#but i DO still think it's definitely shifted and more people like Merry these days than ever before

[northern-passage]

i went through the whole merry search on your account and i can't believe people used to hate her? how do you not love a messy bitch who starts drama.............

sooo true, anon. unfortunately we live in a world where people hate women 😔 but i will say you're right, it's gotten a lot better recently. i think it has to do with a combination of me really curating my audience over the past year, and in general things are very different now compared to when i started in 2020. more genderlocked companions, more trans characters, and it's pretty common now for games to have poly romance options, as well as love interests that will pursue other characters if the player doesn't show interest in them. (the last 2 being things people really hated Merry for in the beginning)

people definitely still don't like it, but i think they are more of a loud minority now than the loud majority like they were previously. which has been a really nice change to see :-)

[canyouhearthelight]

Nihilus Rex, Ch. 30: Meet the Andovers

Does this read like a fluffy chapter? Absolutely, especially after the previous chapter. However, this is absolutely essential to the plot, as we get to meet Nils' parents - more specifically his mother.

That being said, the side gag going on in this one may read like one of the sillier chapters of "The Miys", but I swear it was entirely @baelpenrose's doing.

Mama's hooked on Mary Kay

Brother's hooked on Mary Jane

And Daddy's hooked on Mary two doors down

Mary, Mary quite contrary

We get bored, so we get married

Just like dust, we settle in this town

On this broken merry go 'round

Kasey Musgraves, “Merry go round”

Lash

I fidgeted with my hair before inwardly cursing myself and forcing my hands to my side. “You promise your mother isn’t as bad as Dr. Andover?” I asked for what had to have been the thousandth time.  Nils meeting Mama and Baba had been spontaneous, something I had been delaying more for my sake than his.  But I knew almost nothing about his parents beyond the fact that their relationship was rough on a good day.

“My mother’s worst sin is that she’s a bit oblivious to how people without money tend to live - despite our church spanning pretty much every economic class in the city. She did, however, take your community’s part in the class action lawsuit against the city, or her firm did, and last I checked, they’re winning. She’s happy to see me putting myself out there again. You two will actually get along great.” I was still distracted from how my meeting with the Parsons had gone. “Oh, and uh. Quick note. My father wasn’t…happy at all with our little stunt with the media originally, but now he’s had time to think about it and he loves you. And the fact that we’re dating. Like actually. Just not for the reasons you’d want him to.” 

So, the rich lady is the nice kind, and the holier-than-thou doctor liked me.  I couldn’t actually figure out which was worse, but all in all they could hate me for a plethora of reasons, so I was taking what I could get. “And we’re having dinner with them? Please tell me it’s something I’m going to recognize.”

“Anything you grew up eating, they wouldn’t recognize. And to be so honest, if I grew up eating it, it’s probably too flavorless for your culture to grant it status as “food,” regardless of official classification. Things you and I have eaten together - actually remember that ritzy Mediterranean fusion place with the Ethiopian and Turkish sections on the menu as well as the southern European countries? The one I took you to a few months ago? That’s where we’re going.” Nils’ voice had shifted all at once from apologetic to confident, as though he knew that at least that, I’d actually like.

My mouth did start watering a bit. “The place with the bad spanakopita and the amazing dolmades?”

“Because where better to take a girl to meet your parents than the sight of your first date. That one. Yes.” He answered with a cocky grin. 

“I can face almost anything as long as I can eat,” I nodded, feeling more confident as I teased as our Uber slowed to a stop. “I’ll even use a fork, just for them.”

“Ah, yes, the table manners of the lower classes, a thing that has been of concern more recently than the long 19th century, that is definitely. What I was concerned about.” He offered me his arm. “Shall we?” 

I took the arm, and brushed my hair over my shoulder one last time. “Let’s…. I hate to say get this over with, but our history of meeting each other’s parents isn’t the best. And that’s considering that my family liked you before you were a hero.”

“My meeting with your parents was going perfectly well before an unpredictable event caused by outside factors with whom we have settled accounts.” Nils spoke in a sarcastic, almost parodical voice that would have been funny if applied to anything else. “No, though. You’re right. If it makes you feel any better, we’re the only terrorists at tonights’ venue. No, uh…my parents like you. My mom for good reasons, my dad for bad ones. Not anything creepy,” he said quickly, “More…deeply self-serving.” 

I tugged his arm.  “Okay, let’s go before I chicken out and make up a cold or something.”

“Oh, I never even considered ‘feign sudden illness’ when your parents were about to show up.” Nils led me into the restaurant, and when we made our entrance at a restaurant for wealthy people, fairly dressed up, we turned heads walking in. He whispered, “Take bets - do we look good, or are we just getting looks for being local heroes?”  He spotted his parents table and led me towards it, pulling out a chair for me and seating me before taking his own seat. 

His mother looked at me, and gave me a reassuring smile. 

“So,” Nils said, almost breathless. “Mom, Father, this is my girlfriend, Lash Botelho. I’m glad you’re finally meeting her formally. Lash, this is Dr. Michael Andover, you met him at the hospital, and this is Katherine Andover, attorney-at-law. Lash is a student of business and computer science, with a minor in graphic design - and she’s an excellent artist on a personal level. We’ve done a bunch of projects together.”

“So you guys met through school,” his mother seemed interested. “And Lash - business, computer science, and graphic design? That’s quite a lot. Heavy course load. I thought Nils was putting on a lot when he was doing computer science, political science, and history at the same time, but if I remember right your course load is even heavier.”

“It helps that I already do a lot of work with nonprofits,” I admitted. “So the computer science and graphic design were areas I already had a solid foundation in.  The business courses are the ones where I’m learning the most new information.”

“Nils says the same thing about poli-sci and computer science - lot of activist work. Doesn’t make it less impressive that you can balance all that with working outside school as well.” She said, quietly. 

Nils’ father broke into the conversation. “You work with nonprofits,” he said, suddenly much more interested. “Which ones?” 

Nils’ eyes got sharp. “Mostly ones that help poor people access resources they need.” 

I saw an opportunity and leapt in with both feet. “Right now, I do a lot with clean water initiatives, to help minimize exposure to insect- and waterborne illnesses. West Nile, Zika, even e.coli.  Things that are easy to prevent but devastating if you can’t afford treatment.”

I saw wheels turning in his father’s head. “Any particular foundations I should look at? Nils is always vetting my charity donations for me, and that sounds like a worthy one.” 

“I actually just took on a contract for one that has developed a straw that filters any water that is fifty-percent or less contaminants into potable water, without a need to boil it.  I’ll find the name and have him pass it on to you.  The proof of concept is just incredible.”

He grunted, with a tone that sounded like he was impressed against his will, and Nils looked back and forth between us, clearly nervous.

Mrs. Andover was back to talking to me. “So, what do you two work on together?”

Nils glanced at his parents. “Guys, you know, this is a lot less… ‘parents meeting my girlfriend’ than I thought it was going to be. Honestly you’re talking like you’re deciding whether or not to invest in a startup.” 

Mrs. Andover started laughing. “Well, Nils, honestly, you tell us basically nothing about this girl. All I know about her is that she’s beautiful, she’s clearly won you over, you two work together, she’s clearly brilliant based on what she’s studying and keeping up with, and now that she does work with some pretty impressive nonprofits. I’m trying to get to know her, and I figure asking about work is less likely to be too invasive.” 

Dr. Andover shrugged. “We also know her father works at the hospital. And that both her parents got hurt in the…”

Mrs. Andover glowered at him. “Wait, both of them? You didn’t…Nils, you didn’t tell me both her parents were hurt, and I suppose my husband couldn’t have for HIPPA reasons. Lash, how are your parents doing? I’m so sorry, I should have led with that.”

Grateful for something a little less formal, I relaxed. “Baba - my father - is home and doing much better than expected.  He lost his leg, but is very determined to learn to use the prosthesis.  His physical therapist actually threatened to take it away because he rubbed blisters from pushing himself too hard.” I gave a small laugh. “It’s good to see, though.  And Mama came home two days ago… she is still on breathing treatments, but off of twenty-four-seven oxygen - she had smoke inhalation damage.  She was very upset she still cannot shout at Baba when he is being stubborn, but my sister found an airhorn from somewhere and no one has had peace since.”  I stopped for a drink of water and noticed all eyes on me. My face flushed and I covered my mouth. “Oh my gosh, I was rambling, I’m so sorry.”

Nils grabbed my hand. “Don’t apologize, I love you.” He blinked. “When you talk about your family, I mean.”  

Mrs. Andover was watching us, oblivious to me trying to process that Nils had just said that, and she started chuckling, abruptly. “I can’t say airhorn is the method I’d have gone with, but…it’s good to know that men are stubborn like that across race, culture, creed, or birth.” Her voice took on the slight timbre of an old poem near the end.

Nils blinked. “Did. Did you just quote Rudyard Kipling at my Indian-American girlfriend?” 

“Pakistani-Indian,” I corrected absently. “And yes, but it’s still very true.  You’re just as stubborn as Baba, you just had more appropriate clothing on.”

His mother blushed, his father didn’t seem to recognize why what his wife had done might have been a faux pas, and I forged ahead to keep things from going south as Dr. Andover changed the subject. “Have either of you eaten here before? It’s a bit upscale from the places Nils prefers, normally.” 

Nils glowered. “I took her here for the first date.” 

Mrs. Andover smiled. “Oh, very nice.” The waiter came by and took our orders, refilling the glasses with water. “This place is really spicy, especially the Ethiopian side of the menu.”

Then his father asked a question, and Nils glared at him with absolute loathing. “So, Lash, you and Nils made quite the effective television appearance. You’re already doing a lot in public service, do you have any designs in a career there?”

Nils squeezed my knee under the table, but this was the one question I had been bracing myself for, thankfully. “Well, my goal is to set up a business that focuses on boosting the visibility of nonprofits, while contributing a significant portion of our revenue into areas where it can create the biggest impact: schools, literacy programs, health education, things like that.  Try to shore up the foundations where normal budgets may not be able to.”  And here’s hoping Nils doesn’t die trying not to laugh at that answer.

“Hm.” Mrs. Andover glowered at her husband as he continued, this was clearly an argument they’d had before, “And those are all worthy goals, but going directly into politics with your education and Nils’, together, you could directly impact all of those, and their budgets, far more direct power with what you can do, if you’re willing to get into the system together and change it.”

I shook my head firmly. “I understand where you are coming from, Dr. Andover, but I’m sure it surprises nobody here that I very much disagree.  Public office is far more restrictive than independent enterprise, foremost - I would have to balance special interests with what would be considered ‘pet projects’, whereas through my own business I can connect the charities with who needs them the most, while ensuring the charities are as visible as possible to maximize their operating budgets.  And besides, Nils doesn’t strike me as someone who would thrive in public office.” I turned to him and visibly squeezed his hand. “No offense.”

“None taken. My father has rarely, if ever, liked the idea of me going into policy rather than running for office, despite the fact that policy experts maintain far more freedom to operate in personal lives while having more influence than politicians - just much less prestige. Honestly I don’t know what led people to believe I’d be good at public office. I gave one very smooth speech on TV.” He took on that slightly mocking tone that I abruptly realized must have been from a lifetime of practice. “Which, to be fair, does seem like the majority of what voters expect. And Father - never try to push my girlfriend into your side of this argument again. I know the only reason you tried to do this is because you thought she’d help me with demographics I’d otherwise struggle with - nice code for ‘people of color that white boy extraordinaire Nils Andover can’t exactly relate to’ by the way.”

I let the silence that followed hang for a moment while the waiter set down our food, before giving Mrs. Andover an openly curious look. “Don’t worry, babe.  I am sure your mother strongly agrees.”  When she looked surprised, I casually gestured with my water. “After all, Mrs. Andover, you’re a non-name partner in a law firm prestigious enough to represent a class action lawsuit against not just the city, but the police, and yet I’ve never seen you run for office.  Surely with that kind of acumen, you would be a shoo-in for the public defender’s office, or the DA.  All the way up to Attorney General, easily.”  Nils looked at me in confusion, and I murmured “You seriously thought I wasn’t going to look up the law firm that is representing my community? She’s partner, Nils.”

“I’m aware how she ranks in her firm,” he murmured back, “I guess I didn’t put that together, good eye.” 

Mrs. Andover chuckled. “Oh, I like the two of you together. Good eye, Lash. People should stay where they think they can make the strongest impact in what they’re passionate about - if you don’t think that’s office, don’t run for office. Oh, and Lash, offhand - I can’t say why, but your community ought to start taking notes about any and all interactions with the police from here on out.” 

Nils smirked. “That means they’re going to be unhappy with the results of the lawsuit.”

Mrs. Andover flicked a wrist. “No, just that her and her community ought to be taking notes and keeping documentation. Any further statements cannot be made at this time.”

“Mama is a secretary,” I assured them. “Taking notes is a compulsion for her, and letting her know will give her something to do other than honk at us.”

“I’m glad. Let her know I’d be happy to speak to her directly as well.” She slipped me a card. 

Nils took a bite of his food, simply enjoying the blend of spices - and then turned to watch his father take a gulp of water. I had been training him to increase his tolerance, and almost certainly to flex he’d ordered one of the spiciest things on the menu. 

Granted, even my tolerance wasn’t that high, so he was almost certainly just hiding the pain to fuck with his parents. I just grinned and scooped up a bite of stew. “I don’t know exactly what they add to the okra stew to make it so good, but it is certainly in my top ten favorite dishes.  Mrs. Andover?” I had noticed she’d ordered the same - a very mild but extremely flavorful stew.

“Oh, it’s excellent. One of the reasons I love coming here. I’m glad Nils took you here for the first date. Means some of what I taught him stuck.” 

Nils blushed. “I mean…good food, good company?” He was dutifully eating his food, but I could hear him struggling not to choke, shifting between pleasure and agony with each bite.

His mother gave him a flat look. “Make a girl feel special, take her somewhere nice with a bunch of really good options.” 

Finally, I had mercy on both my boyfriend and his profoundly rude father and waved down our server. “I am really craving spiced buttermilk… any chance we can get four glasses of it?  I don’t mind paying extra if it has to be made special. I didn’t see it on the menu.”

“Absolutely not. We invited you,” to my surprise, Nils’ father spoke first. “We’ll cover. But yes, spiced buttermilk would be good.” 

In much less time than I expected, the server had returned with four glasses of thick, bright orange drink.  No sooner had he walked away than I took a long sip of mine, rolling my eyes in exaggerated pleasure. “Buttermilk with turmeric, ginger, saffron, cinnamon, and a chai infusion.  It compliments the food so well.”

Nils took a slow sip, clearly restraining himself from chugging, and took a breath. “It is excellent. Thank you for the suggestion.” He took another bite of the chicken, tasting the spice, the flavor, the heat, and then a slow sip of the milk. I could see a slight bead of sweat tracing down the side of his face, and wondered, briefly, about my boyfriend’s pain tolerance. And why he was doing this. 

Mrs. Andover took a sip of her own, eyes widening. “Oh, this is lovely!” She pushed the last glass closer to her husband. “It’s… The closest I can describe it is it’s like a glass of melted orange sherbet. You should try it.”

After the first sip, every ounce of Dr. Andover’s composure collapsed as he inhaled half the glass.  The facade was immediately put back in place however, as he sat up straight and set the glass down gently. “I agree, it’s quite the compliment to the food.  I may indulge in a second, but we shall see.”

Nils took another bite of the berber-slathered chicken, smiling at the taste, and took a sip of the milk before the wave of heat hit him - he seemed to have gotten the timing down, since the facade no longer looked quite so forced. “Excellent suggestion, Lash. Would anyone like to try each other’s dishes?”

Mrs. Andover blinked, but smiled. “Oh, does Lash’s family do that, too? I know the Parsons do, and since Lash and I ordered the same thing…Here, Lash, you can have some of my side if I can have some of yours.” 

I grinned, nodding. “My family eats communal meals, usually, so we all share, yes. But… I didn’t get to try the rosti last time and will gladly swap you for some of my dolmades - they’re not spicy, but very pickled.”

She smiled, and put some of the rostis on my plate and took some of my dolmades. I wisely turned down some of what Nils had ordered, and sensing my trepidation, so did his mother - though we both took some of his side, and gave him a bit of ours. His father blindly lunged ahead, clearly thinking the idea of swapping was ridiculous but not wanting to annoy his wife, and took a bit of Nils’ chicken, and Nils took a bit of the goat from his father, eating it with a smile. 

I could feel the malevolence in Nils smile as his father bit into the berber-slathered chicken and rapidly gulped the milk, all trace of composure gone. “How…how were you keeping your calm through eating that the whole meal?” He managed to get out between gasps.

“I’m dating an Indian-Pakistani girl. She’s been training my spice tolerance.” Nils’ voice was casual. 

Mrs. Andover seemed to be ignoring her son and husband’s antics, instead calmly gesturing with a spoon at her spouse’s meal. “How spicy is that?”  When I glanced at the men, she shook her head. “They’ve always been like that, it’s best not to engage.”

I glanced again, before staring at the goat and trying to remember what had been ordered.  Slowly, I answered. “It isn’t very spicy - I think it’s a bit bland, to be honest - but because it’s so fatty, the spice stays around and builds.  You’re supposed to eat it with a bread or some other carb, to help.”

Without asking, she scooped a chunk of goat onto each of our plates. “Okay, show me. I love trying new things.”

Hesitantly, I tore a piece of bread off, and proceeded to use it to pick a chunk of goat off the bone, sheer habit causing me to use my fingers. The piece came away cleanly, and I shoved the entire bundle in my mouth before realizing what I had done.

To my abject horror, I looked up to see Mrs. Andover - coiffed, coutured, rich Mrs. Andover - with her fingers in her mouth and a look of delight on her face. She chewed quickly and swallowed before I could apologize for my manners. “Oh, that is so nice!  And much easier than using a fork, no wonder he was struggling so much!”

“Ma’am, I am so sorry - “  I covered my mouth as she tore off another piece of bread and attacked the goat with gusto.

“I asked how it was meant to be eaten, Lash.” She gestured at herself, particularly her face. “Do I look like the kind of woman accustomed to eating spicy food properly?” When I was forced to shake my head, half surprised she’d asked like that, she added. “For God’s sake, Lash, do you think for an instant Nils got his sense of humor from his father?”

I glanced at Dr. Andover - still playing spicy-food chicken with his son and losing decisively - before shaking my head. “I just - Eating with fingers is not an American thing,” I finished lamely.

“As Nils will explain to you or indeed anyone at length - and has explained to me, and his father - that is very much an old world prohibition imported from upper-class Europeans, and lower-class Americans only developed issues with it when the average American became wealthy enough to have easy access to silverware. He will remind everyone who even tangentially brings this up how recent that is.” She gave a faint smile. “I wasn’t born wealthy, you know. I’m from the generation of Americans where one could work their way through college provided one started out merely middle class.” 

“ ‘Merely’,” I mused. “And trust me that I am the last person Nils will need to lecture about silverware.  He’s seen Baba eat palak paneer with his fingers and an extreme amount of dignity.” I paused and made a confused face. “I am still not sure how he keeps it out of his moustache, I’ll be honest. And it’s quite a moustache. He’s very proud of it.”

She chuckled. “Fair enough. I suppose I should have said, ‘I’m not judging’. My husband came from money, I did not. I think you and Nils are great together, by the way. I love the way you talk to each other.” 

“We do argue, sometimes,” I confessed. “But usually it’s cultural, and we find our way through pretty quickly.  My parents adore him, so there’s that.  Mori - my sister - tolerates him well enough, which is practically a glowing approval from her.”

“A young man like Nils should have a partner he argues with. If there’s no arguments with a personality like that, it means either one of you is totally bulling over the other by force of will, or both of you are taking turns manipulating the other. Working through arguments when they come up is a much better sign.” She shrugged. “I’m glad your parents like him. I like you - and as to my husband…you impressed him and he respects you and your family. That will, in the long run, be better than him just “liking” you.” 

I caught Nils stabbing another chunk of hallucigenically spicy chicken, and snatched his plate and fork away with the same hand. “I am not going to coddle you later when that is just as spicy as it was going in,” I warned him calmly.  “Rice, sherbet, and buttermilk.”

Nils nodded. “Got it babe.”

Mrs. Andover pulled the dregs of the goat away from her spouse, pointing at me and Nils. “Same thing. Rice, sherbert, dairy. Lash is a lovely and clever girl, stop antagonizing our son, insert lecture here.”  With that, she rested her chin elegantly on her intertwined fingers, winking at me. “I think you and I are going to get along great.  You have my number, let’s set up a ladies’ day - invite your mother and sister.  I’ll treat if your family chooses the restaurant.”

One and a half out of two was a win in my books. “I’ll talk to them about it, see if we can schedule it before Mori heads back home.”

[taechaos]

A Thriller Film

pairing: director!Jungkook x fem!Reader

genre: oneshot, yandere, smut

synopsis: Jungkook's life is his movies, but people don't know his movies are his life. As an anonymous director, no one can suspect him as the villain in a story, but he leaves a clue in his movie about you.

warnings: smoking, stalking, murder, solo masturbation, public fingering

word count: 5.4k

a/n: i don't know why i put so much effort into this but we love to see it flop 🥰

Smoking is bad, but there are worse things in life.

Jungkook noticed you for the first time when a cigarette was hanging off his lips, exhaling the stress from the process of organizing a new thriller film with a less than cooperative crew. Fresh out of high school, you were bright and skipping on the sidewalk in the early hours of the morning. What would such a young woman, applying for colleges left and right, be so happy about?

He didn't know you at the time, but looking at you was like a breath of fresh air. While he survived off of coffee and nicotine, you seemed to have a lot of happiness to share. Your smile was incompatible with his frown.

So he ignored you when you passed him with your earphones blasting a song so loud, he involuntarily caught the lyrics.

Fall... back... in... to... place.

The second time he saw you, he was smoking again and you were just as happy as the day before. How can someone be so in tune with themselves, with life? The same song played from your earphones, the one he listened to on repeat after searching up the lyrics: Space Song. An urge to approach you surged up in him, but he only watched you as you walked past him. A single glance from you was all it took to anticipate tomorrow.

Today, when he recognizes you from your clothing first; colorful, silky, gorgeous. So much personality in one outfit, a polar opposite to his casual black outfit in jeans and a plain shirt. Even your bag is eye-catching, and he flicked the ash off of his cigarette before nodding at you as you passed the bus stop, reaching the front of his studio.

Why did your eyes just widen? You acknowledge him with a friendly smile, and go on your merry way. That is until he lightly taps your shoulder, and you turn instantly.

"Hey," he greets before you can utter a word, "where are you always rushing off to?"

Your lips part in surprise; the man you secretly - guiltily - side-eyed for the past few days noticed you when you weren't looking? "I have an interview. Well, a few," you chuckle.

"For what?" he tilts his head curiously and takes another drag from his stick.

"Career counseling," you plainly reply, but it sounds enthused. "I'm a clueless graduate." Your hands clutch your tote bag before you discreetly check the time on your wrist. You're going to be running late soon.

"You interested in cinematography?" Smoke follows his words, but you aren't fazed.

"I'm interested in all forms of art, why?"

He notices you checking your watch again. "I'm a film director. This is my studio," he cranes his neck behind him. "You can apply for an internship here. Maybe for a stylist even," he points at your floral romper with his chin as his eyes trail.

You shift your weight on your left foot when his stare flusters you, and you consider his flattering suggestion for only a second before saying, "thank you for the offer, but I need to go now," you grimace sheepishly, "can I think about it?"

"Take your time," he reassures with a sly smile and inhales from his stick, filling his lungs with the sweet scent of your perfume alongside.

He doesn't look away when you walk off with a shy wave, entranced by your struts until he's called back in. It's with newfound inspiration that he's inside of his studio.

The storyboard of his upcoming project needs a few tweaks, and he doesn't fail in enhancing his crew with a different idea.

It’s been a week. Okay, it might’ve been shorter, but Jungkook is impatient. Besides, it didn’t help when he saw you holding hands with someone... so less than. It really baffled him to see you with a guy who wore such shabby clothes. He looks like the type that Jungkook would cast for a flop character.

The two of you are like a toy display across his studio in that cutesy, obnoxious café with a smoothie in the middle of your booth. He chuckles as he lights up another stick when he notices the two straws in the single cup. Cliché, cheesy, but cute in a childish sense. Your age shines through the amateur romance between you and that loser.

It especially shows when you look to the side with a laugh and lock eyes with him; so flustered that you gasp and focus back on your date. What makes you so shy about seeing him? You seemed so confident during your conversation two days ago.

He whistles when he notices a stray dog in an alleyway. You look at him as well but don't hear anything beyond the glass wall, but it catches his attention regardless. He whistles again before saying in a hushed voice, "come here girl." It's difficult to suppress a smile when you gaze at him questioningly, as if trying to decipher his words. "Naive little girl," he mouths as he smokes, "what are you doing with that boy?"

He almost chokes when you take out your wallet in front of a waiter; are you paying for him? That's why you ordered one drink - so you could share? Jungkook isn't cruel but, he finds it laughable that your boyfriend is so... unappealing. He can't help but wonder why you're with him; maybe his face? The boy is somewhat handsome, but he only has his facial features to go by. It's rather strange for Jungkook to think about this in the first place, so he gets back inside his workplace after harshly shooing the stray dog away with a stomp of his foot.

"I'd like to start my internship today."

Jungkook runs his eyes up and down your body while leaning against a brick wall. "Paid?"

"I-I'll do it for free. Besides, I don't know if I'll even work in this industry," you twiddle your fingers while smiling up at him. He intimidates you, but this morning you decided you did enough thinking and here you are, an aspiring stylist all of a sudden.

"Get inside," he nods at the door before stubbing his cigarette and following you to his studio. "You know what you're going to do?"

"I'm going to decide the outfits, right?" The place looks cozy to you, with its minimalistic interior design and blunt switch between the stories. The first floor is strictly for business, with lined up cameras, lights and a microphone. There is even a green screen! And the second floor seems to be more of a resting area with its couches and open laptops, but you can't make out much from the entrance. Jungkook starts walking ahead of you, making a beeline for the black stairs. You tail behind him and smile at anyone who notices you, which isn't a lot of people. It's not crowded.

"Right. We're still working on a storyline, haven't finished it yet so it's possible this project might not be published. You with me so far?" he glances at you, and at your firm nod, continues, "when we finish planning, scripting and shit, you come to play."

"So what do I do now?" you innocently inquire and watch him plop down on the red velvet couch. He clicks on the space of his keyboard to light up his screen.

"I have an idea for a character, and I want to know how you would design her," he vaguely explains as he scrolls through his document.

"You want me to sketch it or explain?"

"Let's hear you out first. Irene," he suddenly calls out loudly.

"Yes?" a female responds from downstairs. You see a woman with a grey cap look up at him, her attire nothing short of casual.

"Come here."

She skips a few steps while climbing up the stairs at his command. You're not awkward when you greet her, and she offers a coy smile.

"This girl - what did you say your name was?" he asks you. You tell him and he continues, "she's going to be our intern. I want you to critique her with me."

"What's she in for?" Irene asks before sitting across from him.

"Wardrobe stylist."

Her eyes widen as she takes a second look at you. Your style is definitely unique, but... immature. She has half the mind to not question Jungkook about his choice.

"Okay..." she trails. "I'm Irene, by the way. I'm going to be an executive producer for the upcoming film."

"Nice to meet you," you brightly chirp. "Sir?"

Jungkook smirks at your addressing of him. "Yes?"

"What is your name, if I may ask?"

"I'm Jeon Jungkook, but you may know me for my pen name Shin Dong-hyuk."

Your mouth falls open when you instantly recognize the name. "Wait, what? You directed My Time?" you incredulously wonder aloud.

My Time is a movie that took the world by a storm; it brought recognition to the whole country for its popularity and clever writing. You never knew the name was a pseudonym, however. It's a suspense genre, about the life of a crazed fanboy who is obsessed with a foreign celebrity. He stalks her on the internet, has a fanpage of her and pays a hefty amount of money to strangers to update him on her whereabouts. He's portrayed as a young college student in the story, and inevitably runs out of cash from reckless spending. When she gets into a dating scandal, he goes on a theft spree and flies out to meet and confront her. It ends with her murder when he finds her with another man in a hotel room, and he stabs himself in the heart afterwards. There are a bunch of clues that foreshadow his ending, from his family life to his friendships. It's an amazing thriller, and you researched his name in the credits to find more of his works after seeing the movie but to no avail; there is only one listed.

"That's me," he nonchalantly reveals as if he didn't just give you the shock of your life. "Don't tell anyone though, will you?"

You whimsically put on an imagery zipper over your mouth while trying to recover from your racing heart.

"I don't have a clear outline, but the female lead is going to be naive but charming. She has to stand out, alright? Happy, extraordinary, special."

"We didn't decide on that," Irene butts in with a displeased expression.

"I forgot to tell you, I deleted our previous plan."

"You did wh-"

"What do you think?" he turns to you as he ignores Irene's shrieks. "What color are you imagining?"

You feel nervous when he puts you on the spotlight after revealing his identity. You close your eyes with a deep inhale before answering, "I'm thinking red and green, like Christmas. There should be a hint of white as well."

Jungkook drinks in your outfit before grinning mischievously. "Perfect." All of your colors.

Stalking is bad, but there are worse things in life.

Is it such a bad idea to follow you home when it's dark out? He kept you for a long time in the studio, allowing you to dress up a mannequin with all sorts of costumes you had in mind in the backroom. He's certain you had fun with him when you left with a permanent grin on your face.

You live with your parents, and he knows for sure he's at least 5 years older than you. You look about 19, so he's assuming he's only 8 years older.

A small villa with windows all around, he observes, before glancing back at your bedroom. The lights are on and you're swinging your legs with excitement on your bed after you face planted on the mattress. He didn't see you greet your parents before running off to your room, and he can't help the smile growing on his face at your hyperactivity. It was like an instinct to walk you home in secret and he isn't sure why he is still watching you. He should look away when you get off of your bed and heave your shirt over your chest, but instead he steps away from the lamp post to hide from the light.

You're changing, and he can't take his eyes off of you. As if that wasn't enough, you unclasp your bra without even pulling the curtains. Do you know he's there? The thought excites him, and his pants begin to tighten around his crotch. He lowly whistles at you, but you don't hear him again. You do look outside for a few seconds while stretching your arms, however, and he's certain you have a connection to him.

He leaves when you put on your pajamas with the image of your bare tits imprinted on his mind. He doesn't head home first, as the studio is only a few minutes away from your home and he wants to leave you a gift.

When the familiar building enters his vision, he doesn't waste time in unlocking the door and switching on a single dim light. He rushes to the backroom after locking the entrance for a second time and unzips his jeans as he goes. You were here not too long ago, and he can pinpoint exactly where you stood while striding to each corner with purpose. Bending, crouching, leaning, doing just about anything to tease him.

Now that he can imagine your perky nipples realistically, he immediately takes out his length from his restraints and picks up a random handkerchief to pump himself with. He doesn't stop to think over his actions; he's acting on urges, on impulse. Never has he ever done something like this.

He's rather relaxed as he sits down on an idle stool to close his eyes and run his hand up and down his shaft. What he would do to press your tits against his cock while he slides it up and down, smearing his cum all over your lips while you sleep. You would swallow it without a second thought once he finishes in your gaping mouth, and wonder why there's a dull ache in your breasts the next morning.

His breaths grow shallow the faster he strokes himself, the more he thinks about using every part of you for his pleasure while you're knocked out cold. He involuntarily thrusts into the air while quiet moans slip out of his open mouth. Something about how taboo it would be to fuck you while you're unconscious turns him on so much. Would that be something you're into?

The handkerchief is so soft, so silky against his length, he can almost imagine it to be your hand. He starts twisting his hand around his cock, from the base to the tip as his other hand palms his balls before he begins to reach climax. Strings of cusses fall out of his mouth when he quickens his pace, the fabric against his skin resounding in his ears before he finally spurts out his cum into the cloth.

"Fuck," he exhales as he coats his makeshift glove with his release. White on white doesn't make much of a difference, and he's panting as he folds the handkerchief to rub it evenly so it sinks in completely.

He leaves it on the stool after zipping his pants, and his eyes twinkle under the moonlight on his journey home.

You aren't alone when you walk to work. Jungkook is taking his usual smoke break while watching you swing your interlocked hands back and forth with the guy next to you. Your smiles exude the same aura, and Jungkook sarcastically notes how compatible the two of you are. The boxy grin shines with the sun, but it doesn't hide the boy's worn out clothes.

"Good morning, Jungkook," you greet before introducing your boyfriend. "This is Taehyung, Taehyung meet Jungkook. I'm going to be under his wing until I decide my major."

"Hello, Taehyung," Jungkook coldly says before blowing smoke in his face.

Taehyung scrunches his nose before chirping, "hi!" He then turns to you and whispers, "I thought you wanted to study medicine."

You shake your head dismissively with a light laugh before responding, "it's just an internship." You let go of his hand and bid farewell with a peck on his cheek before going inside the studio.

"Well, have a good day," Taehyung smiles as he's about to leave before Jungkook holds out his hand to block the way.

"Taehyung, who is your girlfriend?"

"Um," he furrows his brows before saying your name.

"And who are you?"

At Jungkook's blunt question, Taehyung pauses and takes a step back. "What do you mean? Like my full name?"

"No, who the fuck are you? What is your contribution to society? What do you do for a living? What are you wearing?"

"Sir, I-" Taehyung's stammering is cut short when Jungkook asks, "how much money for you to stop leeching off of her?"

He scoffs, "excuse me? I'm not leeching off of anyone, and I'm sure as hell not breaking up with her for your money." Taehyung's face heats up from the shameless confrontation, and he starts walking in the opposite direction.

"So you're not going to leave her?"

Taehyung doesn't turn to look at him as he emphasizes, "no."

"Good."

He abruptly stops in his tracks. "What?"

"Your dedication is admirable," Jungkook comments with a shrug. "I'm satisfied with your answer."

"Were you testing me?"

"Bingo."

He starts chuckling before shaking his head. "I always knew directors were crazy; you scared me for a second."

"Where you headed now?" Jungkook smoothly switches the subject, but notes the fact that you've spoken about him to your boyfriend.

"I have a farm two blocks away." When Jungkook raises a brow, he explains, "I stayed the night with her, so I decided to drop her off before leaving."

"Want me to drop you off?"

It's a kind offer, really, but Taehyung is still put off by the insults thrown his way just a minute ago. Doesn't he have work to do anyway? "That's alright, thank you, but I'll just take the bus. Have a good one, Jungkook."

Jungkook doesn't stop him as they both wave goodbye. He doesn't bother putting out his cigarette before going inside.

Where would be a farm only two blocks away from the city center? It has to be a lie.

You're wandering around the place as to not awkwardly wait for Jungkook who sharply inhales at the sight. He calls your name.

"Yes?"

"What do you want to become?"

"I," you look at him funny with a laugh, "I still don't know."

"Then take a gap year."

Your brows shoot up to your hairline. "Why?"

"I want you to be invested in this project completely. Once the planning is finished, I'll give you a salary. What do you think?"

He's asking you to work full-time for him. Not as an intern, but an employee and you are beyond willing after only being here for two days. He's a famous director; how can one pass up this opportunity?

"I'd love that."

You noticed that Jungkook has a very unique way of working. You've heard that he's been keeping his crew until late at night, already having an outline for his plot and he's moved onto screenwriting. He apparently disappears randomly throughout the evening after you leave, and you've had some different experiences with him of your own.

He asked you to steal from the wardrobe of his backroom. "Take everything that you'd wear," he said before stepping out of the room.

When you confusedly compiled all of the clothes that caught your eye under your arm, he took them from you and brought them upstairs with a huge grin. "Keep that one," he pointed at the handkerchief you thought about lacing your neck with.

Taehyung's quiet with you. He doesn't respond to your texts, doesn't call you, doesn't come over. You're too busy spending time with Jungkook to check up on him, and it serves as a well distraction when you keep glancing at your notifications. It hurts, especially when your wallpaper is a picture of you and him. It hurts because he isn't with you in your proudest moments when you were with him even at his parents' funeral.

The only thing keeping you happy is casting. Jungkook asked you to make a list of all the actors that would suit his characters after giving you a vague description of their traits. The budget isn't an issue, and you're having so much fun. He makes you forget your worries without even trying.

Jungkook intimidates you, but he's so lovely.

A mere "aspiring" stylist is casting actors for a movie. How many people can brag about that? You almost stumble on the stairs as you quickly climb up with Jungkook's laptop in your hands. He gave it to you for research purposes as he drew a rough storyboard with Irene.

"I made a list," you exclaim brightly. Heads shoot in your direction and you sheepishly grin at your volume. Jungkook's eyes linger on your covered neck; it's almost like a collar.

He whistles and beckons you to sit next to him. You obey and anxiously present your list to the professionals; you have no idea how to go on about this task, and no one guided you. You're certain you look utterly amateur in front of them.

Irene is inspecting your list without hinting her thoughts as Jungkook asks, "who are your favorites?"

"Well, I think Kim Namjoon is um, suitable for the male lead's role and Joy-"

"It's decided then," he claps his hands twice without hearing out Irene who scowls at him.

"You're not cooperating with us," she voices in a complaint, "why are you always calling the shots on your own? These are major decisions-"

"Ms. Bae, don't take any offence now. I'm taking your opinions into accounts when I make these decisions. Unless you have an issue with something, let's not dwell on this, hm?"

She sighs as you stand there awkwardly. She's upset, but stays silent.

"The two leads are Kim Namjoon and Park Soo-young. The team will decide the rest of the cast, thank you," he informs you with a ghost of a smile.

"Of course," you breathe.

You don't know how long it is supposed to take to shoot a film, but surely it's not this fast paced. Jungkook is relentless with his production; there are hardly any breaks in between takes. There are bags under his eyes from pulling all nighters to work on his scripts.

He is a perfectionist and a hard worker, as you've come to find out. You feel bad for the amount of times the actors recited their lines when they didn't capture a scene right in Jungkook's eyes. It was an honor for you to meet these famous people beyond a screen, and you were strictly ordered to do Joy's makeup only. You are her stylist, but the professional one does help you after she's finished with Namjoon's.

"Cut," Jungkook says into the speaker. You're located in a rented mansion outside of the city, but you can't enjoy it when everyone is so stressed. "Start over from line "he's leeching off of you"."

Even actors can't hide their annoyance from having to do a 25th take of one scene. Jungkook pays them enough to go on with this torture however, so they have no room to complain.

They start over and you force yourself to watch them again and again.

"Oh my god, cut!" You can hardly resist groaning yourself. Everyone on set is overworked, and you know the director has it the worst, but it's overwhelming you too at this point. You flinch when your name is called. "Act Joy's lines, will you?"

"Me?" you point at yourself in surprise.

"Go ahead," he urges with a nod.

You have no idea how to act, and it's nervewracking having to do it in front of A-listers. You pick up the script handed to you from another woman and start reading:

"He's not leeching off of me," you pause to inhale shakily; your hands tremble from the heavy stares on you.

"I'm his family, the only one he has left. No one would know if he was gone, and he trusts me to look after him without having to dangle a dollar bill over his head."

This goes on until the final scene, and the retakes cut down to half.

A few months pass, and it is time for the premiere. The movie, simply titled Pretty Girl, easily got a green light for display in theatres, and it's been heavily promoted on YouTube and TV. You are excited to your core, and watching the celebrities walk the red carpet was a first for you. Jungkook easily blends in with the crowd as he once again didn't reveal his real name in the credits, but his pen name is gaining more and more recognition. You have never seen the movie throughout the editing procedure, but you can't wait to see everyone's efforts show on the big screen.

You're dressed fancily because Jungkook asked you to go with him, and the two of you are sitting in the crowded theatre with not a single empty seat to be seen. Even the entrance is decorated in retro style to fit in with the movie's theme! The jazz music playing in the halls reaches your ears, and your knees are bouncing in anticipation of the movie. Jungkook is smiling as he listens to you ramble.

"I can't believe I played a part in this whole project!" you gush with shaking fists. "I met the best director I know, and I worked for him! This all feels like a dream... No one even likes my style, and yet I became a stylist!"

"I love your style," he denies, "even now you have all the attention in the room."

"Pfft," you roll your eyes playfully, "they all think I must look weird. I tried to wear something classy so I don't stand out, but it hasn't been working out."

"Keep it that way, you're beautiful like this."

Heat creeps up to your cheeks at his compliment and you squeak, "thank you."

He doesn't get to relish your flustered state as everyone goes quiet once the movie starts.

The time period is unclear, as the language is modern but the filter is black and white. The first scene is in a bar, a man in a suit eyeing a woman with a date who is an outcast with his clothes. They're washed out and ugly, but he looks handsome with his dazzling smile at the woman.

An involuntary grin spreads across your face when you hear their dialogue.

"I want to touch someone's shoulder to see how they react. Did you see how they looked at me when I walked in here? I think they think I'm your sugar baby or something," Jimin's character jokes with a laugh.

"I know! They're all so boujee, but I'm willing to be your mommy without sugar," Joy winks. They have fun until Jimin leaves to the bathroom and Namjoon's character approaches her, who has been staring at her ever since they walked in. Joy is offered a modeling career, and she accepts after she's told that her fashion only works with her because of how beautiful she is. She's bashful when Namjoon gives her a business card.

Jungkook's film is only over an hour long, but everything is timed so perfectly. His directory is straightforward, and you admire his work until a song comes on.

"That's my favorite song!" you whisper into his ear. It's Space Song by Beach House.

"Mine too," he whispers back.

There are montages of photo shoots, Joy's rise to fame in the modeling industry, but the trouble is Jimin, her boyfriend. Namjoon confronts him one day when Jimin drops her off to her new workplace.

"How can someone so poor be able to court a woman like her?" he asks rhetorically.

"Excuse me, Sir?" Jimin is offended until Namjoon laughs it off and reveals it was a joke. The audience sighs in relief, and all is fun and games until Jimin is brutally murdered next to a dumpster. You gasp at the gore scene and glance at Jungkook, until something dawns on you.

The story is starting to sound familiar. Was this movie inspired by your encounters? Your eyes light up as you give your utmost attention to the movie. The line between reality and fiction is beginning to blur.

Joy goes to Namjoon's house, where the dialogue you first reenacted comes to play. The shots are gorgeous, the script filled with metaphors on poverty and currency, and the romance is sickly sweet. There is a sex scene not long after... Joy forgets all about her boyfriend in the snap of Namjoon's fingers.

You tilt your head when you remember Taehyung. Where is he? How come your boyfriend didn't even show up to this life-changing experience?

Jungkook's hand slides over your thigh out of nowhere, as he murmurs, "do you mind?"

You stammer when his fingers reach under your dress to poke at your panties. "S-Sorry?"

"I said," he grazes your folds as you tense at the feather light touch, "do you mind if I touch you, pretty girl?"

Your chest heaves as your lashes flutter in a daze, but you nod nonetheless. His low raspy voice already has you clenching your thighs, unintentionally trapping his hand against your pussy. He's gentle, almost curious with the way he runs his fingers over your silky underwear before he moves it to the side. You're shivering with delight and thrill, and you don't take your eyes off of each other as he begins to flick your clit carelessly.

"Looks so pretty on you," he compliments the makeshift choker on your neck. It's his handkerchief you wore for the occasion, unaware that it's dried with cum. He pulls on the knot like it's a collar, and you're entranced. Your pants fan his lips at the close proximity, and he doesn't shy away from slotting his mouth against yours. You quietly moan into the kiss when his thumb starts to rub your clit, and his long finger pokes at your entrance.

"You mind?" he murmurs against your lips, his words slightly slurred as he doesn't stop kissing you. The wet noises are drowned out by the loud volume of the movie, but you can't focus on what's going on.

"I don't," you breathe before he slips in two fingers, exploring your walls with precision. He's multitasking as he circles your sensitive clit, and you're not very experienced in regards to sexual encounters but your hand lands on his hard-on anyway.

"Don't be shy," he chuckles into your neck, "touch it."

You don't know what you're doing when you slip your hand under his pants and palm him over his briefs, but his sigh is encouraging you. You're touching each other in a room of 100 people.

It's embarrassing when his free hand joins yours to help you touch him while simultaneously fingering you. He must have sensed your lack of confidence, because he starts to stroke his erection over your hand. You start to imagine his fingers as the real thing, and with your particularly low stamina, have a hard time suppressing your whines.

"Kiss my neck," he suggests as a solution to your nibbling. You didn't even realize your nether lip is bleeding from how hard you were biting on it. You bury your head in his shoulder and start pecking his neck. He holds back a laugh at how shy you're being, and he feels proud for predicting this moment perfectly in the movie. Joy is having the time of her life with Namjoon, unaware of Jimin decaying in the attic.

He quickens his pace in your cunt, and you bite him rather harshly at the sensation. He hisses with a chuckle; he likes it when you're impulsive. He can pick up the squelches from his thrusts because of how wet you are, and you climax all over his fingers in a matter of seconds with a whimper. You're twitching in your seat, and your hand strokes him faster but he stops you.

"In my studio," he says and you nod tiredly against his shoulder. The issue isn't that he doesn't want to cum in his pants, but the movie needs to become reality. He wants to fuck you on that one stool, with Taehyung's corpse decomposing in the backroom.

Jungkook always adds a pinch of fiction to his stories, but they're mostly based on true events. If you paid attention to the ending, maybe you would've realized that.

Lying is bad, but there are worse things in life.

[aminiatureworld]

Affection

Characters: Albedo, Beidou, Keqing, Zhongli, gn!reader

Word Count: 4,705

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: Sometime we know something is impossible from the start. But still we walk towards it, even if we know it will hurt us. It’s only flirting, only a smile or a hug or some food. Even if nothing comes of it, there is nothing to regret. Even if it hurts.

In which the reader gives affection, expecting nothing in return.

Author’s Note: More “new” characters! I’ve been neglecting Keqing and Beidou, they deserve some love. I hope as always their characterizations live up to expectations! This was very fun to write, so I hope you enjoy it!

I couldn’t tell whether to make this melancholy or fluffy, so I guess I half-and-half-ed it. Best of both worlds, right? Although the tone feels definitely lighter.

Albedo

Your friends never could figure out why you were flirting with Albedo.

“That alchemist has nothing on his mind but work,” one of them once told you, “he’ll never reciprocate your feelings you know.”

“I know.” You’d replied, smiling the sort of smile people put on when they’re trying to show they’re not annoyed. “I know he doesn’t like me in that way, you don’t have to tell me.”

“Then why are you doing it?”

“Because I want to.” You’d shrugged, shifting the conversation to some other topic. In all honesty, it wasn’t as if your friend was lying. But neither were you, not really. There wasn’t any good explanation for why you were flirting with Albedo after all. You knew that he’d never take it seriously, knew you weren’t good enough for it anyways. Maybe that’s why you flirted with him. Maybe it was better to make the slightest fool of yourself than drive yourself mad thinking about something that could never be.

So you continued on your merry, if slightly self-destructive way. Every time you saw Albedo, which was quite a bit considering the fact you were often posted around Dragonspine and spent a lot of your free time in the square right outside his office, you ran his way, asking him what he was doing, or telling him about your own day. You’d developed this habit of leaning in a bit whenever he spoke to you, and the slight pause he gave as his smile grew wider whenever you did made your heart soar.

Not that you ever started thinking there was ever a chance. I mean, come on. Albedo was Albedo and you were you. There was a great deal of distance between the two of you, as if you were standing on opposite sides of a bridge which was liable to fall at any moment. You could shout across at each other, but never did you attempt to walk over to him, knowing it’d surely result in disaster.

Still, why did you flirt with Albedo? The question sort of haunted you at times. You enjoyed his company, you’d even told him you enjoyed his company. He’d smiled his sedate smile, pausing for a moment to look away from the painting he was working on. “I enjoy your company too.” He’d said, before turning back to his work. It was a quiet, calm, even sort of response, just the sort you’d expected. And yet you kept going, and though you made no attempt to push the boundaries or go any farther, you still wondered at times what the point of it was.

Perhaps following that line of thought was a bit dangerous. You found the more you asked yourself what you expected out of your closeness with Albedo, the more absent you seemed to be. It wasn’t as if you were trying to avoid him or anything, no quite the contrary. It was only that you tended to want to be alone when you were thinking about something like this. Reaching out was hard, especially to the person who you were thinking about.

“Are you alright?” You glanced up from the lunch you were pondering over to see Albedo leaning over you. Feeling your cheeks redden you jumped slightly.

“Albedo! Oh I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying any attention to my surroundings! Sit down!” You gestured vaguely to the spot on the bench next to you. Albedo smiled politely, sitting down as directed. He seemed to sober however once he was sitting, scanning your face for something, though you weren’t sure what that something was.

“You seem… absent recently, I was wondering if something was the matter.”

“Oh, I’m perfectly fine!” You shook your hands out in front of you. “I guess I’ve just been sort of busy recently, or maybe a little tired I guess. You know that the festival is coming up, right? Well Acting Grand Master Jean is really running us ragged! But I promise I’ll be back to normal soon!” You laughed awkwardly; it wasn’t as if you weren’t telling the truth per se, just… not the whole truth. But you’d rather not put all your troubles on Albedo, not when he was reaching out to see if you were okay. Smiling once more you attempted to switch topics. “How’s your research? Have you found something new while I’ve been gone?”

“Yes, I’ve begun to study the reaction between macrophage and eukaryotic cells in contrast with prokaryotic cells, and how adding elemental effects to reactions either speeds up or slows down the reaction. But I’m glad to hear you’re alright,” Albedo seemed to relax a bit, leaning backwards slightly on the bench, “everything has been much quieter with you gone. It’s unnatural, I can’t focus as well. I keep finding myself distracted by little things. I look forward to participating in our conversations once more.”

“Well I’ll be there soon!” You promised, heart fluttering slightly. Did he really mean that? I mean sure, it didn’t mean anything more than what was on the tin. Your situation hadn’t changed that much. Still, it meant something to you that Albedo wasn’t just tolerating your presence, that he was actually somewhat involved in your friendship. “I promise I’ll have some very interesting topics of conversation when I come back.”

“Good.” Albedo nodded once more before smiling slightly sheepishly. “My workspace is currently going through a cleaning and the lab isn’t supposed to let any foreign substances in in; would you mind terribly if I ate with you?”

“Not at all!” You responded. “I love spending my free time with you. What have you brought?”

Why did you flirt with Albedo? Why did you seek out his presence despite you and everyone around you knowing full well that it was never going to come to anything? What did you even think of Albedo? Well you could answer that last one at least. You loved him. You loved him very much. And even if he didn’t reciprocate the way you did, even if your friends told you it was pointless and your mind chastised you for putting yourself through the ringer, even if all that was true, you weren’t going to stop. Because you were Albedo’s friend and he was yours. And for now that was enough.

Even if a part of you continued to hope that one day this would change.

 Beidou

Beidou was utterly out of your league and you knew it.

It wasn’t exactly a difficult conclusion to come to after all. Brash, outspoken, good with a sword, Beidou embodied that sort of restless, self-reliant spirit you wish you yourself could emanate.

It didn’t hurt that Beidou had essentially rescued you from destitution, having found you languishing in a corner of one of the seedier docks of Liyue, and having taken you in quickly after the fact. You owed her a great deal, and was glad to do so. After all you’d fallen hopelessly in love with Beidou.

Life aboard a slightly illegal ship was bound to be an intimate one. Everyone knew everything about everyone else, and it was very difficult to find someone that hadn’t heard about your crush. Someone who wasn’t Beidou, that was. Although it wasn’t like you attempted to hide it; you just never brought it out in the open. And who could blame you? How could anyone who’d nearly died of starvation waiting for some sort of divine help compare to the bravest captain you’d ever met?

So you two settled into a routine of sorts, at least in your mind. You ate every meal as close to her as possible, something which had been difficult at first but as the “secret” spread around became almost comically easy, you discussed your plans with her first, gave her various trinkets you’d found in your travels, asked her opinions about your weapon then asked her to train with you. The training sessions had almost killed your resolve not to tell her, nothing was so intimate as having someone constantly checking your posture, moving and arm here a leg there, closely monitoring how you moved and acted.

All the while you said nothing. It felt selfish after all to even think about it. Beidou had many a time told her crew that they were one big family. On top of the obviously platonic motives behind her love for you, you weren’t about to impose on the crew by trying to take the spot as favorite or partner. It’d make you feel sleazy.

But damn if sometimes your resolve wasn’t tempted. It was the night after a particularly successful raid, and everyone was drunk out of their minds. Even you were tipsy, although compared to the rest you were positively sober. Sitting next to Beidou, who was walking up and down the tables making speeches of various levels of comprehensibility, you thanked the archons above that this woman had saved you. It was all worth the pain and suffering, if only to see her smile, which was blinding at the moment.

“You were brave, my dear compatriots! Distinguished! Honored! Positively courageous!” Beidou let out a slight “hic”, her vocabulary always did turn a bit grand when she drank too much. “Indeed, I’m sure not even the greatest of emperors had an army which could rival the visage of our band of brothers! Storming the deck, why we all might’ve perished! Damned visions, they’re for cheaters! For fraudsters! You all fight without them, and in doing so you prove yourself far more valiant, far more exemplary than they do!” Evidently Beidou had forgotten she herself was a vision wielder. Then again, so had everyone else.

“On this night of victory, of perilous and prestigious triumph, I wish to congratulate the greatest of warriors! This! My proverbial right hand man, the distinguished…” Beidou turned around towards you, gesturing in a very flamboyant sort of manner. You stood there, shocked by the sudden attention, blushing deeply, brain so filled with awe that you only half realized Beidou couldn’t remember your name.

“Yes! This person, this noble scalawag!” Beidou lifted you up so you were standing next to her, archons was she strong. “Now I don’t believe in laws, but if I did I’d marry them I would! You all ought to be more like them, mark my words I want to see some shaping up! There are no levels on this ship, but if there were they’d be higher than you all! Pay attention to my words, they are final!” And with that, speech apparently over, Beidou planted a soft, if slightly messy, kiss on your cheek.

If it weren’t for the people around you, you might’ve fainted.

The next day announced itself with a headache, though as the least hungover of the group you were put in charge of dishing out the medicine and water. The whole ship appeared to be groaning, and though the crew was usually quite active and excited at almost any hour of the day, you could tell that most of the men and women just wanted to roll over and go back to sleep.

“Captain wants to see you when you’re done with your rounds.” There were a few other people helping you out, and the one that informed you about this raised an eyebrow as you promptly turned white as a sheet, before a splotchy shade of red covered your face. What was she going to say? Had she remembered what had happened the night before? You admitted to yourself that maybe banking on Beidou forgetting was a doomed cause from the start. Beidou was perhaps brash and a lover of alcohol, but her memory was sharp, and she somehow managed to never drink herself to total incompetence. If you challenged a drunk Beidou to a duel your chances were going to be about the same as if you’d challenged her sober. Hell maybe they’d be even worse. With that grim thought in mind you distributed the last of the medicine, wiping your hands needlessly on your clothes before walking towards the captain’s cabins.

You loved Beidou’s cabins, they somehow seemed both incredibly grand and inexplicably homey. With furniture made out of a plush and luxurious red sort of material, it was nonetheless crowded by knickknacks; drawings, carvings, and other such paraphernalia littered the shelves and the dressers. Beidou had once told you almost all of it was from current or former shipmates. The luxuries they stole had no use in her home.

“Captain Beidou?” You ventured. The captain was at her desk, scribbling out something, probably a plan. She loved to plan in her free time, whether or not the plan was something doable or a total fantasy. Now she looked up, setting her pen down and smiling her classic, cocky grin.

“Ah, my favorite shipmate. How’re we feeling today?”

“W-well!” You managed to get out, a bit distracted by the nickname. Ah, it seemed she had remembered at least part of it. “Um, captain, I was told you wanted to see me.”

“Yes, I did. I’ve been thinking since last night, thinking a great deal, and I was wondering, what would you think to becoming my partner, in a, well, romantic sort of sense.”

“So suddenly?” You replied, eyes widening but nevertheless cracking a smile. Beidou’s confession had been blunt, devoid of all the usual flourishes. And yet it was what you wanted, what you’d always wanted.

“Well why not?” Beidou shrugged nonchalantly. “After all considering how you’ve been acting towards me for the past few months, I figured why not become my partner. Unless I’ve been reading you wrong of course.”

“No!” You exclaimed. “I mean yes, I mean, well yes to the first and no to the second. I’d love to become your partner, and you haven’t been reading me wrong.” Your gaze dropped to the floor. “I just figured I wasn’t good enough. I mean you’re… you. And besides, you said we were all a family. I figured you wouldn’t want me as a partner.”

Beidou raised her eyebrow slightly as her smile melted into a smirk. Shaking her head slightly she approached you, raising your gaze every so slightly. “Well I can tell you right now I’m not too good for you. Not only are you good with a weapon, but you’re about as tough and fearless as they come. I don’t want to hear about how you’re secretly scared or whatnot. Everyone is that doesn’t matter. But you fight well and without second thought. And I admire that. And as for the speech about family, well a romantic partner is family of some kind. Besides the crew won’t mind, they’ve been talking about it for ages.”

“I guess they have.” You blushed; apparently Beidou hadn’t been as uninformed as you thought.

“Any last words before you’re my partner?” Beidou’s smile was as wide as you’d ever seen it and just as infectious; you grinned back.

“I love you.”

“Good. Now,” Beidou smiled, planting a soft kiss on your cheek and then a peck on your lips – something which left you grasping for coherent thought “let’s tell the others.”

 Keqing

Working with Keqing was an experience akin to slowly dying inside.

You’d become somewhat enamored with the Yuheng of the Liyue Qixing ever since you’d first met her. Her brusque and honest manner was refreshing, and when listening to her talk about the archons, about Liyue, about how the past and the present tied together, you never really seemed to question her. She always gave off the impression of intelligence, and, unlike some others you’d met, she had the brains to back it up. And what could you say? Before you knew it you had a crush on her.

Yet working with her showed other sides of Keqing too. She was very self-conscious when it came to compliments. Not that she minded them per se, as one time you’d asked her if your constant praise was a bother. “I just never know how to respond.” She’d admitted, and to be fair you understood that. But as long as she told you she liked them you’d compliment her.

Of course you knew it could never go beyond that. Keqing was your coworker; she was your superior in almost every way, both in occupation and in character. She never lost her cool or found herself off guard when fighting treasure hoarders or when dealing with rowdy citizens. She was efficient, capable, and aware of her incredible abilities. And she didn’t feel the need for a partner, something she had told you every time someone else worked up the courage to ask her out. You couldn’t bring yourself to impose on her like they did, not when you knew what her answer would be.

It was a slightly disheartening existence, and indeed sometimes you wondered what the point of it was, wondered if you shouldn’t just quit. But that wouldn’t be fair, not to Liyue, and not to Keqing herself. She relied upon the other members of the Liyue Qixing  to work efficiently and without sudden disruption. And the sudden quitting of someone who was hardly at the bottom of the ranks would’ve certainly done just that.

Besides, Keqing was first and foremost your friend. It was a bit of a fragile friendship, yes, but it was friendship nonetheless; and you valued that friendship well above your own infatuation. If you had to bottle your feelings up so be it. You owed it to Keqing to keep it together, to not impose on her what she obviously didn’t want and to not punish her for it by drawing away. So it hurt, so what? A lot of things hurt, doesn’t mean they aren’t worth doing or experiencing. And this was certainly one of those things.

It was late evening, and most of the cubicles were dark. You sat, writing the last few sentences of a report, trying to ignore the headache that had been developing since earlier that day. A friend had attempted to set you up on a blind lunch date, and though you appreciated their motive the whole thing had been a chore, and now you were late on your work.

“Almost done?” Keqing’s voice broke through your mental grumblings. Looking up at her you nodded, and Keqing smiled in satisfaction. “Good. Can’t have one of our best workers getting sick on account of working too hard.”

“I won’t get sick.” You assured her. Finally stamping the paper you let out a sigh leaning back in your chair.

“A difficult day?”

“You could say that,” you admitted, “a friend went on a slightly appreciated but incredibly unnecessary mission to get me to go out on a date. Honestly, I’d rather her just treat me to lunch.”

“I can understand the feeling.” Keqing frowned in sympathy. “People are too obsessed with the idea of romance, so much so it blinds them. There are more important things in this world.”

“I’d say most people consider love pretty important.” You commented. Keqing shook her head in response.

“Perhaps, but aren’t ideals better than individual wishes? Romance may be fun, perhaps, but there are other things to consider. Besides, I find your company far more enjoyable than I would any date.”

“You do?” You responded, heart fluttering slightly; you hoped Keqing didn’t notice the blush spreading across the bridge of your nose and coloring your cheeks. Luckily it was slightly dark in the office.

“Oh certainly,” Keqing waved her hand dismissively, “you’re the best coworker and friend I’ve ever had. No significant other could give me advice like you do, or help me so much when I’m struggling with work or with my thoughts, and dates are so formal and boring and awkward compared to spending an afternoon with you. Really I’m perfectly content relationship wise with our friendship. Relationships are full of pitfalls, people keeping this little thing from their partner, or omitting that little act. No, better to have an open and supportive friendship like we do.”

“I’m glad you think so.” You replied, and really you did. You’d known since day one that a romantic relationship was off the table. So if you could stay by Keqing’s side and support her, if only a little longer, then you’d be perfectly content.

Even if a part of you still wished that things could’ve been different.

 Zhongli

To be fair to Zhongli you weren’t sure how much he understood of any type of human relationship. The fact that the Geo Archon had befriended you in the first place was an achievement in itself.

And yet he had befriended you, and soon you’d found yourself falling in love with the slightly aloof, slightly out of touch geo archon. Zhongli was much more than that of course. Surprisingly open, the ex-deity took to finding out information about humanity with zeal. Always eager to ask you questions and to hear about how your day had gone or how you felt after something particularly happy or sad or gratifying, Zhongli had morphed into a pseudo confidante for you. Someone you found yourself relying on more and more. His gentle nature didn’t hurt either, or his looks for that matter; all in all Zhongli seemed like the perfect sort of person, and though you knew that you’d never be able to measure up to an archon, you found yourself unable to suppress the overwhelming love you felt for him.

Zhongli didn’t seem to mind your openness at all, indeed he sort of relished it, or at least he seemed to. Every time you reached out to grab his hand he gladly slipped it into yours, and whenever you ran up and hugged him after a long period of not seeing one another he always hugged you back. He’d eat lunches with you, and sometimes dinners, and sometimes weekends were spent running around Liyue, or at home listening to one another’s stories or reading one another’s books. It’s truly a magical sort of feeling to share a book with someone. But then again with Zhongli everything seemed magical.

Of course affection aside the whole matter never crossed the line of friendship. You never told him of your affections, and in return Zhongli never initiated anything further than conversation. Not that it bothered you; you felt there was a bit of a gap between you and Zhongli. After all surely it was idealization which caused you to recognize that someone like Rex Lapis had no want or inclination towards engaging in a relationship with a mere mortal. Facts are facts, and there’s no changing them, no matter how much you wanted to.

And yet how odd fate is.

“What is being in love like?”

You looked up at Zhongli, trying desperately to act as if you hadn’t felt your heart rate spike to unhealthy levels.

“Uhm… what do you mean what is love like?”

“I’ve noticed mortals are very enamored with love. I have to admit, my experience with romance is minimal; archons and adepti seldom see romance as something that affects them. But I want to know, as a human, what is love like to you?” There was no mockery or sense of superiority in Zhongli’s face. Not that you expected there to be. Zhongli never looked down upon humans as unequal. Many times he’d told you he admired them. Taking a breath you thought of your answer.  

“Well… hmm. Love is very different for everyone. To some love is like an inferno; it’s very sudden and very intense. It sort of burns them up, it’s all they think about. I think that’s less love, more infatuation, but to some that is indeed love. To others love is sort of… staid. It’s being able to rely on them, to talk to them about anything and everything without feeling embarrassed or like you have to put on some sort of show. It’s knowing that there’s someone who will always side with you or help you realize what’s right, or be there when you feel terrible. To them love isn’t passionate, it’s comforting.”

“And to you?” Zhongli interrupted, a look of thoughtfulness on his face.

“Well to me it’s somewhere in the middle, I suppose to most people it’s somewhere in the middle. And this is only romantic love after all. Love is so big, so all encompassing, I think it’s hard to pin down. But to me romantic love is both; it is the passion that causes people to do crazy things and espouse crazy sorts of ideals, and it is the staid comfort of knowing there is someone who will always understand you, and always support you in that understanding.” You paused, realizing you’d been prattling on a bit. “Why, may I ask? Is there a reason you want to know.”

“Yes,” Zhongli admitted, voice slightly less calm than usual. “I, I’ve been thinking about my feelings towards someone a great deal recently; they’ve been alien, although not distressing per se. They feel as if I’m always on some sort of edge, but I don’t feel upset by it. Instead I want to approach it, want to be around the person who makes me feel that way. I wanted to understand that emotion more. I wondered if it was love. Thank you for answering my question, it was most enlightening.”

“That person must be very lucky.” You replied, keeping your tone as light as possible, trying to ignore your emotions, which had risen and dropped so very quickly. “I suppose I’ll have to lay off on the affection now. Part of love is sometimes being a little bit jealous, at least in the beginning, at least for some people. It’s silly, really, but I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that.” Zhongli’s tone was surprisingly wry, as if there was a joke somewhere you’d missed.

“Why?” You asked, brow furrowing slightly.

“Because the person whom I was enquiring about is you.”

Honestly you would’ve been less surprised if Zhongli had told you that he was going to run away from Liyue and join the circus. All you could manage to sputter out was: “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure!” Zhongli chuckled slightly. He raised his hand, gloved fingers ghosting your cheek as he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear. “I’ve suspected it for some time, but I wanted to be sure. Are you alright with me telling you this?”

Alright? You were over the moon! Had you ever been this happy before? You weren’t sure, but you were happy now.

“Of course it’s alright. Zhongli, I’ve liked you for months now.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” Zhongli tilted his head slightly in confusion. You stared down at your hands, slightly embarrassed.

“I thought I wasn’t good enough for you. I mean you’re an archon and I’m a mortal. I’m hardly different from the other people of Liyue, and I just, I don’t know, I was scared of rejection, I was scared you’d think I was overstepping and that our friendship would crumble. And I didn’t think I could stand that.”

At first Zhongli said nothing, instead he held out his hand. You gladly placed your palm in his, comforted by its warmth.

“You shouldn’t hold yourself so cheaply,” Zhongli spoke softly, “there are a great many extraordinary things about you. Your affectionate nature, your determination to live even when the world is dark and dangerous, your willingness to open your heart to some ancient archon who knows little of humans. If that’s not extraordinary, I don’t know what is. I don’t feel towards anyone as I do towards you, at least I haven’t in a long time. So don’t think of yourself that way anymore, please.”

“I won’t.” You replied. And it was true. You knew you wouldn’t be able to, not anymore. Zhongli would make sure of that, already you could tell.

To some love burns like fire in the mind, to other it wraps you up in a blanket of comfort. You felt incredibly lucky, for you despite yourself demanded both, and somehow fate had bestowed it upon you. And for that you would be forever grateful.

[sluttyten]

Adore You

Poly Orgy Series: Part 9

Poly Series Chapter Index

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

length: 32.4k words

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But she’s settled already, it appears. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like what?”

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

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

WinWin tries to hide a smile. 

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

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

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

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

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

“And I love you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Baby?”

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

“Baby, wake up.” 

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

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

“Mm, what?” You yawn. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your mother clears her throat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dad!” You exclaim. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You do. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He swears.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Remember what?” He asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You look around at all of them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mark swears again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, babe.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can only hope.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” Your face heats up. “How?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Thoroughly!” You call out after him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You flush at the compliment. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, I.... are you sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“For luck,” he tells you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come in!” You call out.

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

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

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

And your heart sinks. 

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

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

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

“What is it?” Your voice sounds hoarse.

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

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

“Why?” You ask, your voice quiet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mark mumbles something that you can’t quite catch.

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

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

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

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

So you know Lucas has talked to her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi, Chae.”

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

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

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

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

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

Jeno leaves the room quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

WinWin’s mouth forms a round O.

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

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

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

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

You love it, and absolutely need to feel it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He slides right into you with a low moan.

Right beside you, WinWin moans too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You moan around Xiaojun.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He grinds forward, and you press back on him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were thirty-five weeks along when it happened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ten.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I hear them?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nods. Ten makes sympathetic noises.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My wits and charms.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Doyoung---”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The time for the truth has finally come.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod. You’re very tired. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You think she’d be adorable with his dimples.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well?” Jaehyun asks from across the room. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” 

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

Yuta, Kun, Jaehyun, and WinWin. 

One of them is the father. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He scoops her up in his arms. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jaehyun groans and rolls his head back on his shoulders. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s me.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi, daddy.”

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

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

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

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

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

WinWin grins. “Thanks, Yuta.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[readinginthereadyroom]

let’s talk about christopher and santa claus for a minute. 

because the thing is. that kid is a national treasure and possibly magic. because he has santa’s ear. direct line to christmas miracles. 

and the best part is. it’s canon. 

but before we get to that. we need to talk about eddie being scared of santa when he was a kid. about the difference in eddie and christopher’s childhoods.

because eddie’s childhood lacked magic. santa wasn’t a right jolly old elf with a red suit and a belly laugh. just a creepy guy with a fake beard who smelled bad. a stranger he was forced to go see. that scared him so much he got sick. twice.

christopher’s childhood tho. filled with magic. when he was little and not feeling well (maybe around one of his surgeries?) and missing eddie. shannon caves. tries to cheer chris up with a giant tree for the backyard. but we didn't have enough ornaments to cover it, so we just loaded it up with lights and ribbon. I got the sleeping bags out, and we laid under it, just staring up at the branches for hours.

which is the most magical thing I’ve ever heard.

so really it’s no surprise that christopher believes in the magic of christmas. the power of santa. miracles and the christmas spirit. 

because christopher only asked for one thing that christmas. one very specific gift. not toys. not candy. he just wants his dad. w-when you were gone, I asked santa for you to come back, and you did.

which makes me wonder what time of year it was when eddie’s helicopter was shot down. did he arrive home in time for the holidays? with his wrist in a cast and his arm in a sling and propped up by a cane. wounded but alive. home for the holidays. which is all that would matter to little christopher. that dad’s back. dad’s staying. forever.

and since christopher’s wish came true before. since santa came thru before. why wouldn’t it work again? because christopher’s got his dad. a new life, in a new city, with a new best friend. and everything is perfect. everything except the lack of shannon. christopher misses his mom. so he forgoes toys and candy once again. goes with eddie and buck to see santa. I asked him to find mom. will he?

the answer is yes. because she’s already back. has been for a while. eddie’s just been reluctant to let shannon see christopher. because he’s scared she’ll break his heart if she decided to leave again. because eddie doesn’t believe in magic. and I think that includes happily ever afters. 

but christopher believes in magic and wishes. and eddie knows that. and he’ll do everything in his power to keep it that way. cause he loves christopher more than himself. loves that he believes in magic and miracles and santa.

because it allows eddie to believe thru christopher. just for a second. but seconds accumulate. grow. build. into something magical all eddie’s own.

so they get another giant tree. cover it in ribbons and lights. turn the floor into a wrapping paper treasure map for christopher to follow into the front yard. where shannon is waiting. mommy! mommy! I missed you so much. I knew Santa could do it again.

and then so much happens. by the time next christmas rolls around shannon has died and christopher’s survived a tsunami. and eddie has to work thru the holiday. buck too. christmas is ruined. 

we don’t see chris talking about santa this year. or to santa. I think that’s probably on purpose. this year is about the absence of christmas spirit. and how that absence radiates out into their lives. chris storming away. giving eddie the silent treatment. buck saying he’s working too.

missing pieces. lack of communication. absent people.

but you cannot convince me that when the holidays go awry. that christopher won’t turn to his old pal santa to fix this particular problem. that he won’t ask for another christmas miracle. that his family can be together for the holidays. christopher and his dad and his buck. it tracks with christopher’s history.

and the thing is. santa comes thru. via buck. who plans a surpise holiday party at the 118. ropes athena and maddie into gathering their friends and family all together. throws the biggest holiday party in the history of the firefam.

and now I’m thinking the s5 holiday episode would be the perfect time for buddie to go canon. buck and eddie have been getting closer since their begins eps. they’ve both grown as people. tried other relationships. neither of which work out. both of which they choose to end. 

actually, yes. I am into this. and here’s how it happens:

the sniper and the blackout puts things in perspective. which leads to eddie to breaking up with ana. buck realizes where his priorities are and he breaks up with taylor soon after. that’s when the shoulder bumps and playful banter starts to ramp up. they’ve always been in each other’s space and at each other’s homes. now it’s just more. buck and eddie become buck&eddie. 

there’s no big declaration or passionate kiss. 911 doesn’t really do that. what we will get is a buddie hug after a too-close call that lingers a little too long. and eddie doing his sustained eye contact thing. and buck reciprocating with his eye flutter thing. then eddie reaching with his hands. then buck’s blinding smile. then...

END CREDITS. because it’ll hurt so good. 

mid-way thru the next ep we’ll get confirmation in the form of carla. she’ll stumble over buck coming out of eddie’s room. there will be a little light teasing. it’s about time interspereced with domestic fluff. they will keep it to themselves for now. 

and then eddie’s parents guilt trip him into going to texas for the holidays. buck has a christmas eve shift, but has christmas day off. and plans with maddie, chim, albert, and the hans for jee-yun’s first christmas. plus holiday dinner with athena and bobby’s family. he’s not going to be alone. 

doesn’t feel that way tho.

and then there’s a scene at the airport that mirrors the end of s1. only instead of abby leaving it’s eddie and christopher. with buck and eddie both pretending to be okay. neither of them are. 

cue eddie in texas. where everything goes wrong. of course it does. helena and ramon keep making jabs about how eddie’s raising christopher. they will never think he’s enough. even worse they don’t treat christopher like an autonomous person. but a consolation prize. a parenthood do-over.

and eddie’s miserable. christopher’s miserable. they both miss buck.

there’s definitely a firefighter santa involved. a lesson about family being who you chose. christopher won’t stop talking about last christmas at the station. about buck.

which is why. when everything comes to a head over christmas eve dinner. eddie makes an executive decision. books a red-eye flight and bundles him and christopher off to the airport. 

buck’s out on a call when eddie and christopher arrive. it was only a 2 hr flight but it’s still really late. they both conk out on the sofas. and that’s where buck spots them when the trucks pull into the station. he’s doesn’t go all the way over to them. just watches them from afar. like he’s always done. 

until eddie wakes up. sees him watching. reaches his hand out to buck and drags him into their space. physically connects the three of them. kisses his hand. merry christmas buck. 

neither buck or eddie notice that chris is also awake. watching them with a mischieveous smile on his face. because christopher believes in magic. the christmas spirit. santa claus. and apparently santa claus believes in christopher because that man has granted each and every one of his wishes.

dad. mom. family. buck. 

christopher has been slowly building his own family. via christmas miracles and the help of his good friend santa claus. 

outside the window it starts snowing.

and it feels like magic. 

[j3tblackw1ngs]

Saiki K Christmas Headcanons

Kusuo Saiki

☆ as usual, Saiki will pretend not to care about the holidays at all

☆ yet despite “not caring,” he still ends up celebrating with you at a Christmas party

☆ for the most part, he’s in the corner drinking hot chocolate and watching everyone celebrate

☆ but when you guys put on a movie (and everyone shuts up lmao) he actually gets really invested

☆ i feel like he probably loves Christmas movies because they’re dumb and somewhat unpredictable, and there are so many of them so he won’t get spoilers

☆ he won’t admit this if you ask

☆ you don’t expect him to get you a gift, but despite everything he says, he really cares about you

☆ you don’t know how it gets there, but on Christmas day you find a present with your name on it under your tree

☆ he didn’t put his name on it, but it’s definitely from Saiki

☆ and it isn’t fancy or extravagant but it’s thoughtful and kind of perfect

☆ (you thank him with coffee jelly later)

Kaidou Shun

☆ he thinks about what he’s going to get you a long time before Christmas

☆ he wants it to be completely perfect so you know just how he feels about you

☆ (ask him though and he’ll say something about how Christmas is “just for mere mortals” or how he’s celebrating it to uphold his human identity lmao)

☆ the gift he gets you is thoughtful, but his Christmas card is what stands out

☆ Kaidou really has a way with words, and he pours his heart into it

☆ when you thank him he’ll get really flustered, but he’s overjoyed that it made you happy

☆ (i also feel like he really loves Christmas songs, but he tries to keep it a secret because it’s not “cool“ or whatever. but one day you catch him belting out Mariah Carey and he gets so embarrassed ajsfsjdkjdsf)

Nendou Riki

☆ honestly i feel like Nendou gives really weird gifts 😭

☆ but it’s really the thought that counts, right?

☆ he’s a good cook, so i also like to imagine that he bakes Christmas cookies during the holidays

Kuboyasu Aren

☆ i feel like Christmas probably wasn’t a big thing when Aren was in his gang

☆ so he’s really excited to celebrate it with all his new friends

☆ he’ll entertain you and anything you want to do with him

☆ it’s not that he’s disinterested, it’s just that seeing you happy is what he appreciates most

☆ when it comes to his gift, he doesn’t want to disappoint you

☆ he knows that you’ll be appreciative about anything, but he wants it to express everything he feels about you, as he isn’t the best with words

☆ (considering how he acts in the episode where he gets the confession, it’s clear he takes his relationships really seriously)

☆ i feel like he’s the type of person to get you something you mentioned wanting offhand once

☆ something you wouldn’t have expected him to remember or notice in the first place

☆ of course, you love it and that makes him feel so proud of himself

Teruhashi Kokomi

☆ Teruhashi would give you exactly the right gift

☆ basically just what’s expected of her (she is the perfect pretty girl after all)

☆ she stops by your house to drop it off, but she ends up roped into some activity because of course your family loves her

☆ but she’s secretly really happy about it because she wanted to spend time with you

☆ she catches you under the mistletoe multiple times just by sheer luck

Yumehara Chiyo

☆ i feel like Yumehara loves the whole Christmas season and the romance of it

☆ she definitely watches a lot of cheesy Christmas romcoms

☆ she makes you a really lovely card and a thoughtfully made gift

☆ she also tries to strategically place mistletoe for you to “accidently” find yourselves under

Aiura Mikoto

☆ of course, Aiura always makes it known how much she loves and cares about you

☆ Christmas is no exception

☆ i feel like she goes all out for these kind of things

☆along with a main present she gets you little stocking stuffers

☆ little keychains or lip gloss if you wear makeup

☆ and she definitely gets all her friends little good luck charms, probably based of your zodiacs or something

☆ she won’t let you say that it’s too much

☆ "don’t worry about it, i get tons of cash from fortune telling anyway!”

☆ she also definitely loves singing Christmas songs with you

Mera Chisato

☆ she’s really poor, so she can’t get you anything extravagant

☆ her favorite part of Christmas is obviously the food

☆ she works extra shifts to get gifts for her siblings and one for you

☆ she’s worried that it’s too small, but you love it

Saiko Metori

☆ Saiko has probably been giving you things all season

☆ like a twelve days of Christmas kind of thing

☆ he doesn’t take no for an answer when you tell him it’s too much

☆ (but he pretends he’s only doing to flex, despite not getting anything for anyone else)

☆ on Christmas day, you think that he’s probably lonely in his big house with only his body guards to keep him company

☆ so you suggest that he spends Christmas with you

☆ of course, because he’s still kind of a jerk, he’s like

☆ “why would I want to spend Christmas with you instead of in my huge mansion with all my presents and money?”

☆ “Christmas isn’t all about presents and money. it’s about spending time with the people you love”

☆ he kind of short circuits when you say that, because he can’t believe you love him or that it’s separate from his money

☆ so he spends Christmas at your house

☆ it’s one of the best he’s had in a long time

A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! 

I know it’s technically not Christmas anymore (it’s just past 12am where I am), but I really wanted to post this. Thankfully I’m finally free from the shackles of school (at least for a bit), so hopefully i can write a lot more (i’d love to hear any requests you have). if you don’t celebrate, i hope you had a great day anyway <3

[corpsedaydream]

not such a merry christmas

corpse husband x reader

-

hi hi so it’s 4:20am lmao i’m not kidding

so i know i said i wasn’t going to be on over christmas but christmas wrapped up late for me and i wasn’t ready to sleep and i just started writing and this is what came of it. i know that christmas isn’t always exactly a happy time for everyone bc family and holidays can be complicated sometimes. so if ur struggling or experiencing anything negative or just not rly enjoying christmas. this ones for u friend and i’m sending love ur way

word count: 2085

_______________________________

You had mixed feelings about this time of year.

The holidays.

On one hand, it meant you had some free time to enjoy some quality time with your nearest and dearest. And on another hand, it meant that you would be potentially finding yourself in situations where you would be spending time with family members who you would maybe rather not spend time with.

When you were young, Christmas always felt so magical. Now you were older, Christmas felt more like an anxiety inducing chore.

You’d talked to Corpse about your family a many of times, because for the most part, you really did love your family so much. You felt lucky to have been born into the family you were - again, for the most part. There was one particular sibling who you wouldn’t include in those feelings. Unfortunately, toxic people existed and extra unfortunately, sometimes those people were related to you. After four months of being with Corpse, he thought he had come to learn all of who were apart of your family. But then you were reminiscing on a childhood memory and when sharing it with your boyfriend, he heard a name he hadn’t heard before. When he questioned you on it, he noticed the immediate change in you. The smile left your face and you went timid and very quickly, you shifted the conversation topic. You were acting in a way he had never seen you be like before, usually you were so open and talkative and here was a brother you had never mentioned and definitely didn’t want to talk about.

He didn’t push it any further that day, figuring you would tell him when you were ready. That time came in November, on the 25th.

You remembered it well, Corpse was going through his emails when he asked you, “Baby, what’s the date?”

“November twenty-fi-” You cut yourself off.

“What?”

You were silent for a moment, you didn’t realise that Christmas had snuck up this quickly. It was only a month away.

“Baby?”

“Sorry- um,” you glanced to him, giving him a meek smile before continuing,  “it’s November 25th.”

He noticed that shift in you again. “Are you okay?”

And on that day, you opened up to him. Told him about the terrible memories that haunted days that should have and could have been really happy days had it not been for a bullying, negative family member. How now, you seemed to dread Christmas because of this fact.

“Why don’t you just not go?” Corpse had questioned you, he said it as if it was the most clear outcome, but it wasn’t like for you. It was so much easier for him to say that then it was for you to do.

“I couldn’t do that to the rest of my family.”

“Why? You can see them on any other day?”

“It’s Christmas, I couldn’t not go.”

“It’s just the same as any other day if you think about it.” As much as he had cared and listened to you opening up to him, it was hard for him to understand you on this. You grew up in vastly different family dynamics.

“Not to my family, it’s important.”

The two of you continued to go back and forth for a little bit before you realised the stubbornness you both shared wasn’t going to allow you to take in the other’s perspective.

In fact, the two of you didn’t speak about it again until two days before Christmas Eve. You were spending the day together because you were planning on leaving that night to stay at your parents house until boxing day. And as your leaving time was drawing closer and closer, it was visibly clear to Corpse how anxious you were feeling about it.

-

“(Y/N),” he had called for you attention and you looked to him, “I really don’t want you to go.”

A soft smile was offered to him. “I’m going.”

“But I can fucking see how this is affecting you. You’re dreading it, please don’t go.”

You sighed before answering him. “I have to go.”

“No you don’t.”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“Please, Corpse, I don’t want to go over this again. I’m already feeling nervous about it.”

“Then stay with me for Christmas, you won’t have to feel nervous about anything, we can just be here having our own good time.”

You knew he was just trying to be there for you, but it seemed this was not something the two of you could find a common ground on. “It’s not that simple.”

-

But if only it had been that simple. If only you had listened to Corpse. Because you wouldn’t be where you were right now. Sitting in your car with tears running down your face. It was 5:05pm in the afternoon on Christmas Day and you’d made a dash out the front door while everyone else sat down to eat dinner. You had tried your best to stay strong, to ignore your toxic brother but when someone was constantly saying and doing things to try to bring you down, you’d broken. You wished you could pull it together, so you could go back inside for the people you wanted to be with, but you truly couldn’t take it any longer. You would call and apologise to your Mother tomorrow, you felt bad for leaving her the most.

You shouldn’t have been driving in the state you were in, tears kept blurring your vision and your mind was so distracted you knew you really weren’t paying enough attention. But by some miracle, you had made it to where you wanted to be. And in one piece and it wasn’t your own place. You were parked out the front of Corpse’s place and how you just longed to be in his arms right now.

Heavy feet carried you to his front door and before you could get the chance to knock, Corpse had already swung the door open.

“Thought I saw your car pull up- oh, fuck,” His tone was happy at first, surprised with happiness that you were there until he took notice of the state you were in. Your foundation was streaked by the thick and fast tears that had fallen down your cheeks. Your mascara and eyeliner tracked black lines, too. Your nose had the makeup removed from it and it was displaying red due to the amount of times you’d rubbed at it. And oddly enough, a Santa Hat was still sitting atop your head. Corpse had never seen a more gloomy Christmas Hat appearance. “Baby, c’mere.”

He wouldn’t hesitate to stretch out his arms to pull you in close and you so gladly accepted. When you were resting against him, his arms would be holding you so tight and yours clutching at his hoodie he was wearing, he’d kick his foot out to shut the front door once the two of you were inside. Small sobs were already leaving your body, but feeling the familiar and protective grip of Corpse really just made you break more. You were safe here, you were safe with him, you could get out any emotion you needed to, and so you did.

Sobs wracked your entire frame, it was loud, vocal and physical crying. Corpse had seen you cry before, but never like this. It was hurting him to see you so hurt. He was so concerned for you, he didn’t have to ask if you were okay, your display was making it clear you weren’t. When he could start to feel your feet starting to give out and your weight became heavier against him, and he not only heard but also felt you choking on your own cries and starting to really struggle to breathe, he felt the need to do more.

Gently, he’d bring you down to the floor with him. He’d sit with his back against the wall and grab your thighs to have you sit in his lap, your legs straddling him. He would pull you in tight enough so your chest and torso was completely against his, the two of you couldn’t be brought any closer if you tried.

“I need you to try taking some deep breaths for me.” He’d tell you right in your ear, needing you to hear him over your violent cries. And so you did, but each one was uneven and would catch in your throat and make you cough.

His hand would be rubbing big, deliberate, heavy circles into your back with a force to make its presence known, a tactic he hoped would calm you. He was caught off guard to see you like this, but after opening up to him about your toxic sibling and how anxious you had been to be around him again, he wasn’t exactly shocked. He was so concerned for you but a part of him was also furious that someone had treated you in such a terrible way to put you in this state. He now wished he had worked harder in getting you to stay with him, if you were with him, you were safe, he wouldn’t let harm - especially like this - come to you.

“I’m here.” Corpse would assure you with a longing kiss to the side of your head, rocking you back and forth.

And eventually, while sitting there, being cradled in his arms, your cries would quieten, your sobs wouldn’t make you shake so violently and your breathing would return to a more regular state.

“Feel better?” He’d ask you once you reached that more stable point and you’d nod your head from its place against his neck before doing a much needed yawn. “You’re tired?”

“Exhausted.” You’d confirm.

“Should we go lay down?” He was still holding you so strongly and securely but being so gentle with how he spoke to you.

“Yeah, I want to get some painkillers first, though, my head hurts.”

“Want to take off the Santa hat?”

“No.”

“What, why?” Your answer surprised him.

“I’ve had it on all day, I’ll have really bad hat hair.” You admitted and Corpse laughed and had you been in a better mood, you would have joined in on the laughter. But it did lift your spirits to even just simply hear him laugh.

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad.”

“It will be.”

Corpse laughed softly again and shook his head slightly and when he felt you relax against him again, he brought up his hand to quickly pull the hat from your head.

“Hey!” You lifted your head then and he was relieved to see no more build up of tears in your eyes anymore.

“You’ll feel better without it on.” He argued your protest, smiling a small smile and you couldn’t help but to mirror it, which made Corpse elated to see.

“Okay, but don’t you dare look at my hat hair.” You told him and because he knew your eyes were on his, he intentionally lifted his eyes to your hair. “Corpse!” You called his name with a laugh and he was so happy to hear you laugh instead of cry. “Stop it.” You spoke through more giggles and your hands came up to land on your head over your hair until Corpse grabbed your wrists and moved your hands out of the way. “Hey!” Squirming your arms to get your wrists out of his grasp. Once you freed them, you’d place your hands over his eyes.

“Baby, let me look at your beautiful hat hair.”

“No!” You both would laugh then and this time when your boyfriend took hold of your hands to move them off of his eyes, it would be soft and he’d lift them to bring back his vision and bring your hands down a little to place kisses into the palms on each of your hands.

“You know you don’t have to hide anything from me, right?” On the surface, it could’ve sounded like Corpse was talking about just the hat hair, but on a deeper level, he meant this so wholeheartedly, and you understood.

So you’d nod. “I know. Thank you.”

And Corpse knew that once again, when you were ready you’d tell him about what took place on that Christmas Day, but for right now, he didn’t need to know. All he needed to know is that now you were okay and you were safe and you were with him.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you, too.”

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

By Your Doorstep (Part 9)

Summary: The reader and Tessa spend their first Christmas with the Winchesters and their friends, resulting in an eventful night...

Pairing: Doctor/Neighbor!Dean x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 2,800ish

Warnings: language

A/N: Please enjoy this final part! I loved writing this one and exploring everything this series had to offer!

_________

Reader’s POV

Christmas Night

“Hello ladies,” said Dean, popping his head out from the hall and into the room Tessa was staying in. “Mind if I steal your sister?”

“Go for it,” she said, jumping up from bed and rushing over to her suitcase. She pulled out a box and held it out. “I thought I left it at home but Y/N found it in the hall. It’s your other present.”

“The zip up was very nice of you already,” he said. He tore off the paper and you smirked from bed, Dean making a face as he looked at the box.

“It’s a mug. I made it in art class,” she said. He opened the package and went wide eyed, staring at her as he pulled it out.

“Tessa, this is really good,” he said, smiling at the little D.W. she’d painted on the side. “You made this?”

“Yeah. I’m good at ceramics,” she said with a shrug. “If you don’t like it that’s okay.”

“I have a new favorite mug,” he said, giving her a hug. “I can drink out of it, right?”

“Yeah. It’s fine for using and dishwasher, all that,” she said.

“Well I for one am glad you are getting your minor in art next year,” he said.

“Really?”

“School’s important but you gotta have some fun,” he said. “This is one of the best presents I’ve ever gotten.”

“I made everybody one,” she said with a shrug. “I gotta give Sam his still.”

“I think he’s out with Eileen and a few other people in the hot tub.”

“I was gonna go hang out with Jack, maybe we’ll head out there,” she said. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Make smart choices,” he teased as she walked out. You stood up from bed and walked out to the hall, wrapping your arms around his waist. “She loves me.”

“Yes she does,” you said, a big smile on his face. “You like that, huh?”

“Yes, I do. Besides, I gotta get her on board if I want you,” he said. “How am I doing so far?”

“Oh so you’re curious if I love you,” you said.

“More than you could possibly understand,” he said. You smiled and stood up on your tip toes, throwing your arms around his shoulders.

“Dean. I love you.”

“Good because I love you,” he said.

“That’s very good,” you said. He gave you a kiss, resting his hands along your hips. 

“Wanna take a walk with me?” he asked. You nodded and let him take your hand, following him downstairs and into the foyer where you dressed in your coats and boats, hats and scarves. You walked out the front with him and down the driveway a ways until you were on the private road up there, twinkle lights adorned in the trees.

“This really is beautiful up here, Dean,” you said, your gloved hands laced together.

“It is. Never really thought this would ever be my life growing up,” he said.

“We had holidays like this when we were younger,” you said. “It’s not really about the presents or the lights at the end of the day though.”

“No, it’s definitely not,” he said. “I know we only got here yesterday but are you enjoying it so far?”

“More than. I don’t dread these things anymore. I don’t dread life anymore.”

“Can I ask what your plans are for once Tessa goes to school next year? I know she’ll be living at home but she’s gonna be out and about more often,” he said.

“I don’t really know,” you said. “What about you?”

“Sammy’s interested in the place two doors down across the street. He might put an offer in,” said Dean. 

“What ya asking Dean?”

“If you asked me six months ago if I ever thought I’d love someone, I’d have said no that wasn’t for me. But then I met you and things changed. I’ve never really asked if you’re a marriage kind of gal I guess.”

“If I loved him I would marry him. I’d have a family of our own with him too,” you said. Dean nodded and you bumped his shoulder. “Death is the price we pay for living. But I think what I’ve learned these past six months is that caring and loving someone is worth the pain at the end of the day. The pain subsides and it’s still there but it doesn’t destroy you anymore. So yeah, I’m definitely open to marriage and kids and the dog with the white picket fence thing.”

“My fence is brown,” he chuckled.

“I can look past that detail,” you said. “Would you ever consider marriage?”

“Yes. I absolutely would,” he said. You smiled and he squeezed your hand. “You think I’m gonna like...propose or something now?”

“I think I love you and anything else, whenever or if ever that may be, it would just be a cherry on top,” you said. “I don’t need a ring or to be Mrs. Winchester to tell me how I feel.”

“I figured as much. Safer to ask though,” he said. He reached into his pocket with his free hand and held out a small wrapped box to you. “Merry Christmas sweetheart.”

You dropped his hand so you could unwrap it, finding a black box inside. You took off the lid and smiled, looking back over to Dean.

“You like it?” he asked shyly, blush appearing on his cheeks. “Tessa helped me pick it out.”

“Dean are you proposing?” you asked. He cocked his head and you turned the empty ring back towards him, his face falling.

“Oh my God. Oh my God,” he said, covering his face. “I never put it back in the box. It’s at home. Oh my God I’m so dumb.”

“Dean,” you smiled, tilting your head and wrapping your arms around him. “Is there something you’d like to ask me?”

“It would make this idiot very happy if you decided to marry him,” he said with a smile.

“M’kay,” you said, pulling him down for a deep kiss. “That’s a yes by the way.”

“Even if I’m an idiot?”

“Told you I don’t need a ring, Winchester,” you said. “Just need you...Mr. & Mrs. Winchester has a nice ring to it though.”

“Technically it’s Dr. and…” he trialed off as you kissed him again. “God I love you.”

“I love you,” you said, throwing your arms over his shoulders. He tripped and fell back in the snow, laughing as you went with him. “Fuck I love the shit out of you.”

“I second that,” he said, rolling you to your back and kissing you. “Your sister is a hard nut to crack you know.”

“Did you ask her about this?”

“She’s very protective of big sis...but she said some very sweet things to me,” he said.

“She’s a sucker for you guys,” you said. “But she’s not the only one.”

You rolled over and meant to put him on his back but you ended up shifting and rolling down the hill with him, landing in a big pile of snow. You couldn’t see him at first but he was giggling like a kid and it was just about the best sound you’d ever heard in your life.

“I love you,” you said as you sat up. He propped himself up on his elbows and grinned. You jumped on top of him and rolled around in the snow, throwing snowballs and playing until both your jeans were soaked through and the cold was getting to be a bit much.

“Hey. You want to warm up with me in the shower?” he said. 

“Absolutely,” you said. You walked back up the hill with him, picking up the box from the road. He threw his arm over your shoulders and tugged you close into his side. “Maybe we can even have a little fun in that jacuzzi tub.”

“That’s my girl,” he chuckled.

“That’s my boy,” you said, taking off your hat and pulling it over his head. 

“I can get used to that.” He took off your hat and his baseball cap, putting the cap on you and tugging your hat back on.

“You’re never getting that blue Henley back by the way,” you said.

“You’re never getting your black hoodie back,” he said. You stopped and he pushed his hat down over your face. 

“Dork,” you said, pushing it up and wrapping an arm around his waist. You walked up the road, chilly when you walked back inside. You took off your coat and boots, tossing everything on the rack. 

You caught Sam and Tessa peeking their heads down the hall, both of them in their bathing suits. They stared at you and Dean, both dripping water.

“Yes we’re engaged,” you said.

“Yes!” said Tessa, Sam giving her a high five.

“Finally,” said Sam.

“Don’t you two have people to go make out with in the hot tub?” said Dean.

“Gah, like I’d do that in front of him,” said Tessa. 

“I was having a perfectly good time with Eileen until you and Jack-“

“Goodnight guys,” you said.

“They got engaged!” shouted Sam, different parts of the house shouting back. Dean pulled you up the staircase and down to your room, locking the door behind you. 

“Hi,” you grinned, kissing his nose.

“Hi. Wanna warm up?”

“After you, sweetheart.”

Three Months Later

“I’m beat,” said Dean, arm slung over your shoulders as the two of you walked up the street towards your house. You’d spent the day helping Sam and Eileen move into Sam’s new house just down the road, sticking around to unpack dishes and boxes long after everyone else had gone home.

“Our boy is all grown up,” you teased, Dean leaning against you. “Happy Sammy’s so close by?”

“Yup,” he said with a smile. “I think us older siblings did an alright job.”

“We still have to get Tessa through college,” you said.

“She’ll be fine. She wants to major in medicine sciences. I may or may not be able to help her out there some,” he said.

“Nerd,” you said, getting a smack on the ass from him. “Boy.”

“Girl,” he said, smirking and kissing your cheek. “It’s not the easiest thing in the world, I know, but she’s smart. We can all help her out. Except her art minor homework. I have no clue on that,” he said.

“First semester will probably be the roughest.”

“She’ll be okay,” he said. “What I am worried about it the fact she’s making us dinner tonight.”

“Ten bucks says it’s box mac and cheese.”

“Oh she informed me that it would be epic. I have high expectations,” he said.

“Hm, that must clearly be a good sign,” you said, nodding to your front porch where a very burnt tray of something sat on the step.

“Is it too late for takeout?” he chuckled.

“Let’s hope not,” you said, climbing up the steps. “We’re home!”

“How’d it go? We saw the...wait...it smells shockingly good in here,” said Dean, taking off his coat.

“I’m a better chef than you two give me credit for,” she said from the kitchen, humming as she worked over the stove. “I burnt the biscuits but everything else is nearly done.”

“If it tastes as good as it smells we should have you cook for us more often,” you said. 

“Laugh it up,” she said. Dean pulled you upstairs and you washed off the sweat of working all day, changing into something relaxing in time to walk downstairs and spot Tessa setting plates down at the table. 

“Oh. Fancy,” you said, Dean pulling out your seat for you. You sat and he took his own, Tessa humming as she pulled out a bottle of wine from the fridge and sat it down on the table. “Alright. What are you up to? This is way too nice.”

“Nothing. I knew you guys would be tired and you guys always make me dinner and stuff,” she said.

“Mhm,” you hummed, Dean smirking up at her. She rolled her eyes and sighed.

“This what I get for being nice. I’m going over Jack’s,” she said.

“Make smart choices kiddo,” said Dean with a wink. She groaned and messed up his hair before she took off, Toast trotting after. “Take my car if you want, Tess.”

“Thank you!” she called back, ducking out the door after a moment.

“Well this was very nice of her,” you said. You cut into your chicken and paused, showing it to Dean and giggling.

“Maybe tomorrow we’ll show her how to use a meat thermometer, make sure the food is actually cooked,” he chuckled, picking up the plates and scraping the food in the trash.

“It’s the thought that counts,” you said, picking up the bottle of wine.

“Yes it is. What are you thinking?” he asked. “Taco Saturday?”

“I want a big ass burrito,” you said. “With extra cheese. And nachos.”

“That’s my girl,” he said, washing up his hands at the sink. “Wine and Mexican food. Perfect combo if I do say so myself.”

Three Months Later

“You got me a car!” said Tessa, hopping up and down when she opened the front door. She ran over to it and pulled off the bow, sliding in behind the wheel.

“You were worried she wouldn’t like a used one,” chuckled Dean in your ear.

“I was not,” you said, slapping his chest, Toast running out past you. You watched Sam and Eileen come out of their house a few down, Sam staring over in your direction. “We’ll meet you there!”

He waved and they climbed in, driving past with a honk as Tessa squealed. 

“Alright, alright,” said Dean. “We got a graduation to get to, ladies.”

“Cheers,” said Dean, laying back on the lounger on the balcony, toasting his glass to yours. You stretched out and rolled over closer to him, kissing him gently. “You’ve officially survived the high school phase.”

“Why do I feel like the college phase is harder,” you laughed.

“She’s already got the college boyfriend down,” he said.

“Yeah but Jack is Jack. He’s sweet. She’s the one I worry about.”

“You’ll always worry,” he said, his arm hanging loosely over your shoulders. “Kids sound like they’re having fun down there.”

“She’s happy. It’s all I could ever ask for.”

“Are you happy?” he asked.

“I’m home,” you said, resting your head on his shoulder. You hugged his waist, Dean shutting his eyes with a smile. “You want to get married next summer?”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he said. 

“Come on. You gotta have some opinions on this,” you said.

“I kinda like the idea of a spring wedding. Maybe May or something. I wouldn’t mind honeymooning somewhere on a beach,” he said.

“That sounds great,” you said, his fingers dancing along your arm. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Shoot.”

“I almost asked my dad if I could meet you once you know. The boy from the mail room. You seemed...I don’t know, like a really good person.”

“Did I meet expectations?” he asked.

“Blew right past them,” you said, getting a kiss on the temple. “You happy?”

“I got my girl. I got my brother. Got Tessa and Eileen and my friends and Toast and this little baby, Miracle,” he said, picking up the sleeping puppy beside him. “I have never been so happy in my life.”

“Good,” you said, kissing his cheek. “Want to go see if there’s any graduation cake left? Bet it’d go good with this bourbon.”

“God I love you,” he chuckled as he kissed you. “So fucking much.”

“Me too, Dean. Me too.”

_________

[bonjour-rainycity]

Late in the Night | Part One

Prompt: Unrequited love/the love is requited, they’re just oblivious (Content Challenge Day 5)

Pairing: One-sided ( or is it ;) ) Female Reader x Legolas

Rating: G

Word count: 1847

Warnings: None

Challenge participants: @game-ofthe-company @grunid @themerriweathermage @errruvande @the-reformed-ringwraith @awkwardkindatries

A/n Hello hello, and happy Day 5 of my content challenge! As always, you can find the challenge’s masterlist here and my personal masterlist here. 

I’m making these last three days into a mini-series, so here’s part one! Also, for this story, I’m going with the “girl wakes up in Middle Earth” plot, but LOTR doesn’t exist in her world. So she doesn’t know anything about the characters or their journey. She just kind of fell through a portal between worlds. Y’know?

Translations (I think): Taur-e-Ndaedelos — Mirkwood // Eryn Galen — Greenwood

Reader’s POV

“And Miss Y/n, what will you do once this is all over? Will you go back home?” Pippin stops to let me catch up, bringing me into step with him and Merry.

I purse my lips, not wanting to give too much away. The others know that I have a bit of an, erm—strange— situation, but they don’t know that I haven’t got a home in Arda. We’ve had at least ten variants of this conversation already, and each time, I’ve managed to avoid participating. It seems my hobbit friend, though, is done letting that slide.

I shrug, trying to seem nonchalant. “I haven’t really thought about that much…” Just in case there’s no ‘once this is all over’. “But I guess I would find a human town somewhere and build a life. I’ve learned quite a lot on this journey, so maybe I could make a living as a guard or even a seamstress, seeing how often I mend your clothes,” at this, I throw a teasing look at Gimli, who blushes. Out of all of us, he’s the most prone to non-battle related injury, and I often find him trudging back to camp with a rip in his sleeve after simple tasks like collecting firewood or refilling his canteen.

Pippin ignores my joke, and now I realize that I have the concern-laden eyes of all four hobbits. “You…would not go back home? You wouldn’t see your family?”

I sigh, avoiding Gandalf’s gaze. He said I was free to tell my companions that I am not of this world, but I haven’t yet worked up the nerve. The stress of figuring out how I got here, why I’m here…it’s too much to burden them with on this perilous quest. I stifle a little laugh, my exhausted mind finding humor in the situation. Maybe that’s what I’ll do ‘once all this is over’. I’ll tell them that I’m practically an alien.  

Lost in my thoughts as I was, my silence drew the attention of Gimli and Boromir, and now I have six sets of concerned eyes regarding me. Great. I try to speed the conversation along so we can get to someone else. “Well, I haven’t seen my family in quite a long time…I think they think I’m dead, actually, and for all I know, they could be too…” This thought troubles me greatly, and I hurry to replace it with something else, forcing my voice to sound cheery and hopeful.“But that only means that I’m free to go anywhere—explore any place I like.”

Pippin looks quite heartbroken at my words, and I scramble to think of ways to fix it. But before I can, he grips my hand tightly in his, and I feel Merry mirror his actions on my other side. They look up at me triumphantly, smiling brightly. “You can come live with us, in The Shire,” Pippin declares, to which Sam nods earnestly. Frodo, as always of late, seems distracted, but offers me a distant smile.

A laugh of shocked joy escapes my lips, and I look between my valiant hobbit friends with possibly even more affection than before. “Do they even allow that? Big Folks moving into The Shire?”

“Sure they do,” Merry brushes away my concerns, appearing quite assured of himself.

But Pippin only shrugs, seemingly having not a care in the world. “And if they don’t, we’ll just sneak you in.”

“Gondor would be happy to host you as well,” Boromir adds, surprising me a little. We haven’t talked much on this journey, so it’s nice to know that he sees me as enough of a friend to invite me to his home.

Feeling much better, I squeeze Merry and Pippin’s hands. “Thanks, you guys. Really.”

{***}

We stop when it gets too dark for most of us to see.

“We are too far from Rivendell’s borders for me to feel comfortable.” Aragorn shakes his head slowly as he considers our surroundings and the potential risk we face. “I would ask that we keep a double watch tonight, and for many nights to come. Y/n, Legolas?”

Legolas—the only one of us who seems to have an endless supply of energy—jogs to a tall rock a couple hundred meters from camp, and begins to climb. I’m a bit slower to follow.

In the past three weeks, Aragorn has put me on watch eight times, the most only after himself and Legolas, and definitely more than our other companions. Sam shoots me an apologetic look and quietly promises to bring us dinner as soon as it’s ready.

I grab my cloak and follow Legolas’ path, trying to keep my annoyance to a minimum. After all, it’s not the worst thing in the world…staying up most of the night with Legolas, just the two of us.

He hears me coming and turns around with a welcoming smile, lowering a hand to help pull me onto the boulder. His hand is so warm in mine, so solid, and I find myself wishing he wouldn’t let go.

But of course he does, taking his hand from mine the moment I’m settled next to him. I tuck my hands into my cloak, trying not to lament the loss. Regardless of my quickly-growing feelings towards my elven friend, he has never given me an indication that he sees me as anything more than that, a friend, and I need to respect that.

He fixes me with a raised eyebrow, somehow both looking at me and the landscape over my shoulder. “Are you alright with staying awake tonight? It has been a while since you slept fully.”

I freeze, caught in a sudden burst of happiness. He noticed that? Has he been paying attention to me?

Legolas continues, and the fledgling hope that perhaps my affections for him aren’t as one-sided as I thought comes crashing down. “I could speak to Aragorn. It is no issue for me to stand watch alone.”

I briefly close my eyes, berating myself for my stupidity. He’s not commenting on your well-being, he just doesn’t want to have to be alone with you for the next five hours. He must somehow know of your feelings and wants to discourage them — because really, why would an elf want to be with a human?

I purse my lips, desperately not wanting him to know I’m upset. “No, it’s okay, thank you though. I’ll do my part.” My words come out a bit more cooly than I intended, but that’s just as well. Best to seem unattached.

He nods, giving me a funny look, then turns to look back out on the vast expanse of trees.

Nearly an hour passes in silence, then Sam visits, bringing dinner with him. Aragorn had managed to find two rabbits, so we eat well tonight. I savor it, knowing we might not be so lucky tomorrow, or the day after next. As usual, Legolas chooses to eat standing, not willing to sacrifice his careful watch over our surroundings. Knowing he’s got it covered, I sit down on the rock with Sam, having a make-shift picnic. Still, I keep my daggers close and periodically take note of the sounds of the forest, just in case. Sam entertains us with stories from his childhood and of life in The Shire. At a tale of how he and Frodo found themselves running from a furious farmer in the middle of the night, even Legolas cracks a smile.

But eventually, the food is gone and Sam is stifling yawns, so he bids us goodnight, leaving me alone with Legolas once again.

I stand, brushing the dust off my leggings, and take my place next to him.

His eyes never leave the horizon, but I hear his voice, soft, quiet, and almost hesitant-sounding. “Is it true that you haven’t a home to return to?”

I’m a bit caught off guard. During that conversation earlier in the day, Legolas was all the way at the front the group, leading with Aragorn. I didn’t know he’d heard that. “Uh, yeah.” I nod, trying to project a confidence I don’t really feel. “It is.”

He goes silent, and stays silent for such a long time that I think that’s all the conversation we’ll have. But then, he speaks again, his voice steady and deliberate. “My home, Taur-e-Ndaedelos, is not safe right now.”

“Oh.” I blink. Is he opening up to me? I try to respond delicately, not wanting to accidentally discourage him from sharing his feelings in the future. “I am sorry. That must be very difficult.”

He waves off my apology, meeting my eyes for the quickest of moments and then turning once more to the landscape before us. “My people get by. I only meant that, perhaps…well, if we succeed, and the Great Evil is defeated, Taur-e-Ndaedelos will be safe, and might even be called Eryn Galen once more.” He shifts from one foot to the other, something I’ve never seen him do. “You would be welcome there.”

A smile—the widest one I’ve managed in a while—spreads over my face, and try as I might, I am unable to reel it in. Because even after all this is over, when the time would come naturally for us to part ways, he wants me still in his life. I’ve always figured that it would hurt me to be parted from him, but I never dreamed that he would feel the same way.

Legolas seems to grow agitated by my silence, and turns to look at me with a measure of stress in his brow. But once he sees my reaction to his words, the lines in his face soften into a grin of his own. “Gimli is similarly without a permanent dwelling. I have extended an invitation to him as well.”

Oh.

Of course.

I fight the urge to roll my eyes at myself, feeling incredibly stupid. Of course I would read into his words. He didn’t mean anything significant by them, he was just offering me a place to stay, like he obviously would to any of his friends. Because he is a kind, good, and noble ellon.

Of course he doesn’t feel the same way as I do.

I was silly to hope.

I try to keep the smile plastered to my face and not let him see my crushing disappointment. That would be horribly embarrassing, and I’m not sure I could take the pity that would surely be on his compassionate face if he had to verbally express his disinterest.

“That—” my voice sounds annoyingly weak, and I clear my throat to correct it. “That’s really kind of you, Legolas. Thank you.”

There’s a question in his eyes, but he doesn’t ask it, only nods once and returns to his watch of the forest.

For my part, I try to turn all of my focus to the task at hand, reminding myself that, even if he never loves me back, I am truly lucky to have such a wonderful friend.

A/n See you all tomorrow with part two! Likes, comments, and reblogs make my day! Also, let me know if you would like a tag.

Masterlist

Next part

[ch3rry3lossom]

♡ A Merry Christmas ♡

✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽

✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽

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

♡ Characters - Tendou satori, Tsukishima, and Kenma

♡ Warnings - None! Unless you are triggered by these characters

♡ Summary - Haikyuu boys and what they would like to do on Christmas eve ^_^ [Contains fluff]

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

-- Tendou Satori ♡

Will definitely wake you up early in the morning by jumping on you all energetic

Will bring you hot chocolate/cocoa and wish you a merry Christmas with a kiss

Tendou is up for any thing as long as it's okay with you

If you want to stay in and watch some movies then he will prepare snacks and pick a Christmas movie for y'all to watch

Will cuddle with you for warmth and just because he wants to be around you at this time

Very affectionate and won't stop telling you how grateful he is to spend Christmas with you <3

If you want to go out for the day then he will take you anywhere you want to eat. He will also insist on going to a main event where there will be lights everywhere at night and Christmas characters dancing

Will hold your hand for the rest of the day and give you kisses every now and then

Once the main event starts he will take you to a spot where there isn't that many people but also not too secluded either and asks if you would like to dance with him

You Laugh. Happiness filling you to the brim as you collide your cold hands with Tendous long ones. Your heart flutters as you stare into his eyes and at the many lights around you.

"Thank you for today Tendou" you smile at him as you get on your tippy toes to give him a kiss on his nose.

"Anything for you Y/N" He says smiling as he brings you close to him and gives you a passionate loving kiss on your cold lips

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

-- Kenma Kozume ♡

Will give you a forehead kiss while wishing you a merry Christmas

Already had bought Christmas themed candy and blankets

Kenma isn't one to like spending the whole day out and about so he would insist on either going to a gaming cafe or staying in and playing video games

Very big on asking you if y'all could check if there are any Christmas events going on in the games y'all play

Not very big on physical touch but will cuddle with you and give you small pecks every now and then

If you agree to stay in home and play games with him, he will quickly guide you to the living room and start opening Minecraft

Will download a Christmas themed gameplay or texture pack

Would also really like baking something with you, either some Christmas themed cookies or a gingerbread house

Would spray whip cream on your nose as a joke before licking it off swiftly

He's not big on physical touch like I said but if he sees you smiling and laughing, having fun he will hug you and bury his face onto your neck - this is kenma showing you how much he truly is grateful to have you in his own way :)

"Kenma look! The sky looks so pretty!" You say pointing to the screen and staring at it in astonishment.

"Idiot, it's only a texture pack" He says while looking at you

"Yeah but still! Plus I'm here with you and I think that's what makes it look even prettier" You say with a cheeky smile

He smiles and goes closer to you, hugging you from behind and resting his head on your shoulder. "Thank you Y/N. I love you" he says as he hugs you tighter and buries his head on your neck

How did he deserve such a kind and patient person like you? He couldn't have asked for a better s/o

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

-- Tsukishima Kei ♡

Will nudge you until you're awake and say "Merry Christmas you dork"

Will jokingly ask for you to make him breakfast before bringing both you and him a hot Chocolate/cocoa and some chocolate

I can't see Tsukishima wanting to go out for the whole day but will accept going to a friends party or staying at home and listening to music

If you agree to listen to music and stay at home then he will pull up his Christmas playlist - I feel like in all honesty he would make a playlist for both of y'all for this specific day

Tsukishima isn't big on physical touch either but will cuddle with you and give you cheek kisses while playing with your hair

if you fall asleep on him he will groan in annoyance before looking at your sleeping peaceful face and smile at you - he might even give you a kiss on your forehead if you're lucky hehe

If he's cold he will nuzzle closer to you - if you bring it up he will tell you to shut up or he's moving

If you agree to go to a friends party then he will wear a basic hoodie and scarf and go with you

"I don't want to leave just yet!" You say pouting as you stare at your boyfriend tsukishima

"Well I do. We already spent enough time here, I'm getting tired" He says as he looks at you in annoyance

"Hmm well could we at least stay outside here and look at the stars for a bit please?" You say hoping he says yes

He sights "fine but only for a bit"

"Yay! You're the best Tsukki!" You say as you give him a quick peck before sitting down on the cold grass covered with snow

"Yeah yeah" he says as he sits next to you

A few minutes go by and Tsukki feels a Weight on his shoulder

He looks to his side and sees you fast asleep. "Idiot, you were tired as well" he says shifting a bit before looking at your face once more.

He sights "I love you" he says smiling softly before resting his head on top of yours and falling asleep with you

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

I hope y'all liked these little head canons or stories!

^ ^ Please let me know if you would like me to write about other characters and what they would like to do for Christmas Eve!

[littleredroseonthevalley]

Stabbing Incident [Pt. 3]

Summary: Beckett takes proper care of Donna and her injury.

Rating: T - Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with some violence, minor coarse language, and minor suggestive adult themes.

Words: 1129

Notes: So, last chapter. Back into my cave I go.

Beckett pinned Donna and finally manages to peer into what she so adamantly hid for days.

Under her shirt, right where he had expected it, there was a flesh wound. It was a few inches deep in the soft skin of her stomach and, by the looks of it, it was badly inflamed. There was no bandage, but it smelled of plaster and magic, and it was raised and red around the edges.

Obviously, she has not been taking proper care of her wound, and she has not been using the correct magical treatments. All the time she had been hiding this from him had taken its toll, and recovery would be that much more difficult.

While it would have healed up nicely and quickly had they dealt with it sooner, with the help of someone who has knowledge and experience with healing spells, it was now irritated, explaining why she had been having such a hard time. It also looked very painful, only confusing him more.

Why would Donna have kept this from him in the first place? He could not think of a single good reason.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, more than a little miffed with the turn of events.

The underlying question was left unsaid. Don’t you trust me?

Beckett backs her up until her thighs hit the stone wall on the back of the hallway, all but forcing her to rest against it while focusing all his attention on this newfound offense. It is not as if he is just going to let her keep on her merry way now that he had found out what truly happened. Someone had to do something about it, and they had to do it now.

“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.” She insisted. “It still isn’t. It’s fine, Beckett, and I’m fine.”

The college girl is well aware that, by this point, he was only half listening to what she is saying. All of his focus was now on her abdomen. Which, really, is not her favourite thing at the moment.

“I was taking care of it. I checked some spells from the library and I got the plasters from Shreya’s cabinet.” Donna insisted. “It looks ugly, but it’s getting better on its own. There’s no need for you to be upset about it.”

The brunet scoffs bitterly. “I decide what’s worth getting upset about for myself, thank you.”

Donna sighed, watching the male’s brown eyes shift as he glanced up at her, barely convinced of anything right now. She knows that he is going to hold on to this for a while, given the circumstances.

She could have gotten some kind of infection that landed her in the hospital aisle, or even gotten her killed at the hands of Raife and his followers. Naturally, it all freaked him out. Of all the people in the world that he cared about, something happening to his girlfriend would affect him the most, and, in all honesty, it hurt him that she would not come to him immediately following something like this.

Donna definitely should have.

“This is certainly not getting better, Donna. It’s infected.” He paused and glanced warily at her face. “Now I’m going to take care of it. Properly, this time.”

Beckett decided what sort of treatment he would apply in his head, not really giving her much of a choice in the matter. Well, it is not that she would have really minded. Obviously, what she was doing is not working. Maybe he would have better luck at actually getting it to heal.

“Yeah, okay.” Donna finally conceded, giving up the fight as the man she loved placed her shirt back over the wound and helped her to her feet.

This definitely is not something that he would usually be interested in keeping from their friends, especially her sister, and the professors, but if she wanted it kept between the two of them, he is not about to argue. It has been hard enough getting to this point, and he better get to work while she is still somewhat pliant.

She might not have been able to take care of this by herself, but he could definitely help her. She is an incredible student, capable of grasping magic he cannot even fathom, and the love of his life but he has been raised in this world and definitely had more experience than her.

Beckett has an advantage over her in this field, and there is no reason not to use every resource available to him now. Donna needed him and he was always going to be there for her.

*_*_*_*_*

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Donna states randomly, looking down at the boy who was currently busy cleaning up the mess she had managed to make of herself. 

Thankfully, the cut is not as deep as it looked, so she did not need stitches, but she definitely is not having a good time anyhow. 

The alcohol Beckett used to clean it had nearly knocked her off her feet and even now that it was all bandaged up, she could still feel the dull burning around the edges of the wound. It hurt, but she knew that the pain would soon fade and, in some ways, she was thankful for it.

Atlas had always told her, in that lovingly venomous manner of hers, that pain was a blessing, a reminder that they were alive and, more importantly, that they were still alive to feel it. It helped to look at it that way, twisted as it may be.

At the very least, it made her feel better about it. 

He shrugged, well aware that whether or not she feels bad about it is not going to make any difference now. “I know, it’s alright. I wouldn’t want to worry you either, if it was me. At least it was on training, and not on a real situation.”

She had a problem and she did what she thought was best for everyone at the time. Just because it turned out to be the wrong choice did not mean that she had to spend forever prostrating and apologizing. All that was left to do now was fix her up and make sure that this did not ever happen again.

Never. Ever.

As much as Beckett liked to take care of his girlfriend and feel useful around the Pend Pals, he does not mean he wants to have to figure out she was hurt and patch her up every time he turned around. She needed to be around to take care of him just like this next time, after all, as he needed her too. 

That was what they did for each other.

*_*_*_*_*

Stabbing Incident Masterlist

TE Masterlist

[michaelmilligan]

Day 22 of B&B's (@drgarth and @starrynightdeancas) Holiday Advent Calendar Event! (Aka you know the drill, it's Midam...)

Christmas Parade//Santa Hats//"Make The Yule-tide Gay"

Michael couldn't believe he was wearing a stupid Santa hat.

Well, he had adjusted his projection so that it would be there, so he supposed that he could believe it. That still didn't mean he was happy about it.

But Adam had insisted. And it was hard to resist when Adam's eyes became so wide and pleading as he asked for something. (Michael had tried reproducing that look in the mirror while in the driver's seat of their body, but on him it just looked weird.) Adam also had a tendency to wrap his soul around Michael's grace, essentially hugging him, when he wanted something. Michael wasn't completely sure if that was instinctual or a conscious decision on Adam's part, but it was hard to stay resolute when Adam's soul radiated both sadness and fondness right against Michael's grace.

And contrary to common belief, Michael wasn't a monster. (No, not even metaphorically.)

(Keep reading under the cut)

So now they were attending something called a 'Christmas parade' while wearing the silly Santa hats. It was moments like this that Michael wondered what his life had come to. Of course, he knew that he was far happier with Adam than he had been as the ruler of Heaven. And he'd had a lot of time to get used to many of the... peculiarities of the human. But that had been in illusions in the cage, not on Earth where they were surrounded by actual people, and could theoretically be spotted by an angel or demon at any moment.

He wasn't sure which one would be worse: Confronting a demon while wearing this thing, or enduring the ridicule of one of his siblings. (At least he could smite the demon.)

“What are you thinking?” Adam took his hand, turning away from the parade for a moment to look at him.

Michael hesitated. “Not much.”

“Oh please. You always think too much, don't tell me this parade has made you zen.”

“I'm not zen. I just don't have many thoughts on...” Michael gestured to a parade truck with the twenty-seventh version of Santa Claus so far. Not that he'd been counting. “... this.”

“So you hate it.” Adam sighed, but leaned into him. “You can just say so, you know.”

“It's fine. Not like it's the worst thing I've ever seen.”

“Wow, you really hate it.” Adam shook his head, huffing out a laugh. “We can leave if you want.”

“But you like this.”

“Yeah, but I like you more.”

“Well, I like you more than I dislike this. Just...” Michael shifted on his feet. “Can I take off the silly hat?”

This time, Adam full out laughed, and he dropped his head on Michael's shoulder, wrapping an arm wrapped around his waist. “Yeah babe, you can take off the hat. I just thought it would be fun for both of us to wear them, but if you're not having fun, take it off.” He pressed a kiss to Michael's jaw.

Relieved, Michael took off the hat and stuffed it in the coat pocket of his projection. It wasn't like he could just make it vanish with all the people around, even if none of them was paying particular attention to them.

“Sorry for making you suffer through the silly hat and the silly parade,” Adam said, more amused than sorrowful.

Michael smiled at him.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas

One of the parade trucks had apparently decided that blaring Christmas music at 100 decibel was the right thing to do. Michael was instantly worried about Adam's eardrums.

Let yourself be light

“I think you got that covered,” Adam shouted over the music, grinning and putting a hand on his own chest, just to the right of his heart. It was something he did often, and not always consciously, Michael thought. That was where most of Michael was located in his body, and while Adam should be able to feel him at all times, he seemed to like the reminder, the power thrumming under his hand.

The song had continued, and Adam's grin only widened at his favourite line:

Make the Yuletide gay

“That, we've definitely got covered,” he said, squeezing Michael's hand.

“You're not even gay.”

Adam was attracted to all sorts of genders. 'Pansexual', he called it.

“But you are?” Adam asked in amusement.

Michael didn't even have a gender, at least not that he knew of. So being attracted to the 'same' gender was a somewhat difficult concept. Of course, his siblings mostly addressed Michael as their brother and people tended to use 'he' pronouns for him, not that he minded. But that didn't exactly make him male.

“You said that it was an umbrella term,” Michael said, and smiled when Adam's expression turned soft.

“It is,” Adam assured him. “Or at least it can be.”

It didn't really matter, Michael thought as Adam turned back to the parade, radiating contentedness. Michael wasn't attracted to anyone but Adam anyway and had no great need to label himself. In the privacy of his own mind, he had toyed with the term 'My Adam'-sexual (at first it had been Adam-sexual, but that could have meant any person named Adam, which just wouldn't do). But really, it wasn't of much consequence.

What was important was that Adam was smiling, and holding his hand. And that he still wanted to be with him the next day, and the day after that.

Maybe even forever.

[surrealsunday]

A Christmas Mood Tattoo snippet…

Notes: Merry Christmas to anyone celebrating! Enjoy this little snippet from our Mood Tattoo babies. It takes place just a few months after they’ve moved in together, but before they go away to Japan and get engaged.

There should be a part 2 of this coming that I intend on being longer – that will be NYE themed. This was just a little intro to get me into the writing zone again. I hope you enjoy!

* * * *

“Eli, it’s freezing.”

Eliott turns back to look at Lucas. From how his boyfriend is bundled up, scarf wrapped around his head in a way that allows only his eyes to be visible above it, one would think Eliott had dragged him out in the middle of a Russian winter. The temperatures have dipped below zero, but it’s hardly as cold as Lucas would lead someone to believe. Eliott’s just thankful the scarf is blocking the pout he knows lies beneath it. It’s impossible to resist Lucas when he pouts. As it is, he’s doing a pretty impressive job of conveying that pout with wide-eyed, watery eyes. But Eliott is determined enough to resist him… for now.

“Baby,” he begins, delighted by the way Lucas immediately huffs, “it’s not that much further. But if you want to turn back now, we can.” He knows exactly what he’s doing, and maybe it’s a little unfair. He knows Lucas won’t ask to turn back when Eliott is excited to go, but offering the option still feels like the right thing to do.

Lucas doesn’t answer. Making a small sound beneath his scarf – definitely a harumph – he grabs Eliott’s gloved hand in his own and continues walking. “Tell me about this thing again. ‘Cause if we wanted to watch a movie, we could have done it at home, under a blanket, with hot chocolate and blowjobs.”

Eliott chokes on a laugh. “God, I love your idea of a night in.” Lucas glances over at him, a smile clear in the crinkles beside his eyes. “And it’s not a movie. It’s a sound and light installation,” Eliott continues. “Remember that patient a week or so back who had the meniscectomy? She told me about this. She knows someone involved with the set up. Laura.”

Lucas nods. “The one who wanted to bone you.”

Eliott snorts immediately. “She did not want to bone me.”

“She definitely wanted to bone you.”

Eliott sighs, too charmed to be annoyed by Lucas’s stubborn belief that everyone Eliott meets wants to sleep with him. It’s hard to be mad about it when it really just comes down to Lucas’s belief that anyone who doesn’t want to sleep with Eliott must be a moron. “She was at least ten years older than me.”

“Yeah. And she wanted to get herself a piece of that.”

Eliott laughs, unable to help himself from stopping and reaching for Lucas, pulling him closer by his coat. “Get herself a piece of that?” He teases. “A piece of me? What piece exactly?”

Lucas rolls his eyes. His scarf has slipped down slightly to reveal the tip of his nose and his cheeks, both rosy pink from the cold. Eliott moves his hands up to cup his face, brushing thumbs against the flush of his cheeks.

“Don’t know why she’d want to,” Lucas grumps. A piece of his hair falls down, catching in his eyelashes and Eliott moves a hand up to brush it back, tangling his fingers in the strands. “Pain in my ass, you are,” Lucas continues with a huff, “dragging me around in the cold when we have to be up to work a full shift tomorrow and it’s Christmas, so you know it’s gonna be extra hellish and –” Eliott cuts him off with a kiss, pressing their cold lips together in what was meant to be a soft and gentle peck, but turns deeper almost immediately. He couldn’t even say whether it’s him or Lucas who does it, but it’s suddenly soft and slow, open-mouthed in a way that has a buzz vibrating just beneath Eliott’s skin. He pulls back only when he feels Lucas’s tongue licking at his lips. Lucas’s eyes are wide and dazed, his lips pleasantly puffy. But it’s only a split-second before they narrow in suspicion. “Did you do that to shut me up?”

Eliott laughs. “No.” It’s the truth. Any moment spent not kissing Lucas feels like a moment too long. And a grumpy Lucas, skin flush from the cold? There’s absolutely no way Eliott could be expected to resist such a formidable test of his will power. “And you get all my pieces. For the record.”

Lucas’s nose scrunches. He means it to be a look of disapproval – an objection to Eliott’s choice of words. He only manages to look even more adorable. “You make me sound like a serial killer – collecting body parts or some shit.”

Eliott snorts a laugh. “Remember when you said that before?” Lucas quirks an eyebrow in question. There’s a ninety-nine percent chance he remembers too and just wants to hear Eliott recall the moment. Eliott’s more than happy to oblige. “In the hospital. Both of us covered in puke. You pretending you didn’t want me as badly as you did.” Lucas rolls his eyes. It only makes Eliott smile wider. “You said our idea of a good time was cutting people open. That we sound like serial killers on a good day.”

“I said psychopaths.”

Eliott tries not to let his smile become too smug but it’s a losing battle. “You do remember.”

“You followed it up by nearly braining me on the tile of the showers. Hard to forget.”

Eliott sighs wistfully, flashbacks to wet and naked Lucas more than welcome. “Yeah.”

It makes Lucas laugh as he turns away again, pulling Eliott along by the hand. “Ok, so, this is a fancy movie. Still a movie.”

Eliott sighs, his breath puffing before him in the cold night air. Lucas’s shameless efforts to play dumb when it comes to all things art shouldn’t be as charming as they are. “A sound and light installation is totally different,” Eliott begins, throwing just the right amount of pompous indignation into his tone. “It combines totally different disciplines, art and engineering, and it’s more than watching a film. It’s multi-sensory and interactive, and –”

“God,” Lucas interrupts with a laugh, looking over at Eliott with such affection in his eyes, it still – even after so many months of being together – catches Eliott off guard. “You really were meant to be some pretentious art student, hunh? Just got turned around in the halls one day and ended up in medicine.”

Eliott grins, releasing Lucas’s hand to wrap an arm around his neck instead, hauling him closer. “Got me you.”

Lucas makes an amused sound. “Bad enough dealing with surgeon you. Not sure I could handle even more insufferable artist Eliott.”

“You would have thought I was hot.”

“I already think you’re hot.”

Eliott tries not to preen too obviously at that. “Hotter.”

“Not possible.”

Eliott glances sideways at Lucas, suddenly wondering how loudly his boyfriend might object to Eliott dragging him into the nearest shadowed corner to do unspeakable things to him. Normally it wouldn’t be something he’d need to question. In this cold however, Lucas is likely to give him a bit more lip. “Baby –”

“Holy shit,” Lucas’s awe filled voice cuts him off and Eliott turns his head to look in the direction of his gaze.

They’ve rounded the corner and the installation has come into view. Streaks of different coloured lights stretch into the night sky, moving in slow tandem. There are sounds – single notes – that play each time one of the light beams moves. Together the notes have formed a haunting sort of melody. The source of the light beams is several projectors, housed in larger, futuristic looking black boxes that showcase external digital, interactive screens. There are a number of other people milling about, pressing various buttons on the screens. “You didn’t say it would be this!” Lucas moves out from under Eliott’s arm, hurrying towards the installation.

“I said sound and light installation,” Eliott laughs as he follows. “That’s what you’re looking at.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t say it would be this cool.” Lucas stops at a lightbox, staring at the screen and then up into where the blue light stretches into the sky..

“Pretty sure I did,” Eliott mumbles, coming to stand beside him.

“What does it do?” Lucas asks, turning to look at Eliott rather than read the instructions and artist statement to the side of the lightbox.

Eliott smiles. This is the part he’d been most excited to tell Lucas about. “Remember how I said it was interactive?” Lucas nods. “So, these numbers,” Eliott points to where you have the option of typing numbers into set lines on the screen, “control the lights. The numbers you put in match coordinates in the night sky. The numbers can be random, but they’ll find something up there – a star, a constellation, a planet… something. But not our sky. Or not exactly.”

Lucas looks away from the sky towards Eliott, his nose wrinkling in confusion. “What do you mean not our sky?”

“See. It’s moving,” Eliott points out as they both take a step back to watch as the beam of blue light slowly tracks across the sky, sounding a singular note to join the others. “It’s not us doing it.”

Lucas stares at it in wonder as it comes to a stop. “Who then?”

“There are matching installations in other major cities across Europe – Rome, Berlin, Antwerp, and other places, I think. They control our light beams. We control theirs.”

Lucas looks to the screen in front of him on the light box. “So, the numbers I put in… they’ll change the direction of the light somewhere else?”

Eliott nods, answering out loud when Lucas’s eyes don’t move from the screen. “Exactly. Someone else will be watching the spot in the sky you chose.”

Lucas turns to look at him. The blue of his eyes catches the reflected glow of the light beam, making them appear even more ethereal than they do normally. Eliott’s breath catches in his throat. “But why?”

“I’m not sure,” Eliott admits, tearing his gaze away to look towards the various beams of light moving together. “Maybe to remind us we’re all connected – we’re all looking up at the same night sky? That the choices we make affect others?”

“Wow,” Lucas whispers, turning to watch as other lights track across the sky. “It’s beautiful.”

Eliott turns to stare at his profile. “It reminds me of that thing you say… about parallel universes.”

Lucas glances back to him surprised. “It does?”

Eliott nods. “Like there could be another Eliott and Lucas in Rome, watching the lights tonight just like us.”

Lucas laughs lightly. “But this is our reality. The lights exist in different cities in our universe.”

Eliott knows that’s true. He’s not sure how to explain what he means exactly. “Yeah, but –”

“Eliott,” Lucas cuts him off, stepping into his space and reaching for the lapels of Eliott’s jacket. “I know what you mean.”

“Yeah?” Eliott breathes, leaning down to press their cold foreheads together.

“Mmhmm,” Lucas hums, his eyes slipping closed as he presses into the contact. “Lots of parallel universe Eliott and Lucas’s freezing their asses off to move light beams for one another.”

Eliott snorts with a laugh, pushing back to see Lucas looking up at him with a smug smile. “Brat.” He turns them both back towards the screen, moving a hand up to thread through the back of Lucas’s hair and tug gently. “What numbers should we put in? Birthday?”

“Nah,” Lucas denies, leaning forward to brush his fingers against the screen, “that’s boring.”

“Random then?”

Lucas nods. “Yeah, or like… I could put in a date. Like… the day we met?” He doesn’t look at Eliott, staring down at the screen in what becomes apparent is an effort to seem nonchalant.

Eliott smiles. “That’s awfully romantic.”

Lucas glances at him quickly. The flush in his cheeks is just a little deeper now. “Shut up.”

“Let’s do it,” Eliott agrees, rubbing a hand against Lucas’s back to prompt him to enter the numbers. “You remember the date?” Lucas doesn’t answer, leaning forward instead to input the numbers. Eliott watches him, his smile growing. “And you say I’m a romantic cornball…”

“You are a romantic cornball.” Lucas finishes, pressing the submit button, and stepping back. He allows Eliott to move behind him, wrapping him up snuggly in his arms. Eliott leans forward to press the cold of their cheeks together. “It’s a bit weird thinking someone somewhere else is watching it move for our numbers,” Lucas comments, looking up at their blue light, still and crisp in the night sky.  

“Yeah,” Eliott agrees. “There,” he raises a hand to unnecessarily point at the light beam moving, “they’re moving it back. It’s like they’re talking to us.” He brings his hand back to brush against Lucas’s arm. His tattoo is buried beneath layers and layers of fabric, but Eliott can picture it there. “It’s like magic.”

Lucas turns his head to nuzzle the tip of his nose against Eliott’s cheek. “Thanks for bringing me.”

Eliott squeezes him even closer. “C’mon, that’s not all. Let’s warm up.”

“We’re going somewhere else?” Lucas asks, looking sweetly disappointed.

Eliott shakes his head, turning to lead Lucas to a nearby bench. He drops the backpack he’s been carrying to the surface and motions for Lucas to have a seat. “I brought us hot chocolate,” he admits, smiling again when Lucas does, “and Bailey’s.”

“Now we’re talking,” Lucas laughs, happily taking the empty cup handed to him.

“We can warm up and watch the lights for a little bit longer.” Eliott sits next to him on the bench and goes about filling up both their cups from the thermos he packed, topping the cups with a little Bailey’s as Lucas hums in approval. He hands his own cup to Lucas while he pulls out the small throw he’d packed as well. It won’t provide much extra warmth, but it was all he could fit in the backpack. He spreads it across Lucas’s lap, leaving just enough material for himself, and he tucks them closely together under it, reaching one arm to wrap around Lucas’s shoulders, and reaching for his cup with the other.

They both sit for a moment, sipping happily on their drinks and watching the light beams glide through the sky.

“I brought something too,” Lucas says into the gentle silence between them.

“You did?” Eliott looks to him in surprise.

“Mmhmm,” Lucas nods, not looking away from the lights. “You said I wasn’t getting in the Christmas spirit.”

“Yeah,” Eliott agrees. “And you said it was hard to get in the spirit when we would be celebrating Christmas with cramped hands from doing sutures all day in the ER for – and I quote – morons who can’t even manage to stop being morons on Christmas.”

Lucas grins, looking at Eliott now. “And I’m right but…” He shrugs, suddenly looking a little bashful and sweet. “I haven’t really wanted to get into it since my mom was around. It’s different this year.”

Eliott swears he can feel his heart physically swell in his chest. “Yeah?”

Lucas nods, glancing away and back to the lights. “And you love all this shit, so…” He motions a hand towards the backpack.

Eliott grins, reaching for it and rooting through the pockets until he finds an opaque plastic bag in one of the front pockets. The smell of gingerbread wafts from it the moment he pulls it from the pack. “You made gingerbread?” He might sound a little like a child on the cusp of teendom whose crush just said hi in the school hallway… but truly, no one could blame him. Lucas made him Christmas cookies. Lucas, who has been working shifts just as exhausting and back-breaking as Eliott, had taken the time to make gingerbread cookies because he knew Eliott would love them.

“Sof helped,” Lucas admits with a shrug.

Eliott stares at his profile, smiling so wide his cheeks ache with it, until Lucas – with a huff, of course – turns back to look at him. “You made me cookies.”

“Well, you deserve them.”

“Lucas,” Eliott begins prying the bag open, “that is so sweet, so thoughtful, I –” He cuts himself off as he stares down at the cookies looking up at him from the bag. “Lucas…”

“Yes?” Lucas’s eyes have widened with false innocence. He could not look more like the bratty bane of Eliott’s existence… love of his fucking life…

“You made dirty gingerbread cookies…”

“Excuse me,” Lucas sniffs. “They were wrapped up carefully. They’re quite clean.”

Eliott looks up, one eyebrow raised in disbelief. “You actually took the time to make gingerbread cookies…” Eliott glances around them for any nosey listeners before adding, “fuck.”

“Language,” Lucas gasps, so obviously enjoying himself. His eyes are lit up with mischief. “Those are Christmas gingerbread cookies. They’re innocent. You should know better.”

Eliott lifts one cookie that appears to be one gingerbread man taking another from behind. “Oh yeah. Definitely scream innocent.”

Lucas grins. “I liked that one.”

“Can’t believe Sof helped you make these.” Eliott can’t even picture it but the very thought makes him want to laugh and just not stop.

“He helped make ‘em. Idriss helped me find the cookie cutters online.”

Eliott gapes. “You bought sexual cookie cutters?”

“‘Course,” Lucas nods with faux authority. “Now we can get use out of them for years to come. It can be our tradition.”

Eliott stares at him. Count on Lucas to make something so ridiculous, so goddamn sweet, all at the same time. “You’re something else.”

“Thank you,” Lucas sniffs, reaching for a cookie of his own. He chooses the one very clearly depicting one gingerbread giving the other a blowjob. Gingerbread cookies are never going to be the same. “You like them though, right?” Lucas doesn’t sound insecure. Not really. But there’s a caution in his voice which is likely more a reflection of how much he knows the holiday means to Eliott – and his own desire to be part of that in his own, bratty, ridiculous way.

“Yes.” Eliott twists slightly sideways and doesn’t resist the urge to pull Lucas into a kiss. He pulls back with a gentle smile, moving his free hand to brush back the strands of hair fallen down over Lucas’s forehead. “I love my dirty gingerbread men.”

Lucas smiles. “Good.” He places his cup next to him on the bench and turns to wrap his arms around Eliott’s waist in a sideways hug, tucking closer into his embrace as he presses his head beneath Eliott’s chin. He reaches forward to tap his own cookie against the one held in Eliott’s hand. “This your way of saying what you want later?”

Eliott snorts, motioning towards Lucas’s own choice. “Was that yours?”  

Lucas shrugs, letting out a happy sigh as he snuggles into Eliott’s hold. “Guess we can have both.”

“How generous,” Eliott laughs.

“I am. Quite,” Lucas sniffs, sounding hilariously pompous.

Eliott takes a bite of his cookie, humming happily as he chews, leaning back to watch the lights for a moment, warm and more content than he can ever remember being. “I love you, Lucas,” he says, eyes tracking the colourful beams of light in the night sky. “There’s no one else like you.”

“Not so average?” Lucas asks after a moment.

Eliott laughs lightly. “No. Definitely nothing average about you.”

“Well,” Lucas sighs, his arms tightening around Eliott, “I think you’re pretty ok too.”

“Pretty ok?” Eliott snickers. “A high compliment.”

“Mmm. Only the best for you.”

Eliott leans down to press a kiss to the top of Lucas’s head. “We’re going to have lots of traditions together. This can be one.”

“Freezing our asses off with dirty cookies and hot chocolate while we watch a light show?”  

“Yeah,” Eliott agrees, near bursting with happiness. “Exactly that.”

“Ok,” Lucas agrees, more easily than Eliott expected. “Eliott?” Lucas adds after a moment of silence.

“Mmhmm?”

“I wouldn’t make gingerbread cookies fucking for anyone else.”

Eliott laughs, pressing his mouth down into Lucas’s hair. “I know.”

“I love you.”

Eliott breathes in the words, closing his eyes as he presses his nose down into Lucas’s hair and soaks up the way ginger and chocolate and other spices have somehow mixed with that uniquely Lucas smell. Eliott didn’t know he could love the way someone smelled quite this much. Lucas. His Lucas.  

“I think you’re pretty ok too.”

* * * *

* * * *

End notes: 

- I’ll post this to ao3 once I have the second part up

- The whole light installation was inspired by one I saw when I lived in Montreal. It wasn’t exactly like that but quite similar and I hope the way I described it sounded cool because it really was! 

❤❤❤❤

[ziaxkawaii]

Delinquent affection (Delinquent!Bakugou X Reader)

Pairing: Delinquent!Bakugou Katsuki X Reader

Length: 4,400 words.

Warnings: Swearing and possibly uncomfortable themes.

Summary: Your parents made it clear for you to stay out of trouble at school. You tried your best, but as a teenager, there's always trouble you can easily get caught in whether you liked it or not.

~It's said, that High school years will be the best years of your life...

~Perhaps for some, but to you right now it feels like endless suffering in some twisted mafia.

~You could precisely recall your father's words before he dropped you off to school on your first day. Before you could open the car door, he spoke:

~"Remember what we talked about. Don't get involved in any shady business and try to focus on school. I don't want my daughter to be a member of some street gang." You assured him that you had no interest of doing such things as you stepped out of the vehicle.

~"AND IF YOU'LL BE TALKING TO ANY BOYS!! YOU BETTER NOT-" You slammed the car door shut and went on your merry way.

~At the time you thought he was being overprotective and you still do to some degree, but now you can admit that you could have been at least a bit more careful or observant when it came to talking to certain people.

~Two months into your first year, you met most of the other first years and also became very good friends with some of them. You studied hard but you too had time for your friends. You would sometimes goof off but still kept it on the legal side (hopefully). You felt lucky as if nothing could ruin your happiness.

~That's what you thought before you encountered the person responsible for your current anxiety.

~Keiji Hatcher and his underlings....

~You heard from one of your friends that he was a second-year student who was no good news and that you should stay away from him. Or that was the rumor among the upperclassmen.

~You took their advice, but you ran into Keiji by the vending machine no one usually uses behind the school.

~At first he seemed just like any high schoolboy. But that image quickly turned into something else, when you kept on bumping into him. He teased you a lot and at one point it made you feel a bit uncomfortable, but you didn't exactly push him away.

~Day after day, his approaches got more touchy and pushy. You didn't return them as his only intention was to have you as his little pet, and you would never stoop that low. By now, you realized you didn't want to have anything to do with him, and you even told him to stop meeting you and that you've had enough.

~Keiji did not listen and instead brought his minions with him every time he talked to you. "Sweetheart, I thought it would have been nice to have some audience."

~No one knew about what Keiji was doing, and there really was no point in telling anyone, none of the teachers would believe you. Keiji was the son of one of the most respected teachers in the school, and he was a damn good actor when it came to covering up something, spreading lies, or explaining situations.

~You couldn't talk to your friends because they would probably think you were gross for hanging around with an older guy who treats his girlfriends as trash.

~And talking to your parents was out of the questions for obvious reasons. Leaving you nowhere to hide or seek comfort.

~That's how you've been living. Always on edge and checking every corridor before you walk out behind the corner, trying your best to stay out of his sight. Sometimes even that wasn't enough.

~This time he went too far...

~You were cowering next to the same vending machine you and Keiji met, crying and hiding away from the other students who still haven't left the school building, even when it was well past 5.30 PM on Friday. You hugged your topless torso tighter in hopes of either hiding yourself more or to just disappear from all existence.

~The only comfort you had at this moment was the lack of people and that Keiji was "generous" enough to only take your coat and shirt, leaving you in your bra while the bottom half of your uniform was still on. Thankfully.

~You attempted to dry your tears with one of your hands while the other arm covered your chest. You felt so humiliated, frightened, and exposed.

~"Why would he go this far?" You questioned while the tears kept on coming. You gave up on trying to dry your tears and started to rock yourself back and forth in hopes of helping yourself to calm down.

~"Why would someone do this?" You cried. You had no idea how to get back home. Your house was many miles away from the school, so you usually traveled by train or car. Your parents were on some business trip and they couldn't get you and you didn't feel confident to go on the train without a shirt. All of your friends already left school.

~With this realization, you felt trapped and out of options of what to do.

~"What am I going to do?..."

~"Oi! Why the fuck are you here?" You heard someone shout. You tensed up and hugged yourself even tighter out of fear. Footsteps probably belonging to the voice came closer until they stopped before you. You didn't dare to say anything nor to look up at the stranger.

~"Hey! I asked you a god damn question!" He shouted again and you started trembling profusely. What if he wanted to touch you too?!

~The blond male observed your hunched over being. He didn't notice it before, but now he could see that the girl in front of him didn't have any shirt and was clearly terrified of his presence. And if he looked close enough, he could even see a few hickeys on your neck.

~Bakugou stood up straighter and with a bit softer voice and expression, he spoke again. "Who did this to you?"

~You cautiously lifted up your head to look at the person speaking. Piercing red eyes looked into your own behind spiky but fluffy looking hair. The person had his hands in his pockets and a scowl on their face, but his eyes gave away that he was somewhat interested in what happened to you.

~You sniffled. "I-I can't tell you, or h- he might do something to get me b-back..." You whimpered as you lowered your gaze again.

~"So the bastard's him, huh." The male muttered mostly to himself but you heard him clearly.

~"Y-Y-You know him!?" You looked up to him again shocked.

~"I know that the guy is an asshole, but this is a new record for him." He said. "Don't get the wrong idea, I don't associate with that fucker even the slightest. We delinquents do our own thing."

~'Delinquents?...' You repeated in your head as you looked him over again.

~The blond male wore the school uniform, but he had styled it differently. His jacket was unbuttoned and instead of the usual white t-shirt underneath the jacket, he wore an orange t-shirt with a skull and explosions on it, without a tie. His ear was pierced and not only did he have a book bag, but he also had a second 'bag' strapped to his back that was more of a holder or a shield for a baseball bat or other sports equipment.

~Seemingly, he uses it to hold his weapon that the delinquents tend to carry with them at all times, judging by the shinai handle that was poking out of the top of the bag for easy access.

~He definitely is one of the school delinquents you've heard about, you couldn't deny. You thought you'd never meet them in person. Now the question is, what does he want with you? Why was he even talking to you in the first place?

~"W-Why are you here?..." You asked, not realizing that your tears had stopped flowing.

~"That's none of your business. Aren't supposed to be at home already? Calling your parents to come and get you?" To you, he sounded rude and impatient, but in reality, Bakugou was attempting to sound softer.

~He may be a delinquent, but he wasn't completely heartless.

~"I don't have anyone to call. I-I guess you could say that I'm trying to figure out how I'm gonna get home unnoticed." You admitted. You're already topless and embarrassed in front of a male stranger, mind as well throw a little more firewood to a house fire, right? It won't change anything.

~The blond male stood there silently while you were still crouched down. Now you realized that you oddly felt a bit better for some reason. You weren't shaking as much as before and your crying had stopped.

~Was it because you finally talked to someone about your problem and the stranger didn't make fun of your current state? You heard that the delinquents don't really care much about anything.

~Suddenly you heard the male shift a bit on his feet and it sounded as though he was shrugging something off, then you felt something being carelessly draped over your head and back. You jumped a bit from the surprise and looked up at the boy, now standing there without a jacket.

~He... He's letting you borrow his jacket?

~"Cover yourself up and go home." He growled out and began to use the vending machine next to you. You couldn't say anything. You just looked up at him in disbelief and he noticed your staring.

~"Are you deaf or something!? You don't need to stare like a creep." He shouted and it snapped you out of your daze. You quickly put the jacket on properly and buttoned all the buttons all the way. You picked up your book bag and you were ready to run off in the direction of the train station, but you stopped yourself before you could.

~The blond shifted his head to the side, questioning why you were still here. You had so much to say to him and questions to ask, but the only thing you could muster out was:

~"Thanks..." Before you ran off.

~~~

~The weekend went by in a flash. You did your best to study on an upcoming test, but here and there your mind shifted to the grumpy delinquent boy that lend his jacket for you to cover up. When those thoughts filled your mind, you often found yourself staring at the jacket that sat on your dresser.

~Thinking how generous it was of him to help you when you didn't even know each other. You didn't even know his name nor what year student he was.

~As Monday rolled around, you walked to school with the jacket in your book back for you to give back. If you can find him that is...

~Your day went on as usual. Attending classes, talking with friends on breaks, and then came lunchtime. For many, it was the best moment of the day, but you never looked forward to it no matter how hungry you were.

~Just as you got out of the classroom, an arm snaked around your waist pulling you along with them to the opposite direction of the cafeteria while whispering right next to your ear.

~"Did you have a nice weekend sweetheart?" Keiji teased with his sickly sweet tone. You shuddered in his hold and you tried to lean away from his face but his grip on your waist wasn't easing up.

~"I hate you..." You spit out and he only chuckled as he led you behind the school.

~"Ah ah ah~. Remember to watch that tongue, doll." He pulled you behind a corner and slammed you against the wall. His other friends emerged from behind the dumpster and were now surrounding you as you looked at Keiji's almost glowing eyes.

~"Now... where were we...?"

~That's how it went every time.

~After all of them left, you were left alone to fix up your wrinkled uniform and messy hair. While doing so, you looked at the time on your phone and sighed out of relief. Lunchtime wasn't over yet and won't be in a long time. Keiji stopped earlier than usual.

~"I guess he just wanted to only mess with me today..." You thought out loud as you fixed the tie around your neck and straightening the shirt collar to hide the new and old hickeys from other students.

~"OI!!" A familiar gruff voice called from behind you. You turned around and your eyes met fierce ruby eyes of a delinquent. Your momentary panic vanished as you realized that he was the guy who helped you last Friday.

~He wasn't wearing his uniform jacket which made you remember that you had it with you right now. You immediately started fumbling and digging through your book back for the item the blond male was probably waiting for. You pulled the gray jacket out, ready to give it back but he spoke and you jumped.

~"Why are you letting him do shit like this to you?" He asked and you looked at the ground ashamed and unsure while you unconsciously gripped the jacket tighter in your grasp. Should you tell him? Or maybe the better question was, Why should you tell him?

~He is a delinquent. They don't bother with the other students unless they benefit from it. What does he gain from helping you or asking you these questions? Wait... Why are you just now realizing that he probably witnessed or at least heard the whole thing happen a few minutes ago?

~"....."

~He was waiting for your response, but when you couldn't decide what you should say he spoke for you.

~"If you're not going to talk then that already by itself tells a lot." The blond stepped closer and you stayed put, clutching the jacket to your chest now.

~"If I had to guess... I bet he has something of yours that you can not give up for whatever reason or he knows an embarrassing secret about you, with that he uses you as he pleases because he knows you can't say no. If you did, he would break the 'pledge' or spill the secret." He was now standing directly in front of you while a bead of sweat began to form on your forehead.

~You looked away from him and down at the ground in shame and sadness. He saw right through you.

~"H- He has pictures of me..." You squeaked while still looking at the ground. You couldn't possibly look him in the face right now. "The day I finally decided that I've had enough, he practically ripped off some of my clothing with his gang and took embarrassing pictures of me. I saw them once and they look like straight out of a lewd magazine." Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you recalled the event.

~When you started high school, you didn't think it would turn out the way it did, and you didn't know exactly who to blame. Keiji or yourself.

~"If I don't do as he says. He will put those pictures into use and once he does, I'm completely done for." You finished. a Few tears now rolled down your cheek as you kept on thinking about the worst possible scenario that could happen if Keiji did what he said he would.

~It could/would ruin your reputation in school and it would only worsen if your parents heard about it. More and more scenarios went through your head and you finally snapped out of it as a napkin was thrown in your face. You flinched from the sudden attack and swiftly snatched the napkin before it fell to the dirty ground.

~You looked up and saw that the red-eyed blond was the one responsible for the gesture as he looked to the side. He clearly didn't know how to comfort someone sad.

~"Stop crying like a loser." He commanded and the look of slight embarrassment on his face looked almost cute to you. You smiled and wiped your tears into the napkin. "Crying doesn't suit you." You would've blushed at the comment, but your face was already red with tears so it wouldn't have made a difference. When you were done you realized you were still clutching his jacket.

~"Oh right, I almost forgot." You scrambled for the garment. "Thank you again for lending me your jacket, you practically saved me last Friday. Don't worry about it being dirty, I washed and ironed it." You outstretched the jacket and he took it from you by grabbing it from the collar and inspecting it for a moment before swinging it over his shoulder.

~With that out of the way, you repositioned your book bag on your shoulder and bowed to him as a last thank you. You turned around and walked around the corner to the nearest bench to eat your home packed lunch.

~Little did you know that as you ate, someone familiar was watching over you from a distance like a guard dog.

~~~

~Something felt odd...

~Forget that, something was off and it put you on the edge.

~It has been a whole week since you last saw Keiji or his minions. He hasn't dragged you to the boys' bathroom, the janitor's closet, or behind the school to have his version of 'fun'. You haven't even seen the guy in the halls nor anywhere in the school for that matter.

~You didn't mind that he wasn't around, quite the opposite, you were cheerful that he isn't here to breathe down your neck. But the whole issue was the reason why he wasn't here. The longest he has left you alone was two days, now it has been a whole week and you were now more nervous than ever.

~Was he planning something? Did he somehow find out that you talked to someone about your problem? But the last time you talked to the delinquent was more than two weeks ago! How could've he found out? Is he now going to get you back by sharing the photos!?

~The familiar feeling of anxiety crept upon you as you couldn't concentrate on the lesson that was currently being taught. The class was dismissed later than you would have liked and your other classmates headed out to grab lunch.

~You were wary as you stepped out of the classroom, looking both ways of the hall before leaving the classroom towards the cafeteria to eat with your friends. As you walked for a minute, there wasn't the usual pull on your wrist or waist you were used to on Mondays during lunch.

~It made you really wonder what was going on with Keiji, as you feared for your reputation, expecting the worst.

~"Didn't you hear? Hatcher is temporarily suspended." You heard a second-year female student speak from another table behind you. The name Hatcher caught your attention, so you pretended to eat your bento as you listened to the conversation.

~"No I didn't, I thought he was sick." a Boy spoke this time.

~"No he isn't. From what I heard, he and his friends were suspended for harassing a first-year student. Apparently it was so bad that Hatcher's friends got a two-week suspension but Hatcher himself got a two-month suspension! Can you believe that!" The girl laughed and the other students chuckled along.

~"Serves him right. He has been getting away with his disgusting actions for long enough. It's almost hard to believe that someone actually managed to rat him out. Guess Keiji felt overly confident." Another girl spits out.

~Your eyes were wide as saucers, as you comprehended the information you just heard. 'He's suspended?' You thought. You couldn't believe it, it was too good to be true.

~"Do you know who exposed him?" The boy asked and you focused your attention again.

~"Not a clue. Apparently someone gave the teachers a package with a note and a USB drive. On it was evidence of the assault and since Hatcher's and his friend's faces were clearly in the video, they were found guilty." The girl explained with a laugh.

~"How do you know this sort of stuff!!?" Someone in their table exclaimed and the girl just chuckled mischievously.

~"I have my ways~." She sang. The second-years kept on bickering while you sat there stunned.

~Someone gave the teachers the evidence in a package? Meaning even the teachers don't know who the 'rumor-monger' was. Who would go out of their way to keep their identity a secret? Who even knew about the assault anyways?

~Then it hit you like a brick and you hurriedly packed your stuff with little explanation to your friends as to why you were leaving. You blindly ran through the school halls, courtyard, and on the rooftop of the school looking for the boy. With no success.

~Then you remembered that he was a delinquent and that they don't hang around in the places where the other students would. You hit yourself on the forehead with a giant L and bolted down the stairs, beginning to run to the back of the school where you always saw him.

~Soon you were out of breath and you leaned against the vending machine that no one usually used. You cursed your low stamina and prepared to run off again when a figure emerged out of nowhere.

~"Oi! What are you doing here?"

~'Of course it's always him who finds me.' You humored in your mind as you straitened up and turned to the blond boy. He had his usual annoyed look on his face with his hair pointing in every which direction and his hands were buried in his pockets.

~His tone of voice sounded pretty normal, but you swore you could identify a tone that told you he was half expecting you to show up sooner or later. You walked over to him and he eyed you wearily with his ruby eyes.

~"It was you... I know It was you!" You told him and he stayed put. "You exposed Keiji of his wrongdoings and got him suspended." You exclaimed in shock that he actually managed to do it but also in gratefulness that he went out of his way to do so. The blond smirked for the first time in front of you as he huffed.

~"He was a disgusting extra who thought he had everyone wrapped around his fingers. Not only did that bastard harass girls, but he also often got me and my friends in trouble. So when I heard about what he was doing to you, I recorded evidence of him right in the act for a couple of days and gave it to the teachers to handle the rest. Simple and easy." He explained as he shifted his weight on one foot and lifted his hand in the air to further showcase how simple his stunt was.

~"So you're telling me you did it because you wanted him off your back and not mine?" You inquired half-joking and half-serious, not even caring about the fact that he had been recording you. He looked to the side blushing a faint pink.

~"He was a complete asshole, I would have done it even if he didn't bother us, so I could watch him suffer for his actions. You happened to be just the perfect reason to use as an example." You blushed at his words and smiled slightly. Then you realized something and your smile fell.

~"But he still probably has the photos! H- He still could get his revenge and-"

~"I already took care of it." He stopped your panicking by placing a hand on your head, making you stand still. "Me and my pals confronted him and made him spill what devices he stored the photos in he took of his victims. We stole his phone and also his friends' phones and broke them. He was too confident that no one would find out that he didn't save them anywhere else. a Moron move if you ask me." He further explained and you calmed down under his surprisingly gentle touch.

~"So... I'm finally free?" You questioned to confirm just in case.

~"That's right, whatever he tries, you don't need to do shit." He smirked and lifted his hand off and buried it back into his pocket. Your smile returned and you couldn't hold the laughter in as you giggled from happiness.

~Finally it's over. Now you don't need to do gross things with him and you can now wake up without worry every day.

~"I owe you so much!" You said while laughing and he 'tch'ed.

~"What can someone like you offer to a delinquent who can get anything from other students just by intimidating them?" He challenged. You dug into your bag and pulled out an unopened bento box.

~"For starters, I can offer you this extra bento I made." You offered it to him and he lifted his brows as he took it. "I was supposed to give it to my friend but she wasn't at school today, so you can have it, plus I doubt you have your own lunch." You dug out your own and walked to the old-ish bench next to the vending machine and sat on it, he eyed the green container once more before following your lead and sitting on the opposite end of the bench to begin eating.

~You were right. He, in fact, didn't have lunch to eat today.

~You sat there in a newfound peace as the birds in a nearby tree happily chirped. You smiled. For the first time in a while, you felt at ease and able to breathe. Feel as free as the bird in that tree or in the sky.

~It was funny. You were eating lunch next to a delinquent who has a reputation as an intimidating and violent person, but you felt safe. In reality, the delinquents are people too and they only attack if someone approached them first.

~'He is interesting for sure.' You thought as you scooped more rice in your mouth.

~"What's your name?" He suddenly spoke and you looked at him. Oh right, you don't even know each other's names.

~"My name is (L/N) (Y/N), and you are?"

~"Bakugou Katsuki."

[let-it-raines]

What a Lie We’re In (3/3)

Summary: All Emma was doing was trying to be nice. Her roommate didn’t have anywhere to go, so she invited him home for the holidays. She thought it would be fine and Killian would be a good buffer for a week at home with her parents. That is until her ex-boyfriend showed up, and while she was freaking out, Killian told him they were dating.

That would have been fine except her parents overheard it.

Rating: Mature

a/n: I had such a fun time writing this trope-filled, ridiculous story, and you all have made it better with your excitement over it! I was not expecting that at all, and it’s been a fun ride! I hope you enjoy this last chapter! 🎄❤️

Ao3: beginning | current

Tumblr: One | Two | Three

-/-

Oh my God.

Like, oh my freaking God.

Emma groans. Or at least she thinks she does. She can’t hear much of anything over the pounding of her heart and the hissing steam coming out of her ears like an angry animated character.

Seriously, Mom. Seriously. What the hell?

“No,” Emma manages to say, pulling back from Killian. She snatches her hands away from his chest and moves her lips from his mouth, but the bastard still has his hand planted on her ass, keeping her pressed against him on the kitchen table.

Oh shit. She was just about to sleep with Killian on the kitchen table where she did her homework growing up, where she has breakfast with her family.

She was just about to sleep with Killian.

What the hell is wrong with her? Did she take medication she’s not aware of because this is...this is definitely not her.

(Or it is, but she doesn’t want to admit it.)

“Yes,” Killian mutters seconds after her. “Yes, you were.”

She gapes at him and then slaps his chest, and he glances away from her mom to look at her, eyebrows raised and slightly swollen lips smirking at him. It makes her realize her face is sensitive from the scratch of his beard, and she reaches up to touch her mouth.

What is she doing? What has she done?

Emma shakes her head. “What are you doing down here? You and Dad went to bed.”

“Um,” her mom hums, switching her feet, “I was going to get some water, but I don’t need it now. I’ll go back to bed and see you two in the morning. Happy Christmas Eve, Emma. Killian. Goodnight.”

“Happy Christmas Eve, ma’am,” Killian says back. Emma doesn’t think she can speak anymore, especially when Killian’s hand is still on her ass.

Emma was buzzing earlier tonight. That is long gone.

She watches as her mom walks away, the old stairs giving away her movements, and even when all the noise begins to disappear, Emma finds her feet planted in the same place they were. That has to stop.

“Oh my God,” she whispers, pulling back from Killian enough that they’re separated. “Oh my God. What the hell?”

Emma starts pacing, her hands tugging on her hair, and she really, really wants to scream at the top of her lungs right now despite knowing that would be a bad idea. The last thing she needs is her dad waking up and coming downstairs to find her in the state she’s in. The state Killian’s in too. His pants are ridiculously tight, and they don’t hide much.

Holy crap, she did that.

“Emma, love,” Killian begins, and she does a horrible job at ignoring how destroyed his voice sounds, “that was – ”

Emma spins around to look at him. “A one-time thing,” she finishes. “We can’t do that again. We’re tipsy, we’re not thinking straight. We just need…what we need is to get ready for bed and sleep it off. Tomorrow is Christmas, and then we’ll be going home early the next day. They’ll be no more of this idiotic putting on a show for my parents, and we’ll get back to thinking like rational people. Agreed?”

He looks down before looking at her. “Aye, agreed.” Killian stands from the table and brushes past her. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to take a cold and bracing shower. Feel free to finish making your hot cocoa.”

He walks out of the room, and Emma is left in the kitchen staring at everything spread out across the counter and the now-cooled milk sitting in the pan on the stove. Her body is still on edge, desire a permanent fixture deep in her belly, but she refuses to think about any of that. She had her little moment of fun, and now it’s gone. She’s back to just trying to survive this time at home before she gets to go back to Boston and try to survive her time there as well.

What an awesome recurring theme for her life.

Emma puts away all the hot chocolate ingredients, pouring the milk down the drain and rinsing off the pan before she turns off all the lights downstairs and walks upstairs. Killian is in the bathroom, so she strips out of her dress in her room and quickly changes into some pajamas she bought today on their way to the play. That dress was freezing last night, and she needed something that covered a lot more of her skin since she still hasn’t managed to get around to washing her clothes.

She’s so glad she did that now.

She makes do with makeup remover wipes, hoping her skin forgives her for one night of not washing her face, and she does the same with her toothpaste, rubbing it on her teeth with her finger. She could wait until Killian gets out of the shower, but since she knows exactly what he’s doing in there, she’d rather just deal with the cards she’s been dealt and go to bed. That way she doesn’t have to see him or talk to him for the rest of the night. It’ll be better that way. There will be fewer opportunities for her to mess everything up.

Emma turns her ceiling fan off, hating the way it creaks when it spins, and gets under the covers, pulling them up and basking in how warm her bed is. She needs to invest in one of these mattress heaters back in Boston because damn, this is great.

She’s comfortable, tired, still a little tipsy despite her mom’s interruption sobering her, and on any other night, she’d easily be able to fall asleep. Tonight, her mind has decided to run a marathon in record-setting time.

Seriously. What’s wrong with her? Why would she do this? Why is she always making dumb decisions like this? It’s got to be a medical condition at this point, and whatever pills she needs to go on to make it stop, Emma is willing to sign up.

Why would she kiss Killian?

He was the one who started it, sure. She was going to make them hot chocolate even if it was her third mug of the day, and they were probably just going to chill on the couch and find a movie to watch like they’d been doing most of the day. Then Killian came up to her and pressed up against her. He was so warm and smelled fantastic, and when he ran his nose against her ear, Emma could have melted.

She doesn’t melt over guys. Nope. She is not that type of girl. She is not freaking Frosty the Snowman.

It’s a physical attraction. That must be it. She knows he’s hot, she knows he thinks she’s hot, and it’s not something they’ve necessarily denied all this time. There are always jokes and little looks and a hell of a lot of teasing moments, but it’s never been anything deeper than that.

More importantly, they’ve never acted on any of it.

Tonight was just a blip on the radar, the one-time thing like she said, and when they get home, everything will be normal. This week and all of its weirdness will be forgotten. If not, she’s going to have to go sleep on Ruby and Dorothy’s couch.

The bedroom door slides open, a sliver of light from the hallway coming in with Killian, and Emma closes her eyes. She tries not to move, to fall asleep, but she’s aware of every one of Killian’s steps as he closes the door behind him and gets into the bed. He shifts a little, but other than that, he stays far enough away that she can barely feel the heat of his body.

Good. He can stay far away, and Emma can get a peaceful night’s sleep.

-/-

Emma doesn’t get a peaceful night’s sleep.

Not even close.

She never really drifts off. Instead, it’s this constant almost. She almost falls asleep all night long, but instead of blacking out into darkness, she lives in this state of dark gray. So close but so far away from what she wants.

They made a mistake. That’s all that happened, and Emma has to live with that. It won’t be nearly this awkward when she and Killian go back home. Then they’ll have their own rooms, and more importantly, their own beds. This will all be some distant, funky little memory. Emma can act like it’s all fine and normal for the next twenty-four hours.

She’s been acting like things are normal with her parents for years. She can do the same thing with Killian Jones.

Emma sighs and flips over. Killian is still on his back, his chest rising and falling slowly, and she’s jealous he can sleep so peacefully. She’s jealous that his mind isn’t running and freaking out over everything. He probably got everything he wanted out of her and is moving on fine.

That’s the attitude she should have.

Emma flips again, grabbing her phone off the nightstand. It’s five in the morning, and usually, she’s not allowed downstairs this early on Christmas morning. But she’s twenty-eight. It’s not like she believes a magical old man is climbing down the chimney leaving presents anymore.

Quietly, Emma gets out of bed and takes her phone with her. She walks downstairs and makes a beeline for the coffee maker. It takes far longer than it should to be ready, but eventually it’s ready. Her dad will make them a big breakfast this morning like he has most mornings she’s been here, so Emma doesn’t bother fixing herself food. She shivers at the thought of having to eat at the table and be able to keep a normal conversation with her parents. Ignoring that awful thought, she moves to the living room with her coffee and turns on the TV.

Emma is unsure of what exactly she’s watching for the next several hours but in the darkness of the morning with the Christmas tree glowing next to her, it’s enough to make her forget everything until her parents come walking down the stairs and the dark thoughts rear their ugly heads.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” David greets at the same time Mary Margaret says, “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Emma returns with a smile.

“Where’s Killian?”

“Still asleep.”

“Why don’t you go wake him?” her dad asks. “I could use a hand cooking breakfast.”

“I think I’ll let him sleep for a little bit more, but I’ll get him before you start cooking the eggs, okay?”

David leans down over her and kisses the crown of her head. “Sounds perfect.”’

The movie on the television ends, the credits quickly rolling before another one starts. She doesn’t recognize it and knows it’s probably not any good, but she watches it anyway. When she was a kid, Christmas morning was so different. She’d wait at the top of the stairs and then rush down them when she was allowed to see what Santa left under the tree. It was like real-world magic.

When did Emma lose that sense of wonder?

The stairs groan behind her, and Emma turns to see Killian walking down them, hair and t-shirt rumpled. He got the memo on not bothering to do anything with his appearance, apparently.

Suddenly, she’s thankful to have her mother here as a buffer. He won’t try to talk to her about last night when they’re still faking it in front of her parents. For the first time this entire trip, she hopes her mom never leaves to go sit in another room and talk on the phone with one of her friends.

“Morning, darling,” Killian whispers when he walks up to her. Emma cranes her neck back, putting on the show for her mom, but she nearly jumps when he leans down and lightly presses his lips over hers. They haven’t been doing that. It’s strictly been cheek or forehead. Bastard. “Happy Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you. I think Dad wanted you to help him cook breakfast. Are you up for that?”

He smiles. “I knew I’d grow on Dave. I’d love to help. You just stay on your ass and watch TV, being the most unhelpful person in this house.”

“Watch it, Jones.”

Killian’s brows dance across his forehead, and he teasingly grabs onto her earlobe before walking into the kitchen. Emma shakes her head and smiles as she brings her coffee mug to her lips.

“I’m so glad you’ve found Killian,” her mom sighs from her spot on the other end of the couch. “It’s good to see you happy now that you’ve found him. You’ve been so miserable lately.”

You have got to be kidding me, Emma thinks, her knuckles going white around her mug. She tries to take a few deep breaths, to calm herself down, but it’s been year after year of this same damn conversation without her mom listening.

Sometimes Emma thinks she’s shouting from the rooftop of an abandoned building with only empty rooms around to hear her.

If a woman yells in a forest and no one is around to hear her, does she really make a sound?

“I’m so sick of this, Mom,” Emma sighs, placing her mug down on the coffee table and bringing her knees to her chest. “I love you. I do. And most of the time I can understand where you’re coming from, but I was happy before I found Killian. Not totally, but I was happy. And you never seem to get that. You think I have to be in a relationship to have self-worth. God, is that why you’re still so friendly with Neal? I can’t think of any other reason other than you feel like I need to be with someone.”

“He’s a good man, sweetie. He was your first love. He’s – ”

“He’s not a good man!” Emma slaps her hands against her shin. “He broke my heart and ruined my life! He made me not pursue a stable future because he convinced me he knew what was best for me and then left me with nothing in the middle of the night. That isn’t a good man. That’s the opposite of a good man. If you had ever bothered to ask me why we broke up instead of immediately assuming I did something wrong, maybe you’d know that instead of inviting him into our house and acting like everything is fine.”

It feels damn to get all of that out even if Emma knows she’s about to send her mother into a tailspin.

That’s years of pent-up resentment and anger, or at least the beginning of it, and it’s…it’s, well, cathartic, even if it’s only the beginning.

“But he was - ”

“Oh my God, Mom,” Emma laughs, and she hopes the fan in the kitchen is loud enough that her dad and Killian don’t hear, “if you say he was my first love, I will leave this house right now and never come back. I get that you and Dad worked out, but that’s because you’re good for each other. I can guarantee Dad never abandoned you in the middle of the night, and I can especially guarantee that he didn’t pretty much emotionally abuse you for years of your relationship. Do you know what it’s like to have the one person in the world you love most basically tell you that you’re nothing? I’m not nothing. I was never nothing, but Neal could never see that.”

Emma hasn’t thought about her relationship with Neal in years. It’s something she pushes back and hopes to never have to deal with, and yet, here she is digging it all up because her mom made a comment Emma couldn’t let go.

Merry Christmas to us all.

“Emma, I’m sorry. I didn’t…I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, I know.”  Emma shrugs and looks into the living room where Killian and her dad are standing side by side cooking. She’s pretty sure her dad is about to try to poison Killian or stab him with a kitchen knife, but that’s a problem for another time. “But you should have. You should have when I called you crying, you should have when I told you I wanted to change my name because I felt like it could be a fresh start as my own person with no one holding me back. Instead you demonized me and put Neal up on a pedestal that you’re still putting him on. He’s engaged, Mom. I’m with - well, like you said, I’m with Killian. And even if neither of those things were true, you should be able to listen to me enough to know that being with him has never been good for me. So, please, God, just let me live with my life. I’m never going to be you. I’m never going to be perfect.”

Her mom wipes underneath her eyes, and Emma now feels like the shittiest person in the world for making her mom cry before eight on Christmas morning. How can she be so pissed off and sympathetic all at once?

“I am obviously not perfect,” Mary Margaret sniffles. “You’re my only daughter, and I apparently haven’t known you at all despite trying. I just can’t believe you changed your name. Was that really necessary? I - ”

“Nope.” Emma holds her hand up and stands from her chair. “I’m not having this conversation again. Maybe at another time we can hash all of our shit out, but I really don’t feel like doing it right now. I can’t get into that with you again.”

Emma picks her mug up from the coffee table and walks into the kitchen where Killian is moving a plate of her dad’s pancakes to the table.

“Mmm,” Emma sighs, “something smells delicious.”

Killian nearly drops the plate to the floor, but he saves it at the last minute. It’s not until he looks at Emma with raised brows and a million forehead lines that she realizes what she’s said.

Yeah, nearly having sex on her parents’ kitchen table goes high up on the list of Emma’s worst ideas.

“Everything alright with you, love?” Killian asks. He brushes his hands on his pants and then walks toward her, dipping his head down until he’s eyelevel. It’s unfair how blue his eyes are.

It’s unfair how much she notices stuff like that now.

“Yeah,” Emma lies while her heart races, “everything is just fine.”

-/-

Nothing about any of this is fine.

She shared too much with her mom, and even with it all out in the open, Emma doesn’t think she’ll ever be understood here. They were so blind to so much. One conversation can’t open the floodgates to knowing it all because they’ll never really understand the hell she went through, and now instead of being at peace with it, all Emma wants to do is pick fights with her parents

Like a totally rational adult woman.

So that’s not fine. What’s also not fine is the way Killian is sitting pressed up against her on the loveseat as they open presents. It’s too close, and it’s too much to watch him open presents from her parents that are genuinely thoughtful despite them only knowing each other for three days.

It’s all too much, and she is ready to get home, sleep in her own bed, and go back to the monotony of her life.

Because there she doesn’t have to think about any of this. It’s out of sight and out of mind, just the way she likes it.

They eat breakfast leftovers for lunch and dinner, and slowly but surely, the day fades away, the lights on the tree dimming a bit the closer to midnight it gets. Her parents leave to meet some of their friends for a drink, and she and Killian stay in the house, still lounging on the couch in their pajamas barely saying a word to each other. All day they’ve been having to play up their relationship, more than they have been, and she’s exhausted from it. At one point she wanted to let the truth fly, but she’s not evil enough to hurt her parents more than she already has.

She also doesn’t have the energy to get into another fight.

“You okay, Swan? You’ve seemed a little down today.”

Or maybe she does.

“Fine,” she mutters, pulling her blanket higher up her chest.

“Are you sure?” Killian prods. “Because we haven’t talked about last night, and I heard a bit of your conversation with your mom this morning. It’s perfectly alright not to always get along with family. It’s complicated. I understand that.”

Emma blows air out of her nose and turns away from Killian to watch the TV. “Please. You’ve got peanuts compared to the full-blown circus I have.”

It takes Emma approximately two seconds to realize that she has, to put it gently, fucked up.

Killian rises from his side of the couch and brushes his hand through his hair, tugging at the strands until they fall in his face. He sighs and shrugs his shoulders, defeated. “I am never going to dismiss how you struggle with your parents because it obviously affects you, but you do not get to sit there and say shit like that to me when I am only here with you because my family is all dead. I would give anything to have my loved ones here to fight with because at least then there would be the possibility of repair.”

He shakes her head and clicks his tongue before running it over his bottom lip. “Happy Christmas, Swan. I’m going to bed. We still set to leave at nine tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah. Killian, I’m - ”

“Don’t bother. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Killian.”

He walks up the stairs, and Emma falls back onto the couch. The new year is a week away, but she’s already asshole of the year.

Way to go, Emma.

How the hell is she supposed to fix this?

Emma pours herself another glass of wine and falls asleep on the couch after an hour of beating herself up about her general shittiness as a person. She only wakes when her parents come in and there’s a gentle push at her shoulder.

“Emma,” her mom whispers, “Emma, come on. You’ll hurt your neck if you sleep down here.”

Emma opens her eyes and groggily stands as her mom hovers over her. She’s still half-asleep as she hobbles out of the room, her mom following behind her up the stairs, and before Emma closes her bedroom door, she pokes her head out to look at her mom.

“Hey, Mom?”

“Yeah, hon?”

“You know I love you, right?”

Mary Margaret smiles, but it’s a little sad. Emma’s got no clue how to fix what’s between them, and she knows it’s not all on her to fix. At one point they were so close, and for so long this distance has been because Emma has refused to extend the olive branch and refused to be honest.

But also because her mom refused to see a lot of reality.

At least they’re both still here and have the opportunity to heal what’s been broken.

“I love you, too, Emma,” Mary Margaret whispers. “It’s been so nice having you home.”

She doesn’t say it, but despite all of the crazy things that have happened in the past few days, it’s nice to be home and to have someone care about her by making sure her neck doesn’t hurt from sleeping on the couch or by fixing her breakfast in the morning.

By pretending to be her boyfriend so she didn’t have to deal with an ex.

Emma nods and steps into her room. She’s as quiet as possible when getting into bed, and she doesn’t even say anything when she notices Killian is more on her side of the bed than his. Instead, she slips into that small space and hopes she can be forgiven too.

“I��m sorry,” she whispers before closing her eyes.

-/-

She’s half asleep in the morning when she first feels Killian move. They’ve done a pretty good job in staying in their own space while sleeping, but considering where he was when Emma got into bed last night, Emma wasn’t holding high expectations for this morning.

Not that she really thought about it.

But there’s definitely a hand on her boob and a half-erect dick pressed into the crevice of her ass, and as much as she doesn’t mind the feeling, she’s thankful when Killian moves, leaving her to the chill of an empty bed as he leaves the room to do who knows what outside.

-/-

What he does is shovel snow with her dad, help her mom with some last-minute tips on the renovation of their barn out back, and pack up their bags for the drive home. He’s cordial and affectionate as she says goodbye to her parents, promising to video chat with them more often so they can talk more, which Emma is simultaneously dreading and looking forward to, kind of like this ride home.

-/-

The drive back to Boston happens in almost complete silence, and if Emma didn’t have the radio to keep her company, she’d scream because the silence is so damn loud.

-/-

It’s the new year now.

Has been for about a week or so, and Emma spent the holiday out with Ruby and Dorothy and all of their friends. She wore a sparkly, slightly slutty dress that had her freezing all night long, but everything about it felt wrong.

Everything about everything feels wrong.

Well, that’s not true. For the first time in a long time, when she talks to her parents, it feels like they actually listen instead of projecting their own hopes and dreams to her. They see her as a person with feelings and failure instead of an idealized daughter who fits into their little, perfect box. She has to talk about shit she doesn’t want to talk about more often than not, but Killian’s words keep ringing in her head.

At least she has family around to fight with and to have those hard conversations with.

Killian isn’t around the apartment much. He comes in and out to eat and sleep, but ever since the car ride from hell, he’s been scarce. She’s tried to find time to see him, to apologize for being a dick and for all of Christmas as a whole, but that’s hard to do when she lives with the invisible man.

That’s hard to do when she has trouble admitting she was in the wrong.

It’s even harder when she has trouble admitting to herself that she has feelings for Killian Jones that far surpass just roommate feelings. Emma doesn’t know when the hell that happened or what to do with it, but it makes every night that she can’t talk to him torture.

How is it that she always screws everything up? And how does she go about fixing broken things when she’s still holding the hammer that broke the glass?

Maybe all she needs is an opportunity to talk to Killian where she can’t run away.

Yeah, all she needs is to just see him.

-/-

Why is he at this bar right now?

Okay, the real question is why is she at this bar right now? She had a hellish day at work, and all she wanted was to sleep. That’s all she wants to do lately, mostly because it means she doesn’t have to share the common area with Killian. If she’s sleeping, she doesn’t have to see anything, and everything is much, much better.

Or much, much worse, but Emma is trying not to think about that.

She’s trying not to think about Killian at all, which is decidedly not working out well when she thinks about him at least thirty-seven times a day. Thirty-eight now that he’s standing at the other side of cozying up to the most gorgeous woman Emma has ever seen. She’s tall and tan and has legs that go on for days. She looks like Ruby, and while Emma doesn’t know her, she seriously does not like her.

Because she’s lost her mind and has developed fucking feelings when she hasn’t wanted to do that, especially with someone she can’t get away from.

“Hey.” Ruby nudges her shoulder into Emma’s. “Why do you look like you want to punch someone? Am I that someone? Please don’t mess up my face. My makeup looks fantastic today.”

“Is that the only thing you’re concerned about?”

“Look at me. Doesn’t it look great?”

Emma rolls her eyes and sips on her wine. “You look great. Is that why you dragged me out here?”

“No, it was because you’ve been moping ever since you came home from Storybrooke. I know your relationship with your parents isn’t the best, but it’s not bad enough to have you grouchy for two weeks.”

How much would it be for Emma to drink the entire bottle of wine?

“I mean, it sucked, but I feel much better about my parents than I have in a long time. It’s more...I don’t - it’s - ”

“Killian Jones.”

“How did you know that?” Emma looks at Ruby, but she’s looking over Emma’s shoulder and toward where Killian was standing.

Ruby shakes her head. “Huh, no, I didn’t. That’s Killian standing over there. Wait.” Her red lips part. “What happened with you and Killian? Oh my God, did you fuck Killian when he went home with you?”

“Quiet,” Emma hisses, as if Killian could hear her over the music and the yards of distance between them. “No, I didn’t fuck him. I mean, I almost did, but my mom walked in.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Ruby gets in Emma’s face, and Emma really wishes Dorothy would show up and distract Ruby. “I need details.”

“That’s all there is to know.” Emma tips her glass to her lips, but there’s nothing left. Dammit. “We’d had a little to drink, and it...happened. Nothing else to tell.”

Ruby arches her brow. “So that’s why you’re not talking to him but staring him down and wishing you could pull that girl’s hair out?”

“I’m not doing either of those things.”

“Emma Swan is a li-aaaaar.” Ruby raises her hands and yells across the bar. “Hey, Jones!”

“Ruby Lucas is de-aaad,” Emma sing-songs back before straightening her back and sitting as tall as she can. To get the best leverage to kill Ruby, of course, not to make her boobs look good in this sweater.

“Hello, Ruby, Swan,” Killian greets. The woman who was hanging onto his arm is gone now, but Emma is sure she’ll see her back at their apartment later. “You both look lovely tonight.”

“Same to you, handsome.” Emma rolls her eyes as Ruby drags her finger down Killian’s button-down. It, of course, despite the cold temperature, is half-buttoned. “So, Emma hasn’t said it, but you two need to talk and get over whatever tiff you’re in. Whatever Emma did, she’s sorry, and she really wants to make out with you again.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Emma mouths to Ruby as she slides her forefinger across her throat. “Seriously.”

“Love you,” Ruby says, blowing Emma a kiss and walking across the bar to where Dorothy just walked in. Now the woman decides to show up. Of course. Why couldn’t she have been here two minutes earlier?

In a perfect world, Killian would laugh Ruby off and walk away, but this is not and has never been a perfect world. Hard conversations aren’t avoidable. Instead, they come at you like a freight train with no breaks. You either crash or jump on. Emma is wondering if she can simply jump off the tracks.

“Swan,” Killian starts, but Emma decides she’s going to jump off the tracks. She doesn’t want to do this. She grabs her coat and heads out the door, pushing past Ruby and Dorothy on her way out. This will cause ripples in her relationship with Killian no matter what. She can’t imagine he’ll want to stay living with the woman who was an ass to him and dismissed his brother’s death because she was so caught up in her own issues.

Seriously. Asshole of the Year. It’s officially official now.

It’s stopped snowing in the hour since she entered the bar, and instead of a fresh white coat, the ground is covered in slush that’s been walked over hundreds of times, footprints burying down to show the sidewalk. It’s wet and disgusting, and Emma tugs on her coat as she flees to keep her from getting hypothermia or some other awful disease.

There’s a tug on her hands, and suddenly she’s being pulled backward. She braces herself for a fight, but when she sees it’s Killian, she braces for another kind of fight.

He arches his brow. “What? You going to make a man drink alone in there?”

“I’m not in the mood for a drink. Or a man. Besides, it seems like you already had company with that freakishly long-legged woman who was desperate to make out with you.”

Emma knows that’s mean. She wishes she had legs like that woman, and she wishes she were the one who could hang out at a bar and flirt with Killian like that.

She really messed up there before things could begin.

“Why, Swan? You jealous?”

Emma scoffs and turns away from him. “Like I’ve said, in your dreams.”

Killian drops her hand and moves into her space. He’s always doing that. Personal boundaries are nothing to him. “Aye, quite often.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you dream of the girl who was rude to you and can’t seem to apologize and makes you chase her out of bars even though you live together and could just talk at home. But I imagine you’ll have what’s-her-name there, so I don’t think that’ll be a great time for me to tell you I’m sorry.”

“Love,” he teases, moving his brows and absolutely smirking, “I’m not angry with you over what happened on Christmas, not anymore, and while I’d like to talk about that later, I’d really rather talk about how jealous you are thinking of the possibility of me kissing Victoria in there.”

What a cocky jerk.

Seriously. Who thinks that highly of themselves just to say something so arrogant?

“You can kiss or not kiss whoever you damn well - ”

She doesn’t get to finish her sentence because Killian surges forward and presses his mouth against hers, not letting her speak or think or breathe as he kisses her.

And kisses her well, she might add.

Okay, well, that was unexpected.

Like, seriously unexpected. She thought he was about to tell her to go screw herself and find a new roommate because honestly, that’s what Emma would do if she had to live with someone who is as messy as she is.

It’s a lot to deal with, and her heart is still racing from their argument and her being on the verge of a meltdown, but much like the slippery, gross snow underneath her feet, she melts into the kiss (okay, so maybe she is one of those girls who melts like Frosty-the-freaking-Snowman), wrapping her arms around his neck as his hands come to rest just above her ass, tugging her further into him. This feels different than that first kiss, softer, slower, and maybe something else she just can’t place.

Right now, she doesn’t care to search for that word when for the first time in a long time, her life feels right.

“Did you just kiss me to shut me up?” Emma laughs against his lips.

“Did it work?”

Emma quickly glides her lips over his. “Maybe.”

“Good.” Killian presses his forehead against hers, and not to be Hallmark-level cheesy, but she has that thought again about something just feeling right. Terrifying but right. “And Swan?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s fucking freezing out here. Do you want to go back to our place and have what I can only hope is some amazing make-up sex?”

“Can you have make-up sex if you’ve never slept together before?”

Killian pulls back and wraps his arm around her shoulder, pulling her in until he kisses her temple. “We could find out. Or we could go home and see what’s on Netflix, eat some of your leftover Halloween candy.”

“Oh, bud,” Emma laughs, patting his chest and tilting her head to look up at him, “I stress ate that the day we got home from my parents’. But don’t worry, I bought some more last week.”

“I know,” Killian whispers, “I ate some of it when I was still pissed at you.”

Fair. she deserves that. She deserves much more than that, and she expects at some point, she and Killian will have it out like they deserve. She doesn’t get to just skip over the bad and into the field of lush flowers no matter how much it seems like that right now.

But at least there are flowers on the horizon.

“Was it the milk chocolate that made it all better?”

“Aye, it was.”

Emma drops her shoulders, and if she weren’t so sure she was awake, she would swear this was all a dream or part of her imagination from the emotional whiplash she’s experiencing.

“I guess I’ll have to find a new place to hide the candy then.”

“Oh, love, I’ll always find it.”

-/-

(PS: You can have make-up sex even if you’ve never had sex with that person before.)

(Emma and Killian were quick to test that theory out.)

(And eat the chocolate.)

-/-

-/-

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