Eighteen days of care in the hospital is showing on the twins. Holding them is different already, and they feel less and less like butterflies with each visit. Seungmin sets his fingertips on Haesung’s back, and the rise and fall of his breathing calms the thoughts that continue to break through. The noises are quieter when he holds them.

“Have they put on weight this week?” You ask the nurse. “Are they doing okay?”

“According to their chart, Baby Haesung has gained a total of 500 grams since June 1st. Haneul has gained 492 grams. Another good week.”

“So they’re doing well?”

“Very well.”

Every morning, the two of you spend three, sometimes four hours here, holding them and talking to them. Every evening, you return for at least an hour for more skin to skin, and sometimes a song. Leaving is difficult. The two of you are here the most of any of our parents. Please remember to take care of yourselves and get plenty of rest. The nurse was looking at you when she said that yesterday. You have been sleeping well, though, and you were finally able to produce your own milk for the first time last week. Maybe that will bring them home even sooner.

Seungmin does the math on the walk home. “They might be there another two or three weeks before they reach two kilograms.”

“Maybe. But I’ll make sure I’m eating well and pumping enough for both of them every day.”

“Sounds exhausting…I’m sure it is.”

“According to my nurse, I should be eating an extra thousand calories a day to keep up.”

He stops and looks around, and then back at you. “A thousand? We should grab something extra for lunch then.”

There’s a little bit of guilt in him as he jogs down the steps and away from his mother, but not enough to stop him. And he’s not a complete liar, because he is going to work today…just not for another few hours. The trip to Seoul is a few weeks behind him, and it’s only plagued his mind more with each passing day. Now he’s finally doing what he thinks might help him sleep more soundly at night. Even the act of texting Seungmin seems forced, and he hates that, because Heecheol knows that deep down inside he feels the same about Seungmin as he did right before everything happened…and two months ago, when he laid eyes on him again after so many years. His friend grew into something he didn’t expect. From awkward and small; terrible eyesight; quiet and timid until he was on the pitcher’s mound, to what he is now. Seungmin is something else entirely—quiet, but charming and handsome. He carries himself well, whether he’s aware of it or not. The biggest difference, though, is that he’s now capable of the same violence that lived inside of his step father.

Still, as conflicted as he is about what he witnessed (it’s still sitting in a weird place in his head, like it hasn’t truly settled in yet...as if he dreamed the whole thing), part of him wonders what could have been, had the two of them found each other before you crossed his path. Even if Seungmin had no romantic feelings for Heecheol, it still could have been just the two of them…and god, how how badly he wants that. It’s painful to think about.

The bus takes him past the hospital and continues north for another few miles before the scenery starts to become familiar. Not a good familiar. He wasn’t sure how he’d feel once he got this close, but now it’s here—a cold, heavy rock sitting in the pit of his stomach. But visions of his childhood come through much clearer now. Warm summer nights in the greenhouse, looking at the stars; staying up too late and laughing too loudly, risking the wrath of his step father; testing their courage by seeing who could stand at the edge of the woods the longest, backs to the trees. Seungmin somehow won every time.

The bus driver eyes him curiously as he exits, and the loneliness sinks in as he drives off. It’s already unnaturally quiet, and he hasn’t even reached the edge of the forest yet. Now he has to walk two miles through it, and he’s beginning to have second thoughts.

The backyard looks the same. The greenhouse, the hanok…everything is exactly as he remembers it. It was summer when he left all those years ago, so even the wildflowers are nearly identical; the chipped paint, overgrown grass, and rotting wood is the only giveaway that so much time has passed. Heecheol half expects them—Seungmin and him—to come ripping around a corner laughing. But it’s quiet. More quiet than he remembers it ever being.

The first place he heads for is the greenhouse.

Inside, everything is in full bloom, and it’s more crowded with flowers than he’s ever seen it. He doesn’t know the names of them like Seungmin and his umma did, but he recalls seeing the purple ones (dried up and withering away) in Seungmin’s bedroom.

He walks up the messy path past the shed, and when he gets to the front door of the house, he’s not surprised to find it locked. As abandoned as it seems to be on the outside, the inside must be relatively well-kept if the two of you were staying here. Breaking in crosses his mind, and why not? Would one little broken pane of glass seem suspicious? It doesn’t take much to convince himself. Heecheol finds a rock, then changes his mind and looks around for something with a little more weight. A dragon statue catches his eye, and he remembers Seungmin finding and spending all of his allowance on it for his umma. He had to, he said, because they were both dragons, so technically it was for both of them. Heecheol picks it up, and the corner is sent into the bottom right panel of the window. It takes two tries, but he succeeds, and finding the latch and opening it is too easy. Climbing through the small window is a little more difficult at six feet tall, but he manages it gracefully.

He was right. The inside looks dated, but lived in. The first aid kit sits on the kitchen table, and blood seeping from that self-inflicted (he has to assume) wound runs through his head. Heecheol isn’t sure why he’s here, or what he’s looking for, but he wanders through each room anyway. Maybe he’s hoping he’ll learn more about his friend just by being in this space and breathing this air again. He needs to know what turned him into a killer.

***

Both of you slept in this morning, and after your two bowls of bibimbap are finished, (Seungmin tried to push a third on you) it’s finally time to see the six week old twins. The last two weeks were better than the others, so you’re hoping to hear at least one of them has finally reached the two kilogram mark.

You watch carefully as the nurse fills a bottle with your breastmilk, and she hands it to Seungmin. “Haneul has one more test to pass. Dad will feed Haesung, since the two of you have been successful…” She waits as Seungmin reaches in for him, and by now, he scoops him up easily and confidently before taking the bottle. “And we’ll see how well big brother latches onto mom.”

They took to pacifiers and bottles quickly, but actually feeding from you has been a challenge, and you can’t figure out why. You cradle Haneul and sit, and when he opens his eyes, his recognition of you feels stronger than it ever has. Daengmo made the trip with you this time—a desperate attempt, but the dog feels a little otherworldly sometimes.

“Go ahead and try…just like you have been.” The nurse tells you. She hasn’t lost any faith in your ability to do this with him, but she must sense your nerves.

“Okay, sweetheart...” you adjust yourself and bring him closer. “Just like we talked about, right?” This time you relax, because every other time, your overthinking didn’t help at all. Seungmin watches quietly, and the sounds of Haesung feeding relax you even more. “Oh, I think he did it.” His fists clench, and as soon as his fingers find Daengmo’s soft ear, they open and close around it.

“Yeah, he did.” Seungmin whispers. “You two ready to go home?” He looks down at Haesung happily eating, and he stares right back up with wide open eyes. Seungmin gently pulls back on the bottle until it’s free. “I’m sorry buddy, you need to catch your breath.” He swallows and sighs, and when it seems like he takes in enough air, he starts to fuss.

***

The sun is low in the sky when he gets to Seungmin’s bedroom. He didn’t expect to stay so long, but it was easy getting lost in the things that were left behind. In here, it’s easy to see how abruptly things stopped that night. It doesn’t seem like Seungmin has taken much, or even moved things since he left for his grandmothers house. Heecheol needs to keep things as neat as possible, or he’ll know someone was going through his room.

But he quickly realizes that nothing in here will give him any answers. Everything about this space is him before all of the bad things happened. Enough time has been wasted, and he needs to walk through the woods again to get out of here—he has no intention of doing that after sunset. Heecheol cleans up the mess of glass and pulls the curtain tight, and he looks back at the house one more time as he heads down the pathway. He ignored it the first time, but as he walks past the shed, he stops. What could be in there except for the memories of stories he was told about the long, cold nights locked inside? It makes him nauseous just thinking about the mental anguish Seungmin endured in there. Just him, the cold silence, and the smell of—

“What is that?” He says to himself and looks around. It’s just him here, he knows that, so why is he suddenly catching the familiar scent of a fresh cigarette? The smell turns his stomach even more, but it must be in his head. “Is someone here?” His heart pounds as he waits for an answer from nobody. Silence. Just the wind, and the slow creak of the shed door. “Fuck, I need to get out of here.” He tries. Heecheol’s next step lands wrong, and he barely catches himself as he falls forward into the patchy grass. His wrists give out, and he ends up flat on the ground—uninjured, at least. But he can’t even laugh at his clumsiness. Heecheol jumps up and looks around again, still expecting to see someone. Or something. The smell seems to have disappeared, so he shakes it off—he shakes everything off and starts his walk toward the pine trees.

With any luck, he’ll make it out before dusk hits and darkness takes over, but he’ll have to walk fast.

“There’s nothing in there. We were stupid kids just making stuff up and seeing things that weren’t there, and Seungmin is fucking schizophrenic…of course he saw things.” Telling himself that does nothing to quell his nerves, and he feels a pang of guilt for what he says about his friend. Seungmin was tortured and ridiculed for seven years, and the same hands that did it took his mother. Of course something inside of him needs to take that power back, that control, and kill. Maybe he did find some answers.

The woods seem to take every last sound as he enters, and Heecheol moves quickly down the middle of the narrow dirt road. Two twisty miles. He could cut right through and make it a little more than a mile, but he wouldn’t risk it, not with night so close. The trees are disorienting and everything in here looks the same, so another misstep could be disastrous. Just walk, don’t listen, don’t look around.

***

Seungmin can’t take his eyes off of them as they cling together at his bedside. You told him they had to sleep in their own cots, but keeping them together was fine as long as one of you were awake to watch them. And that’s what he does—he watches, and he still can’t believe how natural it is for them to hold each other the way they do. They are the same now; almost the same size, same dark eyes, same head full of hair just like he had as a baby. The nose, the ears…his ears. Truly identical.

“Hey…” Seungmin looks behind him where you’re starting to doze off on your side of the bed.

“Yeah?”

“What if I mix them up?” He’s serious. You’ve never seen him look so serious. “Is that possible?”

“Do you know who is who right now?”

He stands and looks down at them. “Uhm…yes. This is Haneul,” Seungmin adjusts the mitten on his left hand, “and this is Haesung.”

“Mhm. How can you tell?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe I just know?” He looks to you for more reassurance, and you crawl across the bed to give it to him.

Your first few weeks home after giving birth were difficult, and Seungmin knew to give you all the space you needed, for as long as necessary. Eventually, you felt yourself returning to the way you were before you found out you were pregnant, and before you thought he was growing less attracted to you. You couldn’t have been more wrong about that, but the two of you are still working on getting back to the way things were.

A shiver runs through him when you squeeze his shoulders. “And if it helps, Haneul has a little mole…” you place a kiss on top of Seungmin’s left ear, “right there. Haesung doesn’t.”

“It does.” He turns and gives you a look—a look that says please kiss me, touch me. Anything. All he’s gotten in weeks is a sleepy handjob. He’s been so patient.

“Lay down with me.” You pull him until he follows you under the blanket. “You’re gonna kiss me until my alarm goes off. We have eight minutes.”

***

The sun is setting a lot faster than it should be. Either that, or he’s walking slower than he realizes. It’s not like this isn’t familiar. As monotonous as the walk through these trees tends to be, he remembers landmarks, and most of those landmarks are still here. But still, he’s losing light, and the end of the road is nowhere in sight. Heecheol checks the time—6:55. The tops of the trees swallow up the sun, and whatever signal he had back at the house. Some sound returns, though...a rustle of dry leaves, as if an animal is scittering through them; a very distant bird song.

Almost there, he says, almost…can’t be more than a kilometer left, right? He should have checked his steps before he started. Maybe he should have just stayed home, or went in to work early for the night. And suddenly, as if the forest can feel his nerves starting to boil over, just like the smell of cigarette smoke hit him by the shed, another familiar scent starts to fill his nose. He wants the smoke back. He would trade this for any other smell. It has to be in his head, though—it has to be his fear going into overdrive and making him think he’s smelling the rotting corpse of a deer. Maybe that’s what it is. There aren’t many, but he’s seen deer running from these woods and through the yard plenty of times. It only makes sense that one would wind up dead not far from the road at some point.

Cheoli?

He cups his ears and closes his eyes. How stupid of him to come here alone. Alone! Walking through this horrible fucking forest by himself so late in the day. And for what? He found nothing useful here.

Heecheol. Is that better?

Why does it sound so sweet and light and feminine?

“Stop, please. I just want to leave.”

Maybe you’re still accustomed to Hale

The voice sounds like you. It sounds shaken and full of curiosity, just like you did when you asked about this place. It even has your accent down. Why is he hearing your voice in his head?

I’m not in your head

“Yes you are.” Heecheol walks faster and starts humming loudly to himself. If someone were to stumble across him, they would assume he was out of his mind. He feels out of his mind.

okay, I am…but I’m also right here

The forest floor hurts much more when he hits it, and this time, there’s no catching himself. He tastes blood on his lips, and a moment later, the unbearable throb of his wrist hits. If it wasn’t a twig he landed on, it was definitely his bone snapping. Where? He blinks the dirt from his eyes and looks around, but there’s nothing. And then there is something…the sound of footsteps. Heecheol scrambles to his feet, injured arm tucked against his chest, and stumbles as he tries to find some balance. He fails and lands hard on his side, and everything in front of him goes fuzzy and dull, like an old vhs recording. It doesn’t go away when he shakes his head.

stop moving so much

The voice changes. It’s stuck somewhere between yours, and the raspy smokers voice of Seungmin’s step father. It’s a horrible sound and it makes his wince.

that’s better, let me look at you

It slowly loses the sweetness of yours, and now it’s somewhere between his and something inhuman. “Where are you?”

you remind me of him

“Who?” He needs to stop talking to it.

but you’re weaker than him

Seungmin? Is the voice talking about Seungmin? He doesn’t ask. Heecheol keeps his mouth shut, but his mind is racing. If the static in his vision would go away, he could get up and run, but it’s getting worse. The only thing he can think to do is reach for his phone, and when he finds it, he pulls up anything he can. He can’t see, and only one hand is functioning properly, but whatever he does works. A ring. So he has a signal now. Two, three rings…four.

“Hello? Cheoli?”

“Seungmin, can you hear me?”

“Yeah…the connections bad, but…are you okay?”

“N-no. I don’t know.”

“No? It’s getting worse, I’m losing you.”

The call drops. He’s alone again.

***

Seungmin’s furrowed brow would be cute if he didn’t look so serious. It’s not just confusion on his face, it’s worry. A lot of it. You heard his phone ring, but everything else was lost in your post-nap fog. “What’s wrong?” He doesn’t answer right away, so you turn and check the cot on your side. Haneul is still sound asleep after his first time eating at home. Next you crawl over Seungmin, still quiet and staring at his phone, and check on Haesung. He’s just coming out of his nap, and a soft cry is starting. Before he can get too far, you reach in and run your thumb across is slowly fattening cheek.

“Uhm…not sure.” Seungmin tries calling one more time, and when it doesn’t connect, he starts typing. “It was Heecheol, but he sounded weird. The call dropped and I can’t get him now.”

“Do you have his mother’s number?”

He shakes his head and drops the phone in defeat, but he’ll worry until he hears back. “Hopefully the text gets through.”

“What did he say?”

“I asked if he was okay…he said I don’t know.”

“It’s hard not to worry, but I’m sure you’ll hear back soon.”

Seungmin needs and appreciates your positivity, but everything about the short phone call, even the static as it struggled to connect, felt strange. He checks the message he sent, but it’s just an error message now. Not delivered. “Yeah. I’ll try to keep my mind off of it.” Haesung is starting to cry a little louder now, so Seungmin pockets his phone. “Are you hungry again, buddy? Maybe you need changed.” He looks to you, because he’s only had the chance to do that a few times during hospital visits.

Every new experience with them is exciting for him, no matter what it is, even a diaper change. He insists you just watch while he works on Haesung, who’s still softly crying from whatever is bothering him. And as sweet as Seungmin finds the sound, at least for now, he hates not knowing exactly what’s wrong.

Before he can unsnap his onesie, his phone vibrates in his pocket.

“Heecheol?”

The static is loud enough to hear from a few feet away, and you don’t hear a voice behind it.

“Cheoli, I don’t know if you can hear me…I can’t hear you.” Seungmin’s voice is strained, as if he’s holding back the urge to scream into the phone. “I can’t hear you.” He stays on the line for a few more seconds before giving up and ending the call.

What can you say to him to put his mind at ease? This isn’t how you want his first day at home with the twins to be—plagued by worry and helplessness. You know he would benefit from a Xanax if you can convince him to take one. “Let’s get them changed and I’ll make you some tea. And maybe you should take something.”

“Take something?” Haesung squirms and kicks when Seungmin sets his palm on his stomach. “Oh, right…maybe. Tea would be good.” He looks at you every few seconds as he works, but you don’t know if it’s nerves about the job he’s doing, or if he’s trying to read something else on your face.

“I want you to enjoy your first day here with them, and I know that’s gonna be hard now, but they want all of you.”

Seungmin looks at Haneul, comfortable in your arms, and then back to his hands as they finish fastening the new diaper. The sound Haesung makes as he kisses his forehead finally gets a smile out of him.

The worst headache he’s ever had in his life pulses behind his eyes, and the tiny line of sunlight coming in is excruciating. He can’t move. He doesn’t want to move, but he needs water and pain killers. Heecheol knows only one thing, and that’s that he is currently lying in his own bed. He doesn’t even know what day it is, or how he got here, because the last thing he does remember is falling in the woods and…his wrist. The pain in his head is masking the pain of his fractured, swollen wrist until he moves it. “Fuck. Umma!”

A few seconds later, the soft sound of her slippered feet hit the hardwood floor. “I’m coming Cheoli. You must have had a rough night, there’s fresh coffee out here for you.”

“Umma, please bring me some water and Tylenol. And ibuprofen. Please, I’m sorry.” Asking his sick mother to fetch him things is his new low. Past Heecheol would roll his eyes at him. She doesn’t mind, though. She’s back a minute later with a bottle and a handful of pills.

“That bad? Oh, Cheoli, your wrist!”

He looks at it again and realizes just how bad it looks. It’s nearly twice the size of his right one. “Yeah, I know. I’m fine, umma, I just need to get this headache under control and I’ll get to the hospital.”

“Weren’t you just there a few hours ago?”

“What time did I get home?”

She sits on the edge of the bed and thinks. “Oh, it must have been around 6 am, when I took my medicine.”

“I got home at 6am?” He throws four pills in his mouth and downs the entire bottle as she nods at him.

So he can’t remember anything between 7 pm yesterday and waking up at noon. That’s a lot of missing time. His phone doesn’t give him much, but he does see several calls between him and Seungmin. One he made that lasted about eight seconds, and then two from Seungmin that he definitely doesn’t remember getting. There’s also an unread text message that delivered around the same time he got himself home.

Hey, my calls aren’t getting through. What’s going on, are you okay? This might not get through, either. Please call me when you can.

The signal isn’t strong in the outer parts of Uljin, so the bad connection isn’t surprising. He just can’t remember a single fucking thing after that fall…and now the eight second phone call. Heecheol decides he’ll call Seungmin, but not until after some x-rays and a splint.

***

“It’s just a sprain, surprisingly.” The doctor squints at the x-ray, but she doesn’t have to explain it further for him. He’s seen plenty of broken wrists on this light box. “I was sure with that swelling it was going to be much worse, but that’s because you let it go for so long.”

“Yeah, I had a weird night.”

“I’ll stabilize it for you, but you know we can’t do much else. Keep up with the Tylenol, and expect light duty for a while. Or just use some of your time off for a change.”

Time off. Right, he does have some saved up, but using it while he’s injured seems silly. He keeps telling himself he can use that time for an actual vacation, but he never plans anything, and he rarely leaves home. But another trip to Seoul is always a possibility. No…I can’t do that again. What if I see more of something I don’t wanna see? Maybe he should see more, because Heecheol still feels like he dreamed the whole thing.

The phone rings a few times, and eventually, he gets the generic voicemail message. He doesn’t leave one.

Hey, I’m sorry if I made you worry. Hope you’re well. How are the twins?

Seungmin calls as soon as the text delivers.

Cheoli! You’re alright? What the hell was going on last night?

He hears him, but it’s through that same static. A little bit more of last night returns to him.

Cheoli, say something

Sorry, hey. His head starts to throb again. “I’m good, everything is okay. I had a little too much to drink last night, and it’s finally starting to wear off.” There is a small chance he’ll actually believe that.

“I was wondering if you were ever gonna get in touch again, considering what happened last time”

Oh god, he knows. No, you idiot. The babies. “How are they?”

We brought them home yesterday! They both reached their goal weight and passed all the tests.” His voice quiets. “It’s scary, though. They’re still so small and fragile.

They’ll grow fast, and I’m sure they’ll seem fragile to you for a long time. But I don’t wanna keep you. Go be with them, and maybe we can just forget about the weird drunk call.

Already forgotten

The static in his head dissipates along with the call.

***

The buzz of his phone wakes him immediately, probably because he’s quickly become accustomed to jumping at the smallest sound, but he ignores it until he looks in on both of them. Haneul is on his side of the bed tonight, sound asleep—you’re finally in a deep sleep, too, so he’s careful about leaning over and looking into the cot on your side.

Seungmin is the only one awake, and his text message is, not surprisingly, from Heecheol. He must be at work, and bored, to be texting at 5:30 in the morning.

I’ll be in Seoul tomorrow! Maybe tonight. I won’t impose on you, I can get a hotel. Just wanted to let you know.

He doesn’t say why he’ll be here, but it doesn’t matter. Seungmin doesn’t mind his friend visiting, especially since he clearly didn’t witness anything too damning last time. He doesn’t act like he did, at least. Good enough for him; maybe not good enough for you.

“Why are you up, Minnie?” You mumble into your pillow.

Seungmin smiles and brushes the hair away from your face. “Just checking on them.”

It’s almost time for your alarm to go off anyway, so you sit up and start the process of waking yourself up.

“Did you get enough sleep? I can bottle feed both of them if you’re too tired.” He gives you his best puppy eyes, because he genuinely means it. Tired or not, Seungmin always tries to get you back into bed, and he has yet to say no to a feeding or a diaper change.

“I could never do this without you.” His eyes drop to your chest when you lay back again, and they stay there as you adjust and feel yourself to gauge the tenderness. He moves your way, shifting over until he’s snug against your side, and he very carefully wraps his arm around you. “I’m starting to think you were made for this whole parenting thing.”

That feeling of inadequacy keeps fading for you as the days pass with them, but it’s nonexistent in Seungmin’s mind. There never seemed to be any doubt in him about your ability to be a mother, and if he ever doubted himself, he hid it well.

He squeezes tighter and smiles, but his eyes don’t leave your breasts. “You think so?”

“Mhm. And I always took you for a thighs and ass guy, but maybe that’s because these weren’t there.”

A warm hand moves beneath the blanket, down your hip, and then slowly back up to your side. “No, I like your…everything. I always have.” But his need to touch the soft skin spilling out of your sports bra overtakes him, and he kisses and bites until you start to laugh. “Everything.”

“No favorite parts?”

“Favorite, hmmm…” He leans back a little and looks you over, and now you’re feeling shy under his intense gaze. “Yes.”

Seungmin’s smile makes your stomach flip, and you’re struck with a strange sadness—a looming feeling that he’s going to be ripped away from you, and you don’t know why, or where it’s coming from. Pregnancy hormones are still running wild through you, and nothing makes much sense right now. Just him, and them, and it’s all so much. You’ve never felt overwhelmed with love for so many things at once.

“This.” The pad of his thumb runs across your temple and tucks a loose piece of hair behind your ear. “Because…it helps keep mine together. I don’t know how you do it.”

“Do I? I don’t…I don’t know either.”

The silence is interrupted by Haesung crying out. It’s the loudest you’ve heard from either of them, and it sends a wave of panic through you. He swings his fists through the air and toward his face until you carefully lift him and hold him against your chest. “He’s warm.” You carefully remove the mittens from his hands. “How does Haneul feel?”

Seungmin reaches in and touches his forehead, his chest, and his legs. “Seems okay.” His eyes pop open and his fingers go right to his mouth. “Just hungry, I think.”

You stand with him and head toward the kitchen, hoping the motion will calm Haesung and quiet his cries. It may just be hunger, but it doesn’t sound like a hungry cry. You don’t get far. “Seungmin!” It slips out. Shouting is the last thing you want to do, but you can’t help it. The noise brings out another cry.

“What’s wrong?”

“There…right there, don’t you see it?” It’s been so long, you almost forgot about them. “It’s sitting there, by the stool.”

He looks, but there’s no reaction or jump or surprised gasp. “I don’t see anything. Let me get the light.”

“The dog. It’s the white dog. It’s staring right at me.”

Clearly he sees nothing, because you watch as he walks right by the two blue eyes to switch on the kitchen light. It’s there, tall and still, head down and eyes pointed at you, and then at Seungmin as he makes his way back to you.

“Close your eyes.” He blocks your view and sets a hand on Haesung, who’s tiny back is still heaving from his steady crying. “It’ll be gone when we look again.”

Maybe, if you count backwards from ten. Nine…eight…seven…your eyes pop open when Haesung starts to calm down. His face finally relaxes, and when he looks at you, the feeling of dread seems to pass. “Did you feel it , sweetheart? Is it gone?” You peek around Seungmin’s shoulder and look. It is gone.

The rest of the morning, Seungmin seems to look around hesitantly when one of the boys cry, and his eyes linger in every dark corner as he walks around the apartment. After mentioning it and pulling out the black wallet from the cafe several times, you manage to convince him you’ll be fine by yourself for an hour or two. Still, he’s reluctant to leave after the dog sighting.

“I was hopeful for a while that it was just…nothing. Stress. And then I wondered if they were pregnancy dreams.” Even though you were both having them. The shared delusions don’t really faze you much anymore. “Now they feel like bad omens.”

“Omens of what?”

“I dunno. But if you’re feeling itchy, go, I want you to. But please be careful.”

Seungmin goes, but he regrets it as soon as he hits the sidewalk and starts his trip south. The only thing on his mind is the three of you, all alone for the first time since coming home a few weeks ago. And even though they’re almost always quiet and happy (he was starting to wonder why babies are so stressful for some parents, but he’s guessing you and him have been lucky so far), and even with two of them, easy enough for one of you to handle solo for a few hours.

Still, he feels guilty. He tries to shake it off and focus on the task at hand—casing the creep that harassed you last month. Seungmin hasn’t forgotten, and he’s no less angry than he was the moment he witnessed him mouthing off and grabbing you. He still sees your distressed face, so close to tears—breaking his nose wasn’t enough, he’s looking forward to this one.

But he’s just gathering information today. Seungmin doesn’t want this guy anywhere near the apartment, even if he isn’t getting out alive.

He finds a bench across the street from the address on his business card—a life insurance salesman. Seungmin still finds it funny all these weeks later, but 5 pm comes and goes, and he starts getting antsy. A late worker, of course. Or maybe he just has a family he doesn’t want to go home to. Seungmin is hoping for no family to make his job much simpler. He decides to pull out his phone to give you an update, but there’s already a text waiting for him…

I think they miss you

Oh, are they upset? I can head back, just say the word

no no we’re fine sweetie…just wanted you to know how much we looove you

A warm blush creeps up his neck and face as he types. He knows you don’t want him distracted, just to be extra cautious.

더 사랑해

He catches him in his peripheral vision, taking his time, digging in his bag as he heads for the crosswalk. Seungmin follows. The man seems distracted, so keeping up is no problem, and the streets are just busy enough to keep him hidden. The walk isn’t going to be far, though. The address on his license is only a few blocks away, but Seungmin starts to feel uneasy halfway into the tail, and he can’t figure out why. Maybe it’s just him. Just worry. Stress. Less sleep. Thinking of your last words to him before leaving gives him the extra push he needs.

Go, you’ll feel better when it’s done. And I’ll feel better when I get to hear all the details.

You haven’t been shy about asking for details lately. Seungmin has told you stories about almost all of his kills now, most of them in the last two weeks. Yesterday you asked, very sweetly, for him to wrap his hands around your neck and squeeze just a little. He resisted for a while, but giving in was inevitable. You felt far too fragile beneath his touch, and he didn’t ask if you got flashbacks the way he did as his thumbs caressed your throat. Flashbacks, and all of his blood rushing to his cock as you pulled and scratched to get him closer. Seungmin was relieved that you initiated. He was afraid to admit how badly he needed you if you weren’t ready yet, but you needed him just as much.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, but he ignores it. No more distractions. The man takes a left, and he’s gone, but not for long—the building he disappears into is the one.

“Seungmin!”

Not him. Some other Seungmin. There must be at least one other Seungmin on this street right now. Focus.

“Mo!”

There’s only one Seungmo. Despite his racing heart—racing from the chase, and now racing double because Heecheol is in the city already, in this district, on this street. How is that possible? The sound of his friend’s soft voice is good to hear, though, he’ll admit. Maybe today wasn’t the day. Seungmin turns to look, but it takes a moment to find Heecheol’s face in the crowd. “Cheoli?” But even after the crowd dissipates, there’s no sign of him. Heecheol isn’t here, and he’s not on the other side of the street, either. “Heecheol?” The buzz in his pocket brings him back, barely, but the text message does the rest of the work.

This is where I’m staying. Just got here, earlier than I was expecting. Hope to see you!

The newest message is a room number.

Heecheol is miles away, so why did he hear his voice so clearly?

“Hi”

“Hi, you okay?”

“Mm, yeah, but I think today might be a bust. I’m gonna head home.”

It’s not a complete lie—he would never lie to you, but before Seungmin starts home, he decides to take a short detour. A quick subway ride to Heecheol’s hotel, and he’ll pick up dinner on the way back. It works out, because he very obviously chose somewhere as close as possible to the apartment. He wonders if he should let him know he’s on the way, or if the surprise visit would be nice. He did say hope to see you, and he sent his room number, as well. Sounds like an invitation.

A pang of guilt hits him on the way up the elevator. His mind remains on you, of course, and how you’re doing at home all by yourself. But he knows you’re fine, because you’d call or text if you needed him immediately. Seungmin won’t be long here, and he’ll pick up all of your favorites on the way home.

He knocks, and he listens to the soft sounds on the other side of the door. Footsteps, maybe a look through the peephole, the click of the locks. The door swings open, and he sees him. Just sees him. It’s his friend, he knows, but the static filling up his head makes his knees buckle and his eyes water. Seungmin doesn’t think he’s ever fainted in his life, but this must be what it feels like.

“Mo…hey, you good?”

Hands grip his shoulders and shake him a little, and he comes to. It’s no longer pitch black, but his vision is fuzzy, and the static turns to a low hum that slowly quiets as Heecheol comes into view.

“Seungmin, say something.”

“H-hey, Cheoli.” He stumbles in with the help of Heecheol steadying him, and suddenly, he’s fine. Like nothing happened. “Uhm, yeah I’m good. Sorry.”

“If you say so. You look good.” He closes the door, and sweeps his arm across Seungmin’s shoulders as he faces him again. “You must have been doing something important.”

“Important?”

Heecheol lifts Seungmin’s hand and examines the rings on his fingers. Seungmin lets him—he’s still trying to get his brain to catch up. “Yeah. Are these really Loewe?”

“Yeah, sorry…I don’t wear them much.”

“Sorry?”

He spins them nervously, “they’re flashy, I don’t like being flashy,” and finally looks at his friend. His hair is messy and damp from the shower, and he looks comfortable in his sweatpants and t-shirt. “I should have told you I was coming.” There’s a black splint on one wrist. “What ha—“

“No, you didn’t have to. Surprise is nicer.”

The hum returns. It feels like his brain is bouncing off the sides of his skull. If only Heecheol would reach out and squeeze it like a vice—that might make it better. “Cheoli.” He breaths. The faint feeling is coming back, and he isn’t sure he can stop it. Seungmin reaches for him, and his forearm is grasped tight by Heecheol’s good hand.

“Seungmin.” He replies matter-of-factly, face blank, but his tongue darts out to lick his lips. “Come here.”

“Okay…” he takes a step closer, and Heecheol pulls him until they’re almost nose to nose. But he doesn’t step back. He does nothing but examine his face; his sharp eyes, his parted lips. “O-okay.”

It’s not really a shock when their lips press together. No, not at all, because you’ve already told him this—that his best friend is in love with him. You told him it’s okay, it isn’t strange or uncomfortable for you. It’s understandable, you said, who wouldn’t fall in love with you? Seungmin laughed when you said that. There’s a laugh rising his chest right now, but he keeps it down as Heecheol pulls away to get a better grip on his mouth.

Seungmin wonders if you knew this would happen, and if this is okay. The guilt he felt about not being home with you doubles…triples as he opens his mouth to let Heecheol’s tongue in. It stopped though, the humming, that horrible feeling in his brain. All that’s left is a shiver running up his thighs, and the undeniable throbbing between them.

His phone vibrates in his pocket, but he ignores it.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 103 (Lavender is Adorable & Malcolm Follows a Lead)

Finally back home after the end of Winterfest break, Conrad caught Heather looking at her ring with a grin while she cleaned up the kitchen. "Did you think you want to set a date yet?" he asked.

She grinned, practically giddy against his charming smile. "Still no."

He laughed, heading into the living room to play with Lavender, where she sucked her slippered toe and chewed her toys. She'd sat up on her own on Boxing Day morning, but she was still more comfortable getting a bird's eye view of the world. Conrad and Heather didn't want to push her; she'd pull herself up with regularity when she had places she wanted to get to.

Heather got dressed and returned from the bedroom to find Conrad chatting with Lavender on the sofa. "It's so much fun to crawl around, sweet girl. You're gonna want to try it soon. I know it."

Heather smiled. "I thought instead of breastfeeding, I could help Lavender explore foods this morning."

Conrad set her up in the high chair as Heather opened a jar of crushed carrots. But Lavender was totally uninterested, batting away the spoon and sticking out her tongue, ejecting the orange mush from her mouth with a grimace.

Heather sighed. "I think we have a picky eater on our hands."

As it turned out, Lavender hated the texture, and sometimes the taste, of most baby foods, so Heather kept breastfeeding. "When she's ready for finger foods, maybe she'll be less picky," suggested Conrad with a hopeful smile.

Lavender's three infant quirks: Loves Wake Up Time, Picky Eater, and the lesser-noted Frequently Hiccups (because it's been mostly inconsequential since Lavender's such a happy baby).

Soon enough, Lavender was upright all the time, and Heather and Conrad chalked it up to her wanting to be tall enough to hang with Gord. The beloved Bernese loved Lavender, often moving in for pets from Lavender's tiny palms. He offered nose rubs in return while the infant giggled wildly.

Conrad, meanwhile, had chased too many leads for Rafa to precisely nowhere, and Ximena had stayed undetected throughout the holidays. As far as Rafa was concerned, he was beginning to fear he was looking for another dead body, but he couldn't let himself rest until he knew for sure.

Trying to relax in the living room with his family, he took a call from Zion Spangler. "George and his wife extended their time in Sulani," reported the young detective. "He won't be coming home for questioning any time soon." Conrad hung up and rubbed his temples in frustration.

Heather frowned in their crowded living room. Ash was practicing a speech for class in the mirror and Lavender was playing with Gord, so she couldn't talk to Conrad about the case. He hadn't shared much, but the police detail lingered outside their home and the clinic, so she knew Ximena was still at large.

She wanted him to be able to find Rafa. She knew how much it meant to him, and how it tore at him not to be any closer to learning what happened. They were both ready to put all of this past them.

In San Myshuno, Malcolm had done some digging into the murder at the docks from his penthouse. Law enforcement wouldn't speak to him about the confidential file, but he'd managed to uncover George Brindleton's shady investment in the company's crooked books, and tracked down the man himself at his tropical villa in Sulani.

"Thank you for talking to me today, Mr. Brindleton. I gather with your secrecy, you don't talk to many reporters."

"This is off the record," grunted George. "I want to get to know you before I tell you anything about my work. You are a Landgraab, after all."

He frowned. "Malcolm's fine."

"I told the detectives I don't know a single damn thing about a murder at the docks. I'm a good businessman and I know where to trim the fat from my investments. Demand. Supply. It's not my fault that for the first time in decades, someone died of anything other than old age or rabies in Brindleton Bay."

"Do they think it was someone from your company?"

"No, they've asked what we know about some cartel called Los Tigres. Hey! Hey Rafael, bring me another soda with extra lime!" He turned his attention back to Malcolm over their video connection with a sneer. "The wait staff at this villa is horrible, but the booze is strong and the sun is hot!"

Malcolm curled his lip at flagrant George Brindleton, taking note of the name of the cartel. "I'm sure the wait staff would be better at a more expensive villa, Mr. Brindleton."

George sneered. "You're a punk reporter, I see. Think you're better than me just because you've got that Landgraab elitism running through your veins?"

Malcolm shrugged. He'd always been a snob, and most people were right when they called him an ass, but he'd found reasons to smile after becoming a father and marrying his wife. He didn't want to spend his night arguing with an angry old man. "It's been a pleasure, Mr. Brindleton. I think I have everything I needed from you, but if you have more to say, by all means, call the news station anytime."

"What does some big city national reporter want with a story about a body in Brindleton Bay, anyway?"

"The story is important, but my son lives in Brindleton Bay. On a personal level, I care that he's safe, and if your company isn't doing their job, I think my mother would love to know there's an open business opportunity at the docks. Demand and supply, and all that."

"You have a son in Brindleton Bay?"

"I do. The local vet is his mother."

George froze as the waiter named Rafael approached with his drink.

"Your son is Heather Nesbitt's son?" He stammered. "Listen, there's no need to start a competing security company in Brindleton Bay...as a matter of fact, I'm gonna tell my guy to go back to the old schedule, effective immediately, so don't even bother."

George ended the video call with a click. The names of Heather's kids had been redacted in the restraining order, but the order had covered the school and the daycare, as well as the house. It's not like he really needed to be able to single them out from any of the other squealing brats in his town - despite his threats outside the courthouse, he preferred to stay away from all of them.

George was more focused on the bigger picture than scaring kids - asserting his importance to the safety of Brindleton Bay served him far better. He'd expected a rise in hooliganism, not a murder, when he pulled his guys from the docks, but the sequence of events had played right into his hands while he sipped cocktails in the sunshine.

He had no reverence for most of the Brindleton Bay Police Force. They'd been in his pocket for decades and they needed him now more than ever. But the Landgraabs were a bigger fish than any he pulled from the Simlandia Sea in his fishing days.

He smiled, taking the drink from Rafael. "Thank you, amigo. Here's a tip to keep 'em coming."

June stood and pleaded with her husband. "Don't drink all morning, George!"

"Don't tell me what to do, June."

Rafa smiled. "Yes, sir. I'll bring round number two before you fall asleep in the lounge chair again for your afternoon nap."

With the Sulani sun beating down on his forehead, George Brindleton considered what he'd learned from Malcolm Landgraab. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

NOTE: Some may recall my side project to flip Malcolm's evil trait to good. That hasn't happened yet but he has added cheerful as a bonus trait - Snob, Evil, Music Lover, and Cheerful is who Malcolm is right now. Good-hearted Miko helping change him is maybe sorta slowly working! He did finish with George and did the evil cackle animation because George was mad and he reveled in it, however...

WCIF Serving Poses: @tenyrasims' Serving With a Smile Posepack and @someone-elsa's cocktails tray accessory (also available at the link). Seriously fantastic, thank you so much for creating and sharing this! it's exactly what I was looking for when I needed to shoot this scene.

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

could u imagine dad willy on his baby’s first christmas

how cute a baby of his would look all bundled up to protect from the cold

dad!william is something i think about far too much and tiny babies at christmastime are my favorite thing!! 🥹 i have a bigger scene of william carrying the baby all bundled up for the accidental pregnancy fic, but have a little blurb of a different nylander baby lol (couldn’t decide if i wanted it to be a boy or a girl so we’re going with super vague references here)

you flutter around william nervously, making sure the baby carrier is strapped tightly and correctly to his chest before he settles the baby inside the sling.

“i’ve got it, älskling,” william murmurs to you, tucking the tiny, sleepy baby close to his chest and making sure the tiny limbs are in the correct position. “bundle yourself up, it’s cold.”

of course it’s cold, it’s the middle of january in toronto, but you need some fresh air and william suggested a family walk with the dogs. you’d readily agreed, getting the baby all ready in the fuzzy little bear-eared snowsuit that had been a “just because” gift from your mother-in-law

you’d send a picture of the baby to her and she’d responded with a string of emojis, all hearts and smiles.

now you adjust the hood on the baby’s head, making sure tiny ears are covered and you can’t help but brush the back of your knuckle against the baby’s soft cheeks, your heart melting that this angel is yours. william cups his hand around the baby’s back and you know he won’t let anything happen. you drape a soft blanket over the carrier too, keeping the baby as protected from the wind as possible.

pablo and banksy trot happily ahead of you on the walk, stopping to sniff at things and wait for you and william to catch up. there are still christmas lights up in the city even though christmas was weeks ago and partway through the walk, the baby yawns awake and cuddles closer to william’s chest, tiny cheeks flushed pink from the cold and william’s body heat. you watch as little eyes blink at the sights, obscured as they are by william’s chest. you peel back the blanket occasionally, checking in on the baby and cooing a little to get gummy smiles in return.

the baby’s tuft of platinum blonde hair pokes out from the hood and you reach into the carrier to smooth it back, static making it stick to your gloves.

william’s hand engulfs yours, swinging slightly between your bodies and he keeps a hand cupped over the baby’s head. he looks so natural with the carrier strapped to his chest, calm and content. your heart flips in your chest and even though the baby’s only a few weeks old, you can’t wait to give your husband another one

“you look good carrying our baby,” you murmur, bumping william’s thigh with your intertwined hands.

“yeah?” william’s blue eyes twinkle. “you looked really good carrying the baby too, all round and soft everywhere. i don’t think i’ve ever seen a hotter pregnant woman.”

you flush with embarrassment and arousal, wrinkling your nose at him. “stop, it was horrible. i was so swollen and ugh.”

“nah, you’re a fucking goddess,” william leans in to kiss you, a little baby squeak coming from the carrier. “see? we both think so.”

a scoff works its way out of your throat. “you just both like the pregnancy slash breastfeeding boobs.”

your husband laughs. “i won’t deny that, älskling.”