#Insulation removal near me
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Insulation Kings
Website: https://www.lasvegasinsulationkings.com
Address: 410 S. Rampart Blvd. Suite #390, Las Vegas, Nevada 89145, USA
Insulation Kings, a veteran-owned and locally operated company, has been a trusted name in insulation services for over 20 years. Based in Las Vegas, Nevada, they offer a wide range of residential, commercial, and industrial insulation solutions. Known for their professionalism and guaranteed satisfaction, Insulation Kings provides services including garage insulation, wall insulation, soundproofing, foam sealing, attic insulation, and more. They are recognized for their 24/7 availability and commitment to excellence in every project.
Yelp: https://www.yelp.com/biz/insulation-kings-las-vegas-2
Keywords:
Insulation contractors near me
Attic insulation near me
Soundproofing insulation
Attic insulation installation
Insulation services near me
Insulation removal near me
Soundproofing near me
Thermal imaging near me
Attic insulation Las Vegas
Thermal imaging services
Commercial insulation near me
Residential energy efficiency
Home insulation solutions
Professional insulation contractors
Residential insulation services
Superior insulation services
Sustainable insulation options
Energy-efficient insulation
Thermal imaging Las Vegas
Casita insulation
Energy-efficient home solutions
Pool house insulation
Top insulation contractors
commercial insulation solutions
foam sealing experts
energy efficient insulation
insulation removal specialists
24 hour insulation services
las vegas insulation company
veteran owned insulation business
emergency insulation services
custom home insulation
guest house insulation
lakefront house insulation
bpi certified insulation
investment savings insulation
quality attic insulation
commercial property insulation
effective soundproofing solutions
expert foam sealing services
advanced insulation removal
insulation emergency response
professional thermal imaging
reliable insulation specialists
trusted las vegas contractors
veteran owned insulation services
rapid emergency insulation
personalized home insulation
pool house energy solutions
guest house comfort insulation
lakefront property insulation
casita energy efficient insulation
certified home insulation
customized insulation solutions
leading insulation experts
proven soundproofing techniques
cutting edge foam sealing
attic insulation excellence
energy efficient home solutions
las vegas insulation specialists
sustainable insulation practices
insulation services in las vegas
las vegas commercial insulation
insulation contractors in nevada
soundproofing in las vegas
energy efficient insulation nevada
insulation removal nevada
24 hour insulation las vegas
veteran owned insulation nevada
emergency insulation las vegas
custom home insulation nevada
pool house insulation las vegas
guest house insulation nevada
lakefront house insulation las vegas
casita insulation nevada
bpi certified insulation las vegas
investment savings insulation nevada
insulation experts in las vegas
best insulation services nevada
energy efficient insulation near me
24 hour insulation near me
veteran owned insulation near me
emergency insulation near me
custom home insulation near me
pool house insulation near me
guest house insulation near me
lakefront house insulation near me
#Insulation contractors near me#Attic insulation near me#Soundproofing insulation#Attic insulation installation#Insulation services near me#Insulation removal near me#Soundproofing near me#Thermal imaging near me#Attic insulation Las Vegas#Thermal imaging services#Commercial insulation near me#Residential energy efficiency#Home insulation solutions#Professional insulation contractors#Residential insulation services#Superior insulation services#Sustainable insulation options#Energy-efficient insulation#Thermal imaging Las Vegas#Casita insulation#Energy-efficient home solutions#Pool house insulation#Top insulation contractors#commercial insulation solutions#foam sealing experts#energy efficient insulation#insulation removal specialists#24 hour insulation services#las vegas insulation company#veteran owned insulation business
1 note
·
View note
Text
I cannot overstate the value of native 'weeds' and green manure practices. I've been having fantastic luck with my vegetable garden because I've let the native smartweed, goldenrod and falsenettle just go ahead and grow instead of picking every piece out, and then I just go in and lazily pluck out the pieces that are getting a bit too big for their britches every once in a while and let them fall where they stood; I even bring in clippings from around the yard to sprinkle in there, too. The result is my plants have protected roots, more water retention, more valuable mulch decomposing around them, and when I do need to clear a spot, there's only the easy-to-deal-with weeds in the way. Plus some of them make for great animal fodder! I don't have to remove everything I didn't plant, only pluck the tops by hand every now and again, and even if the weeds weren't giving back nutrition by decomposing, I have more nutrients than I know what to do with anyway because I have two compost areas and a worm bin inside (get a worm bin, seriously, they're great, and can fit under a sink)
I highly recommend checking your area for master gardener guilds, because they can be a wealth of information, plus a great resource for acquiring native species that are hard to find. Natives are better in literally every way; the only non-natives I have anymore are edible or larger pieces I keep for other utility or nostalgia.
Imagine if baking bread was a skill any person living independently in their own house needed to have at least a passing familiarity with, so there were endless books, blogs and websites about how to bake bread, but none of them seemed to contain the most basic facts about how bread actually works.
You would go online and find questions like "Help, I put my bread in the oven, and it GOT BIGGER!" and instead of saying anything about bread naturally rises when you put yeast in it, the results would be advertising some kind of $970 device that punches the bread while it's baking so it doesn't rise.
Even the most reliable, factually grounded sources available would have only the barest scraps of information on the particularities of ingredients, such as how different types of flour differ and produce different results, or how yeast affects the flavor profile of bread. Rice flour, barley flour, potato flour and amaranth flour would be just as common as wheat flour, but finding sources that didn't treat them as functionally identical would be near impossible. At the same time, websites and books would list specific brands of flour in bread recipes, often without specifying anything else.
An unreasonable amount of people would be hellbent on doing something like baking a full-sized loaf of bread in under 3 minutes, and would regularly bake bread to charred cinders at 700 degrees in an attempt to accomplish this, but instead of gently telling people that their goal is not realistic, books claiming to be general resources would be framed entirely around the goal of baking bread as fast as possible, with entire chapters devoted to making the charred bread taste like it isn't charred.
Anyway, this is what landscaping is like.
#the bane of my existence is non-native shrubs idiots planted because 'ooh shrub'#chinese privet has become an emergency in my area because of how prevalent it is even in undisturbed areas#going on crusades against it has been valuable for me though; it makes for decent wattle after some processing#and I've been pleased to uncover lots of neat natives#we have some pretty healthy populations of the endangered american elm and redbay now; and the redbay is delicious#not to mention lots of ferns; lizardtail; wild grape; wild blueberry; wild blackberry#I use the plantnet app for id'ing things and it's led to many wonderful discoveries about natives#and lets me know I don't have to bother removing a lot of stuff#like the creeper that apparently can be cultivated to grow on houses on purpose#because it climbs using sticky pads instead of damaging with tendrils#so now we're just letting that go and it's insulating the house#the only thing really giving me trouble now is this weird invasive shit in the yard that probably wormed in on birdseed#I don't remember the name but it's a cordage plant that gets waist-high if allowed and is damn near impossible to pull up#I've made some headway clipping it in bulk and teaching the dogs to pull it up but it's still kinda overwhelming#hopefully I have a new secret weapon; The Goose#she was still rather small when the stuff bloomed last year and while the animals are disinterested in the leaves they seem to be ok with#the flowers#so hopefully this lean mean and long eating machine can keep seed spread from being a problem#anyway#yeah#natives are the best and get birds and worms#I don't even need to turn the compost because the chickens do it already#also I been experimenting with growing fullsun plants in part shade and planting edibles in weird places or upside down in hanging pots#and it all seems to be working good!#I probably have literally 2 dozen tomatoes in random places now#I keep trimming them and dumping the trimmings in pots and they keep growing
19K notes
·
View notes
Text
Why Choose Professional Insulation Installers for Your Home in Adelaide
Appropriate insulation is essential for keeping a cozy and energy-efficient house. Many homeowners overlook the importance of professional insulation installers, but the benefits far outweigh the initial costs. In this blog, we’ll explore the advantages of hiring insulation services, particularly from Iprimus Insulation Solution in Adelaide, South Australia.
#insulation removal#insulation installers adelaide#insulation adelaide#insulation installers near me
1 note
·
View note
Text
Is Your Attic Damaging Your South Florida Home's Air Quality?
When it's one of those unbearably hot South Florida summers, have you ever wondered if the fact that your air conditioner is working extra hard could mean something bigger?
Don't worry. Lots of people forget about an important part of their HVAC systems that could make all the difference: insulation in the attic.
All right, let's jump in.
That Buffer Zone And Everything
First off, your attic is used for more than just storing memories and holiday ornaments.
On top of that, it protects your living area from the relentless South Florida sun. What happens when I don't have proper Attic Insulation Near Me?
The heat exchange process goes into overdrive, making it hard for your HVAC system to keep your home cool.
Prices for energy go through the roof: Your HVAC is wearing out faster because of all the extra work, and your energy bills are going through the roof because of it.
The Hotter, the Not-So-Better
First off, heat rises — science made sure we got that memo.
Also, during those blazing South Florida summers, your attic can get seriously hot.
And without proper insulation, that heat doesn't just stay in your attic; it seeps into your living spaces, pushing your A/C to go into overdrive.
The Trouble With Moisture
But it's not just the heat. It's the humidity too.
When you've got a hot attic mixed with South Florida's humidity, it's like a party for mold and mildew — and they're not the guests you want.
They can sneak into your air system and, before you know it, affect the air you breathe.
Attic Insulation Proved To Be Very Helpful
For what reason is it important to have good attic insulation? The answer is simple:
Balances the Temperature: Insulation helps your HVAC system do its job better by keeping the attic at a steady temperature.
Being consistent is very important: So that your HVAC doesn't have to turn on and off as often, a well-insulated attic keeps the temperature more stable.
Better Durability: Your HVAC system will last a lot longer if you use it less.
The Magic of Air Duct Sealing Service
Let's see this: The air conditioning in your home is like a runner who goes for long distances.
Like giving that runner the right gear to run effectively, sealing air ducts is the same thing. Gutters that aren't covered or that leak can:
Your HVAC system will have to work harder to cool or heat your home if air is lost.
Increase the amount of unconditioned air in your home, which will change the total climate control.
Air Duct Sealing Service South Florida, along with proper attic insulation, makes sure that your HVAC system works like a well-oiled machine, smooth and quickly.
Should You Use Fibreglass
Fibreglass insulation in South Florida stands out as a popular choice when people are discussing different types of insulation.
Still, you might ask, "Why fibreglass?"
Easy on the wallet: It keeps heat in without breaking the bank and works well as insulation.
Being versatile means it can be used in more than just the attic of your home.
Fibreglass insulation is strong enough to handle the weather and keep out the heat from the sun.
Take the Benefits to Everyone
Making sure your airlines are properly sealed and adding enough insulation to your attic will help you in many ways:
A lot of money will be saved on energy bills because the HVAC won't have to cycle on and off all the time.
No matter what time of year it is, you can make your home welcoming and cosy.
Effects on the environment: We leave behind less carbon when we use less energy.
What's Next?
You want to check the state of your attic and are thinking about sealing your air ducts. Want to take action?
Here's a gentle nudge toward taking action:
When to do the inspection: You might want to have a professional look at the insulation and air pipes in your attic.
Cost is not as important as Quality: Spending money on good insulation and sealing services now can save you money and trouble in the future.
Remember that keeping your HVAC system in good shape and making sure it lasts a long time is more than just cleaning it and fixing small problems as they come up.
Additionally, it involves making sure that the setting in which it works is ideal for its success. Does your attic have enough Attic insulation South Florida and those air tubes are sealed? For your HVAC system, that means preparing the way for a smooth, fruitful journey ahead.
After all that work, you'll know it was worth it when you get your next energy bill and see that the numbers have gone down. We hope you have a cooler home and your HVAC system is feeling better!
#attic insulation boca raton#attic insulation near me#best attic insulation south florida#attic insulation removal south florida
1 note
·
View note
Text
Things to Consider While Choosing Insulation Companies in Virginia Beach
The right insulation in your home keeps heat during the winter and out during summer time. It is a significant factor while considering energy efficacy. It is important to select the right company to install it. If the insulation is wrongly put in, then it might mean a massive drop in energy effectiveness. Your cooling and heating bills go up and charge you money. Do not let a bad spray foam insulation company ruin your house’s energy savings. That is why we have created this guide to choose the right insulation companies Virginia Beach. If you follow these instructions, then you will find the perfect company to install your home insulation.
If you look up for insulation company selections, you will find many in your city. The list of insulation companies on the Internet may seem infinite if you are in a high peopled area. Your first step is to slim down the options by looking at reviews and references, then search for ‘insulation contractors near me’.
Websites such as Google, Yelp have reviews from previous clients. They provide you impartial reviews of their knowledge. If a contractor has a lot of positive reviews, then keep them on the list. If they have lots of undesirable reviews, then they probably have poor business practices for insulation. In such circumstances, you should consider Universal Insulation Doctor, the best solution for a better quality insulation process.
Find a Company by Comparing Insulation Costs
Using the narrowed-down list, communicate the companies and have them come out and offer you an estimation. Each company is different, so get a detailed list of what the estimation requires. One company may be less costly, but do not include features that another company does. There are many types of insulation, so appreciate why they want a specific type for your home. This aspect will help you to find the best insulation companies Virginia Beach.
Experience
Keep in mind the experience of the contractor and their installers while searching for ‘attic insulation companies near me’. The company like Universal Insulation Doctor has experienced installers do the job quicker and on budget. Do not just select the company that has the lowermost price without knowing what you are getting into.
Select Only License and Insured Companies
Professional insulation installers are insured and licensed to protect both you and themselves. They should reply to this information rapidly if you ask about it. If the company does not, then it is a red flag. A license shows they have passed all essential tests from the state.
Choose the Correct Company
Choosing insulation companies Virginia Beach is not easy but this guide helps you make the right decision. Insulation plays a big part in your house’s energy efficacy, so choose Universal Insulation Doctor, the best insulation company for you. We can offer you a hassle-free house insulation assessment as well as an estimate. We also provide you with a precise old insulation removal cost.
#insulation companies virginia beach#insulation contractors near me#insulation removal cost#attic insulation companies near me
0 notes
Text
supermodel
pairing: photographer!haechan x (f) model!reader
genre/warnings: smut, angst, hollywood!au, photographer!haechan, model!reader, descriptions of vomiting, fluff, unsolicited comments, mentions of alcohol use (not while expectant)
summary: Five years ago, you left your hometown and ex to recreate your identity in California. Now, you're a staple of the fashion industry and on the front cover of magazines everywhere. Your hard work has paid off, but when you realize that you might be pregnant, you have to decide whether you want to be a full-time model or a full-time mother.
word count: 23k
a/n: at last, here she is! thank you for your patience, i know it was a long wait. this is a sequel to love jones. as always, feedback is appreciated!
Smiling from ear to ear, the giddy butterflies in the pit of your stomach just wouldn’t leave. Given that they’d been there for five years, it was safe to assume they never would.
Five years of romance. To celebrate, you and your boyfriend decided on cooking your own dinner at home. Your boyfriend was not an attentive cook (a couple of distracted incidents and he was strictly prohibited and sidelined from food preparation duties) which made the night both fun and a nightmare.
When Haechan asked you for dinner suggestions, you were very adamant that you wanted lobster. Which surprised him, given that you’d been to a handful of seafood restaurants and you never expressed a taste for lobster, though he reckoned you wanted to be fancy for your five-year anniversary.
“Baby,” you whined. “Is it just me, or is it really hot in here?”
“It’s hot because you’re here,” Haechan flirted in a heartbeat. Some things never changed.
You rolled your eyes, whining, “Seriously. Aren’t you about to burn up? I feel like I’m going to die.”
“Only thing I feel like I might die of is hypothermia. If anything, it’s kinda cold to me, baby.”
You frowned, finding that questionably odd. You had already taken off his insulating leather jacket, left in nothing but a tank top, and you didn’t want to remove any other layers in fear of getting lobster juice all over yourself. Maybe it was a metabolism thing.
Haechan pointed to your wine glass with his own. “Aren’t you going to drink that? You always want wine.”
Glancing down, you noticed your filled wine glass that you had hardly touched. Even when you were out celebrating with your agent and a couple of other staff, you declined the offer for wine. Your agent was shocked. She knew you loved to get wine drunk. “Not really in the mood.”
If your boyfriend thought that something was out of the ordinary, he didn’t say anything.
After a while, you started to forget about your suspicious behavior. Time quickly lost its meaning as you chatted with Haechan, running your mouths like the two people who never shut up that you were. To this day you still perfectly matched each other’s energy. Five years down, a lifetime left to go.
You were twenty-six now, Haechan twenty-eight. Though your grandmother liked to joke that you were catching up to her, sometimes you didn’t feel like you were pushing thirty. Notably when you were with Haechan. His ability to make you feel like a teenager in love needed to be studied.
In those five years, not only had you developed your relationship with the love of your life, but you also made your name known within the industry. Of course, your success wasn’t without a couple of setbacks and near career-ending allegations, but you somehow came out on top in the end.
Haechan also had a lucrative career. From being hired to take pictures of lowkey performers on tour to becoming a chief photographer with his own studio that worked with wealthy media moguls, he had obviously come extremely far. And he was only getting more popular amongst affluent patrons.
All in the span of five years. You never would have guessed. Five years ago, you lived in a condo downtown. Now, you lived in a comfortable house with Haechan and you couldn’t be happier.
Out of nowhere, you started to feel as if you were going to be sick. You stood from the table, muttering “bathroom” when your boyfriend tossed you a baffled look.
Haechan let you be. He figured you just had to pee. You were doing that more often for whatever reason.
Though you tried to be indifferent about the sudden involuntary motions in your stomach, you were quick to make a beeline for the bathroom in fear of vomiting all over the floor.
You headed straight for the toilet and kneeled on the floor, bracing your hands on the seat while you retched and dry-heaved into the bowl. Your mouth felt almost painfully dry afterwards and all you could taste was the scorching feeling of bile.
This was absolutely ridiculous and you didn’t understand what was happening to you. Though you weren’t particularly a fan of lobster, you could usually handle seafood. Maybe having Haechan help you cook wasn’t the smartest idea.
Speak of the devil, he called from the other side of the door, “Baby, you good in there?”
“Uh, no,” you muttered just loud enough for his ears.
Haechan’s voice sounded alarmed. “What’s wrong?”
Wincing at the sight of greenish-yellow vomit, you flushed the toilet and stood to vigorously wash your hands. “I kinda threw up.”
“What? Was it something you ate? Baby, I love your cooking, but I’ve been trying to tell you that all that butter is not good for your stomach.”
“I really don’t think that’s the problem,” you droned irritably.
Haechan joked, “What - are you pregnant or something?”
Something about those words made you freeze right in the middle of drying your hands with paper towels. Pregnant, you realized. It was all coming back to you. Haechan fucked you raw not too long ago. And you couldn’t remember the last time you had a period.
Silence was never a good thing for either of you and the worry was evident in Haechan’s voice. “Baby, you’re not actually pregnant. Right?”
Your eyes were wide as you exclaimed, “I don’t know!”
“Can I come in?”
“Yeah,” you said shakily.
The door opened, Haechan revealing himself. He was quick to notice the panic on your face and grabbed your hand in his, crooning, “Baby, talk to me. What’s going on?”
You inhaled a deep breath through your nose, exhaling one large puff of air. “Okay, remember I had my IUD removed?”
Haechan’s brows furrowed. “Uh huh.”
“And then I went off the pill because they were giving me migraines,” you added frantically.
“Yeah, so we started using condoms.”
“Right,” you said, nodding your head. “But that one time we ran out…”
Haechan continued, “And you begged me to fuck you anyway?”
“That’s not the point,” you hissed. ��The point is we had sex without a condom, I don’t remember having a period, and now I’m puking everywhere.”
“Well, if two plus two equals four…,” Haechan trailed.
You snapped, “Can you be serious for once?”
Haechan grabbed your wrist, kissing the back of your hand tenderly to console you. “I am being serious. I think we should buy a pregnancy test or ten. Just to be certain.”
You reminded, “It’s late. All the pharmacies are closed.”
“Then, we go first thing tomorrow,” was Haechan’s solution.
His touches were enough to ease your mind for a little. You nodded in acceptance, taking a deep breath and closing your eyes. This was a frightening moment and you were glad that you weren’t alone.
As soon as the following day, you and Haechan were on your way to a local pharmacy on his motorbike. His red motorbike, might you add. Though the sleek black one was directly involved in a number of good memories, one too many stunts had maimed her. You surprised him with another one for his birthday last year and he fell in love without a second thought.
The pharmacy was busy at this hour. Though Haechan’s suggestion of getting ten pregnancy tests was somewhat dramatic, you did make sure to grab a couple packs of two. It was better to be safe than sorry, after all.
You rushed to the bathroom the second you were back home, telling Haechan you would be back after a moment to tell him the results. You were clear that he waited outside the door. Your brain amassed hectic thought after hectic thought and it was driving you crazy.
Over the next couple of minutes, you sat antsily on the toilet lid and waited. According to the instructions on the box, your fate would be decided in as little as a few minutes. If you waited too long, your results could display inaccuracies.
You were just so scared. If you were pregnant, that could change everything. Your nerves were worked and you could feel the stress in your shoulders as much as you tried to feign a semblance of order.
When the three minutes were up, you braced yourself with one big breath and found the courage to check the lines.
You sucked in a breath. Not a single one was negative.
“Oh my god,” you gasped.
“What’s wrong?” Haechan asked frantically, leaning against the door. This was just as nerve-racking for him as it was for you.
“They’re positive,” you exclaimed. “All four of them!”
That was Haechan’s cue to open the door, immediately grabbing a hold of you. You looked like your weight would drop to the floor any second now. “Okay, babe. Breathe,” he whispered.
You braced your hands on the counter. “I can’t. This is too much.”
“Sit,” Haechan said, holding you steadily in his arms. Like hell he would let you go in a time like this.
You sat on the fluffy toilet lid again, your head spinning. Nothing could describe how light your limbs felt in that moment. Or your head.
“There’s a one percent chance they’re wrong,” Haechan told you in reminder.
You shook your head. “Really? You think all four of them are wrong?”
Haechan took your tone in stride. “That’s not what I said. What I meant is I think you should contact your doctor. We can’t be too sure.”
Well, you couldn’t argue with that logic. It was the obvious thing to do. The second you calmed down enough to speak without shaky breath you called your health care provider and scheduled an appointment with your physician.
In a couple of days, you met with your primary physician, Haechan insisting that he wanted to be there. You made no argument. This baby was his just as much as it was yours and he made it a point to remind you that he wanted to be a part of every second.
For half an hour, the nurse's kind words in between constant beeps as she asked you for medical information was all you heard while your thoughts waged war. Even the faint chatter from the small TV mounted in the corner of the room didn’t register.
Footsteps jolted you out of your thoughts for a moment and you were a little more at ease when your doctor finally entered the patient room. There was a fleeting, kind greeting and she recounted your concerns as you’d briefed them over the phone just to be sure she was correct.
It was the most tense moment of your life. Had you not been holding Haechan’s fingers with one hand and bracing the chair with the other, you would have been chewing your nails.
After a couple of non-invasive tests, a suspenseful few minutes, and a transvaginal prenatal ultrasound, it was concluded that you were seven weeks pregnant. The whole room was reeling. Your doctor told you that she would have to run a few scans to ensure that you weren’t exposed to a high-risk pregnancy, but you could decide within two weeks if you wanted to terminate through medication.
Not only were you seven weeks pregnant, but seven weeks pregnant with dizygotic twins. Non-identical, your doctor explained. If you preferred, you could come back in three weeks to determine the sex.
“Twins,” you rasped. “Two babies. Wow.”
Sitting in your car, you gripped the seatbelt with your life. Haechan insisted that you take your car instead of his bike considering that you were more than likely pregnant, and since he didn’t know the risks associated with pregnant mothers on a motorbike, he decided it was better to play it safe.
Though your doctor revealed that minimum travel within the first few months of your pregnancy was generally not a threat unless you were going a lengthy distance. Much to your boyfriend’s happiness.
It was quiet while you two sat in the parking lot, save for the Mark Lee song playing faintly on the radio. He was grammy-nominated now.
There was a long pause before you could speak. Haechan was the same, looking paler than usual. You almost couldn’t breathe. Your head was still stuck in that neutral-toned hospital room and the scent of antiseptics still wafted through your nostrils.
The whole parking lot was upside down as you fretted, “I’m pregnant. Oh my god. Wow. I’m pregnant!”
“Hey,” Haechan started, reaching over the center console and grabbing your hands in his. There was another pause before he continued speaking. “We’re pregnant.”
Your eyes flickered. Then, you burst into laughter. That was the last thing you expected him to say.
Haechan was grinning, glad that he could make you laugh even if it was just for a moment. Your doctor was clear that stress was very harmful for the kids. “I’m serious!”
“Okay,” you replied. Though you were still giggling. “We’re pregnant.”
“You better know.”
You sighed, leaning against the door window. The ultrasound displayed not one, but two tiny embryos currently sharing your uterus. And they were only growing.
Handing the ultrasound to Haechan, you let it all sink in, starting, “When I was twenty-one, pregnancy was the last thing on my agenda. Jae wanted to slow down, but I didn’t want to stop. I was just getting started. I mean, I still am, it’s only been five years.”
Haechan flinched at the mention of your ex. It was rare that you brought him up in conversation. For good reason. “And you’ve still accomplished so much.”
“Yeah, but I wanna accomplish more. If I have a baby, I have to take a break from the grind to be a mother. And god forbid I let somebody else raise my kids,” you grumbled.
Haechan quickly saw what the problem was. “Okay, baby, stop. This isn’t the end. You’re pregnant, but that doesn’t mean you become my housewife and die. I wouldn’t ever try to put the brakes on you.”
“I know, but…”
“Listen,” he said. “We can always make more babies another time. Your life isn’t over.”
You huffed, “I have, like, four years before that ship sails and it’s in god’s hands.”
“Anything could happen in four years.”
You heaved another breath. “True,” you replied. Even two years from now you could decide that you wanted to settle down.
It just felt like there was so much at stake. You were a model, for fuck’s sake. Very much a celebrity. Not only did you love your job and having two babies mean you would have less time to devote to yourself, but everyone would be watching them the same way they watched you.
When you went out, there was guaranteed to be a camera not far behind. You couldn’t even get lunch with a friend without being borderline stalked wherever you went. Masks and disguises barely helped.
Anybody that was a friend of yours was a friend of the media. Your whole life was on the internet and there was always a magnifying glass being held close to your face. Every second of your life you were being examined and judged by people who didn’t even know you. Expectations were a constant weight on your shoulders.
“If I have these kids, I don’t want them to grow up in the eyes of the media,” you started sternly. “I subject myself to judgment and scrutiny every day I step out of my house. Babies don’t deserve that.”
Haechan bobbed his head in agreement. “Then, I watch them. And if I’m busy, then we get a babysitter.”
You huffed, “And trust a stranger with our child?”
The look of horror on Haechan’s face immediately declined that offer. “I’ve got family here. We can pay my cousin or something. Look, baby, we’ll figure this out. Together.”
You squeezed his hand, stifling tears. There was so much weight on your heart. It was almost suffocating until you remembered that you weren’t alone.
For the next couple of weeks, you mulled the decision over. You didn’t tell anyone that you were pregnant - not even your grandmother or Haechan’s parents, who referred to themselves as your in-laws, even though you and Haechan weren’t married.
That thought tickled something in your brain. Marriage, you hypothesized. And a family. Deep down inside, it was something you always wanted, but you never knew when. You always figured the day would come where you would just know.
That day had come.
It isn’t the end of the world, you consoled, having had time to be reasonable with yourself. You were far enough in your career where it wouldn’t weaken your income if you took some time to be lowkey. Haechan, the brainiac that he was, even suggested you endorse baby products.
Everything felt so earth-shattering to you that you’d been confused into thinking weighing your options meant you only had one choice. Your mind was quick to wander, wondering if that was a symptom of carrying a developing baby.
You breathed easier when it finally hit you that you didn’t have to choose between the career you loved and starting a family with the man you loved. Because you wanted both and you would have both. Even if it was in moderate amounts.
At ten weeks, you were back in the doctor’s office to determine the sex of your babies. Haechan was hoping for boys while you were hoping for girls. Imagine your shock when Doctor Stakes congratulated you on carrying a boy and girl.
By the end of the first trimester, you decided that you would be keeping the babies and your career. Haechan was both over the moon and a little anxious knowing that he would be a first-time father. Neither of you knew what you were doing and that made it as scary as it was exciting.
Still, nobody knew. Outside of your symptoms, it wasn’t too obvious. Your baby bump wasn’t very big yet.
“No smoking, no drinking, no hot tubs or saunas, moderate caffeine intake, no raw seafood,” you grumbled, recalling Doctor Stakes’ very detailed explanations of what was and was not healthy during your pregnancy.
“Well,” Haechan started, plopping down on your shared mattress. “She did say we could still have lots of sex.”
You immediately rolled your eyes. “I believe her exact words were sex will not hurt our babies as long as my pregnancy is without health complications and I don’t start to experience bleeding, high blood pressure, and premature contractions.”
Haechan gently grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap, retorting, “You look fine to me. How do you feel?”
“Good,” you sighed, getting comfortable on his thighs. “Different, but not bad different. Good.”
Haechan leaned into your ear and purred, “Which translates into good for lots of sex.”
You playfully hit him, pretending to be irritated. You knew he was only kidding. Kind of.
Doctor Stakes was straightforward but thorough in her explanations, walking you through the route of pregnancy with more than a couple of recommendations prioritizing the best potential health of you and your unborn babies. She said that sex was perfectly fine during the first five through six months. Something about your babies being cushioned by your abdomen and amniotic sac fluid.
Whatever the hell that is, you remembered thinking. She also suggested you enroll in a parenting class just so that you knew what to expect. It was not rare for first-time parents to take them and they were apparently super helpful.
It seemed strict, but you knew it was best for your children’s development, especially in the early stages. Though you would miss the freedom of your old life. “I kind of miss alcohol just because I can’t have it.”
“I’m not giving you any,” Haechan said, voice stern.
You snorted. “I wasn’t asking. I’m not an idiot. It’s just… this is my life now. It’s gonna be hard.”
Kissing your cheek tenderly, Haechan replied, “Well, if you can’t drink, I won’t drink either.”
That surprised you and you wanted to know if he was joking or not. “Seriously?”
“Duh,” Haechan said. “Like I said, we’re pregnant. Anything you can’t have, shit, I can’t have it either. I guess we’re both abstaining.”
“You don’t have to,” you whispered, though you liked the idea of him doing it anyway. It made your heart flutter.
Haechan shrugged. “Yeah, but I would feel like a dickhead for enjoying things that I know you can’t have right in your face. Besides, my liver is probably screaming ‘thank god.’”
You snickered, bringing your lips to his. That turned you on. You couldn’t even explain it. There was just something so hot and attractive about the words leaving his mouth and you decided you wanted him.
Letting your eyes flutter closed, you quickly tangled yourself in thoughts of him and him only; like a stimulant that only got more lethal with every hit. Sometimes it did feel that way. Like pleasure of this magnitude was too mind-numbing to be free.
Innocent touches became gestures of desperation. Haechan kissed you like he couldn’t get enough, hands zipping to your tender breasts while you looped your arms around his neck. He somehow only got better at kissing. You didn’t even know how that could happen.
Almost like you brought out the best in each other.
“Fuck,” you groaned, eyes snapping open.
Haechan instantly noticed and was quick to halt his actions in case he was causing you discomfort. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”
You shook your head. “No, it’s just my boobs… They’re a little sore.”
Haechan chirped, “Nothing I can’t take care of.”
You giggled when he carefully lowered your weight onto the bed, lifting your shirt above your head and quickly getting rid of your bra. A moan left you when he caught a nipple in his mouth, gently kneading the other one in his hand.
There was something so addictive about the feeling of your boyfriend’s warm mouth on your body. You couldn’t help but exhale and moan, just comforted by the fact that he was supplying you warmth. His hands wandered, too, always soft and tender. Whatever moisturizer he was using was doing god’s work.
“Babe,” you sighed out. Both your mind and body were relaxed and that was exactly what you needed, all things considered.
His tongue passed over your erect nipples, feeling them harden at his touch. Your boyfriend’s goal was to make you feel completely worshiped and he was doing a great job, for lack of a better word. Given that you were the one responsible for carrying and birthing two babies, he concluded that god could only be a woman.
But you were getting way too worked up and it was driving you to the edge. “Baby,” you called. “I want more.”
There was an erotic wet sound when Haechan pulled away from your boobs. “Are you sure? I was just kidding about the whole sex thing earlier.”
“No you weren’t.”
“No I wasn’t.”
You snorted. Classic Haechan.
Haechan quickly sobered again, whispering, “But I still wanna make sure this is what you want.”
You appreciated his concern, but the longer you waited, the quicker the heat pulsed between your legs and you couldn’t shake it anymore. “Haechan, I literally could not be more sure when I say I need your cock inside me.”
King of playing it cool that he was, Haechan pretended that those words weren’t like throwing gasoline on a field of already blazing thoughts. At least until he got inside you. Then, he had no thoughts. Brain empty. And he couldn’t help but bare his soul to you.
Pussy made him talk. There was absolutely nothing that he could hide when he was balls deep inside you.
Haechan shifted between your thighs, thanking god that you decided to wear a skirt today. His patience was wearing thin by the second and knowing how much you wanted him only strengthened his need.
You could only feel your heart thumping and his body heat wafting over you. Other things seemed so much smaller and irrelevant than they were.
Your panties came off with a yank and your glistening folds had Haechan’s undivided attention. “Shit, you’re so wet. I didn’t even do anything,” he said marvelously.
“Shut up,” you huffed, though it wasn’t sincere. Little things about him being committed to being a father turned you on. He didn’t understand how scary it was to be alone.
Haechan chuckled. “As you wish.”
You knew it wouldn’t be too long before he opened his mouth again and you weren’t complaining.
Overcome with want and the need to do something, you lifted yourself up and crawled towards Haechan to help him undress his pants down his legs. Haechan let you do as much, but the second his bare cock was out, he was gently pushing you back down.
You pouted, lips tucking out. “I wanna do something.”
When you were comfortably on your back, Haechan started to rub his cock. “No,” he said, borderline teasing. “You can lay here and let me take care of you.”
His cock had your attention, your eyes fixed to how hard he was. “Okay.”
Haechan parted your legs again, gentler than typical. “On the plus side,” he started, holding his dick between your thighs. “I can’t get you pregnant if you’re already pregnant.”
You quipped, “That’s actually not impossible. Something called superfetation. I heard about it a couple of months ago after searching on Google for too long. It’s super rare, though. Don’t worry.”
“I am about to superfetate this pussy,” Haechan groaned, obnoxious.
“You’re turning me off.”
Haechan laughed.
After a moment of coating himself in your wetness and hearing your soft moans, Haechan decided he couldn’t take it anymore and slowly penetrated you. His jaw unhitched, more than a couple of sounds escaping him.
You weren’t any better. He just made you feel so full. You liked when he made it seem like it was only the two of you and you existed for each other.
Haechan was painfully hard inside you and desperate to move, though not before he said without room for argument, “Tell me if you want me to stop or if it hurts.”
You simply just nodded. There was nothing you wouldn’t do if it got him to fuck your brains out.
Then, Haechan started to move. His hands were on your hips, serving as an anchor so that he wouldn’t lose himself completely as he drowned in your wet pussy. In a similar manner, you braced your hands on his shoulders, holding onto him for dear life.
You were gazing at Haechan with one fatal combination of love and lust. They couldn’t be separated. Not after all the things that had been done and all the words that had been said. All you knew was that you had bared your body to him in the same way you’d bared your heart.
“Baby, don’t stop,” you sighed, eyes fluttering shut. “Don’t stop.” There was a pressure building inside the walls wedged between your legs and it only came out when he was steadily rocking his hips into you.
The whole room suddenly seemed a thousand degrees hotter and Haechan couldn’t breathe, exhaling loudly with labored breath. He couldn’t take that your pussy was so warm and tight, grumbling, “Fuck,” in between moans, smacking his hips into yours uncontrollably.
For a half second, you made eye contact with Haechan, just before he was sucking at the pulse on your collarbone and you couldn’t help but cry out his name, his chest creating friction against yours just enough to not be uncomfortable.
Haechan willed himself not to tighten his grip at the arc of your hips for the sheer reason that he didn’t want to hurt you. Not only did he not want to hurt you any more than you asked for, but the reminder that his children were growing inside your belly made him treat you like you were fragile.
He wanted to ask you to marry him, but he was terrified that it was way too soon. This pregnancy wasn’t even planned. You would probably have a heart attack if he asked for your hand in marriage. He was no stranger to being chided for moving too quickly, though it was just his nature.
Little did he know, you loved that about him. He could come off too strong sometimes, but beneath his fast jumps to get started was a zealous boy with big hopes for the future.
“I love you,” Haechan whispered, lips brushing against your skin.
Your eyes fluttered open, meeting his again. “I love you. You’re my everything.”
“You’re my everything and then some,” Haechan flirted.
“You’re my everything and everything in between.”
Haechan started, “You’re my everything and…”
All it took was a kiss to the lips to effectively shut him up, grabbing his head and steering him closer to you. Like you weren’t already skin to skin. You sucked his tongue in your mouth, moaning at how his cock hit your sweet spot.
You were just so consumed by him - entirely. Though you knew that there was no closer the two of you could be, you’d be damned if you didn’t try.
Haechan’s hands wandered up to grab a handful of your breasts, gently squeezing the soft skin in his palms. He couldn’t get enough of the way you panted and sighed at his touch. There was no need for oxygen when he had you and he kissed you breathlessly until he thought he was going to die.
Haechan exhaled with his mouth hanging open, “You cheated.” His lips were perfectly swollen, the sight winning a smile out of you.
You giggled.
With how your walls were kneading and gushing around his cock, Haechan knew that he wouldn’t last. His mouth watered at the thought of coming inside you since it had been so long ago. That one time just short of two months ago excluded, obviously. Though he hadn’t meant for it to happen.
But first and foremost Haechan wanted to get you off and he steered a hand between your legs, thumbing your clit. You squirmed instantly, sensitive.
Little moans of his name kept escaping from your lips. “Haechan, I’m going to come if you keep doing that,” you warned, though rocked your hips into his to match his pace. The pleasure was different from before and the intimacy was even more intense.
Haechan chuckled breathlessly, staving off his orgasm for as long as he could. “That’s the point, baby.”
There was a resoundingly wet squelch as Haechan continued to bulldoze his cock into your cunt, breezing through the air. Your hands flew to your face as you covered yourself, embarrassed, but he pulled them away just as quick. “Don’t hide.”
“Don’t you hear that? I’m embarrassed,” you blurted.
Haechan shook his head, peering down at you with misty eyes, and growled, “Sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.”
You were breathless. Haechan silenced you by capturing your lips in one incapacitating kiss and you swore your heart stopped beating for a second.
He made it too easy to forget. Forget the all-consuming worries of eventual childbirth. The threat of kissing everything you’d ever known and wanted goodbye. And the fear of raising a child that might end up making the same mistakes as you.
No words left your mouth as you parted your lips in a silent scream, trembling with the pressure of orgasm. You were a total disaster - you couldn’t stop moving, shaking and grinding yourself onto him even as your orgasm aggressively passed.
Your orgasm ripped the soul out of you without leaving anything behind in a merciless act of overkill and you only slacked onto the mattress when it felt completely over. You heaved for breath, almost like you would never breathe again. You had never felt anything so vigorously. Every thought vacated your brain.
Haechan was obviously not far behind - if the frequent pitched moans you were milking out of him were any indication - and you were borderline begging him to fill you again. This was a different strain of desperation than the kind that got you pregnant. This was more lethal.
Your walls were pulsing around him and Haechan couldn’t take it, hissing your name when he came with a sharp cry. His hips didn’t still until he rode out his high, both of you moaning in a delighted sync when his cum dripped.
“Fuck,” Haechan sighed, finally noticing how fast his heart was pounding against his chest.
You started, “That was…”
“Intense,” Haechan finished.
You nodded in agreement. Though it was enjoyable nonetheless.
The two of you just sat there and wallowed in the afterhighs of sex for a bit. You were too exhausted to move and Haechan didn’t want to leave you alone. He spooned you in his arms for a total of fifteen minutes while the two of you chatted incessantly until you decided you finally had mustered enough strength.
Time was a blur when Haechan helped you to your feet - not that you needed it yet - and led you to the bathroom where he proceeded to run the shower for both of you. After playfully washing each other’s backs, you went back to the bedroom clad in nothing but towels.
For once, it was comfortably silent when you slipped back into bed. Then, to your surprise, Haechan started to cry. You gasped, “You’re crying!”
Hot tears stung Haechan’s eyes. Few things brought him to literal tears. He was just so over-thrilled to be the father of your babies. “Yeah.”
You cradled his face in your hands, kissing his lips. “We’re making two babies. We’re going to be parents. For the next eighteen years, they’re going to be our most paramount priority.”
Haechan knew that. You weren’t the only one that was going to be taking a step back from the grind, at least until you both grew a little more familiar with the parenting life. His decreased hours were non-negotiable and it helped that he was one of the co-owners.
Not only was he going to be a father, but he needed to take time to be an even more devoted partner to you. Both of you were responsible for these children and the very last thing he wanted was for you to feel like you were carrying the weight by yourself.
Wiping the tears out of his blurry eyes, Haechan said, “I can’t believe you let a guy like me get you pregnant.”
You furrowed your brows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That I’m not exactly the type of dude people look at and go ‘he’s going to make an incredible father.’”
You liked that Haechan was being vulnerable with you. He started doing it more often ever since he realized that his indifference could drive you away. His feelings were deeper than he tended to lead on. When it came to you, he was an open book.
“You’re going to make an incredible father. There. I said it,” you whispered.
Haechan smiled, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. That was all he needed to hear.
At sixteen weeks, your baby bump still wasn’t protruding even though you were definitely carrying twins. Doctor Stakes reassured you that everybody’s journey was different and your pregnant belly very well might not pop up until the end of the second trimester.
And since you hadn’t announced that you were pregnant (you were conflicted), you working was still fully expected. Nobody asked questions. You considered yourself pretty damn slick.
That was, until your agent knocked on your trailer while the crew were breaking. She was a down-to-earth, middle-aged woman named Patricia.
“Hey,” you greeted, letting her inside. “Something wrong?”
Shutting the trailer door with a thud (this particular company tended to have faulty trailer doors), Mrs. Patricia shook her head gently. “Not particularly. I was curious about something and I wanted to speak with you woman to woman.”
That had your undivided attention. You set down the water bottle you’d been gulping back and prompted, “Yes?”
Mrs. Patricia started, “Excuse me if I’m overstepping, but… are you expecting?”
You blinked. “Is it obvious?”
“It’s in your nose.”
Your hand went up to your nose and you exclaimed, “What’s wrong with my nose?”
She gave you a look that sternly told you to lower your voice and replied levelly, “There is nothing wrong with your nose, but it is swollen.”
You had no idea what she was talking about and it was evident on your face.
Mrs. Patricia explained, “Fluid retention. I had a swollen nose and hands during my pregnancy with my twenty-year-old, but it went away after my postpartum period.”
“Oh,” you replied quietly.
“Congratulations, by the way. I think you would benefit from following up on the symptoms of pregnancy, just so that you know what to expect,” she suggested. “Again, I don’t mean to overstep.”
Though your mind was at a billion different places, you forced a smile and said, “No, it’s okay - thank you!”
But the second you came home, you were a different person.
“Babe,” you called out, setting your keys in the tray near the door. Haechan told you that he would be home by now and you saw his motorbike parked in the garage. “Babe!”
Given the distance, his voice was faint, but you heard a faraway, “I’m coming!”
You stood there and patiently removed your shoes while you waited. There were now a handful of other things weighing on your mind and you didn’t know how to handle it by yourself.
Haechan zipped downstairs, pleased to see you at the end of a long day. His hair was a beautiful mess at the top of his head and you could only guess he had been playing video games with Jaemin and Mark.
Not that you were concerned about any of that right now.
“Hey, baby. How was your day?” Haechan asked, coming up to you to trap you in a bear hug. Like he did everyday.
But you weren’t at all in the mood for any of it, ignoring his question completely. “Is my nose swollen?”
That obviously wasn’t what Haechan thought you were going to say. “Huh?”
“You heard me.”
Haechan drew back, realizing you were in one of your moods again. Doctor Stakes mentioned that you were prone to mood swings and he would just have to deal with it in the gentlest way he could. “I mean, I didn’t wanna say anything, but it’s a little...”
“Oh my fucking god,” you exclaimed, stepping around him and bolting for the kitchen.
Haechan was hot on your heels. “Babe, wait up!”
You threw open the snack pantry door, scanning them for your favorite chips, before remembering that you finished the bag last night. “Fuck, I forgot to order from the store!”
The words were right on his tongue, though Haechan knew better than to tell you to calm down. He was no stranger to your temper. His voice was level, calm. “We can always order more.”
Fresh tears dampened your face, burning while they blurred your vision. Reality was a mean little bitch with a hard punch. “Damn the chips! I can’t believe this.”
Haechan assumed it was a model thing. They were strict about your appearance and you always had to look a certain way. It was part of the reason why he never saw your career as an option for himself, though he wasn’t going to snitch about your junk food indulgence.
Tentatively reaching out for you, Haechan kissed your face and cooed, “Hey, baby, listen to my voice. Your body is going to change. The doc said that’s completely normal. It’s nothing to lose your shit over.”
“It’s everything to lose my shit over!” you wailed. “I’m not mad about my fucking nose - I’m mad because I know nothing about bringing a baby into this world and I’m going to be a shit mother!”
“Don’t you dare say that,” Haechan told you, stern but still tranquil. You wholeheartedly envied it.
“It’s true,” you huffed, sinking against the refrigerator. “My nose is swollen. I literally didn’t even know that was a thing! If I don’t know minor fucking details, how am I going to know how to parent?”
While you knew your agent had no foul intentions by commenting about your nose and there wasn’t a single mean bone in her body, you wished she would have kept it to herself. You couldn’t stop thinking about how you didn’t have this under control. This baby-making shit was not your strong suit.
Other than the sex itself, although that was the last thing on your mind right now.
It was completely unexpected for Haechan’s voice to drop the way it did. You had never seen him so serious. “We can take classes. Doctor Stakes recommended them, you know.”
You grumbled, “Why didn’t Doctor Stakes tell me that I was going to get a new nose?”
“She did, actually. Something about…”
“Fluid retention, I know. My agent told me,” you replied snappily. You were finally calming down, though hardly. Pregnancy came with its fair share of frustrations. Though it was also accompanied by the lack of energy to express them all.
Haechan helped you off the ground, clearing your face of any tears with his thumb. “Is she the one that commented on your nose?”
You shrugged your shoulders but answered, “Yeah.”
“I think your agent should mind her bitter, decrepit business,” Haechan spat, though his tone was completely noncommittal.
You snorted. “She’s not bad, Haechan.”
“I don’t care. It’s bad manners.”
You couldn’t argue with that. But it was nothing worth getting a new manager over and if anything you would just talk to her about boundaries. The only reason she was even on set was because you wanted her there.
“The point is,” Haechan started, grabbing your hands and locking your fingers in his. “Every problem has a fix. I don’t know shit about this, either. You think I’ve been a father before? Must I remind you that you’re the only girl I’ve ever came inside of?”
You folded your arms. “And the only one you ever will.”
Haechan snickered, bobbing his head. You were lightening up and he could breathe a little easier. “Yes. And the only one I ever will.”
You let out a shaky breath. Though you still felt like ripping your hair out, you no longer felt the need to scream. Your lungs had had enough for one night. “Fine.”
“We’ll take classes together. I already managed my hours, so I’ve got time. You should tell the people you work for that you’re pregnant,” Haechan suggested.
You nodded. His constant touches killed your doubts again. Ultimately, they were no match against the love of your life. “How are you so nonchalant about this?”
Haechan shrugged like he had absolutely zero clue. “Old habits die hard, I guess?” He was internally panicking, but excellent at hiding it. Always had been.
You hummed. Maybe it wasn’t the worst thing ever.
“And by the way, you’re beautiful. Swollen nose or not,” Haechan said. “I think it’s cute.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “Cute?”
“Yeah. Fits your face.”
“You’re just saying that because you don’t want to put up with a hysterical pregnant lady,” you droned.
Haechan didn’t try to deny it. Instead, he decided to lighten the mood, chirping, “Well, that’s what I get for being silly and not wrapping my willy.”
You forced your lips into a line, fighting a laugh. “That’s so stupid.”
“No glove, no love,” Haechan persisted, eager to get a laugh out of you. He wanted to see your shoulders shake and your nose do that cute thing it always did when you laughed at his jokes.
You playfully exclaimed, “Quit it!”
“You can’t go wrong if you shield your dong.”
That was the last blow your self-restraint could take and you finally burst out laughing like he wanted you to.
Haechan was sporting a triumphant smile. He was always glad to put a smile on your face. Even (especially) for the most idioticly absurd of reasons.
Your outburst eventually fizzled out and you thought back on something he said a couple of minutes ago, musing aloud, “Speaking of telling people that I’m pregnant, we haven’t told the clique.”
Haechan nodded. “I haven’t even told my parents. They’re gonna be so mad we waited almost twenty weeks. My mom’s been nagging me about when she can expect grandkids.”
“We should have a party. Get the gang in town and host a gathering at your parents’ house or something,” you proposed.
Haechan’s brows furrowed. “Like a gender reveal party?”
You winced. “Goodness, no. Just, like, I don’t know. A pregnancy reveal party. But they can guess if they want.”
That wasn’t the best idea. Mark and Ryujin would probably have opposite guesses and flip the table over. Grabbing your wrist to press a kiss to the back of your hand, Haechan said, “Well, you know Mark’s been in Canada for the past two months and Winter is everywhere, but I’ll see what we can do.”
You didn’t want to get your hopes up - nowadays it was rare for all of you to be in town at the same time - but that had you excited. You couldn’t wait to share the good news. “I had another idea, too,” you whispered softly.
Haechan led you to the living room so that you could sit down and asked, “What’s that?”
Once you were off your feet, you played coy and confessed, “We should have a photoshoot at your studio when my bump gets big. Just me, you, and the two babies in my belly. A grand reveal to the entire world that I’m officially a mother.”
“Sold,” Haechan hummed in approval.
You couldn’t stop smiling. A part of you couldn’t wait for it to happen. Doctor Stakes mentioned that it could feel like your stomach grew out of nowhere.
Within the next couple of days, you communicated with your consultants and the management at your agency and notified them of your pregnancy. You divulged that you were sixteen weeks along and fully intended to be a mother to your children.
And in no uncertain terms. Given the flexibility of your schedules and hectic hours, they agreed that it was only fair you took off as much as you took on. You were offered six months, which you accepted thankfully, and were told to inform them when you would be starting two weeks in advance.
When you delivered the news to Haechan, he couldn’t contain his excitement. Everyday the ongoing reminder of your looming childbirth settled in. His kids were developing inside your womb. He was going to be a father. You were going to raise two kids together in your shared home and every time he realized, he fell more and more in love with the thought.
Only a few weeks later you were at his parents’ house watching Haechan and his father set up from the kitchen. Though you wanted to at least help with the baking, his mother was unshakeable in her ways and rigidly told you to sit and not move.
She wanted her grandkids delivered in the best possible health. His parents were enthusiastic to discover that you were pregnant, though not without slight scolding. But they weren’t against a celebration.
“I knew it. You know, a mother always knows,” his mother had told you while her son and his father were in the living room.
You heard a knock at the front door a couple of hours later and separated from Haechan who was making out with you while his parents weren’t looking to greet your friends. The first person you heard was Mark.
“What up,” Mark exclaimed when he strolled inside like he owned the place.
Ryujin wasn’t far behind, obviously, but behind her was her boyfriend, Sunwoo. Every now and then, you were reminded that the guy actually existed, although he had come home from Chicago years ago.
You gave them each kind hugs. “Hi, guys. Long time, no see.”
Ryujin spat, “Mark gets a Grammy nom that he didn’t even win and acts like he’s too cool for us now.”
“God forbid a man gets busy and goes to his home country,” Mark droned in stride. “Besides, I’ll get it next year.”
You nodded in approval. That was the spirit.
“It’s good to see you, man,” Haechan said, pulling Mark in for a brief hug after doing the same with Sunwoo and Ryujin.
Mark patted him on the back. “Same, dude. It’s good to have all of us together again.”
Sunwoo picked up some candies that were collecting dust in a bowl on the coffee table. “Are these peanut butter?”
“Yup,” you retorted.
He quickly sat it back down.
Ryujin explained dryly, “He’s allergic.”
Pinching Haechan’s arm, you gave him a stern look, knowing he was on the verge of a snicker.
You remembered something and mentioned to Mark, “Oh, by the way, I’ve been hearing your new single on the radio. It’s really good.”
There was a faint blush across Mark’s cheeks. “Thanks,” he chirped.
“I did the cover art,” Ryujin added.
Mark whined, “Why can’t you ever let me have my moment?”
You chuckled. It was good to have them all back. Other than Sunwoo, you were pretty updated on what they all had going on and though it drove them out of the city sometimes, you were endlessly happy for them. Mark was obviously the next big thing and was busy making global hits, touring the seven seas.
On the other hand, Ryujin worked from home more often than not, typically only leaving California to go on vacation. She did art commissions notably for wealthy patrons and pitched in with Mark’s creative team whenever needed.
Chaewon was also frequently home, owning a hair and nail salon here and all. You and Winter definitely took pictures and credited her in your Instagrams stories. Speaking of Winter, she was everywhere, much like you. More than once, you collaborated in a photoshoot or went to Paris Fashion Week together.
Which left Jaemin. He was much more lowkey. After giving his master's degree last year, he finally started to work as a mechanical engineer. You couldn’t believe how smart he was, having skipped a grade and all.
The others showed up a little later. Your stomach was turning with a mixture of nerves and excitement. You couldn’t wait to get the news off of your chest. You smiled when Haechan looped an arm around your waist, almost like he could sense your whirlwind of feelings.
Some dancing and singing at the top of your lungs later and your worries were promptly forgotten. Chaewon, Winter, and Ryujin danced with you while the boys were laughing in their own circle. The whole room was entirely too chaotic and Haechan’s parents escorted themselves out minutes ago.
Now it was time for the kids to really party.
Mark, under the impression that this party was just a small get-together for friends who didn’t get to see each other often, glanced at you and asked, “Okay, rum, tequila, or vodka?”
You winced. “Oh, no. I can’t.”
Mark gaped. “What? I’m on tour for a few months and now you don’t drink?”
“Yeah, um, about that,” you said, gesturing for Haechan to cut down the music. “I have something to tell you guys.”
“You’re taking care of your acne? You’re breaking out more than usual,” Mark blurted without malice.
Haechan cocked him a glare, deadpanning, “You know, Mark, it amazes me how you can always be so close yet so far away.”
Everyone was gazing at you with baffled looks. Then, you set your hand on your stomach, and it clicked. Mark gasped, “Don’t tell me…”
“I’m pregnant,” you announced, giggling when Haechan curled his arms around your waist as he hugged you from behind.
He was quick to correct, “We’re pregnant.”
“Yes,” you said with a chuckle. “We’re pregnant.”
The nerves were back with a vengeance. You knew they were all going to have distinct reactions and the anticipation was killing you. You thought they might have chided you for being stupid.
As it turned out, there was a chorus of excited noises and “congratulations” that you could hardly make out. Everybody was trying to speak over each other and you had to add, “Okay, one at a time. Please.”
Chaewon wasn’t shocked, almost like she expected it to happen, but had her hands on her hips in her typical fashion. “I’m your best friend and you didn’t tell me you were pregnant?”
You winced. “Sorry.” Expected backlash, you thought.
“It’s okay,” she said, shoving Haechan out of the way to pull you in for a hug. Much to his annoyance. “I’m so happy for you.”
You chuckled at the sound of Haechan huffing from beside you. “Thanks.”
Mark was next. There were literal twinkles in his eyes. “I’m going to be an uncle?”
“Absolutely. Your niece and nephew are going to love you,” you retorted happily.
Winter gasped, “You’re having twins?”
You bobbed your head. “Yes. One girl, one boy. We both wanted different things so I guess that was the universe’s way of being a diplomat.”
Winter snorted in amusement. She could already guess what your preferences were. “Oh, wow. Congratulations. Jaemin and I definitely aren’t having kids, so I’m cool with being the rich auntie.”
“Mm, three rich aunties. They’re going to be so lucky,” you dragged.
Haechan droned, “And extremely spoiled.”
You giggled.
Sunwoo and Ryujin walked up to you. Ryujin was staring at you in adoration. “Have you painted the nursery? If not, can I please help?”
That was an absolute no-brainer. “We haven’t done a lot of things. We need as much help as we can get.”
Sunwoo glanced between you and Haechan and said, “Congratulations.”
“Thanks, man,” Haechan said, holding out his hand.
Sunwoo firmly shook your boyfriend’s hand. Then, he looked to Ryujin, parting his lips to speak, and she snapped with a shake of her head, “Nope. Never.”
Sunwoo frowned.
You giggled. It didn’t take a genius to understand he was about to ask her about having kids someday.
Jaemin looked like he couldn’t believe his ears. Though, he had to admit it made sense. You and Haechan just couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. “You’re pregnant?”
“Very.”
“Wow,” he replied, shaking his head in disbelief. “And I thought we had enough Haechan walking around.”
“Dude, I’ll kick your ass,” Haechan hissed.
Jaemin threw up his hands in a gesture of innocence. “Kick my ass after the party’s over.”
Winter wandered over again, a drink in her hand, and quipped, “You know, this whole time I thought you were going to get Haechan pregnant.”
That got a giggle out of you. “No worries. I’m gonna peg him tonight.”
Haechan was smiling so hard his cheeks hurt.
While you went to go find Chaewon and whisper something in her that made a smile crawl its way onto her lips, Haechan and Jaemin excused themselves from the room for a minute.
The garage was hot and stuffy, a stark contrast from the ventilated and free energy of the party, but it was the perfect place to have a private conversation ideally without any unwanted listeners.
Haechan mounted one of his dad’s old bikes (his father was still an avid bike fan no matter how long it had been since he rode one). He wasn’t going anywhere, but he needed a distraction.
Holding a beer, Jaemin nudged his best friend and asked, “You don’t want a drink?”
“No, I can’t,” Haechan replied, voice distant.
Suit yourself, Jaemin thought. Then, thinking back to something you said, he teased, “Guess she was serious about that pegging shit, huh?”
Haechan snapped, “Do I ask you how you’re fucking Winter?”
Jaemin made a face before downing what was left of his beer. “Good point, my friend.”
Haechan was obviously in his head, which meant nothing good. As always. He wasn’t unhappy - the opposite, rather - but this was one of those days where everything felt unreal.
If there was anything he knew, it was that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. His little voice in his head snapped, Damn eighteen fucking years. You were his until he died.
The silence was getting off-putting, thus Jaemin started, “So, a baby.”
“Yeah,” Haechan answered blankly. It was almost like he wasn’t ever there. His surroundings be damned.
Jaemin was officially miffed. “You wanted to come out here to talk to me about something, man. Open up, brother. What’s on your mind?”
Haechan shook his head. He was in desperate need of direction. He huffed, “I don’t know, bro. I’ve never felt shit like this before.”
That piqued Jaemin’s attention. All he could think of was how badly his brother in everything but blood needed a drink or a cigarette, though he correctly assumed he was abstaining for your sake. “Like what?”
“That’s the thing. I can’t explain it. I mean, I put a baby in her,” Haechan started, conflicted. “Two babies. You know that we wavered a long time before she decided that she wanted to keep them?”
“Well, I do now.”
Haechan’s features were tensed in his typical pensive gaze. “I support her regardless of what her decision would have been, and I made sure she knew that, but I was secretly hoping that she wanted to keep it. Because I realized what I wanted.”
Jaemin prompted, “What do you want?”
“Everything. I wanna do the whole nine. I wanna start a family with her. I wanna pick up the kids after school. Make the three of them breakfast in the morning. I wanna spend every second of my life next to her. When I die, I want to be buried next to her grave.”
Jaemin tilted his head with suspicion. “Haechan, do you wanna marry her?”
“Yeah. I wanna marry her,” Haechan answered. He was finally confirming it - aloud. “Is it too soon?”
“That’s not for me to decide,” Jaemin said kindly.
Haechan sighed.
Jaemin gave him a pat to the shoulder and added, “Hey, bro. The worst she can say is ‘no.’”
There was a war-waging storm inside of Haechan. He was prepared to kiss the ground that you walked on. “She’s the mother of my babies…,” he trailed.
Though Haechan tried to blink his tears away, his emotions and love for his family was too goddamn strong. His heart beated for the three of you. This paternal responsibility added a brand new meaning to his life. A different purpose.
Jaemin noticed his best friend’s tears and immediately opened his arms. “Dude, come here.”
Haechan marched over and let Jaemin sweep him into a borderline aggressive hug. There was thunder in his heart and he could feel it shaking everything he’d ever known. This kind of euphoria was foreign to him, but he never wanted it to stop.
When he pulled back, Haechan wiped his face and muttered, “Don’t tell them I cried.”
Jaemin snickered, patting his friend on the back. “Don’t worry, man. I got you for life. Your secret’s safe with me.”
Haechan blew out a shaky breath. “By the way, my girlfriend and I talked, and we decided that we want you to be the godfather.”
Jaemin pointed to himself with his finger. “Me? Why not Mark? What do I know about god?”
Haechan snickered. “Think of it as being the highest ranking uncle.”
“I like that. Uncle Jaemin. It’s got a nice ring to it,” Jaemin replied, nodding with approval.
“What about Dad?”
Jaemin grimaced. “That’s not funny. I have nightmares about that.”
Haechan laughed.
As soon as that was over, Haechan and Jaemin slipped back into the party so naturally it was almost as if nothing ever happened. He found you sipping on an iced tea in an attempt to quench your thirst.
You cocked a brow at him. “Everything okay?”
Haechan bobbed his head. Then, he stole your glass out of your hands and took a sip, much to your annoyance. “Yeah. Why?”
“Just asking,” you replied, snatching your drink back.
Tempted to giggle, Haechan held it back when a thought crossed his mind. “I’m not having second thoughts.”
“I know.” You also knew his secret, familiarized with the little gleam in his stare, though you decided against mentioning it.
Haechan grinned, taking your available hand in his, and asked, “Wanna dance?”
“I was wondering when you would ask,” you retorted, setting down your glass and leading him to the center of the floor.
Heat fluttered in your chest when you felt Haechan get closer to you. With his hands at your hips and yours at his shoulders the two of you started to sway around the floor, earning a number of exhilarated noises from your friends in the room.
But it still felt like it was just you two, like it did all those years ago when you realized for the first time that there was something so different about him. For lack of a better word, he was just so mesmerizing. You remembered wanting to know everything there was about him.
Bliss made you close your eyes and make a wish to the stars, hoping for an eternity with the man you loved and the life you made together as partners.
From the corner of your eye, you noticed Sunwoo excuse himself from this fascinatingly beautiful moment to accept a phone call. Not that you minded. You were entranced in that moment and everything else had little consequence. Your heart was dancing inside your chest and on the floor.
Haechan pressed a kiss to your brow, looking at you with total undeniable affection. His eyes were sparkling again though not with tears - with adoration. This man would steal the moon for you and then proceed to wish on every star for a thousand more moons to gift you.
Only if he knew that there was an impending danger he should’ve wished away.
Sunwoo entered the room again and walked towards the two of you, which made you both stop and curiously gaze at him before he said, “It’s for you.”
You were baffled. “Who is it?”
“Jeno.”
Haechan’s face paled.
Without thinking, you took the phone and pressed it to your ear, then said less than amicably, “Hello?”
Jeno’s voice was quick to fill your ears, an air of surprise to his tone when he spoke your name. “Hey. Don’t hang up, please.”
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t,” you hissed.
The room was silent while you talked. The music was cut again and everybody’s eyes were fixed to you, watching this phone call unfold with interest. Nobody dared to say a word, but the disdainful feelings were pretty much obvious. The anger in Haechan���s eyes almost matched the ire in yours.
“Because I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” you repeated. “That’s all you have to say?”
Jeno sighed from wherever the hell he was. “Listen, I want to talk, but I don’t want to have this conversation over the phone. I was thinking maybe we could meet up somewhere.”
“Just a second,” you replied, handing Sunwoo back his phone while you dragged Haechan over to a corner.
Judging from the mere force of your actions, you were clearly upset and it didn’t take a genius to point that out. Haechan was ready to pummel this guy to the ground for your sake. “What happened? What did he say?”
“He wants to meet up. I guess he wants to apologize,” you whispered.
Haechan exclaimed, “What?”
You put your finger to his lip. “He said that he was sorry.”
Frustration made Haechan cross his arms with a mean-looking scowl on his lips as he huffed, “And you want to entertain this fool?”
You shrugged. You were obviously angry and feigning indifference, covered head to toe in unadulterated rage, but there was something in you that wanted to give Jeno the benefit of the doubt. “Call it curiosity. But I’m not going out pregnant. I’m not ready for the world to know yet.”
“Okay, so I go.”
You had already thought of that, pondering all your options in a five-minute time span, but quickly responded, “Yeah, but I kind of wanna be there when shit goes down. How about we invite him over?”
Haechan was seething. “You want to invite him over to the house where we’re going to raise our son and daughter?”
“We need a bigger house anyways,” you answered flatly, exhaling a breath.
“Bigger than ours?”
“Bigger than ours.”
Haechan frowned for a moment, though after a moment or two of contemplation, he relented. “Fine. But I want to do all the negotiating.”
You bobbed your head. “Fair.”
Haechan politely asked Sunwoo for his phone again, then switched on a dime when he spoke sharply, “Hello?”
Neither of you could see the way Jeno’s eyes flickered with shock. “Haechan.”
Haechan snapped, “Don’t give me that shit, man. Did you change your number?”
Jeno faltered with confusion. “No?”
“Good. I’m going to text you our address. You’re going to be at our front door step tomorrow afternoon at two o’clock sharp or else you’ll be turned away at the door. And you better tell me something I want to hear or I’m kicking your ass.”
There was a lull of silence as Jeno processed those words.
Haechan immediately added, “Got it?”
“Got it.”
“Goodbye,” Haechan said, promptly hanging up the phone and returning it to its owner.
Mark was not shockingly the first to speak. “That was… intense.”
You shrugged. “I thought it was hot.”
“Of course, you did,” Mark teased.
Haechan shook his head. It felt like the more the days passed, the more there was on his mind.
Regardless of unfortunate events, you refused to allow them to ruin the celebration. Assertively, you demanded that somebody put the music back on and encouraged your boyfriend to bust a move. Socializing and having fun was the quickest way to make him forget the unforgettable.
Even though you were less expressive in your contempt, it obviously put you at unease as well and you were also in fine need of an effective distraction. A drink would have been nice for knocking back inhibition, but you’d resigned yourself to the fact that you had months before that was a viable solution.
Plus something that you learned as you bordered closer onto your thirties was the significance of letting loose without the need for recreational use. There was something more special about bonding sober.
Priorities shifted. Like how you were steadily beginning to value your personal life over your career and image. When you were in your early twenties, everything felt more life-and-death than it was. Now, the most pivotal moment of your life would be successfully giving birth.
Later that night, those were the thoughts battling in your mind until noon that day. It seemed like every day you were making changes in your day-to-day routines to accommodate your new life. Changes that you were so certain at one point would feel like the end.
You knew now it wasn’t anywhere close to the end. If anything, it was a new beginning and a transition to a new stage of your life. You were standing at the threshold of parenthood.
That wasn’t to say you were going to remain indoors for the rest of your life until you wilted and succumbed to eventual fate. Or become a housewife and die, as Haechan had humorously put it. Granted, you realized how vital it was to be a little more laid-back and would undoubtedly shelter your children, but you were already fantasizing about sending the kids to the grandparents for a fun night out.
You wondered if Jeno had changed. All things considered. He was older, too, and closer to Haechan’s age than he was yours. Though five years didn’t seem like too long ago, you had seen a quantity of things occur in that time.
And you weren’t just talking career-wise, though that technically helped your case. You were in no way a stranger to the upward spiral of Jeno’s career. Like you, he had a successful career in the fashion industry, walking down runways and posing for big shot photographers.
On more than one occasion, you’d been invited to events at the same time, though you had considered yourself lucky to not have any face-to-face encounters with him and simultaneously practiced your professional skills if it inevitably were to happen.
Maybe it was for the better. A way to prepare you for the hell that was today. Still, you couldn’t deny being anxious as you lounged on your couch.
Checking your watch and noting that it was a minute before two, you exhaled, “What if he just doesn’t show up?”
Not a moment later, the doorbell rang. Oh, you thought to yourself. He’s always been punctual.
“You have your answer,” Haechan droned.
You took three stabilizing breaths when you watched Haechan leave the room to answer the front door. Maybe you should have let him take care of this. No, chided the voice in your head. This is both of your history. He shouldn’t go through this alone.
Especially not when he was evidently opposed to it and only agreed because it was what you wanted.
There was a disturbance in your brain when you saw Haechan round the corner and return with Jeno. This guy had essentially been off of your radar for so long that it was jarring to be confronted with the fact that he wasn’t a figment of your imagination.
Jeno spoke your name. “Hi.”
You waved. As of this second, you didn’t have anything to say to him.
“You can sit,” Haechan said when he sat next to you on the loveseat. He sounded bored.
Jeno perched on the chair across from you, fumbling with his hands. You didn’t know Jeno for as long as Haechan had, but you still had never seen him anxious.
You scanned your memory for any recollection of him being anything other than cocky and confident and ultimately turned up empty. His raging ego and dilated pride was his vice and had cost him more than you’d ever known.
Impatiently, Haechan prompted, “Well, are you here to twiddle your thumbs or…”
Normally, you would pinch his thigh for rude comments, but today he had a free pass.
Jeno lifted his head to meet both of your eyes when he finally started, “I’ve spent six months trying to practice what I would say if I ever got the chance to apologize.”
Both you and Haechan had your arms folded, stubborn. Save for the unignorable vexation, your faces were borderline inscrutable. He picked the wrong duo to fuck over. The two of you were unrelenting.
Jeno let out a little sigh and promptly continued, “I say six months, because it took me four years and a half to understand just how badly I fucked up. At first, it didn’t bother me that I lost seven friends on the same day. I was arrogant. I thought I didn’t need friends.”
You almost laughed. Almost. That much was obvious.
“And I had that mindset for a long, long time. There’s just something about when you’re super young and you feel like you have the whole world at your feet. Obviously, the popularity didn’t help. When I started to become famous, people wanted to hang out with me.”
“Yeah, that tends to happen,” you quipped smartly. “They see you’re the next big thing and they hold onto you because that’s what you’re there for. To be their one-way ticket to stardom. Then, when they get what they wanted, you’ve exhausted your purpose.”
“Yeah.” Jeno bobbed his head in agreement.
Haechan was not here to have a conversation about the brutal reality of being a superstar in the industry and his jaw clenched. “What made you realize that you fucked up?”
“What she said,” Jeno replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “This is a shallow job. Nobody was really my friend. I was either just their ride to fame or an accessory to make them look good. I realized how much I missed not only you two, but the whole gang, because you were the only people who cared about me beyond the surface.”
Haechan sighed.
Jeno’s voice got quieter. Not emotional, but dangerously close. “In our clique, it didn’t matter if you were on track to being a celebrity or just some guy. You know?”
“Yeah. I know.”
You frowned.
Haechan added, “So, you get lonely and decide you need us?”
“I know how that sounds, but…,” Jeno trailed. “But I’m sorry. I’m sorry for taking you for granted. I’m sorry for competing with you instead of being your friend.”
Haechan’s lips were in a hard line.
Jeno flitted his gaze towards you. “I’m sorry for using you. It was beyond fucked up.”
“To be fair, I was using you, too.”
Jeno bounced his leg against the ground, attempting to thwart his nerves. At the back of his mind, there were many unspoken thoughts. “Yeah, but you didn’t leave a woman in the street by herself. I still haven’t forgiven myself for that. If something happened to you, it would have been all my fault.”
Just the thought triggered something spiteful inside you. “I’m glad you realize that.”
Knowing you better than anybody, Haechan could sense the fire smoldering inside of you, slipping his fingers through yours and squeezing. “This has been… whatever, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You’re stressing my baby mother out.”
Jeno spluttered, “Baby?”
“Yeah. A baby.”
Jeno’s eyes flickered in shock. “Wow, um. That’s amazing. Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” you replied, tone completely noncommittal. “We’ll think about it.”
You watched Jeno bob his head and reply with a quiet “thank you” as your boyfriend stood to see him out. With how your brain was practically like a wildfire, it felt like the epitome of madness.
Haechan came back only a couple of moments later sporting a sour glower.
You relaxed when he sat next to you. You didn’t realize that you’d been so stiff. “Well, what do you think?”
“I don’t know,” Haechan lied without realizing, because his skepticism wouldn’t allow him to admit his true feelings.
Well, you knew exactly what you were thinking. “He seems genuine. I don’t think he has an ulterior motive. I mean, he’s doing great, he doesn’t need us.”
Haechan prompted, “But?”
You heaved a breath. Sometimes you hated that Haechan knew you so well. Better yet, he understood you perfectly.
“But I don’t forget as easily as I forgive,” you said quietly, drifting endlessly in your thoughts like spacetime.
Haechan huffed, “Me, neither.”
Without many uncomfortable amounts of stressful thoughts, your life went on. The world kept spinning no matter what you were going through and it did you no good to subject yourself to strain while you were carrying twins. Your doctor was clear that the risks associated with pregnancy grew with more than one child.
Your body was undergoing so much change that you didn’t even step outside because you didn’t want the world to know that you were pregnant until you announced it yourself. Given that it was your first pregnancy, you wanted it to be unforgettable.
The baby bump felt like it happened overnight. You couldn’t stop gawking at yourself in the mirror, in disbelief that there was something coming to life inside of you. They were starting to move around, too. You cried when you noticed the fluttering in your belly, almost like butterflies.
Every day you were counting down the seconds until the photoshoot until in a blink, the day had finally come. Haechan, the gentleman that you had fallen in love with, had everything set up at his studio and was rigid with the staff, though nonetheless polite. You were beaming. Not many opportunities arose for you to see him work behind the scenes and it was heartwarming to see him be so attuned to your needs.
It was one of the most fun and rewarding shoots you’d ever done in your life. And it would be the most noteworthy. The vibe was nothing less than ethereal and it was full of kisses and laughter. Haechan’s hands and lips on your belly. Holding your hand while you looked into each other’s eyes with the utmost adoration.
Holding the physical pictures between your own fingers, you sobbed. You were very emotional these days and half expected Haechan to poke fun at you, but he never did. He was the same way, passionate about the undying love he had for you and your unborn children.
There were a couple of pictures that you didn’t release to the public. Those were just for you and your loved ones. They were more vulnerable, sentimental pictures where you and Haechan couldn’t but stare at each other with a tearful gaze.
The moment of truth, came the little voice in the back of your head while your finger wavered over the share button. Half of you wanted to hand your phone over to your PR team, but it was important to you that you were the one to disclose.
You took a shaky breath just before pressing the button and tossed your phone to the side. What was said online wasn’t any of your concern. You didn’t want to know.
Outlets rushed to cough up the news. Your social media accounts were bursting with likes from people all over the globe. People you were friends with in the industry didn’t hesitate to call and congratulate you on the pleasant surprise. This wasn’t a secret anymore. Now that it was out there, it was everybody’s business.
When the deed was done, you chose to focus on yourself and the life surrounding you in every capacity rather than what was out of your hands, and made peace with the fact that public opinion was inevitable. What you could control, on the other hand, was how exposed you were to stranger’s thoughts.
The next few weeks were filled with yoga and child development textbooks. Haechan was taking pictures weekly to document your belly growth. He had already decided that he was going to start a photo album specifically for your children while they grew older.
You told him that you couldn’t think of a more beautiful idea.
One Friday came and brought a handful of errands along with itself. You were undoubtedly pregnant now, but not so much that you couldn’t complete tasks by yourself, though Haechan thought that that was debatable. He thought it was ridiculous that anyone expected you to do anything and upheld that you deserved princess treatment.
But you had a medical opinion that said staying active during pregnancy was beneficial for you and the babies, and Haechan resigned himself to defeat.
Apparently, the universe wasn’t in your favor, because your car started to have complications. First, the sunroof vehemently refused to open. Then, like a total drama queen, your car decided that she didn’t want to start.
The most exasperated breath escaped your mouth. You didn’t know the first thing about getting a stubborn vehicle to start and you knew Haechan didn’t either. Besides, not only did you not want to disturb him while he was working, but you were equally stubborn and wanted to prove that you were capable of handling yourself.
Out of options, you had a really, really bad idea.
Something unfamiliar stirred in your gut when you pressed your phone to ear, hearing it ring. Anxiety. Or maybe it was something else. Something unidentifiable.
Jeno sounded a little startled when he spoke, as if he thought you called him by accident. “Hello?”
“Hi, Jeno,” you said less than enthusiastically, rubbing your forearm. “I’ve got a serious favor to ask.”
Though you couldn’t see, Jeno perked up at those words. He was completely desperate. “Yeah, sure. Anything. What’s up?”
Providing a little humor, you replied, “Assuming that you actually know how to work on cars and that wasn’t a lie to impress me, my car kind of won’t start and trying to guilt trip her into functioning doesn’t seem to be effective.”
Jeno snorted. “Did you check the battery?”
You almost started to panic. “No. Was I supposed to?”
“Uh, how about this. If you want, I can come check it out,” Jeno suggested, then immediately regretted the decision. He didn’t want to try and insert himself into your lives too quickly. “But only if you want me to.”
That wasn’t the best idea, considering your boyfriend was intent to hate Jeno’s guts and would not approve of him standing in his garage alone with his baby mother, but your options were already few, so you replied, “That’s fine. You know where I am.”
“I’m on the way,” Jeno said. You could hear him shuffling around in the background.
“Okay. See you soon.”
You hung up without giving him a chance to respond and released an uncertain breath. Don’t make me regret this.
Waiting with bated breath and folded arms, your gaze upturned some thirty minutes later when you heard a blue Mercedes Benz turning into your driveway.
And then Jeno started to walk over to you.
“Hey, sorry I couldn’t make it sooner. Traffic is crazy today,” Jeno said when he stopped just shy of your toes.
You waved him off. “You’re good. Thirty minutes isn’t bad for California traffic. Thanks for coming over.”
“No problem,” Jeno replied. He didn’t waste much time on small talk, getting straight to what you called him over for. “Let’s see what’s wrong with this bad boy.”
“Her name is Mariposa,” you corrected, but your tone wasn’t malicious.
Jeno threw his hands up. “Where’s my manners? I should’ve asked. Sorry if I offended you, Mariposa.”
You snickered. “Don’t apologize to her. She’s caused enough trouble today.”
Jeno chuckled.
While you kept yourself occupied in the corner, not wanting to disturb Jeno as he tried to figure out why your car was acting like a bitch, his brain was totally divided. Half was focused on thoroughly examining your car, while the other was hooked on the fact you remembered something he told you five years ago at dinner.
Jeno was pondering, hoping. Maybe you just had a good memory, especially when it was convenient, but he hoped that someday, there would be room for him again in your lives.
Even if he had to spend years proving that he was worthy.
Jeno separated himself from the lifted hood of your car, dusting his hands off. Your eyes were stuck on him with gut-eating anticipation. “Looks like your alternator is weakening. Smells like burned wires and the serpentine belt smells like smoke. Your engine’s probably leaking.”
“English, please.”
“Your alternator’s not alternating and your shit’s fucked,” Jeno replied, blunt.
“Oh.” That certainly wasn’t what you wanted to hear.
“Don’t worry. The good news is that it’s nothing that can’t be fixed,” Jeno reassured, pushing the lid back down. “The bad news is that I don’t have the tools to work on it for you.”
You ran a hand through your hair. “Guess I should call a mechanic.”
Jeno bobbed his head. “That would be a good start.”
You were anxious to ask, but did it anyway, “If it’s not too much trouble, would you mind hanging around? One look at my neighborhood and the obvious fact that I don’t know a damn thing about cars, and anyone would try to scam me out of more money than I need to spend.”
“Yeah, of course,” Jeno replied, dipping his hands in his pockets. “But, uh… won’t Haechan mind?”
You snorted. That was an understatement. “Oh, definitely, but his vehicle knowledge starts with one wheel and rides with two. I don’t think he has a say in this.”
Jeno snickered.
The mechanic came half an hour later and you let Jeno handle the bulk of the talking, only chiming in when the guy asked specific questions like how long you’d been experiencing complications with your car.
Between the mechanic peeking under the hood and Jeno pointing out to him your car’s tenaciousness, you understood enough of their exchange to know that fixing her would take a solid two hours. Unfortunately, this guy was stretched thin, meaning he would have to tow it back to his shop and have you pick it up tomorrow.
“This day cannot get any worse,” you grumbled underneath your breath.
Jeno was frustrated for you and it wasn’t even his car acting a damn fool. After he seemed to hesitate a little, he asked, “Will Haechan be back soon?”
“Nope. He had most of his hours cut, but apparently there was a really huge crisis at his job. It’s going to be another hour or two.”
“Dammit,” Jeno groaned. “Well, if you want me to, I wouldn’t mind driving. You seem really stressed and that’s not healthy for the babies. I mean, obviously you know that, but...”
His nervousness was not lost on you and you resisted a chuckle, interjecting, “Jeno, I would really appreciate the help.”
“Okay, cool,” Jeno said, whipping his keys out of his pockets and tossing them in the air. “Where to?”
Gently helping you get into his car, Jeno made sure that you were safe and comfortable before he took the driver’s seat and braced his hands on the wheel. He was certain that your lover would have his head on a stick for driving you around without his knowledge, but he had a moral obligation not to leave pregnant ladies under tension.
Besides, he had to prove his loyalty somehow. It didn’t matter how much Jeno insisted that he’d changed. Neither you or Haechan would be convinced until there were no doubts.
Your head was against the door, temporarily appreciating the air conditioning until you just couldn’t take the silence, asking, “So, how’s life? Last time we spoke, you were talking about people being shallow.”
Jeno nodded his head quietly. “I’ve been scared of meeting new people. I have a few friends. Other than that, I have my family and girlfriend.”
Your brows furrowed. That was new. “Girlfriend? Congratulations. I didn’t know.”
“Thank you,” Jeno replied, heat rapidly flushing his cheeks. “She’s the one that encouraged me to apologize. Even if you guys still hated me in the end, she said it would be good to get it off my chest.”
That was interesting. Nobody saw the day coming where Jeno of all people would choose commitment. “Is she in the industry?”
“No, she’s actually a banker,” Jeno replied, chuckling.
“Really? How did your paths cross?”
“It’s a long story,” Jeno said, but you could see his eyes sparkling with happiness. He must’ve really liked her.
Pointing to the road in front of you, staring at the red light glaring back at you both, you shrugged your shoulders. “We’ve got a long day.”
For the duration of the total ride, in between stops, you chatted with Jeno to pass the time. It wasn’t the easiest thing to relax around each other, each for your own reasons, but you managed. And truth be told, it wasn’t all too bad.
Your chronic cynicism was the only thing standing in the way of your forgiveness. But Jeno had no apparent reason to drive you around and assist you with errands if it wasn’t simply out of the kindness of his heart. There was nothing that you could give him that he didn’t already have. Except maybe loyal companionship, but he’d already made it clear that he wasn’t lonely.
Only hours later did Jeno finally pull back into your driveway. Most of your errands just required having to speak with people, but noting that you were probably out of your favorite snacks again, you opted to head to a couple of stores. You also figured you would need some chocolate when it was time to placate Haechan after he realized you’d been with his worst enemy all day.
When you were home, Jeno refused to let you carry a single item. With your bags in his hand, he opened your front door and dropped your bags off in the kitchen.
The sound of his front door opening was all too familiar and it was no surprise that Haechan rushed downstairs, having returned only maybe half an hour before you, and chirped, “Baby, you’re home!”
You wrapped your arms around him. Haechan gently hugged you back, careful not to harm you. His warmth was appreciated, but remembering you had a little surprise, you pulled back. “Don’t get mad.”
Haechan gave you a look. “Why would I get mad?”
Surprisingly on cue, Jeno returned from the kitchen, trailing, “I put the food in the...”
Jeno and Haechan locked glances as it was like a deer crossing paths with a mountain lion. Though you could feel Haechan tense, rather than his hold slackening, it tightened. You could see the anger flickering onto his face within a blink. “What is he doing in our house?”
“I just said don’t get mad,” you groaned, winding a hand through your hair. You cocked your head towards Jeno and said to him, “Jeno, thank you for helping me out today. I owe you one.”
“No, you don’t. I’m endlessly indebted to you,” Jeno quipped, sticking his hands in his pockets.
“Damn right,” Haechan murmured under his breath.
Nudging him in the side, you ignored Haechan’s whine of pain. “Well, get home safe. Thank you again.”
“No problem. Have a good night,” Jeno said, seeing himself out.
“Get home safe?” Haechan repeated when Jeno disappeared.
You heaved a little breath and asked, “Do you want him to die or something?”
“Well…”
“Stop,” you hissed, breaking out of his arms and moving to a chair. “He really helped me out today. My car broke down and he came to check it out. Then, when the mechanic took my car, he volunteered to help me with my errands.”
Haechan followed behind you, confused. “What? Why is this my first time hearing about this?”
“Because you had a work emergency and it wasn’t worth interrupting you over. I can handle stuff by myself, you know.”
“I know you can, but…,”
“But you’d rather me call you than the guy that fucked you over, yeah, I know,” you huffed.
“You just finished my sentence.”
Your brows furrowed, wondering how that was in any way significant. “So?”
“So, this is going in the completely wrong direction,” Haechan said, cooling off for your sake. The last thing you needed was stress or a petulant baby daddy. “Let’s calm down and go upstairs.”
You opened your mouth to say something, anything to oppose him, but closed them when you realized you’d fallen short of things to say. “Fine.”
Haechan helped you to the bedroom. The stairs were definitely a problem lately, courtesy of the additional pressure on your uterus. You had to be extra careful coming up them now.
When you were sitting on your bed, Haechan quietly came beside you. You released a tiny breath, not pleased or disgruntled, but of the will to leave whatever just happened downstairs. It was to be expected.
After a minute of silence, Haechan finally said, “I’m sorry.”
You shook your head. “Don’t be.”
“No, I should be. You know I never want to make you feel like I think that you can’t do anything yourself. But I need you to know that I’m still there for you to lean on when you need me.”
Thankful that he was lying down, you lowered yourself to rest your head on his chest. Your lips were tugged into a faint smile. “Do you remember our first date?”
Haechan cocked brow. “The real one, or the unofficial first date?”
I still think the unofficial date was the real one, but whatever. Obviously, you would never say that aloud, because then it would spark the debate over what your actual first date was. You ignored his question and continued, “You said that you would never try to control me, because you’re a grown man and I’m a grown woman.”
“Have I?”
You answered bluntly, “No, you haven’t. That was five years ago, you know. I’m pregnant with our baby and even if I hate this next part, I have to depend on you a little more now.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I should make a sign-in sheet for everybody that enters your life,” Haechan said.
“Two things can be true at once.”
Haechan said nothing, because there was nothing that needed to be said. You were so similar. That was why your relationship worked. Both of you needed time to yourselves, but the fact you were having a baby together forced you to readjust.
It wasn’t just about what you or Haechan needed anymore. Your two babies would be entering the world any day now and they took precedence in your lives now. There would be difficult choices and there would be compromises. For both of you.
You found his fingers, blindly lacing your fingers through them. “I don’t forgive him, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Oh.”
You continued, “I think I probably will, eventually, but not yet. Not right now.”
“You said that I would rather you call me than the guy that fucked me over,” Haechan rewinded, squeezing your hand.
You made a face. “Yeah, I did, but I was irritated and I cut you off. It’s a bad habit that I still haven’t let go of. And it will probably happen again.”
Haechan snorted. “You weren’t wrong, but at the same time, I think I might forgive him too. Not right now, obviously, but eventually. Like you said.”
“Why?” You were confused. You saw how Haechan’s demeanor switched on a dime when he noticed Jeno was in his house.
“Because he helped you. And anyone that treats you respectfully without an ulterior motive is alright in my book.”
There was movement in your belly and it wasn’t the babies for once. It was the butterflies.
Haechan draped his other arm over you, smiling gently as his hand touched your belly. “By the way, is this a good time to mention that I have something to tell you?”
Your face tensed with curiosity. “You’ve already put it out there. Might as well cough it up.”
“Okay, well…,” Haechan started. His confidence seemed to be dissipating. “I was thinking that we should go on a babymoon before the kids get here.”
A single brow lifted from your face. “What?”
“Like a honeymoon, but it’s not a honeymoon. It’s a babymoon,” Haechan explained vaguely, sitting up in a way that meant he was serious.
“Okay, but wouldn’t we go on a babymoon after we had the baby?”
Haechan gave you a look. “Baby, do you really think that we're going to have that kind of time after the babies are born?”
When he put it like that, the concept made a little more sense. “Fair point. Where would we go though?”
Haechan shrugged. “I was thinking Florida, but of course I’m open to suggestions. This is an us thing.”
“Florida’s good with me,” you said without complaint.
“Then, Florida it is.”
Only two days later, you were on a plane to Florida with ample snacks and water. Haechan didn’t like to waste any time and you didn’t understand the point in waiting either. The clock was ticking and you were already in the third trimester.
Sure, it was a last-minute vacation, but you checked in with your doctors and after a few evaluations, they had little problem with you traveling through air for a couple of weeks.
Florida, specifically Miami, was ripe with obnoxiously hot weather in spite of the faded summer. December was similar in California, cheerful and sunny with occasional rain showers. Given that you were raised in the north, it was an exciting change of pace.
Which was why you were glaring at Haechan in disappointment when you watched him pull three sets of familiar black leather from his suitcase. Your arms were crossed. “Did you really need to pack three different leather jackets?”
“Yes, absolutely,” he said without hesitating. “Come on, babe, you love seeing me in black leather. It’s what made you fall for me.”
You mercilessly quipped, “Actually, I’m pretty sure that’s what made me turn you away.”
“Whatever,” Haechan retorted, pulling another leather jacket from his suitcase.
All you could do was shake your head. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear the same leather jacket twice.”
Haechan chuckled. “Now that’s an exaggeration. Besides, I need to have plenty to pass down to our kids. They’re gonna have to look extra cool when we go biking together. I can’t be seen with anything less.”
Your heart draped over your racing heart. “Haechan, you cannot take our kids on a motorcycle.”
“Of course not. Not with you knowing about it.”
Your heart was skipping. You were absolutely going to need to have a conversation with his mother. He’s definitely his father’s son.
“I was kidding. It was a joke,” Haechan said playfully, but the mischievousness in his countenance was obvious.
You rolled your eyes. “Sure it was.”
Whether it was or wasn’t, Haechan would never tell you. You would just have to cling to hope that he wouldn’t do something like that without your knowledge. Though you trusted him endlessly, the little snicker coming from his parted lips made you a little unsure.
Then, the vacation started, and you tried to keep your mind from drifting towards the aftermath of pregnancy. Well, as much as you could with the added pressure weighing down your every footstep. Haechan didn’t want to leave you out of his sight for the next two weeks lest something happened to you.
Though you weren’t due for another five weeks, he wasn’t taking any chances. He waited close by when he surprised you with a prenatal massage and always kept your phones charged in case of emergencies.
He’s going to be a wonderful father, spoke the smitten voice in your head in rhythm with your soaring heartbeat. He was vigilant, careful. You knew with total confidence that your children would be in the greatest of hands.
Still, in spite of your mutual worries, neither of you would allow them to stand in the way of your fun. He wandered around the beach with you, sticking your toes in hot sand and taking a dip in the water.
Sporting a two piece swimsuit, you felt somewhat self-conscious meandering just shy of the shore in front of so many people. Though you’d convinced yourself that you were doing a good job at hiding the truth, Haechan grabbed your hand and asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” It was an obvious lie, because you replied way too quickly.
Haechan’s steps slowed, cocking his head to look at you. “That’s a lie. You answered too fast. And you didn’t ask me why I asked.”
Your shoulders slumped in defeat. “It’s just… that I feel a little exposed.”
Even though that was vague as hell, Haechan knew exactly what you meant and he wouldn’t stand for it for even just a second. “Babe, you’re beautiful. That’ll never change, even if your body wil,” he said, stopping dead in his tracks.
Your eyes stung with tears. You’d been outside lately, but never this exposed. Never this far into your pregnancy. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t feel like this.”
Haechan shook his head. “Don’t you dare apologize to me. You can feel however the fuck you want. Just remember that I love you regardless of what you look like. And your body’s only changing to cater to the life we’re about to bring into the world.”
That reminder was all you needed. As long as you had Haechan’s love and enough of your own to supply your children, everything else ceased to matter.
For half a second, you thought about how tired he must’ve been of having to provide you reassurance, but you shooed the thought away. Everything Haechan did for you was because he cared. There were more than a handful of times where Haechan would randomly confess how gorgeous he thought you were and how much he loved you.
“Thank you,” you whispered.
Haechan set his arm at your backside. “You have nothing to thank me for. It’s the truth.”
“I know, but I don’t know how I would do any of this without you. You make everything easier. I feel like I can breathe as long as you’re with me.”
Haechan’s heart was unstill. He couldn’t imagine his life any other way. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” he confessed, the sound of his voice featherlight.
You wanted to test that theory. Mischievous, you squeezed his hand and leaned onto his shoulder, asking, “Would you rather go back to the room?”
What that meant was obvious to Haechan, but it still surprised him. Your sex drive wasn’t as active lately. And not only that, but he was too busy becoming a father to focus on his libido. “Would you be there?”
“I would do a lot more than that,” you retorted.
Haechan pressed, “But would you want to?”
“Babe, if I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have asked.”
Haechan nodded. It’s not like you were ever afraid to tell him what you wanted. Or what you didn’t want, for that matter. Plus it had been a lifetime since the two of you had sex, and he couldn’t blame you for wanting to get it in before exhaustion became the only thing that drew you to bed. “Say less.”
The walk back to those canopy chairs was eager. Haechan wanted to return to the room as quickly as he could, but patiently remained at your side.
After collecting your beach towels and rinsing off loose sand (as much as you could in public), you and Haechan walked side-to-side back to the hotel. The sight of your suite coming into view five minutes later made you release a shaky breath of relief.
You and Haechan locked lips almost the second you stood behind the door. Haechan couldn’t wait any longer; he was bursting. Ever since you introduced the idea some twenty minutes ago, all he could think about was putting his hands on you.
His hands were quick, loosening the string behind your back. Some weeks had passed since he touched you like this. Maybe a month. Now he was remembering what it was like to be caught in your path.
You separated yourself from him, exhaling, “Bed.”
Haechan grabbed you by the waist and guided you to the bed. When you were there, you climbed your own way up the mattress, with him following closely after. A hand crept into your bare chest and the other behind you, gently craning you onto your back.
Your lips connected again. Fire ascended over you, starting in your heart and stretching elsewhere. His lips were so pretty and kissable. Throwing your mouth against his and sucking on his tongue was something you simply never got bored of. You just couldn’t explain it.
Haechan pulled back again a couple of moments later, staring at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. “Better?” he asked, eyes sparkling with wonder.
“Mm-hm,” you sighed contentedly, lacing your fingers through his beautiful head of hair.
Haechan extended an arm down your calf, teasing the skin before cycling your legs into the air and ripping your panties almost right from underneath you. He so badly wanted to touch you everywhere, gnawing at his lip with an insatiable hunger. “I’ll never get tired of this,” Haechan said wantonly. “Tired of you.”
That was without question. You could feel his half-hard cock growing at the edge of your swollen thigh. Arousal shot through him like a firework and it would take little to nothing to get him excited.
Your heart throbbed in sync with your pussy and your leg, still in Haechan’s itching palms, tensed insatiably. There was nothing that turned you on like being wanted.
Wishing he would take off those stupid swim trunks, a dangerous thought wrecked through your brain and you asked, “Can I do something this time?”
“Not a chance.”
You snapped, “And why not?”
“Because it’s my responsibility to take care of you. And right now, I just wanna make sure you get wet enough to take my dick,” Haechan replied.
Your next best option was begging. “Please? I’ll get wet just from seeing your pretty face scrunch. Killing two birds with one stone.”
Haechan’s lips parted to turn you down, but he started to mull over your suggestion. Hope nipped at your heart, twinkling in your eyes. Blowjobs shouldn't've hurt the babies. And he knew you wouldn’t be able to lie on your back for very long anyway. “Fine. How do you wanna do this?”
You were beaming. With Haechan’s help, you kneeled on the mattress before crawling over to the edge of the bed. “I read something online. Let’s try you standing here while I lay on my side.”
Per your request, Haechan shifted to the edge of the bed, stepping out of his swim trunks where his dick was desperately poking around for attention.
You leaned onto your left side, excitement making your heart beat quicker. And your pussy throb, but you were happily focused on someone else right now. “Feel free to use my mouth.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Haechan said, though he would try not to.
Pressing your lips against his inner thighs, you brushed them over his skin, feeling his legs tense at your touch. So, so sensitive. You could only imagine what would happen when you sucked his cock into your mouth.
You reached out to grab a fistful of his cock, just after spitting into the palm of your hand, and started to pump him slowly. More often than not, you started off tentatively; you liked to tease him. There was no point in getting him off if you couldn’t see the irritability and desperation on his handsome face.
Haechan’s breath hitched. His cock was twitching. You seemed to always know what to do with your hands, in spite of the fact that you never let his cum too quickly. But you knew exactly how to wreck him.
“You don’t have to tease, you know,” he said, voice a little distant like he wasn’t even there.
“I know,” you replied offhandedly. “But I want to.” And I know you pretend not to like it.
Haechan huffed, but he was only half upset. Part of him liked when you had total, unmitigated control of his pleasure.
You didn’t release your grip on his stiffened cock when you’d had your fill of teasing him until you sucked the tip into your warm mouth. There was a breath on Haechan’s end, light and shaky, and you couldn’t wait to replicate it.
Your cheeks were hollowed. You were eager to take most of him down your throat, but were cautious about your pacing, given that it had been a minute since you sucked the soul out of Haechan. Even you were reluctant to give him head during the first trimester because of the morning sickness.
“Fuck,” Haechan whined shakily. He was remembering what you said about using your mouth even though he hated that the idea appealed to him.
Haechan’s fingers gripped the sheets, opting not to touch you in case he went too far. His face was tense with pleasure and those featherlight moans were like music to your ears. You took more of him, hopeful to throat every inch, and looked into his hazy eyes to watch as it broke him just the way you knew it would.
The heat was getting to be too much. His thoughts were racing by quicker than he could articulate them, all coming from his mouth being gentle sounds. But his head was saying, She’s going to be the death of me. And I’m okay with that.
Then, he couldn’t hold back any longer, and started to thrust into your mouth. Though there wasn’t any warning and you only half expected it, you somehow willed yourself to relax. It was so goddamn hot. Pretending that it was your cunt his stiff cock was fucking got you even wetter.
Even you were moaning and the vibrations shooting through his cock made the room whirl a little. And as if it couldn’t get any better, you pinched the skin of his thigh between your nails, plucking a lethal whine out of him. “That’s making me crazy, baby,” he exhaled, another groan escaping him when he met your stare.
You pressed your tongue flat against his shaft and Haechan swore he saw Michael Jackson looking down at him for a second. Please, was at the back of his throat, but he didn’t want to cum. Not right now. He wanted to cum when he was deep inside of you.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Stop,” he panted, blinking as if to clear the haze from his eyes.
You grinded to a halt when you heard those words and noticed him no longer fucking your mouth, wiping saliva from your lips with the back of your hand. Your cheeks hurt, but it was worth it. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t wanna cum,” Haechan said, gravel. “Not unless I’m inside you. And even then, I might nut too quick.”
You waved off his concern and replied, “It’s okay if you do. I might tap out soon.”
“Duly noted. What’s the plan?”
You beckoned Haechan forward with your hand, watching him creep closer. When he bent down to your level, you whispered something in his ear.
A few moments later, Haechan was behind you in the bed, your naked back flush against his bare chest. Your breaths were thick and rough while you became entrapped in his body’s warmth. Bending your knees, you counted down the seconds until he would be inside, holding your breath when he entered from behind you.
And you released it when Haechan grunted at the squeeze of your vice-like cunt upon the first couple of thrusts. You were soaked, just like you said. Getting him off must’ve really done a number.
His voice was so close to your ear, closer than you thought. “You know the drill, baby. Tell me if you can’t take it.”
You nodded. It was all you could do not to splinter then and there.
Haechan was tentatively prodding, slow. He was careful not to do you any harm, because if he did, he’d never forgive himself. Luckily enough, what you were feeling was far from painful. With every inch he reluctantly pushed into you, your head was deeper into the clouds.
There was nothing like being skin to skin with your lover, heart to heart. That was the better half of the appeal when it came to sex nowadays. Pleasure was seeked by the togetherness of intimacy, less than the emphasis of orgasm.
But he certainly still knew how to get you there.
“You always feel so good,” you moaned, stretching your hand to reach his forearm. This whole trip had been nothing short of romantic thus far.
Something about your praise made all of the blood flow to Haechan’s dick, heavy and quick. “You ready for me?”
“Mm-hm. Move, baby,” you whispered, knowing he was testing the waters. “Just relax. You’re not going to break me, I promise.”
Haechan acknowledged your consent with the quietest of sounds, starting to pace himself in and out. His rhythm was steady, but none too rough. It was loving.
It tickled when his lips grazed the back of your throat in a litter of kisses, breathless giggles escaping you. Wheeling your head, you turned to give him a peck on the mouth, watching the smile coax its way onto Haechan’s face. He has the prettiest smile ever. And I’ll do anything to protect it.
Anything and everything. It was no secret that Haechan doubted himself sometimes. He rarely spoke to you about it, not wanting to lump his feelings on top of yours because he thought yours were more significant, given that you were the one bringing these children to life. But you wish he knew how incredible he was to you.
Though you never failed to remind him. Even now, just looking into his eyes with total adoration, Haechan couldn’t understand. He wanted to see himself the way that you saw him. Thanks to your relentlessness, he was getting a little closer.
Reaching out to touch his cheek, you whispered, “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone as much as I want you.”
“Fuck,” Haechan groaned, like those words alone would be the death of him. Which wasn’t too far from the truth.
You playfully teased, “You always say the most romantic things.”
Haechan’s face flushed, but those explicatives were at the tip of his tongue. When he was deep inside you like this, his hands cupping your hips, it couldn’t be helped. “That’s funny. I was about to say the same thing,” he lied, losing himself with every sweet thrust.
Your lips parted in a laugh, but it was cut off by a moan. Between the sight and sound, Haechan couldn’t tell which was better. Watching you burst with rapture turned him on. Listening to you burst with rapture turned him on. You turned him on.
All you could feel was ecstasy. It had been said, but the whole world stopped when you were alone with Haechan and it didn’t affect you. When he was fucking all the stress out of your body, in spite of the heat scorching down your skin, you could somehow breathe.
You faced away from him again, eyes fluttered closed. You were imagining him, even though he was right behind you. There was no space between your bodies and sometimes it was as if you were one person. Like you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began.
Which was ironic. Your first encounter wasn’t so long ago, even if it felt like a lifetime had passed since then. You still vividly recalled wanting nothing to do with him.
Yet here you were. Carrying his baby, his offspring. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Haechan extended his hand over your lower stomach, reaching out to touch your clit. Your reaction was instant. You gasped, elevating to highs you never knew were in reach. Sex hit different knowing the extremes you were capable of when Haechan was giving himself to you completely.
“I’m so close, baby,” Haechan warned. He could feel it approaching, but it didn’t matter to him if he didn’t cum either.
That excited you. Your core throbbed and you purred, “Give it to me, baby boy. Cum inside of me.”
“Don’t say it like that,” Haechan told you, coming up on the edge. He rocked into you harder, wincing his eyes closed.
You didn’t skip a beat. “Why? Too afraid you’re gonna bust a nut?”
When Haechan said nothing, you grinned to yourself. Then, his other hand came to your boobs, gently touching your nipples. You sighed out, breathless.
Now it was you unraveling. Like clockwork, your back started to arch away from him, your body too stimulated from his hands on your nipple and clit. It just felt so good - the whole room started to spin.
Moving your hair out of the way, Haechan leaned even closer to you. If possible. You were obsessed with his mouth nipping at the shell of your ear. Voice at the back of your neck. “You’re gonna be a great mother. I can feel that you are,” he said, breath tickling your neck.
You whimpered, listening to his gentle tone factored with the hot sound of sex thumping throughout the room.
“Our kids are going to love you from the moment that they lie on your chest and get to see you. They’ll grow up lucky that they get to call you their mother, because even before they were born, you’ve done nothing but your best to care for and nurture them.”
“Haechan…,” you trailed. Your eyes watered.
Haechan added, “And I’ll be there, proud as ever. Because if there’s any woman that’s fit to raise a baby, it’s you.”
Only seconds ago you didn’t think you would be able to go any longer, sensing yourself on the brink of tapping out, but that spiral ripped it out of you. You shuddered with climax, shifting away from his touch. The sweetest cry escaped you and you found his hand to anchor yourself through your orgasm.
That did it for Haechan in the end. He came just at a glimpse of you finishing on his cock, moaning your name darkly. Stifling his sounds into your shoulder. You milked his load out of him and Haechan swore it was mind-numbing to its core.
A moment passed before you each stilled. Sticky sweat connected your gleaming skin as you released open-mouthed exhales in an attempt to stabilize your breath. For a second, eyes fluttering, your brain was peacefully empty.
Minutes later, you cocked your head and squeaked, “I’m going to the bathroom. Just rest. You don’t need to follow me.”
Haechan nodded, finally pulling out of you. Something about times like this made his heart swell and his skin swelter. Those moments of silence after.
Wobbling inside the bathroom attached to your suite, you shut the door behind yourself, in spite of knowing Haechan would probably come in a minute or two. There was a gigantic smile on your face. Finding somebody that cared about you so much was a blessing.
You meandered over to the toilet so that you could pee. Then, when you finished, you came to the sink to wash your hands of germs. The mirror in front of you was wide and tall. You stared at your reflection, letting out a contented little breath, and set your palms on your tummy.
As to be expected, Haechan’s voice sounded from behind the door when you didn’t return a couple of moments after he heard you flush. “Baby, are you good? Can I come in?”
You quipped, “Haven’t you come inside of enough things?”
Haechan snickered, twisting the knob. Very funny. He was pleasantly surprised to see you slowly rubbing a hand over your pregnant belly, softly smiling even if you didn’t realize that you were.
Haechan came up to you. Your heart quickened when you sensed his warmth behind you, kissing your shoulder. “Was I too much?”
You shook your head. “It was amazing. I didn’t think I would make it that far.”
“What can I say? I’ve never not blown a woman’s mind,” Haechan joked, lips brushing the back of your neck. A litter of love bruises were there.
You rolled your eyes. Then, you giggled.
It was silent for a little while. Both of you were too in awe to speak. With your focus drawn entirely to your children, it was all too easy to become paralyzed with adoration. And they weren’t even born yet.
Haechan’s hand came around your hip, dropping below your ribs. You could feel him hesitating - his body tensed against your skin - but he ultimately said, “Not to be that guy, but I’m kind of glad you’re taking a step back.”
“Really?” You knew that. His happiness was never not clear to you.
“Yeah, baby, I mean…,” he trailed, thinking. Longing. “Spending more time with you, bonding as a family has really changed me for the better, I think.”
I know what you mean, came your thoughts, but you just hummed. Haechan knew that you were listening. And you knew that he wanted to talk. Your fingers crept up his arm, reassuring.
Haechan’s mind was racing. Blaring. “Becoming a father hasn’t just changed my life. It’s changed the way I look at life. Life is short, baby. The most beautiful moments of life are short, but they’re meaningful, because I have you. And I’ve got to make that count.”
You shook your head. “We’ve got to make that count.”
Haechan nodded, chuckling. “Yes, you’re exactly right. This is a group effort.”
Your eyes lifted to look at him in the mirror, and you finally realized your lips were curled. “You’re gonna be a good father, you know,” you said levelly.
Haechan let his hands wander over your belly, running them gently over the flesh. There was a twinkle in his gaze and a beaming smile at his lips. “I can believe that now. And I owe all of the credit to you. I know what I want and who I am. You’ve made me see things from a different point of view.”
“Ironically, I feel the same way,” you said, finding some amusement in this moment of clarity. “It seems like only yesterday I was terrified of having a baby. I didn’t want things to change. The future was so scary.”
“And it’s not anymore?” Haechan asked.
“A little,” you confessed. “But knowing that I have you makes it easier. And knowing that our kids have someone like you, I can relax.”
“You know what they say. The best matches are people who bring out the best in each other.”
You bobbed your head. “Sometimes, I can’t tell if I grew because of you, or if I grew with you. But I think it’s both now. And now we get to do that for a lifetime.”
Yeah, I get that, Haechan thought. You don’t have a single clue, do you? Just how badly I wanna seal the deal, tie the knot. But I’ll take it one step at a time, because I know how you are. You’re slow and steady, baby. And I’m reckless and quick, but we make it work, because you know what you want. And so do I.
“Yes,” Haechan sighed happily. “Yes, we do.”
A quick tear escaped your eye, but you wiped it away. You were overwhelmed in the best way.
Haechan kissed your cheek, knowing all of your pleasures and your pains. And he kept them inside his heart in a vault. “I hope they have your eyes.”
Your brows furrowed in wonder. “I think our genes might be evenly distributed.”
“That is not how it works, baby.”
I know, but I want to have hope. It’s wishful thinking,” you replied, sighing.
Haechan chuckled. “Either way, they’ll be beautiful. And they have a handsome father and breathtaking mother to thank.”
“That’s so vain,” you retorted. But you didn’t disagree.
Haechan kneeled to the floor, sitting just shy of your stomach. His hands were still lovingly touching you. “Hi, son and daughter. It’s Daddy. I’m sure you’re sick of my voice by now, but that’s too bad. You have to deal with it for eighteen years.”
You shook your head, a stupid smile on your face. Your cheeks hurt. Somehow, you just couldn’t get enough of this boy.
“Mommy says that Daddy is vain. Can you believe that? Me, of all people, vain. I mean, if you look as good as me one day, you will be, too,” Haechan said exaggeratedly.
“Babe, be careful what you tell our kids,” you chastised.
“She’s scolding me now. Mommy can get scary when she’s angry, you know. You better not wind up on the receiving end of her wrath.”
You snorted.
“Anyways, all I really wanted to say is that Mommy and Daddy love you very much. We can’t wait to see you,” Haechan whispered. Your heart burst when he pressed his lips to your belly.
You just knew that he was the one for you.
The rest of the vacation - or babymoon as your babies’ daddy enthusiastically dubbed it - was a breeze. Before you knew it, you were on a flight back home. Beach air and rushing water was over. And California had never been more foreign.
Back in your own home, you spent your hours reminiscing in between yoga sessions. You were grateful that Jaehyun suggested the babymoon. It was a much needed period of relaxation to distract you from the looming disaster of childbirth.
And you were sitting just at its door. Because your pregnancy was considered high-risk and you were not inclined to have a c-section delivery, your doctor recommended labor induction. When you didn’t go into labor after twenty four hours, you started to feel unnerved.
You had nightmares about what would happen if things went wrong sometimes. Your doctor and childbirth educator made sure that the risks were outlined and clear. One wrong move and you could lose your kids, not to mention that anything could happen to you.
That was why Doctor Stakes wasn’t willing to risk natural birth. Having twins alone constituted a high-risk pregnancy and they were actively monitoring your babies positions to make sure they weren’t breech.
Haechan was restless, but he tried to keep it together for your sake. He called your name, hand in yours. “Baby, I can feel you tensing. Breathe,” he told you calmly.
Your voice trembled, “I’m scared.”
“I know. I am, too, but I’m right here with you. We can overcome anything as long as we’re together.”
You bobbed your head and sucked in a breath. Had he not been there with you, it would’ve been a hell of a lot scarier.
An eternity and a half seemed to pass before you finally went into labor. The contractions started at a distance and you likened them to the preparation trials you endured during the second trimester. Then, they were shorter apart, and the pain intensified so much it felt as if there was no air.
At the first nick of pain, you immediately pressed for an epidural. Your childbirth already wasn’t natural. And if they thought you would be able to do this without medication, they completely overestimated you.
It took fifteen minutes for a nurse to administer the epidural and another fifteen for the effects to settle in. Haechan never let go of your hand unless he absolutely needed to and he was staring at you with a newfound respect. And his respect for you was already in the heavens.
“This is crazy,” you wheezed, pulse quickened.
“It is,” Haechan agreed. “But you can do this. You’re stronger than I ever have been.”
You tugged your lips into a smile. “I’ve been thinking about us. Instead of the risks and stuff.”
That was a pretty good idea. Haechan said, “Talk to me. Tell me about it.”
“We got a new house, like I said. The kids are roughly five years old. They’re helping you make omelets because you know that I like them. There’s a cat. We let them name it. And I’m completely oblivious to what’s going on.”
Haechan snickered. That sounded like his offspring and he hadn’t even met them yet.
You added, “I thought about something else. There’s a private photoshoot. You’re the photographer, of course. The kids are in your leather jackets, but they’re oversized on them. The whole thing is so cute.”
Haechan kissed your cheek. His heart was thumping in his chest like a hammer and there was a sudden gush of warmth shooting through him. “I bet it is. I can see it playing out in my head right now. We should have a shoot like that one day. With all of us in black leather.”
You chuckled. It was tempting.
There was so much action in the room. People were moving from place to place to ensure that your babies were delivered safely. Your midwife assured you that the process was moving smoothly.
With that out in the open, you could breathe a little easier. Though you and Haechan still had no intention of separating from each other. The nurses would have to forcibly pry him away from you.
“It’s time to push,” came your midwife’s level voice.
The nurses were helping you realize when you needed to push. The movements felt like a distant pressure in your lower back, courtesy of the epidural. None of what was happening to you seemed real and all left to ground you in reality was the knowledge that it was really happening.
“This is happening,” you said shakily. “Oh my god. This is actually happening.”
Haechan uttered the dreaded words, “Babe, relax.”
“No! I’m never doing this again!” you snapped dramatically, overwhelmed with all the motion. “You need to get a vasectomy!”
Haechan took your outburst in stride. “I’ll do anything you want.”
“Fuck,” you exhaled, an invisible cool shiver running down your spine.
The first push alone was exhausting. You started to feel lightheaded and as if you would faint from the pressure. There was a lull of relief when the nurse permitted you to take a break to regain strength.
Tears stung your eyes. “I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can,” Haechan told you in a heartbeat.
Your confidence in yourself started to dissipate, but with your faithful partner and a dedicated team of medical staff reassuring you through the process, you forced the negativity out of your head and focused on your children.
“Another push,” your midwife urged.
You took one big, stabilizing breath before it was ripped out of your lungs again. Your legs had gone completely numb. There was still a slight degree of discomfort in your back that heightened a little with every push, but you winced your eyes closed and rid the thoughts.
“Breathe with me, baby,” Haechan said during the next break.
With what little strength you had, you nodded your head and followed his breathing patterns. Your heart seemed more tired than the rest of you as you physically shook. The blood was rushing through you to a painful degree.
You squeezed Haechan’s hand, which was what you had already been doing. His metacarpals were brave soldiers. “Tell me something.”
In typical Haechan fashion, he was cool as a cucumber. You would never guess that he was terrified for your life, but he pulled himself together. “Anything?”
“Yes. Anything.”
“When I was eleven, I wanted a leather jacket exactly like the black and red one Michael Jackson wore in Thriller,” he confessed. “Then, my mom got me one. And I hated it.”
Your brows furrowed. “Why?”
“It was black and orange.”
You snickered. Now you were thinking about an angry little Haechan being a sulky and petulant mess.
When it was time for the final shoves, you had just enough energy to will yourself to keep pushing. Your body was being put through the most gruesome test ever. But you kept the negativity to a minimum and thought only of your family for your own sanity.
And then it was done. There were loud whimpers. Your baby girl was given to you first, followed by your son. You couldn’t remember a time when you were more occupied with emotion.
Haechan gawked in awe. For a moment he couldn’t even believe that this wasn’t just a dream and fought off tears the best he could. You, on the other hand, couldn’t stop the tears blurring your vision. Your kids were here at last and they were the light of your life.
The first hour was spent making plenty of skin-to-skin contact and bonding with your babies. Haechan was smiling so hard that his cheeks hurt. He was already obsessed with the tiny little humans he’d helped make and all of your mutual sacrifice seemed so worth it.
There were many things that had to happen before you could leave the hospital, but two days later, you were at home resting. Sleep was all you wanted (even though your vocal children had other plans). Which, after the exhausting process you endured only days before, was well-deserved.
One week passed since you were discarded from the hospital. After a period spent catching up on rest to the best of your ability, you started to accept visitors. Chaewon and Jaemin, the wonderful godparents that they were, assisted with fielding phone calls and text messages from curious loved ones.
The mood in your home was different the day you and Haechan allowed visitors. Your bedroom was like a club and Haechan was serving as a bouncer, letting them in one-by-one in case you got overwhelmed.
Chaewon had seen the babies a little earlier than the others. She was your best friend, after all. “They’re so cute,” she’d gushed.
The babies in question were nested comfortably on your chest. They were also resting. There was a smile tugging at your lips, irresistible. Your heart was at peace.
Ironically, Mark was the first to show up. Again. “Yo, yo, yo. Where’s my niece and nephew?”
“Shh. They’re sleeping,” Haechan scolded from the door.
Mark’s eyes were wide, lips parted. “They must be sleepy, huh?”
You quipped, “Yeah. Apparently, wailing all night long is exhausting.”
“I was thinking they’d be tired of Haechan’s shit, but yeah, that checks out too,” Mark retorted.
Haechan cursed under his breath. Then, he said aloud, “If I wasn’t a better man, I would pummel you to the ground.”
“A better man, my ass,” Mark taunted. His words were promptly followed by a gasp and he put his hands over his mouth. “I meant… my butt.”
You giggled.
Mark switched on a dime. Concern washed over his face, tenderness in his eyes. “Dude, are you okay, though? Like, pregnancy is huge. It had to be eventful.”
“It was a lot of things,” you murmured, briefly bringing yourself back to that moment. You weren’t going to miss it too much, but it was beautiful. “I went through so many emotions. But I’m happy we’re all here.”
Mark bobbed his head. “Yeah, I am, too.”
When he exited the room, Winter promptly entered. And she gasped at the first sight of your babies, eyes dampening. “Oh my god!”
Her reaction made you snicker. “Yes, I know. They’re adorable.”
“Understatement of the year,” she drawled. “These are by far the cutest kids I’ve ever seen in my life.”
You grinned. “Thanks.”
Jaemin poked around the corner. Much like Chaewon, he had already seen your babies and spoken to them, cooing and babbling. “Somebody’s sleepy,” he retorted.
You bobbed your head. “They should be.”
Jaemin didn’t miss a beat, “Guess they got sick of putting up with this guy.”
Haechan’s eyes narrowed and he hissed, “You’re late. Mark already made that joke.”
Winter giggled. You stifled one on your boyfriend’s behalf.
There was a gap in between the next visits large enough for you to take a nap and you didn’t rouse until shortly before your fifth visitor.
f
As if it wasn’t obvious, you ignored Jeno’s nervousness. He looked a little surprised, lips parted when he caught a glimpse of your kids from the door. After he made small talk with Haechan, he entered and said, “Wow.”
Your babies were awake now. And surprisingly calm. For now. “I know.”
Jeno cleared his throat. “They’re beautiful. Congratulations, both of you.”
“Thank you,” you whispered, staring adoringly at your kids.
Jeno searched tirelessly for things to say. He didn’t want the wrong words to come out of his mouth, but you personally inviting him over shocked him. He asked, “How was labor?”
“Laborious,” you replied dryly.
Jeno snorted.
Haechan wasn’t shy to brag, “She was a champ. I’ve never been more proud.”
Your face was warm. And so was your heart.
“I’m sure she was,” Jeno said, gleaming.
You tilted your head. “Would you like to hold one of them?”
Jeno gawked. “Can I?”
You nodded.
“Okay. Yeah, sure,” Jeno stammered out.
Glancing down at your son, you cooed, “You wanna go to Uncle Jeno? Yeah?”
Shock flickered over Jeno’s face, as if he couldn’t believe the words leaving your mouth. With maternal cautiousness, you handed him your closest child, which happened to be your son. Jeno watched for his head without having to be instructed, holding your baby as if he would shatter.
These babies were a part of you and Haechan, and Jeno swore that if there was anything you ever needed him to do for them, he wouldn’t hesitate to come running.
“Hi,” Jeno greeted, smiling at your son. “You’re really lucky, you know. You have the best mom and dad on the whole planet.”
You smiled softly.
“Am I…,” Ryujin trailed, strolling down the hallway. Imagine her shock when she noticed Jeno standing there. “Late?”
Jeno cleared his throat. “Ryujin.”
Ryujin’s arms folded. “Jeno.”
“You look good,” Jeno said, mouth suddenly dry.
Ryujin was eyeing him, skeptical, as if she still didn’t trust him. But you could see the sadness in her stare. “You, too,” she replied quietly.
Jeno gently placed your son back in your arms, making sure he was secure before he released his grip.
“We forgive him, Ryujin,” Haechan said, even if it took months.
Ryujin’s eyes flickered. Jeno stepped in front of her and glanced at the floor. If there was something he wanted to tell her, he lacked the courage.
“Look me in the eyes.”
Jeno did it. He would do anything to make his mistakes up to the people he owed to.
Ryujin wrapped her arms around him. Jeno stiffened for a second, not expecting that of all reactions, but gently hugged her back. While they were reconciling, you and Haechan glanced at each other. There was a telepathic exchange of thought between the two of you.
Then, Ryujin pulled back, and whined, “Ugh, I just realized something. We’re uneven again.”
Haechan snorted in disbelief. Of course that was what she was worried about.
“Not if you include the kids plus Haechan and I’s future cat,” you quipped smartly.
Ryujin beamed in amusement. “I think I can work with that.”
Glancing down at your two lovely kids, the cutest of hats on their tiny little heads, you grinned and said, “Yeah, so do I.”
#lee haechan smut#haechan smut#nct dream smut#nct dream x reader#nct smut#nct 127 smut#nct x reader#nct imagines#nct scenarios#nct
633 notes
·
View notes
Text
A BOY'S FIRST PEST
Kaz Brekker x Reader
Summary - Kaz Brekker thinks Per Haskell's daughter is a (very lovely) pest
Warnings - fem!reader, traumatraumatrauma, the woes of troubled youth, light mentions of blood and death, these bitches trauma bonded yo, could deviate some from canon, based more on book!kaz than show, NOT EDITED WE DIE LIKE MEN
Word Count - 2.0k
!MINORS DNI!
// masterlist // send me your thoughts // comments & reblogs appreciated! //
Everyone knows Kaz Brekker put his own money into fixing up the Slat.
He hired men to patch the leaky roof (though it still drips during a heavy rain) and put proper insulation in the walls (which keeps the house warm enough, even if it does nothing to muffle the noise of its occupants). He had all the doors fitted with working knobs (but easily picked locks) and ensured the kitchen was capable of making a warm meal (even if seriously doubted any of the Dregs knew how to cook).
And while he would never admit it aloud, Kaz was also the one who made sure there were always clean linens in every room (albeit the cheapest Ketterdam has to offer) and spare clothes in every closet (sizes ranging from wafer-thin to barrel-chested). In keeping, he also takes it upon himself to keep the bathing room stocked with a steady supply of toiletries (because if someone uses his toothbrush again, he’s going to kill everyone in this place and then himself).
Because of Kaz Brekker, the Slat was more than just a safe place to hole up. It was a haven, the closest thing many of the Dregs had to a home.
But it did, of course, have one enduring problem.
The pests.
Or, namely, the one pest—one that he could never quite exterminate (though the spider privy to the inner-workings of Kaz Brekker’s mind might argue the merit of replacing ‘could never’ with ‘would never’).
Per Haskell’s very annoying (and very lovely) daughter.
In the midst of Ketterdam’s hottest season, you find yourself lying sprawled on your back atop the dark sheets, clad in the skimpiest nightclothes you own: a matching set of black silk shorts and flowy, thin-strapped camisole. The air is thick and near stifling in the attic-bedroom, but you don’t mind it. You prefer being hot to cold, if only because the heavy weight of winter clothes makes you feel trapped, eliciting the urge to crawl straight from your skin.
When the door finally swings open, you eagerly push up onto your elbows.
Kaz doesn’t so much as spare a glance in your direction. He’s got one hand on his cane, the other shoving the door shut behind him as he limps toward his desk, guided by the bright moonlight spilling in from the muggy window.
Your shoulders slump, huffing out a breath. “Seriously? You’re not even gonna greet me?”
With his back turned to you, Kaz removes his hat and places it on the desk. He doesn’t look at you. “You’re in my room.”
“Yeah—so I was actually thinking something more along the lines of hello,” you drone, lips pursed. “Y’know, that thing normal people say when they see their friends.”
“We’re not friends.”
A hand flies to your chest, as if struck by his words. “Um, ouch? Rude. For your sake, I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.”
Kaz tugs off his signature gloves and tosses them next to his hat. “I can always repeat it,” he says, so impassive you can’t tell if it’s a joke.
Knowing Kaz, you’re pretty sure it’s not.
You push up the rest of the way, scooting down to sit cross-legged at the end of his bed. It’s so much nicer than yours—the sheets softer, the mattress plusher, the smell so familiar and warm.
If it were up to you, you’d sleep in here every night.
And most nights, that’s exactly what you do.
“Would it kill you to be nice sometimes?” you ask.
“Not usually, no.” Kaz faces you, his weight leaned back against the desk, his cane propped against it. “But we both know you’re a special case.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“Not at all.”
Your bottom lip juts into a pout. “Has anyone ever told you you’re an asshole?”
Aside from the subtlest lift of his brows, Kaz’s expression remains vague and disinterested. “Regularly,” he deadpans, looking the image of austere melancholy.
Your laugh comes so sudden it sounds like a snort. “I should’ve guessed,” you nod, forever unphased by Kaz’s forbidding attitude.
This is the way things have always been between you. Ever since a surly twelve year old marched head-high into your father’s office to see if the Dregs needed a new grunt, oblivious to the girl beaming up at him from a lonely corner, weaving colorful scraps of thread into bracelets for the friends you’d yet to make.
Kaz Brekker is dark and foreboding while you’re bright and bubbly; he’s rude and standoffish while you’re sweet and flirtatious. Some may liken your relationship to oil and water, but you prefer thinking of it as a carefully crafted balance—a yin and yang sort of thing.
Kaz, on the other hand, would simply say you’re a thorn in his side.
Fortunately for yourself, you’re not an easily offended thorn.
The rickety floorboards creak as Kaz starts around the desk. His bare fingers trail along the varnished edge for support. His limp is always at its worst by this time of night, so you’re not surprised to see the flicker of relief that slips over him when he finally sinks into the chair.
“Have you ever considered that maybe you work too hard?” Your voice teeters on the edge of concern, tracing idle shapes against the sheets with your nails.
His answer is curt, and contradictory to the purple smudges beneath his eyes. “No.”
Fumbling with his cufflinks—simple, unadorned things—Kaz rolls his sleeves up to his elbows. Afterwards, he flips open the thick ledger laid before him, plucking up a pen and dipping it into an awaiting pot of ink.
Kaz keeps track of the Dregs expenses in his head—a skill you’ve always found most impressive, since you can hardly do a simple equation without scratch paper. Still, he keeps the physical record for the sake of having something to point to in case someone’s ever stupid enough to claim Dirtyhands flubbed the numbers.
As he works, boredom quickly becomes a chip on your shoulder.
Your legs unfurl, bare feet stretching toward the floor as you slip off the edge of the bed. Every step is purposeful, traipsing toward him with a look that’s not so unlike a cat readying to toy with its favorite mouse.
“Maybe we should take a holiday,” you suggest, your voice a soft trill.
One part of you expects to be ignored, the other to be shot down.
He lands somewhere in the middle.
“And go where? His eyes remain focused on the ledger, dark brows drawn tight in concentration. You envision numbers flashing before him, adding and subtracting at the steady pass of the nib scratching against parchment.
“I don’t know. Ravka, maybe?”
“Ravka?” It’s like the word tastes sour on his tongue. “Why?”
You stop just short of his desk, an answer instantly rapping at your mind. You quickly replace it with one that’s far less tragic. “I wouldn’t mind seeing Nikolai Lantsov with my own eyes,” you drawl. “Nina says he’s quite the looker, y’know.”
Kaz sits up a little straighter, shoulders pinned with newfound tension.
“Of course he is.” He seems to press the nib down harder, his disinterested tone bordering close to resentful. “He’s a prince—looking pretty is all they’re good for.”
Your head tilts. “Well, he’s actually a king now, so…”
There’s the briefest falter in the smooth motion of his jotting wrist. “I’m not taking you to Ravka so you can seduce the Lantsov bastard.”
“And why not?” You reach for the tip of his cane, still propped against the desk, skimming a finger over the crow’s head. “You think I can’t do it?”
The pen keeps on scratching, accented by the dull hum of the Slat’s perpetual motion—doors slamming, voices cackling. Your ego grows larger for every second Kaz stays silent, your satisfaction settling into a feline smirk.
Simply, yet firmly, Kaz eventually maintains, “We’re not going to Ravka.”
Your exhale is something over dramatic, laden with feigned disappointment as you huff, “Fine!” Kaz never looks up, continuing with the ledger.
Abandoning the crow’s head, you swipe one of Kaz’s abandoned gloves off the desk, fiddling with the smooth leather. Still recovering from their civil war, you imagine Ravka isn’t an ideal travel spot right now, anyway. Not unless someone has a morbid desire to tour the sites where Saints met their often-grisly ends, that is… Besides, for all Nina’s praise of the Lantsov king, you’ve never actually had a thing for blondes.
And yet—
“I really would like to go someday.” Your voice is hardly a whisper. Your other answer—tragic and rapping—crawls up your throat in a hoarse admission, “My mother was Ravkan.”
That persistent scratching finally comes to a sudden halt.
For the first time since he entered the room, Kaz looks up. There’s not a hint of pity in his eyes, though they gleam with solemn understanding. Your lips thin, pressing his glove tight to your chest.
In the winter of your fourteen birthday, you snuck into your father’s office and stole a full bottle of kvas. Dressed in clothes too light for the frigid weather, you sped up the crooked stairs to Kaz’s attic-bedroom, pleading until he begrudgingly agreed to join you on the moonlit roof. For a boy who claimed such an aversion to you, he was always doing things you asked—even if he’d griped the whole time. You both gagged after the first sip of hard liquor. After an hour or so, the full bottle had dwindled to just a drop, your tongues seeming to move with more freedom.
Neither of you had been prepared for the way the carbonated joy in your chests fizzled to something stagnant.
I don’t like being alone, you told him, fiddling with the frayed strings tied around your wrist, the friendship bracelets no one ever wanted. If I’m alone, it means I’m thinking, and if I’m thinking, it means my mother won’t stop dying.
You told him of the endless montage in your head. How at six years old, a walk along the Stave in your favorite winter coat ended with getting crushed beneath the weight of your mother’s last act of devotion, shielded by a body crumpled and crimson, shorn in the crossfire of unexpected gang violence. When you fell silent, Kaz drained the last drop of kvas and told you about a coffee shop near the Exchange. About a sickboat and a boy named Jordie, about a frosty harbor and an impossible swim that left him unable to bear the touch of another’s skin.
When neither of you had any soul left to bear, Kaz chucked the bottle off the roof. You don’t remember hearing it shatter, and maybe it never did. Maybe it hit some hapless pigeon and fractured his skull. Maybe it ceased to exist the moment it went over the edge. The bottle didn’t matter. Not to you. Not when Kaz Brekker reached for your wrist, leather-clad fingers gently tugging the bracelets off your wrist.
Don’t make a thing of this, he told you, stuffing them in his pocket. You’re still a pest.
But it was a thing. A strange, beautiful thing—and both of you knew it.
“Fine.” Kaz’s voice—the rasp of stone on stone—drags you back to the present. He sits the pen down beside the ledger, a strand of black hair swaying with the subtle shake of his head. “We’ll go to Ravka. You’ll seduce some sorry prince and live happily ever after in a gaudy palace. I’ll make my fortune snagging the Lantsov Emerald and use it to hire a proper bookkeeper. Deal?”
Your lips twitch, still hugging his glove to your chest. “King,” you correct him.
His eyes roll, but a flicker of something warm betrays his affection. “Pest,” he calls you, though it doesn’t sound like much of an insult.
“I imagine the Grand Palace has fine exterminators,” you muse.
“Then I suppose your marriage will be short-lived.”
“Will you save me, then?” Your heart leaps with the question, how it slips from your tongue before you can grasp it.
Kaz hesitates. Then—remarkably—smiles.
“Maybe.”
a/n - you know what they say. a bottle of kvas is never just a bottle of kvas, amirite
(☞ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞
anyways, i was procrastinating an essay and thought "lets write something with a somewhat ambiguous ending!" and voila, a boy's first pest is the product. now everyone say: lainie, go work on your original writing and stop writing so much fan fiction! (but i'm already thinking of a kaz smut drabble so) anyways, comments and reblogs much appreciated, i cry with joy every time someone actively interacts with my work so THANK YOU
#kaz brekker imagine#kaz brekker x reader#shadow and bone imagine#six of crows imagine#shadow and bone fanfic#s&b imagine#kaz brekker x fem!reader#kaz brekker x you#shadow and bone fic#shadow and bone x reader#six of crows x reader#six of crows imagines#crooked kingdom#six of crows#shadow and bone#s&b netflix#kaz brekker#six of crows fanfic#grishaverse imagine#grishaverse#freddy carter imagine#freddy carter
208 notes
·
View notes
Text
In Love, in War Pt. 2 | Thomas Shelby x Reader
Summary | She (the reader) comes from a wealthy family in Birmingham, England and he (Thomas Shelby) comes from a family of no-good troublemakers in Small Heath. Their worlds finally collide when Thomas lands himself in the triage tent of a nearby hospital camp during the battle of the Somme with a neck wound. Past traumas and heavy-handed words open old wounds, and yet, they always find their way back to Birmingham.
Warnings | Blood, gore, war, death, crying, and out-dated language ("Gypsies").
Before you gotta go- Courtney Barnett 🎵
Evil- Interpol 🎶
Crying lightning- Arctic Monkeys 🎵
Word count: 2073k
Not proofread- my b, folks!
Thomas was moved to the infirmary by nightfall. The tent was cold and poorly insulated so the nurses draped what extra blankets they could find over the patients. Thomas waved them off.
“I’m fine. Give it to that bastard.” He’d say again and again as the blankets were distributed amongst them. He saw the nurse again during his 5th night in the infirmary. She had the night shift and set her things down at the nurses station. She did her rounds, checking vitals and distributing medication. He felt as though he recognized her from somewhere but with the habit-like uniform he couldn’t be sure.
She moved on down the line until she reached Thomas, who was sitting up and smoking in bed.
“I see they’ve discarded the bandages.” She put gentle fingers near the healing wound.
“You must’ve stitched me up too well.” He exhaled and shifted beneath the top sheet.
She looked down at his chart, hanging from the end of his bed and froze. Shelby. Thomas was a Shelby. She looked at the chart, her hands shaking slightly from shock. She hadn’t run into anyone from Birmingham before him, and of course, the first man she sees is a Shelby, one of the poor, troublesome families living in squalor in Small Heath.
“Are you from Birmingham, Thomas?” She cleared her throat.
“Yeh, you?” He took out a new cigarette from the pack.
“Yes, I am. I recognized your accent. This will be cold, sorry.” She put the stethoscope under his shirt, listening to his heart. She watched her watch and counted the beats per second.
“Funny, I don’t recognize yours.” He tensed as the cold scope moved across his stomach, listening to his lungs. “Which neighborhood are you from, nurse?”
She removed the stethoscope and wrote down the numbers on his chart for the next nurse to read. She cleared her throat again, “Claremont.” She looked up and saw him chuckle, shaking his head.
“Ah, so you’re one of ‘em rich girls.” He observed pointedly and crossed his ankles beneath the bedsheets. She said nothing. She spread vaseline across the wound with a cotton swab. “I knew I recognized you from somewhere,” he continued, “must’ve seen you down at the tracks.”
“How did you get in?” She asked a little too ignorantly and Thomas frowned slightly.
“Poor men with money to spend will always be welcome at the tracks. I learned as much from my old man.” He looked down at the cigarette in his hand.
“I never saw you.”
“You wouldn't have would you, eh? They put us farther back in the pubs where your-like couldn’t see us.”
She blushed and slipped a thermometer below his tongue to record his temperature. He spoke around the thermometer, “Why’d you become a nurse? Didn’t your daddy tell you it wasn’t a hobby for the girls of your status?”
“I wanted to help.” She answered truthfully, forgoing any mention of her fiance.
“And was it everything you dreamed of?” He trained his cold oceanic eyes on her as she removed the thermometer.
“No, it's much worse.” She whispered.
“Eh, imagine that. Can’t handle this can you?” He flicked the long butt of ash onto the dirt floor below.
“I managed your stitches just fine, I think. You’re alive aren’t you?” Her face burned and she evaded his piercing eyes.
“So I should thank you, should I?” He felt a swell of anger in his chest. “It was your lot that got us into this war in the first place and then you expect us to fight it for you.”
“I didn’t get anyone involved in this bloody war, Shelby. I involved myself and I’m still here, aren’t I?” She fummed as she left the chart at the foot of his bed.
“You’ll leave as soon as you get the chance, I bet.” He sucked hard on his cigarette, looking away.
“Wouldn’t you?” She retorted angrily.
“I don’t have a choice, love. They sent me here to die. I’ll leave when I’m dead.”
“Excite yourself again and you may not have long to wait.” She pointed to her own neck and stomped away in her wooden-soled shoes to the nurse’s station. She heard Thomas huff loudly from his bed. She lowered the gaslight at the desk, letting the ward fall darker, and watched dutifully as the men tried to sleep.
She was moved again to the triage tent and worked during the night shifts, restocking supplies and listening to radio calls requesting medical personnel. It was quiet that night as she ran through the stock of syringes and gauze. She came up short and approached the head nurse on duty.
“Go to the infirmary and take from their stock then go home. We’ll get you if we need the extra hands,” the head nurse directed.
She hurried to the infirmary tent, tripping over piles of mud and old grass. It was approaching summer again and the mud had warmed to a more bearable temperature stuck inside her stockings. She pushed aside the tent flap and approached the petite brunette behind the desk.
“I need seven more syringes and about ten more rolls of gauze. Can you spare that?”
“Let me check for you.” The nurse smiled and took the medical bag from her hands. She stepped into the connecting tent and disappeared behind the flap.
She turned to the patients left in the ward and glanced over at the bed for Thomas Shelby, empty. She looked back to see if the nurse had returned before going outside. She spotted him against the side of the tent in the dark, smoking a cigarette by himself.
“You shouldn’t be out here alone.” She said quietly. Thomas turned towards the voice. “You may tear a stitch and die without anyone noticing.” Thomas smirked in the glow of his cigarette.
“Then join me.”
She said nothing but stepped in closer where she could see him properly in the light of the distant moon. He was pale in the dark with iridescent eyes and soft cheekbones. She stopped beside him and pulled her cardigan closer around her chest instinctively.
��I’m not going to touch you, yeh know.” Thomas exhaled a stream of smoke and flicked his eyes at her cardigan.
“I never said you would.” She murmured.
“Right.” He rolled his eyes under the cover of darkness.
“I know you’re not like that.”
“Like what?” He looked over at her.
“I don’t know.” She looked away and exhaled shakily.
“People like me? People from Small Heath? ‘Gypsies,’ petty thieves, day laborers and gangsters?” He offered sarcastically.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” She dropped her arms defeatedly to her sides, “I just mean…”
“I get it, princess. I’ll keep my hands to myself.” He laughed breathily. She sighed and rested her head on her shoulder. The night noises were scattered with occasional popping sounds and squealing fireworks.
“Do you miss it? Birmingham, I mean.” She broke the heavy silence.
“I miss my family.” He answered and dropped the cigarette into the mud.
“Do you have a large family?”
“Yeh, most of them are here with me.”
“Really?” She raised her head.
“My brothers, yeh. John and Arthur. There’s also Danny and Johnny Doggs, not brothers by blood but they’re still kin.” He looked down at his chest and hissed from the movement pulling at his stitches.
“Were your brothers out there with you before you were hurt?”
“Mhm, they’re all still out there.” He gestured to the distant battleland shrouded in gray clouds and smoke.
“I’m sorry.” She whispered.
“Yeh well it’s our duty in service to the crown, ain’t it?” He laughed stiffly.
“It's a massive sacrifice.”
“Sacrifice?” He laughed, “What sacrifices have you made, eh? Stop talking as if you understand what it’s like for us. We die out there, in the factories, in our homes and your lives never change.” He spat.
She forced back the tears stinging in her eyes.
“Hello? I have the things you requested! Where are you?” The nurse called from inside the tent. She turned back to Thomas, angry tears flooding her eyes.
“What sacrifices have I known? What have I given in my duty to the crown and to this country? You have no right to speak to me like that, Thomas Shelby. You have no idea what I’ve lost in this war. Just because I don’t wear a black band or carry a pistol does not make me any less of a tool in this national scheme.” She cried beneath her breath and threw open the flap to the tent, leaving him struck dumb in the humid dark.
“Thank you.” She smiled weakly at the nurse and took the bag.
“Is everything alright?” The nurse asked in a low voice.
“Oh yes, I just need a good rest is all. Homesick.” She lied and nodded goodnight.
She deposited the supplies back at the triage tent and went straight to her tent, shared with five other nurses. She was alone in the tent and allowed herself to cry, cradling the abandoned black band that stood for Francis’s death. Her tears merged into angry sobs that she couldn’t suppress. As her sobs slowed, she stared off into space and ignored the quiet footsteps outside her tent.
“Nurse?” Thomas whispered loudly through the thick canvas siding. She didn’t hear him until he had entered the tent and moved to crouch beside her cot. When she noticed him, she surprised herself by not reacting. He sat beside her on the cot in his army-issued thermal pajamas and wrapped his arms around her.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered by her head. “I didn’t think… I wasn’t thinking.” He repeated over and over again as she cried quietly in his arms. “I’m so sorry.”
She shook her head and gave into his embrace, burying her face into the joint of his left shoulder.
“What was his name?” He asked gently.
“Francis.” She sobbed.
“Shhhhh-” He held her closer as she hiccuped. She placed her hands against his chest, warming them with the heat of his body. When she regained composure, she sniffed.
“I’m sorry.” She whispered and pulled away, wiping her eyes.
“Here.” Thomas offered his handkerchief and she took it. “Don’t apologize.” He ran a hand down her back, his leg propped up on the cot at an angle.
“Thank you.” She returned the hankie to his hand, blushing with embarrassment. She looked up into his eyes and saw a newfound softness in their hue. His lashes were long and dark like his skunk-like hair. He looked back, glancing down at her lips, wet with her own tears. He licked his lips and withdrew his hand from the small of her back, pulling a thread of hair from beneath her cap. She covered his hand with her own and leaned into it, innocently. He leaned in and brushed his nose against hers, asking permission to go further. Her lips brushed his, barely a kiss and came back for more. She kissed him messily, like a virgin, and found comfort in the warm softness of his lips. She sighed and allowed herself to be swept up by the pleasure of his closeness in her sadness. He kissed her back, breathing in deeply. She ran a hand down his chest as he cupped the veil of her habit in his hands. She shook her head suddenly, shaking herself out of it.
“You shouldn’t be here. Anyone could come in.” She stood quickly and he followed, his head brushing the small tent’s ceiling.
“Will you be alright?” He asked. She stared back, caught off guard by his question, his interest. She stuttered slightly, catching on the roundness of her answer.
“Yes, yes. I’ll be alright. We weren’t married yet… just-just engaged.” She looked down at the space separating his ribcage from his stomach, the divot of muscle that shook as he breathed through his shirt.
“No, no. Will you be alright?” He stressed and she paused.
“I miss him.”
“I know.”
She nodded stiffly and pressed her hand against his chest, pushing herself back away from him subtly. He covered her hand and looked into her eyes.
“You should go before you get caught.” She whispered and he nodded slowly. He turned away and peered outside, looking both ways.
“Goodnight, Shelby.” She uttered in a low voice which he returned with a sad smile.
“Goodnight, nurse.”
...................
End of part 2 :)
#cillian murphy#cillian murphy x reader#cillian x fem!reader#cillian x y/n#smut#cillian x reader#thomas shelby#tommy shelby#peaky blinders#cillian fanfic#cillian fluff
92 notes
·
View notes
Text
When murders go unrecognized.
In the 60s my dad joined the national guard. He wanted to get a degree in chemistry and not end up working in the steel mill like his dad. Both of these things worked out for him. He ended up working for the EPA (which he and all his work buddies called "air pollution" for some reason, talk about bad branding)
Anyway it's the 60s and this handsome fellow is on a base for some basic training.
They got evenings on weekends off and could go into town.
On one of these hot summer weekends it's nearly the end of the camp. All of the young men were basically sick of training and things got a little wild in town with some of the young men drinking too much. My dad was in a bunk house near the gate. All of the black members of the guard were housed together. They got back just in time, being late for curfew was a big deal.
But once back in the house they noticed one young man was missing.
Let's call the missing man J.
So, my dad and his new friends in the guard are watching the gate waiting for J. to get back from town. Two hours late J. comes stumbling up the gravel drive to the little gate house. This gate house was staffed by two white guys, not much older than the new members.
They stop J. who is visibly wobbling and clearly not sober.
What everyone expected to happen was J. would get yelled at, and he might have to run laps or something the next morning. Really, curfew was a big deal, so it might be even worse than that.
But, now my dad and the other young men watched as an argument broke out. One of the white guards grabbed J. by the shirt. J. waved him off and tried to walk away. And then suddenly there was a gun shot.
J. had been shot dead!
In the house, the mood went from mild amusement at J. getting in trouble to silence. No one could hear what was being said but after some time a more senior member of the guard appeared. Medics removed J. body.
Training continued the next day as if nothing had happened.
The event was recorded as "insubordination" and "self - defense." The double insulation of the 60s and the military meant that the young man who murdered J faced no consequences. This whole incident was simply swallowed by time. But, my dad told me the story several times. Especially when stressing why you should be careful around cops, or guards or anyone with a gun and the swagger of authority.
Though, the more I think about it the more I want to go back and find out more. Maybe at least get some statements from the other witnesses. My dad claims it's impossible to do anything because, when in the military you aren't covered by the same legal protections as a citizen.
There isn't going to be any big movie or book about J. He's just another young man who disappeared.
I wonder if he had anyone to send his photo in uniform to?
31 notes
·
View notes
Text
TBHK #115: Thoughts
In the short form: AAAAIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!
In the somewhat longer form:
Firstly, let me declare my UNDYING LOVE for the solid proof that yes, despite (or perhaps because of) all the Utter Batshit, Hanako has honestly been good for Nene. Also - bonus points for that solid right hook she's developed, and the fine, fine use to which she puts it in this chapter.
Secondly, Witness My Happy Dance that she got to see - however briefly - the adult teacher version of Amane.
*ahem*
Okay.
I do want to say I am positively delighted to find that Amane never stops being a complete nerd, even into adulthood. And yes, for those of you young enough to still be in school, when an adult is casually brewing his coffee using lab equipment when there's a perfectly serviceable teacher's lounge in pretty much every school with a coffeepot...that is nerdery. It's adorable nerdery, but it's nerdery. (Mainly because dude. Coffee. STAINS. and is HOT. And those beakers aren't insulated and don't have handles, so.)
I am touched that Yashiro sees all this evidence that if Amane's allowed to grow up, he'll grow up to be a good and interesting man that students love. That he'll get to nerd out on a school budget and get other people into his nerdery and that it will all be Good.
I suspect Nene is crying because now she has to decide whether wanting the other timeline back is what's best for Amane.
I would like to note, at this juncture, that we're not just seeing two timelines in flux now, but at least three. One where Amane becomes Hanako. One where he becomes Yugi-sensei and that area is his 'science prep room', and one where it's a storage room containing his astronomy club notes. (I suspect that that's the 'latest' time, since according to Tsuchi's comments, Yugi-sensei has retired. But the Amane that Nene met - while far too old to be a dating prospect for her - is definitely way too young to be retiring from teaching.)
It is still unclear what Amane knows about the 'summoning spirit'. That's...mmm.
And lastly, thoughts on Tsukasa.
Firstly, of course he's taking the most damage. He's the target of One's ire, and all this time-flipping shit is specifically intended to remove Tsukasa from existence. He does not appear to be erased, though.
Actually, if I had to take a stab...I'd say he's not a supernatural. I'd say he's an actual ghost. A badly deteriorated one, in fact. I suspect what ties him to the Near Shore is his twin, but it's clearly fucking him up pretty badly.
Could someone tell me just wtf Tsukasa is wearing? I'm not kidding here. I suspect it's significant but I can't figure out what's up. Is that what he was wearing the day he first discovered the RHE? Something else?
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
Washboard Blues, and other Vignettes
Vignettes (I guess they call them Imagines these days?) I wrote in the Lackadaisy Discord, plus one that’s original on here.
There are 4 on offer: -You’ll Thank Me When You Grow Old (Discord) -If Only She Knew (Discord) -Washboard Blues (Discord) -You’re Gonna Look Fine (new for this post)
I also allude to an original character from @ladybugkisses ! I don’t really include her, it’s mostly about Rocky, but she’s there so I’m tagging it and mentioning Ari. Give her a follow if you haven’t already!
You’ll Thank Me When You Grow Old
Rows of sunlight snuck through the blinds in the dorm. It was cold - drafty, and wet outside, with typical dorm room quality insulation (that is to say - bad insulation) made for a rather frigid experience.
Still, Helen was wrapped up in the covers, Olivia was in a thick bath robe - And Ivy was nowhere to be seen. That is, until the door crept open, revealing a rather bleary eyed Ivy, still in clothes from the night before - party clothes, with a hastily thrown on tweed jacket.
Olivia peered up from her glasses while reading, like a disappointed mother. "You're home early." She said, a snide lilt in her voice.
"I...stayed at a friend's place."
"Sure you did." Olivia stood. "And I bet you sat there and played dominos all night, too?" Olivia walked over to her bed, and got a few things from the shelf nearby.
"Olivia, what does it matter if-"
"It matters that you're out so late! I was worried sick!"
"Freckle is nothing to worry about, he's a good man!" "He works at that no good, low down Daisy-whatever. I bet he'll die in some awful shoot out anyhow."
"Olivia!" Ivy gasped, as she removed the jacket, and her evening sleeves, "How dare you say something like that!"
"It's true! What's next? He gets you tied up in it?"
"...well..."
"...IVY. MICHELLE. PEPPER." Olivia seemed mortified. "You're NOT gonna keep doing that! You'll get killed!"
"What does it matter to you!?"
"We're your FRIENDS, Ivy! Don't we mean ANYthing to you?" Olivia fought on a sweater, and got her shoes on. "...I'm going to class. I don't want to hear about...mobsters or whatever." Olivia put her hands on Ivy's shoulders.
"You'll thank me when you grow old."
Olivia walked out the door. Ivy stood there. She sniffled. Helen rubbed sleep from her eyes.
"...oh, morning Ivy," She yawned, "Did you...see Oli? She wanted to talk to you."
"...how did you sleep through that?"
"Sleep through what?"
"Nevermind.”
-
If Only She Knew
Calvin sat there as the record player warbled. Something about a washboard. He sat, nervously, in Mitzi May's office. Ivy was there, too. The two seemed to be in fairly hot water. Calvin and Ivy'd been caught by Mitzi in the broom closet as it were. Ivy, still in her green dress, looked up at Freckle.
"Think you'll have to stop working for the Daisy?"
"Maybe."
"Well. Always the Marigold." She said.
"Not in my life." He said. "If I'm forced into retirement I'm going-"
The door opened. Ivy gripped Clavin's hand. Mitzi stormed in. "I must admit, I'm awfully cross you two chose to do this on the clock."
"Mitzi, with all due respect, Calvin's hands were hardly near my-"
"It's not about that!" Mitzi said. "I do NOT want to hear the details! What's important is that you should NOT be doing that at work!"
"I'm NOT on the job!" Ivy remarked. "It's my night off!"
"Calvin is very much on the job." Mitzi replied.
Calvin looked down. "...I, eh...I was...staking someone out."
"...why didn't you say something!"
"I tried, but you kept kissing me before I could say words!"
"I do have a nasty habit of that." Ivy said.
"I like that nasty habit." Freckle went a bit red, and drooped his ears.
"Aww, Calvi-"
"Excuse me." Mitzi said, sternly. "...I'm not gonna make you two stop seein' each other, that'd be too much. But Ivy, you ask me if Calvin's workin' next time."
"...fine."
"And you, Mr. McMurray." Mitzi said. "What are your intentions for my daughter?"
"...beg...pardon?"
"Your intentions."
"...for your daughter?"
"No, I haven't got a daughter."
Ivy blinked. "...you said daughter."
Mitzi's ears stood up. "...I said Ivy."
"You called me your daughter!" Ivy gasped. "Does that mean-" She smiled brightly, "You love me like a mom!?"
"Ivy, please, I-"
"Does THAT mean I'm Ivy may? I like that! I like Ivy Mcmurray more, though~" She cooed.
"Ivy, I-"
"You two GET OUT!" Mitzi nearly chased them out with a stick. She sighed.
"...that girl..."
If only she knew.
-
Washboard Blues
Glitz. Glamor. Fame. Fortune. All these things came with running the newly successful Daisy. The dresses, the drinks, the fine friends, the gorgeous parties.
And Mitzi was stuck washing clothes, before such a party, because Wick was 'indisposed'.
"...You've got 3 maids and a secretary." She grumbled as she scrubbed. "And none of 'em could come to help with things?" She hung something else out. She huffed, and let out a sigh. "I ain't some dainty little housewife, Wick," she spoke, to no one in particular, "if you're not even gonna marry me why make me wash the clothes?" She sighed. "Atlas never made me do that." She grumbled. "I bet ZIB wouldn't! She yelped. "I bet he'd LOVE to wash the clothes from time to time! Closest he gets to a goddamn bath." She sighed.
"...no, no." She shook her head. "Wick's...injured." She rolled her eyes. "Here I go again, cursing the sick and needy." She got back to scrubbing. She hummed to herself, and sang.
"Mornin' comes with cloudy skies and rain...my poor back am broke with pain....My man's sleepin', I just scrubbin', chillin', weepin', I do rubbin' age a-creepin', clothes a-tubbin', all day long..."
She sighed, alone in the back yard, stretching her back and grunting. Her joints cracked. And then...
"...You know, Zib," She looked over to him, "You really don't have to play that on sax." She said.
"How am I not gonna play Hoagy Carmichael?" He walked over, and put his instrument down, carefully.
"What're you even doing here?"
"Band's entertaining here tonight...I see you've got a bit of the washboard blues, huh?"
"He's got a bad back, his maids are all sick, and Lacy is already on cooking duty..." She shook her head.
"Just bad luck on his part."
"Hmm." Zib shrugged. "You're right, you know."
"Hm?"
Zib cupped her chin. "I wouldn't make you wash nothin'."
"...su...stop." She batted at him, playfully. She smirked. "You're too much."
"If you say so."
-
You’re Gonna Look Fine
“...Rocky?”
“Hmm?”
“You’ve been looking in the mirror for something like 30 minutes.” Mitzi said, crossing her arms. “What’s got into you? You got a court date or somethin’?”
“Not a court date,” Rocky said, “A REAL date!”
“With who?”
“Ari!” “...it doesn’t ring a bell.”
“You wouldn’t know her, anyhow.” Rocky said, dismissively. “She’s beautiful! She’s got this fiery red fur, and white tailtip, like a...fox or something! How wonderful she is, how delightful, how-”
“Rocky,” Mitzi shook her head, “I understand you got a date goin’ but frankly there’s an awful lot of work to do and I don’t want you mussin’ that suit beforehand. I-...where are you even goin’ at this time’a day that requires that sorta dress?”
“Why, only the finest establishment in town!”
“...”
“HERE!” Rocky said. “For pancakes.” He suavely straightened his tie.
“...for pancakes?”
“She never had ‘em.”
“Rocky-” Mitzi pinched the bridge of her nose. “I do hope she likes you, because I can’t imagine a lotta other women doing so.”
“Do I look okay?”
“You’re gonna look fine.” Mitzi said. “Maybe a little over dressed for a breakfast...you look like you’re on your way to your wedding!”
Rocky sighed dreamily. “I suuuuure aaaaam...”
Mitzi chuckled a bit, and batted his arm. “You really are perplexing.”
“Is that her in the window?”
Standing there was a girl, with...fiery red fur, and a white tailtip. She looked reluctant to enter. Mitzi looked over. “Well, Rocky, you know how to pick ‘em, I’ll give y’that.”
“What if she thinks WE’RE talking though?”
“...despite my better efforts I look like I could be your mother, Rocky. Go ahead, open the door for her!”
“Alright...wish me luck, Miss May, ol’ boss ol’ pal o’mine!”
“Mhm.” Mitzi walked up to the office, and sat in her desk.
“...if THIS doesn’t work out for him, nothin’ will.”
#Lackadaisy#Lackadaisy Cats#lackadaisy fanfiction#FlimFlamuniverse#ivy peper#Calvin McMurray#Frepper#Rocky Rickaby#Mitzi May#dorian zibowski#roari#I like those two together they're cute!
82 notes
·
View notes
Text
Alex & Friends Part 25-Ambulance
Thanks to @jaydiann and @whumpy-daydreams for helping with the medical stuff in this! Aaron belongs to @pigeonwhumps
cw: medical whump, near drowning, broken bones, needles, painful healing, medicinal drug use
At least the back of the ambulance was warm and dry, because as far as Alex could tell, that was its only plus side. Three sets of hands were busily scrambling over her, cutting her clothes off, and sticking stuff to her chest. She heard the sound of velcro as a blood pressure cuff was wrapped around her arm, then another pair of hands prodded her legs, asking her to move them and checking for injuries.
It was more than she could handle. She tried to listen to the instructions, but she really just wanted to scream at them to stop. All she could manage was a tired groan. Talking had gotten harder, as had breathing.
Somebody leaned over her, looping an oxygen mask around her face as they spoke. “Hey, Alex. I’m Aaron. I’m a doctor, we’re gonna help you, okay?”
She nodded, trying to distract herself from the hands patting down her legs and arms.
“You said your neck hurt. Is there anywhere else that hurts?” Aaron said, quickly flashing a bright light in and out of her field of vision.
“Foot, chest.” She said, pausing for a breath. “Breathing’s hard.”
They nodded, then looked up to check her vitals. “Tell me if it gets harder, yeah?”
The doctor's attention was drawn away by Joseph’s voice. “I think she’s got a broken calcaneus.”
Aaron disappeared from her vision, and there were suddenly hands poking at her heel. It hurt, and tears welled up in her eyes. “I’d say it's broken,” Aaron agreed, finally pulling his hands away from her ankle. He stepped back. “Get some blankets on her and get a line in.”
The two paramedics wrapped her in blankets, covering up her cold, damp skin. They left her injured foot uncovered, but other than that, her body was blessedly insulated from the air.
“Can you make a fist for me?” Joseph asked as he started to pat her arm. Her vein popped up quickly-she’d always been an easy stick-and he wiped her skin clean. “Sharp scratch,” He warned, then sunk the needle in.
“Alex, I’m going to heal your ankle now, okay?” Aaron said. She swallowed. It was going to hurt, healing always did. “It’ll be painful, but it'll be quick, alright?”
She hummed in the affirmative, since the c-collar prevented her from nodding her head. The sooner it was over, the better.
Aaron carefully took her heel in his hands, handling it more gently than she was used to. Zorland’s people certainly hadn’t been this nice. His touch wasn’t too horrible either, the texture of his hands hidden by the gloves.
Heat started to emanate from his hands. At first, the warmth was pleasant, but it quickly grew into a hot, searing pain. Inside her foot, her bones were shifting and fusing. A weird tingling sensation took over her foot, pain shimmering and pulsing. She gasped, clawing at the side of the stretcher, and Aaron had to tighten his grip on her foot to keep it still.
It’d been nearly a year since she was healed like this, but it brought her right back to the cold metal table. The phantom sensation of straps pinning her down pricked at her wrists. A pained groan escaped her lips, followed by a round of ragged, panting breaths.
“You’re going great.” Aaron said, voice to calm for the amount of pain she was in. “We’re nearly done.”
Joseph appeared in her vision. “You can scream if you need to, I know it hurts.”
She’d never been allowed to scream before, not in that damn back room, and a screeching, high pitched wine filled the ambulance. It quickly devolved into another round of fast, panicky breaths.
Aaron removed his hands, and the pain slowly faded away. “I’m done with your heel now,’ he said. It must’ve been a small break, since he didn’t look too tired. He reassessed it, smiling a little. “Does it still hurt?”
Alex mumbled a quiet no. Once the pain from the healing had faded, it’d felt like nothing had ever happened to it.
“That’s good, swelling’s gone down and it looks a lot better.” Aaron pulled the blanket over her foot, then maneuvered around Joseph and the two paramedics so he was by her head. He sat down behind her, and the butterflies in her stomach multiplied.
“I’m going to heal your neck, next, okay?” His voice was gentle, but it did very little to calm the panic that rose in her chest.
“Please…please no.” It would hurt. Healing places close to nerves like that were agony. She tried to shake her head no, but the brace prevented her from moving.
“Remember to keep still,” Aaron said, and she whimpered, waiting for him to cup his hands around her head. “We’re going to give you some meds that’ll help with pain and prevent you remembering the healing, yeah?”
Alex murmured a quiet thank you, and Arron smiled before turning away to prepare the meds. There was a quiet exchange between Aaron and Joseph as he cross-checked the medications before he prepared the syringe.
“Drug’s are in,” Aaron confirmed.
Alex’s consciousness waned, and she let herself slip away.
Taglist: @/pigeonwhumps @rainydaywhump
#worlds babbles#whump#medical whump#injury whump#whump writing#aaron not my oc#is any one is curious:#it’s easier for Aaron to get her body to help him when it’s not distracted#it tires him out more and he wants to focus the most of his energy on her neck injury#and at some point#the need for pain control surpasses the need to converse healing energy#this isn’t perfect but it’s fun#and that’s why we’re here
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
Transform Your Home with Air Duct Sealing
Discover the key to a healthier and more efficient home in South Florida with our Air Duct Sealing Services in South Florida. Tight Right Homes specializes in sealing and insulating air ducts, ensuring optimal airflow and reducing energy waste. Improve indoor air quality and enjoy the benefits of lower energy bills with our expert solutions.
#attic insulation belle glade#attic insulation boynton beach#Insulation Services South Florida#Attic Insulation Removal South Florida#Attic Insulation Near Me
0 notes
Text
i'll scratch you raw
L'etat c'est moi
it's day four? i think? time is slippery at the best of it, and this has been, well, not even vaguely the worst. just weird.
it's a middle class neighbourhood, that i can no longer tell the signifiers as to if it's slouching up or sliding down, or is just resolutely planted. the houses all feel huge. but they're falling apart in pieces too. too old and expensive to maintain. paint flaked off. paneling removed in some half-finished reno leaving insulation out to the elements. a garage wiv a caved-in roof being eaten by moss. if you took away the maintained lawns, this could fill in nicely for a low-budget early-years post-apocalyptica.
there are many Trump-Vance signs; a smaller, but not insignificant number of thin blue line American flags. there are so, so many American flags. this irrepressible need to remind ourselves we are here, and our claim to the land is valid, i guess.
my uncle speaks wiv praise veiling some mixture of jealousy and cupidity about the Indian casinos. i half listen, to be polite, both halves. if i gave him my full attention, we'd probably wind up fighting, and there's still two weeks left to this trip.
he is over to the house constantly. his girlfriend can't get my name right. not even a mispronunciation, which would be understandable, but not even in the same linguistic ball park.
neither of them has managed to get my pronouns right even 5% of the time. which comes up a lot. people talk about me as if i weren't here. but they talk about everyone as if they weren't right there in the room.
the degree of love-in-shape for military and country is, frankly, bewildering. they prattle on the telly about how wonderful it is that Harris is getting even the younger generation to be proud of being American again, how she's taking back American Exceptionalism from being a stigma to the Dems. it is hard to repress a shudder of disgust.
da watches CNN constantly. CNN and golf. CNN and golf and Yellowstone. i do not understand what Yellowstone is. rah rah cowboy bullshite. not even fun, dyke cowboys. just Kevin Costner. maybe? i don't know. some actor i look at and my brain says "Kevin Costner," and for all i know my brain is right.
i discouver i loathe television. this is not a nose-in-the-air snob there is better to be had in [insert media x]. television, for me, is un-unwatchable. i demands my attention, and i seem helpless to not give it. the word that comes to me is resent. i resent its insistence. i resent that i am incapable of being in the same room as it and not giving it my near undivided attention. i spend most of my time on the back porch. it's quiet, there are squirrels sometimes.
CNN was banging on this morning about some hostages what got waxed in Gaza. it felt like hours. how sad for the families. how callow and vile of Hamas to murder, the word murder was stressed, them. not so much time given over to the hostage of Palestine. the families burying loved ones for almost a year now. daily. the takeaway seemed to be, at least, that the military activity was a failed path, so i mean, i don't know. like, i'm glad their point is (i guess?) maybe Israel shouldn't be bombing the ever-living fuck out of Gaza, but less because it is, in fact, evil, and more because it wouldn't secure the release of the hostages. which, right for the wrong reasons here is almost as infuriating as completely wrong. i had to keep leaving the living room on account of my blood pressure was twisting itself up dangerously high, so it's possible i missed some threads.
being back has been weird so far, i guess. as isolating in its own ways as being in Tokyo running myself ragged was. maybe i'd feel more of a pull to come back to the States if i were visiting somewhere bigger, busier, more in the mix, so maybe this was the best place to be? i don't think i'll feel the pangs of homesickness when its over.
i feel like this is all playing in a minor key, and i don't want to give the entirely wrong impression. the break away from the constant worry of how am i going to make tomorrow work. how am i going to fit a life into the scant time left from maintaining the capability for living. being away from all that has be an immense help. i feel distance from my family, but i know that's on me more than it is on them. they love their weird daughter more than she allows herself to feel or take part in, and i deeply appreciate that. i'm looking forward to seeing Jilly more than i can express. so, like, there's a lot of good to this trip.
but damned if i don't feel up to my tits in the uncomfortable weirdness that is the US.
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
this car (2009 mazda 3s) has had a very noisy fan for quite some time
we were quoted almost $1000 to fix the hvac blower in it, very expensive because the way™ to get to the blower requires removing the seats and then the entire dash (it's actually possible to replace the fan in situ if you're small, very flexible and don't mind working upside down but it's a serious pain in the ass for people our size!)
a couple years ago i ran across a web forum post where someone was able to clean out the fan from the engine side
for whatever reason i procrastinated it forever but finally yesterday i dove in and did it (directions on the forum post were probably 85% accurate but i think they were for a different generation of the car)
first part: fan sounds before; second part: pull fuzz out with a hook; third part: fan sounds after (the flutter you hear is wind on the microphone - the fan is as quiet as new) [watermark on the video is because i'm cheap and had three separate videos to put together since tumblr doesn't let you upload more than one video]
the fuzz came from under the engine cover; it was insulation and had been shredded by rodents; they must've taken it near that fan area but i didn't find any poops in the fan so my guess is that they made a nest in the trough nearby and it was sucked in to the fan. i was expecting to have to vacuum the fan chamber out, thinking it would be full of acorn shreds but instead the fuzz came out in three hook grabs.
i did cut one of the ribs of the grate covering the chamber so that i had better access; i had anticipated needing to remove the entire thing to be able to get a tube in there for vacuuming but as i said that was not necessary. to reduce future repetition i put some "hardware cloth" over it all:
this is a form of fencing useful for rabbits or chickens; the mesh is 1/4" (~6.5mm) and rodents can't get through it and they're unlikely to gnaw it either. some people make "gopher cages" to plant trees in because gophers come from the side underground and won't go through it there either... imo inadvisable because roots end up bound up inside the cage long before the stuff rusts out
tools were used:
a small flat blade screwdriver
a basic wrench
long hook made out of some 12ga fence wire with a hook bent into the end; a metal coat hanger would work great for this
a "puller" that's used to get the windshield wiper off of its bolt (after you pull the nut off)
the puller is a really useful tool and for $25 for three sizes and the ability to pull things off without destroying them it's a fantastic buy:
basically the puller is a fairly generic tool used to pull things off of a rod that they're probably stuck on, just like this windshield wiper arm is stuck on to the stud; the nut just capped the stud and kept the arm from eventually falling off (no danger of that today!)
you get the hooks under the thing, and then using a wrench you turn the screw and it pulls for you very slowly. in this case, it took half of a turn and i heard a "tink" and the arm came unstuck
you can buy these cheap at most auto parts shops or places like harbor freight / canadian tire. HF sells a set of 3-4 sizes of these; i think this is the only one i have and i think it came from amz
i worked super slowly to try to avoid breaking any plastics (the car is 15ish years old) and it took me 30 minutes to get the
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Here is a short bit of unfinished porn. Jim Gordon/Bruce Wayne. Explicit. In my head, it's Nolanverse, but it's pretty unspecific verse-wise.
They make a rough landing on one of the adjacent rooftops. Below in the alley odd shots are fired, muffled by snow and wind. In the distance, sirens and blue-red lights approach. Before Jim can catch his breath, Batman has kicked open the roof access door. He takes Jim inside to shelter them from the raging blizzard.
The door shuts. There are only their panting breaths and gusts of wind hissing through old brick to break the silence. Gordon turns on his comms and the hum of static and terse updates fill the silence: “Two suspects apprehended. One in pursuit-…”, “Corner of 5th avenue. She’s heading east-…”, “…-on foot-…”, “…-this fucking snow-…”, “We’ll need techs and forensics at the scene on Mainland-…”.
As they listen, Batman feels Gordon’s shoulders, his arms through his coat, padding up softly, a clinical touch, searching for injuries.
—“Jenny, you got the call through to forensics, right?”, “I’ll need backup. Suspect still-…”—
Batman’s gloves must not have that much insulation. Gordon feels the warmth of skin through his shirt. “I’m fine,” he says.
—“So where are they? With this snow-…”, “…-spect is female, mid-twenties-…”—
The padding continues, Batman’s eyes intent in the near darkness on Jim’s ribs, his back. One of the gloved hands stops briefly over his heart. Jim covers it with his own there. “I’m fine,” he repeats.
—“And where’s Stephens?”, “We have shots fired-…”—
In the dim light, he sees Batman close his eyes and breathe. Focused and deep. The hand on Jim’s chest does not move, the touch lighter now. Jim does not move his hand either. Batman’s gaze flickers once from Jim’s face to their hands, and back at Jim. Jim meets that gaze and keeps his hand where it is.
—“…-situation under contr-…”, “…-need a unit on-…”—
Batman’s eyes search his with a question.
Jim runs his thumb atop Batman’s hand in agreement.
Slowly, Batman’s other hand reaches into Jim’s jacket. He turns the volume down on the scanner. It’s just a background noise, and their breathing is loud again in the surrounding quiet. The hand on Jim’s chest moves up until it reaches the side of his neck. Jim reaches up as well, runs his fingertips along Batman’s jawline. Batman swallows.
Suddenly the hands are gone. It lasts only a second or two, the time needed for Batman to remove his gloves. The touch of skin, warm palms, colder fingertips, is like fire on Jim’s face. Batman’s fingers wind up in his hair. Jim clings to the thick kevlar, where it meets the cowl’s rigid plates.
Batman takes hold of Jim’s glasses. He removes them carefully, slipping the branches off his ears, folding them, mindful of the lenses. Jim’s vision blurs. In this dark, it’s all patches of grey, with a sharp stroke of white where a sliver of light comes from the door, and a blacker silhouette against him. Batman shifts them so his own back is to the door, blocking the light. With a click, the cowl is removed. His face is a paler grey, with tinges of white where the eyes must be.
Jim tilts his head up and Batman’s lips are on his, the full length of his body pressing Jim against the concrete wall. He kisses this warm mouth, leans into the warm touch, and runs his hands through hair he cannot see, warm, slick with sweat at the temple and neck. Jim opens his mouth and deepens the kiss, fingers looking for a seam in the suit.
“Let me touch you,” he says against warm skin.
Batman shifts, and Jim hears several clicks in succession. Then Batman guides Jim’s hand low on his chest where it can slip underneath the plates. There isn’t much room, but Jim will take it. He manages to take his hand under the soft undersuit garnment. The kevlar is so thick and the human warmth under it so mundane, so fragile. Batman’s own hands are under Jim’s shirt and t-shirt, limited by the tight space.
Their mouths are still together, kisses growing clumsy. Jim gasps when Batman’s hand makes it into his pants and boxers. It takes hold of him, making Jim realize how hard he is when he bucks against the warm palm, pushing into the firm grip with a moan Batman’s mouth echo into his.
He tugs at the suit’s belt. “How does-…”.
“Wait.”
More clicks. The utility belt falls to the ground between them, and Jim can slip his hand beneath Batman’s hipbone, past a soft elastic closure, all of it so damn warm in the cool winter air. He finds Batman’s cock, as hard as his, arched and compressed by unyielding kevlar. Just wriggling his hand inside gives it more space, and Batman’s breath stills on Jim’s neck when Jim wraps his fingers around him and gives a slow pull. He has very little room to move. This must be an awkward hand job at best. “This okay?”
“Yeah.” It’s more growled than spoken, and it sounds like fuck.
4 notes
·
View notes