#chapter and ending up alone and depressed and now it's happening again' LIKE EXCUSE ME

[yansurnummu]

chapter 23 is finally up!! drals has been due for a good old mental breakdown :)

[lightandheatao3]

The Bunker - Criminal Minds

Chapter 4: The Question

Summary: Spencer Reid wakes up in a locked bunker to find half the current BAU and two of its departed members unconscious on the floor. The old team is back together but the reunion is not what any of them would have wished for. An Unsub from their past has decided it's time they all stop keeping secrets, even if it means exposing them by force.

Hotch and Derek have been pulled back into a world they tried to escape. Emily, Rossi, and JJ are doing their best to keep it together. Spencer is falling apart.

AKA a found family is reunited and forced to go through the most nightmarish version of family therapy imaginable.

Set months after the end of Criminal Minds: Evolution. Evolution referenced, but not necessary to understand the story.

Chapter Summary: Tensions rise as time in the bunker drags on.

Read chapter 4 on AO3 or under the cut. All comments and reblogs are extremely appreciated <3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

“Come on man, get up.”

“What’s the point?” whined Spencer.

“The point is that muscles start to atrophy after 3 days of inactivity, and you have been holed up on that disgusting mattress for… what… like a week and half now? Longer than you should’ve been,” said Derek.

Spencer groaned. “I’ve been a bit sick, if you haven’t noticed.”

“Which is why we’ve left you alone, but you’re so goddamn shaky and thin you’re starting to resemble a chihuahua. You need to keep active, or you will just get sicker. That’s true for all of us,” he insisted.

“Come on, it’s simple calisthenics. No worse than you had to do at the academy,” said Emily, entirely too chipper.

“I hated doing it back then, too,” he said. “I would really rather never move again, thanks.”

“Of course you want to sleep all day,” said Derek. “It’s called clinical depression, Reid. It’s what happens when you replace your brain’s ability to self-regulate pleasure with heroin. You’re gonna be all fucked up for a while, but you’ll level out eventually. And you know what’s proven to be one of the most effective treatments for depression? Exercise! So get your ass up,” he ordered, nudging the mattress with his foot.

“Okay, okay, I get it. Just don’t complain when I pass out after 5 minutes,” he said, dragging himself up.

The last thing he wanted was to be roped into an extended conversation about the questionable state of his mental health.

“I’ll consider it 5 minutes well spent,” Derek said, reaching a hand down to help him to his feet.

Emily corralled them all into two lines while JJ placed herself at the front of the room, ready to lead the workout.

“Frankly, I’m with you, kid,” Rossi whispered, looking pointedly unhappy about the whole situation.

“Shut it,” said Emily.

Hotch smirked. “Pick your battles, boys.”

“Just you wait until it’s my turn to run the class tomorrow,” said Derek, positioned feet shoulder width apart and ready to go in the front line with Emily. “You’ll be begging to go back to this moment”

Rossi and Spencer both whinged, but they shaped up and did their best to mirror JJ’s movements when she called them to attention.

Spencer did not pass out, but he did make it almost precisely 5 minutes before having to very rapidly excuse himself to go throw up. After a few retches, he collapsed back onto the floor of the tiny en-suit, half curled around the toilet.

Rossi ducked his head in. “You doing alight? Need some help?”

“Just… just let me lie here for a minute.”

“Are you sure you don’t need me to stay with you?” he persisted.

“Get back in here, Rossi!” ordered Emily.

With a swear that was barely concealed under his breath, he left Spencer to languish on the floor.

A few minutes later he hauled himself out and retook his place in the group. Nobody said anything, but Derek had an annoyingly self satisfied smile. He only made it through another few exercises before he had to stop in earnest, but, as loathed as he was to admit it, he felt a tiny bit better. Emotionally, if not physically.

Emily, JJ and Derek all sat by him. Rossi had first dibs on the bathroom to wash his clothes and Hotch… well, he was sitting cross legged on the far side of the room meditating.

Spencer didn’t know if he was actually meditating, or if he just wanted to be left alone.

He’d warmed up to them all since they had been in the bunker. In fact he was almost warmer and friendlier than he had been when they were all still close. Or, maybe not friendlier, but gentle somehow, in a way Spencer had never seen him be with anyone but Jack and Beth before.

Still, he kept a distance from them. Even when they were talking, he could feel the invisible wall.

Not that Spencer was judging. He had plenty of his own walls.

“I know you feel like garbage, Spence, but you’re doing a lot better,” said JJ, looking pleased.

“Better than what?” he scoffed.

“Better than when you were pumping your veins full of dope every day,” suggested Derek, lying on the floor in front of where Spencer and the girls were siting, clasping his hands behind his head casually and putting his feet up against the wall.

Spencer narrowed his eyes, a flash of irritation at the lackadaisical attitude. “That’s an interesting philosophical debate. Do you really think I’d be worse off high in my apartment than soberly held captive by an Unsub?”

Derek tapped his foot thoughtfully. “I think, and correct me if I’m wrong here boy genius, those are not the only two options in the world.”

“Please, Morgan, if we make it out of here alive will you teach me how to be as virtuous as you?” he said sarcastically.

“Enough, both of you,” said Emily when Derek leaned his head up to argue back. “Spencer, stop scratching, you’re going to get an infection.”

He looked at her quizzically for a split second before realizing what she meant. He had been scratching at his arms without even noticing. He stopped, slinging them both over his knees instead.

The most recent track marks were scabbed over and the extra sensory sensitivity after withdrawal was making them itch like crazy.

It’s funny how quickly he’d gotten used to them seeing him like this. He was still in his singlet and pajama pants most of the time, the long sleeve shirt functioning more as a pillow than an item of clothing these days.

The others were the same, with everyone comfortably sitting around in their underwear when waiting for their clothes to dry. They’d all spent enough time in hotel rooms together over the years not to be precious about that sort of thing.

None of them even balked at the track marks anymore. They’d gotten used to them. He didn’t know how he felt about that.

He’d always hated having to hide and having them be so delicate about the subject of his addiction, but now they were infuriatingly direct. Far from walking on eggshells, they were stomping as brashly as they pleased. Especially Derek.

It was really starting to piss him off.

That might have been because literally everything was pissing him off since detoxing.

He tried not to feel too bad about it. He wasn’t the only one who’d been a bit snippy. The complete absence of privacy and personal space wasn’t doing any of them any favors.

“Can I ask you something?” asked JJ, catching his eye.

He sighed. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“Probably not,” she admitted.

A beat. “You can ask.”

She looked him up and down. Emily was glancing between them, and Derek had cracked an eye open.

“What happened two years ago?” she asked gently. “Why did you start using again?”

He was surprised it took them this long. He’d been waiting for them to interrogate him on the subject since the second that goddamn note was read out.

This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have. It wasn’t one he knew how to have.

“Nothing happened,” he said softly.

“I don’t believe that.”

“Addicts relapse, JJ. An estimated 88% of all heroin addicts relapse within 1 to 3 years of quitting. I know you all think I’m different somehow, like I’m supposed to be smarter than that. That’s not how it works.”

He didn’t mean to sound harsh, but even he could hear the bite in his voice by the end. There was a little part of him that resented them for even being surprised at his relapse, as if there was something about him that precluded him from that kind of indignity. It was misdirected and he knew it.

“That’s not what I’m saying,” said JJ defensively. “If you don’t want to talk about it just say so.”

Before he could apologize to her, Derek chimed in with, “It’s what I’m saying.” He sat up. “You’re right, Reid, you are supposed to be smarter than this.”

“Thanks, Morgan. Invite me to the ceremony when they give you a Nobel prize for fixing the opioid epidemic.”

Derek folded his arms and continued as if Spencer hadn’t said anything. “You didn’t choose to be an addict, but you did choose to do it alone. If you hadn’t cut yourself off from all of us when you relapsed, we would have helped you. You chose to keep pretending everything was fine while it spiraled out of control. Every time we talked, every time you visited, I asked you what was happening in your life, and you chose to lie. For someone so goddamn smart, you've been making a lot of incredibly stupid choices.”

Hotch had opened his eyes and Rossi had re-emerged from the bathroom still holding a soapy, wet shirt in his hands.

Spencer and Derek had both stood up and Spencer wasn’t even sure when they’d done it.

Emily didn’t intervene this time. Apparently, they were doing this.

“You’re right, I didn’t ask for your help and I don’t want it now!” He took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. Through gritted teeth he said, “I am grateful to you all for getting me through withdrawal and I am sorry I put you through that. Can’t that be enough for now? We clearly have bigger problems than this.”

“No.”

“No?” he said indignantly.

“No. Why won't you talk about this? What could you possibly have to say that’s worse than what we already know?” Derek demanded, volume rising with every word.

“I don't want to talk about it because I know what you want me to say! You want me to tell you that if we get out of here I’m going to get treatment and go to meetings and pinkie promise I’ll never use narcotics again,” Spencer said, matching his volume and emphasizing the words with a wave of his hand.

“The only thing I want is for you to tell me the fucking truth!”

“No, you don’t!”

“Yes, I do! I don’t care how bleak it is, just for one fucking second be honest about what you want!”

“The truth is I don’t want to do this!” shouted Spencer. “If I had heroin, I would shoot up right now, right here in this fucking room while you watched. Are you happy? Is that what you wanted to hear? I don’t want to be fixed!”

“Why not?” yelled Derek.

They stared at each other, both breathing heavily. Spencer had been staring directly into his eyes for far longer than he would normally be able, fueled by adrenaline.

He caught glimpse of something behind the anger that in another circumstance he might have missed.

Helplessness.

Oh.

Derek wasn’t mad.

He was terrified.

The realization hit him like a physical blow.

Spencer stared at him, opening his mouth but not finding any words.

“Why don’t you want us to help? Why don’t you want to be fixed? What the hell happened to you?” pleaded the closest thing he’d ever had to a brother. “What’s your plan when we get out of here? You wanna go be a junkie, dead in a year? You had 15 years clean, man. Why are you doing this?”

His eyes burned, moisture pooling in the corners. Why? Why was he doing this?

What answer could ever satisfy them?

The air between them filled with poisonous silence.

Out of the silence came a voice, too small for him to make out the words. Derek held his gaze, fighting tears of his own, but asked to someone to the side, “What did you say?”

“It wasn’t 15 years,” said JJ, louder this time.

Another shiver of panic worked its way down Spencer’s spine.

“What are you talking about?” demanded Derek.

“He said ‘times.’ When we first got the note. He said we weren’t there the other times he went through withdrawal. Plural.”

Fuck. Why could he never just say the right thing?

Derek squared off, lifting a hand to wipe under his eyes. “JJ’s right, isn’t she.” He wasn’t shouting anymore. When Spencer didn't answer, he took it as all the confirmation he needed. “Was it after prison?”

He shot a brief look off at the others, silently urging them to step in and save him.

JJ wouldn’t look at him. She looked small. He never wanted to do this to her.

Hotch was eyeing him like he was trying to solve the puzzle of what bits of Spencer Reid had been irreparably broken in his absence. Prison had certainly done some damage that couldn’t be undone.

He looked back at Derek. “No. That was… It was hard, but no.”

“So, when?” he asked, cocking his head, waiting for Spencer to give him something concrete to fight about.

He looked back at JJ, who still wouldn’t meet his eye.

She already knew.

“Oh no,” said Emily softly, putting it together. “It was after I faked my death to hide from Doyle.”

He was torn between Derek and JJ, and all the other people in this room who his deficiencies kept hurting.

Their fight after it was revealed that JJ knew Emily was alive had almost destroyed their friendship. In retrospect, he understood she was doing the best she could with horrible circumstances, trying to protect Emily.

He also knew, equally certain, that he would have told her. If the situations were reversed and she came to his door, crying, grieving, on the verge of a breakdown, he would have told her.

She knew it, too.

He was aware that she still held tightly onto that guilt. He regretted so badly the way he’d treated her when he first found out. He never wanted to tell her this. Never.

He turned away from Derek, who was still staring at him like he’d ripped his heart out of his chest.

“JJ, please talk to me.”

He stepped forward, putting his hands on her arms. She looked up at him, red eyed and exhausted.

“You told me you didn’t use. You only thought about it,” she said, sounding numb. “I believed you. Except… I think I just wanted to believe you.”

“I’m sorry.” He pulled her into a hug. She held onto him tightly. “You did the right thing back then. My actions weren’t your fault.”

The moment was over as quickly and horribly as it began when the chamber on the door banged.

Of course this interruption couldn't have come minutes earlier when he desperately needed it.

A gloved hand reached in to deposit a brown paper bag.

Derek was slow to react, not running to the door in his usual effort to ingratiate himself to their captor through one sided conversation.

When nobody moved, the interrupted outbreak of truth and consequences weighing them down too heavily, Hotch stepped towards the door.

He moved slowly, deliberately, as if one muscle twitching out of place would set off a bomb. Spencer wasn’t sure where he thought the explosion might be coming from.

When Hotch opened the chamber and extracted the brown paper bag, he stared at it. Not moving, just staring down at the thing he was holding, presumably filled with more fruit. Nobody else moved. Nobody spoke.

In one swift and vicious action, Hotch flung the bag across the room!

Fruit scattered over the concrete in a colorful arc. An overripe peach splattered on the far wall.

They all flinched at the sudden act, but before anyone could talk, Hotch had rounded on the camera in the roof with its infuriating, endlessly blinking red light.

He spoke low, dangerous. “When we get out of here, and we will, I’m going to kill you myself. Forget life in prison, I will put you down like a fucking dog.”

Spencer sucked in a sharp breath, not realizing he’d been holding it. JJ was gripping his arm tight enough to cut off circulation. He let her. The room was cavernous, quiet, oppressive.

Hotch clenched and unclenched his fists. Emily stepped forward, mouth open, a hand outstretched towards his shoulder but not bold enough to actually touch him, yet he pulled away from her as if she had.

“I’m fine,” he snapped. He took in a ragged breath, scrubbing his hands over his face, then lowered them. This time, calmer: “I’m fine.”

He looked around the room at the scattered fruit. With another deep breath, he bent down and started gathering it up. Emily stepped forward to help him.

Spencer, JJ, and Derek exchanged looks. Spencer knew they would not be dropping the subject forever, but for now they settled on an agitated, embarrassed truce. Well, Spencer was embarrassed. Derek might just have been agitated.

Had he really said, out loud, that he would shoot up in front of them if he had to? He was almost certain he would actually follow through with that given the choice. There's almost nothing he wouldn't do to get high at this point. Withdrawal and being stuck in the bunker had only made his cravings stronger.

He had certainly not intended to tell them that, though.

The three of them broke away, moving to help Hotch and Emily. JJ grabbed the paper bag for them to consolidate the food, while Derek moved to clean the peach that was dripping down the wall.

As Hotch dropped his handful of citrus and apples into the bag JJ was holding, he paused. The rest of the room paused too, waiting to see what he would do.

“It was my call to keep everyone in the dark about Prentiss. It was cruel to put that on you.” He looked around at the rest of them. “It was cruel to all of you.”

“You did what you thought was right,” said Spencer. He locked eyes with JJ. “Both of you did.”

Hotch eyed him off, picking him apart in a way that made Spencer want to bury his face in his hands like a little kid, desperate not to be seen. He resisted the urge.

“You still don’t believe it was the right call,” said Hotch eventually, a statement not a question.

Spencer frowned. “No,” he said honestly. “But I know you believed it. That’s enough for me.”

Hotch shook his head. Clearly, it wasn’t enough for him.

Emily looked between all of them, grey hair falling oddly prettily over her shoulders as she swiveled her head. “I mean, if we want to play the blame game, it’s really my fault for keeping you all in the dark about Doyle,” she pointed out. “Or Doyle’s fault for creating the whole mess. We can go even deeper. In a round about way, it’s really my mother’s fault I got into intelligence in the first place. We can all blame my mother! Trust me, it’s one of my favorite pastimes. It’s cathartic. Go ahead,” she encouraged.

Derek laughed. Even JJ cracked a smile.

“I really dislike your mother, so this is compelling,” deadpanned Hotch.

Emily chuckled. “Yeah, she hates you too buddy.” To the room at large she said, “I know we’re all going a bit crazy in here, but everything we’re feeling has to be secondary to the ultimate goal of getting out. I’ve been thinking about that, and-”

“Emily,” said Rossi, wet, half-washed shirt sitting discarded on the floor, forming a puddle.

Spencer hadn't even registered that he hadn't spoken or helped with the cleanup, caught up in the interpersonal drama as he was.

Emily looked at Rossi quizzically.

Spencer’s blood ran cold. It was crumpled from having been tossed across the room with the rest of the bag’s contents.

Rossi held a folded piece of paper in his hand. With it, a photograph, the edge of which was just sticking out between the folds. He offered it to Emily. “Sorry,” he said sympathetically. “Looks like you’re up.”

[ash5monster01]

Goes On Chapter Eleven

Pairing: Charlie Dalton x OC!FemReader

Warnings: 18+, depression, mentions of suicide, heavy topics, eventual smut, slow burn romance, fluff, gender themes/stereotypes.

Summary: Against his best efforts Charlie has to start at a new preparatory school after the tragic events that took place at Welton. The very events that led to the loss of his best friend and getting expelled in the first place. He has no plans to make friends let alone get close to anyone ever again. That is until he meets Evelyn and her interesting group of friends. No matter how hard he tries to push them away he finds it to be impossible. So he caves and in the end learns that life can still be enjoyable even if it feels like everyone is against you.

word count: 2.8k

Ten ←→ Twelve

Masterlist

Ridge Academy, NY

2/20/60

When Evelyn wakes up the next morning the smile on her face is still wide. She had never really known what this feeling would be like. That feeling you get when you like someone and they just so happen to like you back. It made you feel brand new, refreshed, hopeful. Which may explain why getting up so early on a Saturday hadn’t bothered her like it normally would. Instead she turns off her alarm on the first ring and makes her way to the showers with that beaming grin.

It’s not long until she’s dressed in a simple floral dress, thankful they weren’t required school uniforms on the weekend. When she adds a little more makeup than normal she excuses it as feeling experimental but honestly she just wanted Charlie to look at her with those eyes that he always does. The eyes that make her squirm in her seat while she feels every nerve ending go off in her body. In fact she’s glad him finally kissing her last night didn’t entirely short circuit her brain.

“You’re forgetting something” Violet grins behind her in the reflection of the mirror and Evelyn furrows her eyebrows as she looks back at her.

“What?” she questions, eyebrows pulled together tightly. She inspects her face quickly, worried she had messed something up or missed and Violet just laughs.

“If you’re gonna put all that effort into your makeup you might as well cover up that neck” Violet says, hand reaching to tip her neck up and reveal the dark red mark right above her throat. Evelyn gasps in an instant, eyes now trained on the spot that is very visibly now that she’s paying attention. Her stomach drops at the idea of other students seeing it as they roam the halls today.

“Shit” she mutters, hands fumbling through the makeup on her desk in search of anything that could possibly cover it up. Violet quickly sets a hand on her own, stopping the girl from stressing too much.

“Calm down and let me help” Violet tells her, grabbing her own chair and pulling it next to hers. Evelyn tries to calm as the girl gets to work, hands grabbing the makeup and focusing her attention to the mark.

“How do you know what to do?” Evelyn asks after a beat, her heart rate now at a normal and soft thump. Violet just giggles at the question as she glances up from her neck and into her eyes.

“When Marty and I first got together he would always leave marks on accident, I got pretty good at covering them up and now I just make sure he leaves them where others can’t see” she says, suggestion in her tone and eyebrows raised which makes Evelyn laugh loudly at the notion.

“It was my first real kiss” Evelyn whispers, recalling the two other times she had barely pecked a boy and felt nothing but regret in her stomach. Instead she kissed a boy hard and good and in return the butterflies hadn’t left her stomach yet.

“He’s good for you and I’m pretty sure you’re good for him too. Hell, he would barely talk to us when he started, and now I can’t get rid of the guy” Violet teases and Evelyn laughs again, admiring the black hair that cascades down her friends back as she works on fixing her neck up.

“I’m just so nervous, I don’t really know what this means for us. I wasn’t even really planning on kissing him but he just showed up at the door and I couldn’t help myself” Evelyn says, softly shaking her head and using the brunette curls falling forward to hide her face. Violet just smiles, leaning back as she checks over her work.

“It means he likes you, and you like him. Don’t let the pressure of others and their expectations ruin what you guys already got. Just cherish it and the rest will happen on its own” she tells her, recalling all the times people had judged her and Marty for getting together so young. At least they had stayed together the whole time, a testament that each of those people were wrong.

“And if he doesn’t want to date me?” Evelyn voices her worries and Violet just gives her a soft smile, knowing how long her best friend waited to feel this way about someone, to stop feeling broken because she couldn’t have crushes like other girls.

“He does, but if not he’s an idiot and I’ll kill him” Violet deadpans and Evelyn is laughing again, heart easing due to her best friends words and the she’s wrapping the raven haired girl into a hug.

“Thanks V” she tells her honestly and Violet hugs right back, enjoying the time alone they have together within this dorm. “Now, how does my neck look?” Evelyn asks pulling back and lifting her chin for Violet to investigate.

“As good as it’s gonna get” she tells her, knowing no makeup in the world was ever that successful at covering any mark left by a silly lovestruck boy. Evelyn turns to the mirror to find it much better than before but the shadow of it still there. Accepting her fate she stands and joins the girl.

“Let’s get breakfast then” she tells her and the girls are off in search of their friends and Saturday morning pancakes which was the only good reason for getting up so early on a Saturday around here. Plus Evelyn wanted to get a head start on planning the spring sport fundraisers before she had a meeting that more than likely only Charlie would show up too.

The closer the pair got to the dining hall the more nervous Evelyn became. She wasn’t used to being nervous like this but for the first time in her life she was going to face a boy she liked and not only liked but had kissed just last night. Her cheeks were already burning red just thinking about it and Violet just shook her head as the two walked through the lunch line and headed for their table that held all of their friends.

“Morning” Marty beamed as the two girls joined them. Evelyn felt her heart drop as she realized Charlie wasn’t there. Nate saw the disappointed look in her eyes and felt jealousy twist in his gut as she moved to sit beside him.

“Heard you got caught sneaking to Marty’s room last night” Laurie teases, eyes twinkling with amusement as she looks at Nate who had told them about how him and Charlie had spotted the girl.

“Better the boys than Mr. Holly” Violet said with a shrug, taking a bite of pancake and grinning around the fork.

“Seems like everyone had a bit of fun last night” Laurie grins, eyes landing on Evelyn. The thing about Laurie is she notices everything, observes everyone and everything around her. The evident disappointment, red cheeks, and half visible hickey on the girls neck were all immediately noticed by the blonde girl. Her awareness is what made her the queen of drama at Ridge.

“What?” Evelyn gapes, getting more nervous as everyone at the table begins to stare at her. Laurie just smiles, leaning against Marty to reach for the girl across the table, manicured nails turning her chin upwards and as the bruise is revealed to everyone Marty snorts, coughing around his food.

“Holy shit, Ev’s got a hickey” he says and the girl quickly shushes him, pulling away from the blonde girl who settles back into her seat across from her. Nate’s stomach drops, the sight of the small bruise pointing out Charlie did much more than kiss the girl. His girl even. Yet he had to save face, he had told himself he would get over this. He just didn’t think it would be this hard.

“Stop, it’s nothing. Especially since he couldn’t bother to show up this morning” Evelyn grumbles, eyes dropping to her plate so they can’t see her utter disappointment and Nate suddenly feels guilty. He wakes up Charlie every Saturday but today he didn’t because he was jealous.

“Evelyn I’m sure it’s not you” Violet starts but the group is cut off as the chestnut haired boy clambers into the seat beside the girl, hair a disarray and black t-shirt wrinkled against his skin. The very shirt he slept in and didn’t bother to change since he was in such a rush.

“Shit, what time is it?” He asks quickly, shoving his tray onto the table and the group laughs while Evelyn beams a bright smile at the boy beside her. As Charlie glances amongst the table he spots Evelyn’s soft smile and returns one back.

“It’s nine, there’s still a half hour of breakfast” she tells him and he smiles at how gorgeous she looks. He loved weekends when he could see the girl in her regular clothes. It gave him a better image of what life would be like with her outside of this school. That is if he got to keep her.

“Hi” he tells her, a little breathless and eyes shining into her own like they always did. The very look Evelyn had been hoping for as she got ready this morning. Then much to Evelyn and everyone else’s surprise Charlie leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek before turning to his food.

“You forget to set your alarm?” Marty asks, laughing lightly at the boys disheveled appearance. Charlie sends him a glare before glancing over Evelyn’s head to look at Nate.

“Nate usually wakes me but I guess this morning he forgot” and with everyone’s eyes on him Nate not only feels guilty for giving Evelyn doubts about Charlie but guilty because he knows everyone at this very table knew he had done it on purpose.

“My bad man, I just forgot” he says and doesn’t even convince himself before turning back to his own plate of food that he had barely touched due to the fact his stomach was in knots all morning

“So, this is like officially a thing?” Laurie asked, pointing between both Charlie and Evelyn. Instead of responding Evelyn thinks about what Violet had said and looks to Charlie to see if there is any regret written on his face.

“I guess so” Charlie just tells her before flashing Evelyn a smile and continuing to eat his food. Evelyn can’t help the wide smile that crosses her face as she drops her head to look at her food. The rest of the table share knowing looks but this time no one offers Nate a remorseful smile because his own jealousy would be the thing to ruin his friendship with Evelyn, not telling her his feelings.

After finishing breakfast and being harassed for the hickey on Evelyn’s neck the group is quick to move on to the rest of their day. Retreating to study halls, clubs, sports, and group projects. Charlie promises Evelyn he’ll meet her soon for planning committee, needing a shower and change of clothes before he went about the rest of his day. That’s how he finds himself walking back to his dorm with Nate by his side.

“Look man, I know you’re upset but that was a dick move” Charlie tells him as he pushes through the dorm door and Nate drops his head.

“I know” he mutters, watching as Charlie collects his towel and a change of clothes so he can head to the showers. Nate had been too busy letting his emotions control him he nearly forgot he finally had a friend, the kind he always wanted.

“I know this whole thing isn’t ideal, I’d hate it if I were in your shoes too. You have to remember we’re friends though and you were the one who decided to let her go” Charlie tells him, tossing the towel over his shoulder. Nate groans, hating himself even more for deciding to let her go.

“I know man, I don’t know what to tell you though. It’s not like I just fell out of love with her over night okay. I need time to process and when things happen like you biting her neck I struggle” Nate tells him, sitting on his bed and running his hands through his hair. H hated that he never committed and he knew he was being a child but this was just how it was now.

“Nate, I’m not a fucking vampire. Also I obviously know that but if you love her you have to let her be happy and I like to think I make her happy. Plus she makes me really fucking happy, for the first time in months, even when I thought I never would be again. So please, be a friend” Charlie pleads and Nate is reminded of the truth that Charlie had shared with him not so long ago. A sentiment that he was just a guy trying to figure things out and his intentions weren’t to be mean.

“Okay” Nate agrees even though agreeing officially confirmed he would never leave the friend zone no matter how badly he wanted to. Charlie nods once he realizes Nate has agreed and then starts for the door.

“I’ll see you later” he tells him before going off and getting the shower he should’ve had this morning.

It’s not long until he’s finally refreshed and on his way to meet Evelyn. The excitement of seeing her alone has him nearly buzzing as he laps the hallways in search of the girl. Coming upon the study room used for planning committee he shoves through the door without a second thought. He watches as the girl looks up from her alphabetized and color coded planning binder and offers him a grin.

“Clean now, are you?” She teases and he rolls his eyes before moving to the chair beside her.

“Fresh as a daisy, want to smell?” He asks her, moving to nudge his face near her own and she giggles as his slightly damp hair brushes against her cheek.

“I trust you” she squeals, shoving him away and he grins, searching her features and taking all of her in now in the daylight.

“I can’t stop thinking about last night” he tells her and Evelyn blushes lightly, eyes glancing away under his stare and Charlie just smiles, hand reaching to tuck some hair behind her ear.

“We have to plan the fundraiser” she tells him, hands still gripping the binder that Charlie swears is her lifeline but he just chuckles and ducks in close, lips capturing her own. The hum of contentment that leaves her mouth tells him that she actually doesn’t mind one bit.

“We can plan later, I want to make up for all the time I haven’t been able to kiss you” he mutters against her lips and the words wrap around Evelyn’s heart and she wishes to tie it with a bow and keep them there forever.

“Such a sap” she mutters back before reaching to run her fingers through his damp hair. Charlie smiles against her lips, kissing her deeply due to the action. When his lips start to trail down to her neck again she’s too lost in his touch.

“For the first time I’m so glad no one ever shows up to meetings for my club” Evelyn says, a little breathless and lips swollen from him. Charlie laughs, hot breath fanning across her neck and Evelyn laughs from the ticklish feeling and pulls away.

“Hey, get back here” Charlie pouts, arms snaking around her waist and Evelyn shakes her head as he pulls her flush against him.

“No, no more hickeys. I don’t want to get caught again” she tells him and Charlie laughs, hugging her close and Evelyn hugs right back.

“Sorry, I just can’t get enough of you” he tells her and Evelyn smiles, pressing a soft kiss to his nose and admiring his chocolate eyes.

“Yeah, same” she tells him with a grin and Charlie kisses the corner of it, thankful to finally have her all to himself. Not hold back every time he wants to kiss her for being so damn adorable.

“In that case, do you want to join me on a date tonight?” He asks and Evelyn blushes, thinking of how she was never one of those girls who was able to go to the small cafe on campus and go on dates. The small restaurant a hot spot for Saturday night dates with the heart throb boys.

“I’d like that” she tells him and Charlie smiles and presses his lips to hers again.

“Good, then maybe after I’ll sneak into your room again”

Taglist: @octaviasdread @eden-punk @linmichea1 @pursuedbyamemoryy @mynameisjxlia

Comment if you want to be added to the taglist :))

[meetmyothersouls]

Holding my breath until back to you 5 comes out, sorry not sorry 💅🤪

I hope you’re still alive ��

Back To You

Jonah Hauer-King x first person reader

Warnings: memory loss, angst and tension, hang over

Chapter 5

“Are you okay? Are you going to be sick again?” Jonah asks, dropping his towel he was using to dry his hair. The towel around his waist is held in place as he rushes over to me. He kneels down beside the bed and I slide away from him.

“I…did we…?”

His eyebrows furrow in confusion just before his eyes widen in realization. “What? Oh no, no. No of course not.”

I look down at the oversized t-shirt I’m wearing. Then back up at Jonah.

“I had Haven clean you up and dress you for bed,” Jonah sighs. He gets back up and walks into the massive walk in closet. I hear him rummaging around and he comes back out in a plain black t-shirt and a pair of tight boxer shorts. I’m still slightly nauseous and my head is pounding from the apparent headache I’m going to be suffering from todays, but I’m not oblivious to the package he’s sporting underneath those boxers. I try my best to avoid eye contact. “Y/n?”

“Hm?”

“Did you hear anything I just said?”

“No sorry, I was thinking of…something else. What did you say?”

“I said, I didn’t even kiss you back last night even though I desperately wanted to, because you were drunk. Do you really think-”

“Oh god!” I interrupt him and he looks back up at me in shock. “I thought I dreamed that!” I get out of bed and stumble to the door. I’m trying to escape both Jonah and the embarrassment of being rejected by him, but he’s trailing behind me. I hear his footsteps tapping a few stairs behind me as I clamber down the staircase.

“Y/n, slow down. You’re going to fall!”

“Please just leave me alone, Jonah!”

“No!”

“Why!?”

“Because you’re my wife, and I will never leave you alone!”

“Did we sleep together?” I turn around suddenly as Jonah runs into me. My face is inches away from his freshly washed body and his prefect pressed t-shirt. He smells like a very expensive body wash, something that would named Amazon Rain or Mountain Mist. I don’t make eye contact with him, instead I’m staring at his chest like an idiot, because I can’t bring myself to look at someone like him in the eye.

“What?” His accent is thick when he’s confused.

“You were showering in my room. I just assumed that-”

“Actually it’s our room, Y/n. And no we didn’t. As I was trying to say before you stormed out of our room, I didn’t even kiss you. I didn’t undress your or clean you up like I wanted to. Your sister did. I used that shower because other other bathroom was occupied. Now if you’ll excuse me I need to finish packing.”

My anger subsides and I feel both stupid and depressed. Why did this have to happen to me? How, out of everyone in this fucking city, was it be that ended up losing the last 4 years of their life? Did he say he was packing? I feel even worse that I’ve now driven the one man who was supposed to love me away. I’m crying now and I can’t help the shaking in my voice.

“Are…are you leaving me?”

Jonah turns around from his walk back to the stair case and it seems the annoyance I caused from my outburst has melted away from him as well. His face has softened and his eyes study me. “Of course not,” Jonah says softly. I let him pull me into a hug because I need it. Jonah holds me against his body tightly in what I would call ‘the perfect hug’. My face is tucked in just under his collar bone and I breathe in his scent again. Jonah’s hands rub my back and I lean into his touch. I can’t help it. If someone were to walk in they’d definitely assume we were a couple, this feels like much more than a friendly embrace. I feel Jonah press his nose into my hair. I can’t tell if he’s inhaling or sighing. Maybe he’s taking in my scent like I am his. “Whether you like it or not, you’re stuck with me for at least a month.” He presses a kiss into my hair. “Hopefully much more.”

I unwrap my arms from Jonah’s waist and look up at him. He’s looking down at me. He licks his lips and my stomach flips. I want to kiss him. I have the overwhelming urge to feel his lips against mine again. I don’t even remember how they felt because I was too drunk to retain the memory. “Where are you going?” I ask in an attempt to push the thought away.

“Just a short trip.”

“Where to?” The idea of Jonah going on a trip seems strange to me, especially if he has the idea of ‘winning me back’ within a the month.

“I’d uh…I’d rather not say.”

“Why not?”

“Because, I just..I don’t-”

“Oooh are you seeing another woman? That’d make this whole thing a lot easier,” I joke.

Jonah groans and rolls his eyes before trudging back up the stairs. I trail after him. I was joking but it’s clear I struck a nerve. He’s going back into my room and he’s already inside the closet again before I’ve made it all the way up the stairs. Curse his long legs. He’s got a duffel bag on my bed and he’s throwing clothes haphazardly into the bag, not even folding them. His jaw is clenched and I have to admit he looks quite sexy irritated.

“Jonah, I was just kidding.”

“It’s not funny, y/n.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said it. Look, this whole thing is still…weird for me. I don’t know how to joke with your or even talk with you. I’m still learning, Jonah. You’re going to have to give me some time.”

“We don’t have that much time, y/n.”

“So then why are you going in a trip? Must be pretty fucking important if you’re leaving while you’re on borrowed time.”

Jonah throws a shirt into the bag and stares at me. He’s studying me, and again I feel like I’m missing a giant piece of myself. A piece of a puzzle that he’s got but won’t quiet fit into place. Jonah sighs and sits on the bed, his head in his hands. “I need to go on this trip, Y/n. I debated whether or not I should go and I really think it would be good for me.”

I make an effort to soften my voice. I sit next to him on the bed. “Can you tell me where it is? Where you’ll be? You know…in case I need you.”

He swallows hard when I say ‘need you’ but I pretend not to notice. His hair is still damp and he’s got the faintest five o’clock shadow. I think about how it would feel to lay him back on this bed, crawl on top of him and kiss him slowly. God damn it.

“I’m going to a cabin up north.”

“What for? Is it special?”

“Well, it’s where we spent our honeymoon. I guess I’ll just tell you. This weekend is our five year anniversary. I was going to take you there as a surprise but then…the accident happened and you know the rest.”

He won’t look at me. He’s picking at his thumbnail and all I want to do is grab his face and kiss him. He clearly loved me and our life together so much. I don’t think I’ve ever been given a gift as thoughtful as that. “Jonah,” is all I can manage to say.

He sniffles once and clears his throat. “Yeah, so I think it’d be good for me to go, you know?”

“Alone? Jonah you can’t go alone. Let me go with you. It might be good for my memory and such.”

“I didn’t think you’d want to.”

“Are you kidding? I’m not letting you go alone.”

Jonah’s POV:

I’ve been put through a ringer of emotions today, but I think we’re making progress. Y/n seemed upset at the thought of me leaving her, which at least gives me the feeling that she likes me at least a little bit. A step in the right direction of nothing else. She also looked at me just like she did when she used to pounce on me with kisses. She didn’t kiss me but the look alone had my heart racing.

I’m making dinner when Haven comes into the kitchen with Jorge. They’re laughing about something. Good.

“Where’s y/n?” Haven asks.

“She’s upstairs packing.”

“Couldn’t take one more second of your sorry ass, I assume?” Jorge sneers.

I can’t help but smile. “Actually the opposite, we’re going up north together.”

Haven looks horrified so I elaborate. “It’s the cabin we spent our honeymoon in. It’s our five year anniversary this weekend and I was going to go alone, but now y/n wants to go.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Haven asks.

“What did you do to convince her to go? Did you cry like a little bitch?” Jorge adds. Haven smacks his shoulder and Jorge dramatically rubs it.

“I’m not going to tell her not to come, I’m trying to get her back, Haven, this is the perfect opportunity.”

“Well…maybe I should come too? It’ll be good for y/n to have someone she can come to if she’s feeling overstimulated or if she has a panic attack.”

Just as Haven finishes her sentence, y/n is coming down the stairs. She’s actually smiling and it’s the best thing I’ve seen in weeks.

“What are you guys talking about?”

“How much did Jonah pay you to go on a holiday with him?”

“What?” Y/n laughs. “No I want to go.”

“Well maybe I should come to?” Haven asks y/n. I’m silently praying she says no.

“Yeah! That’d be fun! Jorge should come to.”

I try not to groan out loud. Hopefully I can still make some progress with y/n.

Tags: @danielabetancourth @luna2034 @wandamaximoffbae @twinkledinkleg-blog @anonyymoouussssss @nonsensical-nonsence @paramorelvrr @thedonswife13 @miniemonie2001 1 @jonahhauer-kingg

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[cupoftaae]

Forever And A Day (KTH x READER) series ♡ we always end up like this (chapter 8)

Summary: your lifelong friend is forced to face his true feelings for you once he breaks the number one rule of becoming friends with benefits: dont fall in love. He knows he loves you, but you on the other hand need more convincing of the most important thing: the right decision.

Genre: fwb. Roommates, friends to idiots to lovers, fluff, angst, smut, the whole 9 yards tbh.

Pairing: taehyung x female!reader

rating: 18+ (minors dni!!!)

word count- 5k !!

Chapter warnings- swearing, mentions of fights, emotional abuse, manipulation, relationship drama, confused feelings, mentions of depression, kind of a sad chapter, lots of deep emotions. oh and also smut. (guys you arent ready) - also excuse any spelling errors.

enjoy :)

You didnt end up falling asleep until around 4am that night, Taehyung stayed up with you the entire time, making sure you were okay.

"its okay, lets just stay in bed" he hushed when you protested something about getting up and ready for the day.

"I want to shower" you sat up and looked over at him, dark circles under his eys, he looked....rough.

"then shower" he finally sat up as well, his face turning to you when his eyes shot wide. "oh"

Tilting your head, you looked back at him, "what?"

"you have a bruise" he gestured to his own jaw while looking at yours. your hand flew to cup your cheek, hiding it. "yeah I figured I would probably have a mark. Good thing for makeup, right?" you joke and pull the covers back, feet meeting the cold floor.

"you know we still have to talk about everything, right?"

You tensed up and turned on the ball of your heel to face him. "yeah....just give me a few, okay?"

he nodded, taking a breath as you scurried into the bathroom, door shutting loudly.

He wasn't mad at you, he was upset in the same sense you were upset at him for hitting kaito. However, when something bothers Taehyung, it bothers him deeply and fully. It was something you observed from a young age, the complete mental shutdown whenever something didn't go right for him, or there was a situation that made him upset in anyway. You cant remember the last time he has been like this.

After your shower, the aroma of bacon infiltrated your nose, leading your footsteps out to the kitchen. "what are you doing?" you asked quietly, wet hair dripping onto the tile below you.

"Im making breakfast?" he made an obvious gesture to the stove and fridge, making you roll your eyes. His attention was on the lavender camisole you changed into, as well as the fact you had used your makeup to hide last nights evidence.

"why do you have a tone with me" you leaned against the counter and crossed your arms. "I dont" he shrugged

"youre being snippy"

he laughed and turned back to the food, throwing some onto a plate with fruit and shoving it your way.

you took the plate and met his eyes with your own. "thanks. why are you moody?" you quickly pressured once again

"are you serious?" he whipped around to you

"what?"

"have you completely forgotten what has happened in the past 24 hours? or do you want me to catch you up?" he scoffed

"im fully aware" you glared at the boy

"then why are you acting like I dont have a reason to be upset?"

"you dont-" you paused, setting down the plate of food and looking at it. You allowed yourself to take a breath before looking out the window. The shitty weather captivated the shitty aura of the kitchen. "lets just eat breakfast then talk"

he looked at you before slowly turning back to his food, you returning to your room and shutting the door.

Now you were alone with your own thoughts to gather before having to face the situation. It wasnt that you were afraid to talk to taehyung. It would never be that, no. It was you were afraid to be honest with yourself.

You so desperately wanted to just bathe in what felt like love, what felt like a chance at a happy easy-going relationship. You wanted it so, so badly.

So badly- that you told everyone things were good when they werent. You knew this ship would sink soon enough, but not like this, not like that. You thought the bliss would at least last a little longer. Now you sat like an open exposed wound for everyone to examine and tell you how to fix it, when you already knew the problem wasn't fixable.

stitches couldn't hold together what you felt.

-

Once you both silently took your collective times apart in seperate rooms, you agreed to sit in the living room. The rain pattering onto the glass quietly as his record player was faintly heard in the other bedroom created a semi-comfy environment to be in.

"So..." Taehyung sat on the floor, in front of the tiny table, watching you cross your legs to sit on the opposite side of him, body scrunched up defensively.

You chewed your lip and looked at your hands, avoiding contact with the boy in front of you. "I'm sorry, for everything" you quickly decide on ripping the bandaid off as soon as possible, his eyes flicker to yours.

"I lied about so much and, its not fair to you. Youve been my best friend for so long and I dont like keeping secrets, theres been a strain between us for quite a bit now, and I dont know what to do"

He nodded as you spoke calmly, part of him elated and relieved that he didn't have to pry you open to the conversation.

"Kaito was an asshole, he is an asshole. I don't even know what it was that I saw in him."

"I would assume...that it wasnt the first time he had done something like this, put his hands on you, that it?" tae added in

You sighed and finally looked up to him, shrugging helplessly. There it was, your heart on the table in front of you both, you mine as well be honest because theres no going back anymore.

"theres been a few times. not to that extent but yeah"

He exhaled and ran his hand over his face, "why didnt you tell someone?"

"I couldnt" your voice was shaky now, eyes trailing to your wrist that still had marks on it from just a few weeks ago. It was embarrassing.

"what do you mean you couldnt? you just sat and fucking suffered?" his voice was a bit louder, hands now gripping his arms as they crossed over his chest.

"Its not that easy, taehyung! fuck, I, I just couldnt come out and tell everyone that I was going through that, and then be questioned why I stayed, and then further have to fucking explain that im incapable of feeling loved without someone loving me romantically." you wipe a tear, slight anger and frustration evident. "that shit is fucking humiliating" you shook your head.

He swallowed harshly and looked at you, scrambling of something to say.

"you dont get how hard it is to be in college, and having all your friends hookup and shit....I dont want that, I never wanted that. I cant, I attach myself too easily and-"

"that wasnt love, y/n"

"what?"

"you said you needed someone to love you romantically in order to feel genuinely loved? That man never loved you" he spat, knowing it sounded harsh but hoping his point came across in the directed manor. It was obvious; any person who could hurt their so called significant other with no regret is not someone worth the label of loving. You knew that.

"i was lying to myself"

"and everyone around you, too" he sighed, folding his arms out in front of himself.

"im sorry" you breathe, watching as he looked around softly.

"I wish you hadnt kept it a secret for so long, y/n, I know that you wanted everyone to see this fake image of what you wanted to be perceived as, but you know...its okay for things to not go as we plan, right?"

you shrug

"we are young, and frankly, we are stupid. Do I think I should have hit Kaito last night? no, it was wrong of me. Do I think he deserved it? yes, but thats not the point, the point is that sometimes you have to forgive yourself and accept yourself."

"what do you mean?"

"you have to learn to accept yourself for how you are, stop trying to create some fake fucking image for the rest of the world. who cares? You have so much going for you, who gives a shit if you dont have a perfect relationship? there are many people we know who are probably doing much worse" he chuckled lightly, making you nod.

"just be easier on yourself, I would never judge you. Faking shit is not worth getting hurt over." he added on, emotion and sadness now showing through his voice.

You nod once more, eyes filling up again, "okay"

He stood to his feet and walked over to sit beside you, using the opportunity to pull you into his warm embrace, sighing contently when you returned the hug.

"you have to just...let some things go." he whispered, "nothing has to be perfect" his hand gently rubbed your back. "sometimes what we want isn't what we get"

you sniffled and hid your face in his neck, pulling back to look into his eyes. "and what is it that you want?"

He smiled softly as he examined your face, so much thought in your head as your hands fidgeted. you

"you to be happy" he emphasized, squeezing your palm

"I want you to be happy too, taehyung. I should have never dragged you into this shit."

"Im happy when you are, and hey, we cant change whats happened. we need to just...move forward and hope for the best"

You quickly hugged him again, face tight against his chest as his head rested atop yours.

"Do you ever miss Gwangju?" you asked

Tae smiled and got lost in thought for a minute, "yeah...yeah I do" he whispered.

"we should have never moved here, Busan is nothing but trouble" you giggle softly, a sound that lifts weight off of taehyungs chest.

"we had good times there, huh?"

"I miss it so much, I miss everything about it."

"like what?" he asked gently, hand playing with your hair.

"Just how we would always be at eachothers houses, eating home made meals and biking through the streets. Just living normally, just being kids" you sigh, leaning into him

"we still can do all those things now, here, at the apartment" he spoke up quietly. You two are used to spending time close together, but schedules have been clashing, creating a difficult distance between you both.

"we cant" you chuckle breathily, pulling away and wiping your nose with a tissue.

"why not?" he pouted, a slight, hopeful smile on his lips.

You gave him a knowing glare, pressing your back against the couch as your hands fell into your lap. "well....isnt it obvious?"

"No, guess not" he tilted his head, genuinely confused.

"I think....over the summer..." you trailed off, eyes lost in some random object across the room as the boy next to you tried to catch on. "I think we made some mistakes"

"oh" he looked down, immediately understanding what was coming.

"and we never have spoke about it, and I think we should" you turn your body to him.

"I dont think thats necessary" he shook his head, bouncing his knee.

"you told me to be honest with you"

"I told you to be honest with yourself" he clarified, scoffing slighting.

He never wanted to fully confront the whole issue you both fell into almost a year ago, it was something that just happened. You both agreed to sleep together for a little while, it was mutual, nothing more nothing less. He had a hard enough time getting over his feelings and hopes he had for you, and he isnt ready to have this conversation. Not here, and not now.

"what if this is being honest with myself?" you spoke calmly, making his head lift up to you.

"what are you talking about?"

You looked at him and back down at your hands, "I dont know why we did all that, I dont know why we agreed to sleep together. Youve always been my best friend and I worry if I maybe ruined something-"

"no, no, you didnt." he stopped you quickly, "we both decided to do it, it was very much mutual. please dont think like that"

"but everything has been so off between us since then...." you pick at the fabric of the carpet.

"Yeah, I agree, but I dont think it has anything to do with that stuff"

"I do"

He looked at you and chewed on the inside of his cheek, feeling cornered.

"It wasnt like what we did was exactly bad, we had fun, we made rules, set boundaries, we jus- I mean, do you regret it that much?" he murmured quickly.

you stared at him for a moment, watching his chest rise with anticipation for your next words.

"I dont regret it at all...thats the problem" you quietly admit

Taehyung looks up, unsure if he heard you right. "im-im sorry?"

You shake your head, "I don't regret any of it, tae. I feel like we approached it, all of it, wrongly. I messed up a lot of things for myself, I cant seem to look at you the same anymore." you add.

Taehyungs heart was in his stomach, he pinched his thumb to make sure he wasnt having some dream. "so, you mean that..you dont regret doing what we did?"

"do you?" you counter.

"absolutely not" he exhaled.

you both looked at eachother quietly for what felt like forever.

"I feel like ive already embarrassed myself enough today but i'll just add to it I suppose" you start, taking his hand and looking at it. "when I say I miss the old us, it means I miss the time before I pretty much set myself up to fail....I guess I developed some feelings for you, which is entirely cliche, i know, but Ive been programming myself to get over it because I know that you and I wouldnt work" you admit

His eyes widen quickly, not sure what to do other than laugh, which makes you confused.

"what?" you semi-smile as he stands and catches his breath

"y/n...oh y/n" he kneels down to you, "if only you knew" he sighed

"knew what?" you panicked

"Ive felt the same way about you for the past few months and its been fucking eating me alive!!!" he openly speaks, making your eyebrows rise.

"you have no clue how hard its been to see you with Kaito, wishing it was me. you have no clue what its been like to live with you and see you look like that every day, its painful!" he laughs, feeling free in finally admitting what has been eating him alive for so long.

You find yourself breaking out into a smile, small giggles as your stomach flipped at his words. You wouldnt have pictured this happening, but here you were.

"I dont care if I look like a fool right now, you just.... you just made everything so much easier" he took a breath, smiling like crazy

"did I?" you smile widely, feeling elated that the outcome to this wasnt an embarrassing one.

"how could you ever think we wouldnt work?" he asked, holding your hands as he spoke more quietly now

you shrug, "I just didnt think you saw me that way"

"ah...." he sighed, "we should have known, we arent hookup people." he joked, making you laugh as you started at each other.

"I didnt think it was gonna be this simple...." you giggle, squeezing his hand, still shocked at how easy the coming clean was.

"we are fucking idiots" he smiles before pulling you closer

"yeah, we are" you whisper before pushing your lips to his suddenly, pulling back to see his reaction.

He blushed, pulling you back down to him and returning the kiss once more. It wasnt rushed, it was sweet, slow and meaningful.

Once you pulled back to catch your breath, you cupped his face lovingly, feeling like right now, there is nothing more you could possibly do to make yourself happier. "you know we will still have to further discuss this whole thing, yeah?" you whisper, thumb grazing his cheek.

"I know, I know." his hand falls on top of yours, "I want you to know that I care about you and Im serious about this, but I also dont want to rush things..."

"same here" you add

"but as of right now...I really wanna kiss you again." he spoke, making you laugh as the blood rushed up to your face. "do it all you want" you breathe out, returning his lips to yours as you moved yourselves up onto the couch, your legs coming around to straddle him.

He nearly choked, pulling away to wrap his hands on your waist. "maybe we should move to a more comfy spot?" he chuckled

you looked around before realizing you were about to bang it out with your friend on the living room couch. "yeah, okay, bedroom?" you stood, grabbing his hand as you both ran into the hall, escaping into your room like 2 horny teenagers in love.

It was ironic, actually. The first few times you two had sex, it felt mature, it felt like there was more to it, but it wasn't genuine. After today, things felt like they didn't need to be as put together, it was okay to just be....

-

The bed dipped as you crawled onto it, turning over to lay on your back as you watching Taehyung join you, his figure hanging over yours. "whats so funny?" you smile, hands climbing up his arms, wrapping around his neck as you pulled him closer.

"nothing" he chuckled, lips moving from your jaw to your neck, making you gasp quietly. "just...think its funny how we always end up back here"

Your hand was tangled in his hair, "mhm...like I said, we are idiots" you smile, closing your eyes blissfully as his tongue swipes down to your clavicle. "dont tease, I think we both have waited long enough"

"okay, okay" he winked at you jokingly before gently moving his hands to your tank top, lifting it carefully. You sat up slightly, wrapping an arm around to unclip your bra and toss it to the side.

There was no shyness with him when it came to being naked, it was the feeling of comfort, like you know he would never judge you or your body, and he never did.

"mmm" he hummed against your neck, lips kissing down to your breasts as his tongue slid across your nipple. "ah-" your head gently fell against the pillows behind you, biting your lip to try to contain any noises that attempted to escape.

"youre okay with this, yeah?" he looked up a bit to catch your expression, making sure you were alright.

"yes, im okay with it" you smiled and watched as the boy carefully returned to pressing his lips against your chest, gently sucking the skin on the side of your breast so he would leave a mark.

The arousal between your legs was hidden under your shorts, thighs rubbing together beneath him as you tried your best to just let go and not be so tense.

"can we take these off?" he looked back at you, fingers lightly holding onto the hem of your shorts.

"I personally find it unfair that Im naked and you still have all of this on" you gestured to his hoodie and sweatpants, making him laugh. Usually when you two were in this position, there was very little talking, and very little time spent on taking clothes off. Taehyung wanted it to be different right now though, he wanted to take all the time in the world, there was no rush here.

You sat up and pulled down your shorts, kicking them off from around your feet before directly moving to take off Taehyungs hoodie, placing it somewhere off the bed. His lips attached to yours, pushing you back into the bed. Something about kissing Taehyung was just different, you couldnt put a reason as to why, exactly, it just was. The comfort that was felt, the way he was messy but also passionate as his tongue danced against yours.

His long fingers delicately ran across your chest, making its way ever so lightly down your stomach, and to your thigh, causing you to shiver a bit. "Youre so beautiful" he whispered, teeth grazing your ear lobe as his words spilled into your system.

He would beat himself up if he ruined this, if he hurt you, if he made you feel like you were anything less than what you had become; treating you as if your skin was nothing more than the thinnest glass. He didnt want to just compliment you, he wanted you to feel how much he has yearned for this, for you to understand his regret in not being 'a man' and openly expressing his feelings within the first go around. For someone who knew your body almost as well as his own, he was so worried about breaking it.

His index finger hooked into the hem of your underwear, beginning to lightly pull them down your legs. The exposure felt familiar, it wasn't nerve wracking for you. The man above you was one you trusted with your body more than anyone.

"taehyung" you breathed out, slightly parting both of your thighs apart, the feeling of his breathing against your skin as he slowly kissed down to your navel, stopping right before your center.

He took one last look up at you, perhaps it was a moment of pride, or an ego boost over, but seeing how red your face had become even in the dimly lit room gave him a sense of accomplishment- and he wasn't even rightfully touching you yet.

Once his tongue pressed flatly against your core, your hand shakily flew to grab onto his hair. If you hadnt been so aroused in the bliss, you would have opened your eyes and looked down at the boy sitting between your thighs. You woke up this morning with a sore jaw, headache, and a bone to pick, now here you were getting eaten out in your bedroom with the boy who put you in this position in the first place.

"mmmh" you used your other hand to press over your lips, knowing that if you were too loud, your neighbors might have a few words to share with you. His tongue continued to poke at your clit slowly, a little too slowly. His arm came up to press down one of your thighs, keeping your entrance open for his access.

"youre soaked, holy shit" he laughed softly, moving back and wiping your wetness off of his jaw as he began to use two of his fingers to trace along your vagina. "baby, please" you whispered, hand trailing down to find his hand, locking it into your own.

You gasped at the sudden intrusion of his long fingers, pushing deep into your cunt and retracting slowly, only to repeat over and over again. You couldnt tell if you were blushing at just the simple action, or the lewd sounds filling the room, either way you were left breathless and squirming under his touch.

"this okay?" he smiled, still feeling his chest tighten at the given fact you called him 'baby'.

"yea- oh my god..." you arch your back slightly when he presses his tongue back to your neglected clit, kitty licking it just barley.

"ride my fingers, cmon baby" he egged you on, unable to help the smirk stuck on his face as he searched around for that one spot.

You had to admit, you were surprised at Taehyungs dialogue- he was never one to speak during sex in general, despite the occasional pet name. It shocked you, but at the same time only turned you on more.

Your hips rocked gently against his hand as he added a 3rd finger, making you whine loudly. "I feel so full, fu-fuck" you clenched around his digits, catching his smug face as he watched you fall apart.

The ends of his fingers curled perfectly, making you moan aloud, hand slapping over your mouth once more as you tried to shut your thighs. He seemed proud of himself for being able to find your g-spot, recognizing your behaviors and hardening his actions even more.

"Taehyung, please," you plead, rocking your hips as a faint layer of sweat builds up on the creases of your legs. "cmon baby, cum for me, its okay just let go" he spoke so gently, in such a tone that didnt match the situation playing out in front of him.

His fingers continued to prod at your sweet spot before he returned his tongue to your bundle of nerves, watching your chest rise and fall frantically. "im right here" he whispered- and that was just what you needed to come apart.

"ohhh" you clenched around him once more, arching your back as your vision went white, you could have sworn you went blind for a moment. "you okay?" he asked, pulling his fingers out and crawling back up to you, kissing your forehead. Your eyes flutter open to see him, complete admiration in your face as you take him in. "yeah...yeah im okay...that was-"

"good?" he giggled shyly, his behavior completely switching from what it once was just a mere few seconds ago.

"yeah.." you sighed, smiling. You felt like you were on cloud 9, but you still wanted more. You, somewhere deep down, feared this was a dream, and he would leave if you stopped.

Your hands ran down the front of his chest and down his stomach, biting your lip as you looked back at him, noses touching a bit as he leaned to kiss you once more.

It started as slow kisses, but the eagerness you had for eachother quickly took over. Your hands led to the hem of his sweatpants as you untied them, his mouth attacking your neck roughly, panting.

"baby-" you whimpered, trying to push him back so you could take off his pants easier. He smiled at you and leaned back, untying them himself as he moved and slid them off along with his boxers.

You watched as his erection sprung out, eyes immediately drawn to the red tip leaking with pre-cum. You had to admit, you almost moaned just looking at it.

He caught your gaze as his hand began to stroke himself a few times, moving back above you. He blushed and tried to return to hiding his face as he kissed your jaw. "dont be shy now, its too late to be hiding" you teased, hands wrapping around him and gently grazing his back, pulling him down.

"you want this?" he asked once more, eyes looking into yours.

"I do, do you?"

"of course" he nodded, kissing you once more before bringing his dick to your center, sliding his tip up and down your folds slowly, making you lift your hips up in search of more friction.

You hid your face against his shoulder as he pressed himself into you, eyes checking and making sure you were okay while doing so. Once he bottomed out, he moved both of his forearms on either side of you, face against yours as he pressed his lips all over your face, peppering you in kisses. "are you okay, angel?"

You squeezed your eyes together until he was all the way in, it obviously wasn't your first time, but it definitely had been a long enough period of time since the last time you have had sex, so the feeling was a bit abnormal. You exhaled and opened your eyes faintly, "yeah im okay" you pressed your lips to his, feeling more comfortable as he made sure you felt okay enough before moving. "you can move now" you pushed his hair out of his face and cupped his cheeks, looking into his eyes as he began to move his hips, slowly pulling out only to push back in.

The first few strokes were not that pleasurable, so you wiggled your butt to allow him to access deeper into you, shifting the placement. He groaned quietly as he pushed back in, hands now gripping your hips.

"ahh, fuck" you whispered, pushing your head back into the pillow as you began to feel more pleasure between your legs, his dick reaching spots his or your fingers never could. "feel good?" he asked, fighting back his own moan as you clenched around him so deliciously, he had to go slow or he would cum right there and then.

"so fucking good" you grazed your hand down the side of his face as you whined, your arousal speaking for you as the wet sound became more audible the faster he pumped into you. "missed this, missed you" you admit, eyes squeezing shut once more

"missed you so fucking much" he groaned, crashing his lips against yours as he lifted himself carefully. "More please" you whisper shyly, feeling a tightness in your stomach that yearned to be released.

He sat back and gently gripped your thighs, spreading them further apart s you were exposed entirely. He took in your fucked out state before beginning to thrust into you once more, this time with a quickened pace.

He mumbled your name as he threw his head back, skin slapping against yours as your moans filled the room. "yes, yes" you encouraged him, bucking your hips up to meet him in between each time he pushed further into you.

He urged you to lift your hips as he put a pillow under your lower back, something he always did to ensure he reached your g-spot.

You gasped and clutched the blanket, whimpering as he continued to thrust into you. "right there!"

The headboard of your bed was clashing against the wall, creating a loud sound. You tried to reach over to hold it but couldnt, "tae, the neighbors, fuck, its too lou- oh!" you could barley finish a sentance, his dick fucking you just right as you felt yourself becoming dumb at his actions.

"I dont care, let them hear" he spoke forcefully, hands squeezing into your thighs as he held them up. "let them know how good you feel"

You clenched upon hearing his words, for someone who never did dirty talk, he sure fucking knew what to say.

You whined and gripped your chest as he pulled out, once again gliding his tip down your folds and to your clit. "so fucking perfect for me, baby" he whispered, pushing back in and making you moan louder at his sudden action.

"tell me-" Taehyung began, setting a pace as he thrusted into you, "did her ever touch you like this? did he ever make you feel this good?" he groaned, eyes trailing down your sweaty body squirming beneath him.

Your face grew red as you shook your head frantically, "no- no he didnt" you admit, whimpering as you began to feel a build up.

"good" he leaned forward, his dick angling just right as he got close to your face, "dont ever let anyone touch you like this" he warned, his possessiveness something entirely new to you.

"mhm, n-never" you manage to spit, nails digging into his shoulders and back. "baby im so close" you cried, sneaking a hand down to between your bodies, fingers rubbing at your clit as his mouth reached down to your breast, tongue prodding at your hardened nipple.

"me too" he breathed out, lifting your thigh higher as he fucked into you more, "fuck im gonna cum, where do you want it?" he exhaled

Your hands gripped him harder, barley managing to speak, "i-inside" you whimper, feeling your orgasm suddenly wash over you the same time his did. Your mouth fell open softly as you arched into the bed. You werent sure how loud you both were, but you knew that it was probably one of the best orgasms of your life.

"so good for me, y/n, always so fucking good" he gently pulled out, watching his semen spill out of you and onto the bedsheets. You pulled him back up to lay on top of you, the room silent, filled with heavy breathing. your hands delicately played with his hair, eyes shutting as his head rested on your chest.

You both werent sure how exactly this happened, or if it even should have happened, but it was something to worry about later. All of these months, harboring feelings and keeping secrets- it didnt mean anything anymore. You felt safe, comforted here with taehyung, and as you both silently spoke and praised eachother before drifting off to sleep, you hope he did too.

a/n- WELL THEN.

taglist-

@turnthepageandbeburnt @taebangtanbabe @borahaexoxo @lelefoodlover @tan-veee

[mads-writes-vibes]

Nervous (Jess Mariano x Gilmore!reader)

Chapter 1

Third POV

Y/N and Rory were walking with Lane on the way to meet their mother for their daily morning coffee at Luke's. Y/N was reading her copy of Sense and Sensibility while Rory and Lane were talking about how great of a boyfriend Dean is.

"He's just so cute and understanding. It's like we're Romeo and Juliet." Rory said while smiling at Lane. Y/N scoffed at her sister's statement. "Do i have to remind you that-" "They both die in the end, we know. How did your sister end up so dark and depressing?" Lane asked Rory while studying Y/N's unwavering attention to her book.

"I honestly have no idea." Rory turned to her sister. "What did me and mom do to mess you up so bad?" "Nothing. I just don't understand the whole love thing" Y/N said finally looking up at her sister while shrugging her shoulders. "Maybe I just don't want to end up like mom." She stated while going back to reading her book. "With two semi-wonderful daughters?" Rory asked.

"Alone." Y/N said as they opened the doors to Luke's "Y/N-" Rory got cut off by her mom mocking Luke while following him around the diner. "Hey. It's my two annoying girls." Lorelai said while looking at Luke and pointing at her daughters. The three girls took seats at the counter when Y/N looked up at her mom. "Excuse me? We are elegant and graceful, thank you very much."

Y/N put her stuff down and went behind the counter to grab her apron and start working. Luke had her running coffee today so she was able to listen in on the interesting conversation happening. "Luke has a kid." Lorelai stated while laughing at Luke's disapproving face. "I do not have a kid. My nephew is coming to stay with me." Luke corrected her. "I'm sorry, what?" Rory asked Luke while Y/N put the coffee pot down and leaned on the counter on her elbows.

'My delightful sister is dropping off her son in my care. Somehow she thinks I am going to turn him around." "Well she has high hopes." Y/N said while opening up her book again to continue reading. Luke gave her an annoyed look while Lorelai, Rory and Lane all started giggling. "Austen, right?" A random voice asked. Y/N looked up at the random voice and saw a handsome guy standing inside Luke's.

"Yes it is. And you are?" Y/N asked looking at the stranger. 'Jess. This is my nephew Jess. Jess, this is Y/N, Rory, Lorelai and Lane. You're late." Luke said, looking annoyed while walking towards his nephew to grab his bag. Jess rolled his eyes at his uncle and looked at Y/N while he was walking to the curtain to go upstairs. "Y/N." Jess said and winked at her right before he turned around and went upstairs to start unpacking.

Y/N was confused about the butterflies she felt swarming in her stomach. Was this love? No, it can't be. She just meet him and now she can't stop thinking about him. What is going on? Has hell frozen over? All of these thoughts swarmed Y/N's mind while everyone was looking at her to see any sign of life. Y/N shook her head and went back to taking orders and pouring coffee.

"Is that how i looked when i first saw Dean?" Rory asked her mom and Lane while thinking about her boyfriend. "Yes it is" Lorelai said. Y/N turned around and glared at her mom and sister. Y/N could hear them whispering as she turned back around and continued reading her book. What is happening?

Author's Note: Here is the first chapter of Nervous. My original plan was to have a kind of similar love story of Jess and Rory where we was constantly trying to fight for her affection and have y/n be stubborn and "hard-to-get" but I've decided to change it up a little bit as I'm currently swamped with new ideas. Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series.

[popjunkie42]

Hate Me Instead - Chapter 9

Chapter 9 is up! I was on vacation and ended up not writing at all, so apologies for the slight delay.

This is the second-to-last chapter, and a short one. I promise Chapter 10 will be quite substantial. I'm working on it now and it might take a bit longer to post but I plan to finish by the end of the month.

Question: do you all prefer to read chapters on Tumblr or AO3? I've been posting snippets with a link but let me know if if preferences are strong one way or the other.

Hate Me Instead - Chapter 9, 'Night and Day'

Read the work on AO3

Summary: Feyre deals with her nightmare and feelings about their night together. Rhys offers tea.

Warning: Some depressive suicidal ideation similar to ACOMAF

Snippet:

Feyre didn’t rise that morning. But I knew she wasn’t sleeping.

I had begun to feel the void within her like a physical mass. I could sense it swirling in her room, with her body at the center.

I waited until two hours after breakfast and then I couldn’t take it anymore. I put together a tray from the table, with all the things I had seen her spear onto her plate before and some steaming hot tea. An adequate excuse, I convinced myself.

A light knock on her door got me no answer, but I was determined. I let myself in and slowly walked to the bed in the empty room.

It took me a moment to find Feyre there, swaddled under the blankets as she was. She was curled up on her side, holding a pillow, almost buried entirely under the blankets. Her eyes were closed, puffy, but I could tell by her breathing she wasn’t asleep.

“I thought you might want some breakfast,” I offered, placing the tray on the side table.

Her eyes barely opened to slits. “Thanks,” she mumbled against the pillow. She closed them again.

If it was a dismissal, I decided it wouldn’t work. I wasn’t going anywhere. I gently crawled into bed beside her, her back facing me, moving slow as not to disturb her. I rested my back against the headboard and watched her.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I offered with a whisper.

She shook her head.

Of course she didn’t want to talk about it, with me. For a moment I recalled the flash of primal fear from her dream, of Tamlin’s shining teeth and claws and the agitated flicker of his tail before he attacked.

For me, last night had been…well. Fresh as her scent was on my skin, on my sheets, I didn’t know if there were adequate words within me. It would be a time I would lock away in my heart forever. To keep me going just one day longer.

For Feyre, last night was now steeped in betrayal. Her dream had been enough to show me, without looking into her mind now, her shields in tatters.

And it was because of me. Now I had the pleasure of not only witnessing her dark moments but rather being the cause of them. For something I had wanted, something I would treasure. So here I was again, standing on the precipice of Feyre’s despair, coaxing her back, while being a part of the same nightmare that had sent her there.

Monster.

Listening to her soft breaths filling the stillness of the room, I thought: at least I haven’t made her fear my claws. Tamlin was taking, too. He saw her as well, the jutting bones, the dark circles under her eyes. But I wouldn’t leave her. I wouldn’t walk away.

How often was she like this, I wondered? How many days had she spent like this in the Spring Court? Did Tamlin ever sit beside her, hold her? I had plenty of glimpses of her alone in the bathroom, puking up her guts while he slept soundly, or worse, ignored her, behind her in bed. While I watched her, heart breaking, miles away in the Night Court.

How could he sit by and let this happen?

But I didn’t know what she needed, either. Clearly pushing her to anger or annoyance wasn’t the strategy now, with her prone and breathing softly. I gently laid a hand on her back, willing her not to fade away.

After a long while, eyes still shut, she spoke again. Without my fae hearing I don’t know that I would have even heard her whisper into the pillow.

“You don’t have to be here. It’s not your fault.”

“I want to be here. I’m not going anywhere.” I assured her. And I thought maybe she wanted me gone, and didn’t have the energy to even say it.

Maybe I should just let her be. But my heart was beating with terror, and I wouldn’t leave her alone just to fear what would be waiting for me when I finally got the nerve to return.

Another long stretch of silence. 

“When I got back from the war,” I offered, “when we all got back…we were…different. It had been seven years of bloodshed, of cruelty and death. Sometimes I felt like I couldn’t even remember who I was, before. How to go back to life without a sword in my hand. To understand who I could become, what I could do, in…circumstances such as that. At war.” I began running my hand up and down her spine in long, soothing strokes. 

“It took a long time. And sometimes it still hurts, even centuries later. But my family, we worked. And we cried and talked and healed and lived. And eventually there were more good days than bad days. I remember sitting one day by the ocean, watching the sun set over the water, and it was just so beautiful. And I was filled with it, felt joy from it.  And I knew I had made it out to the other side.”

Silence. And then,

“I‘ve never seen the ocean,” she said, flat.

“I’ll take you some day. Any time you like.”

It was like I could feel the thought eddy in her mind, only for it to slip into the whirlpool of her despair. Just like that, it was gone.

“It’s okay to be like this sometimes, Feyre. To be sad, to mourn. We went through something terrible. But you can also talk about it. You can face it and come through, now. You can lean on others to help carry the burden.”

“I don’t have anyone. Tam…with, him,” she said, “neither of us want to talk about it. Ever.”

I waited a beat. She had to know.

“You have me,” I offered quietly.

“That’s…it’s complicated,” she huffed.

“It doesn’t have to be. If you need me, I’m here. I’ll listen. Or talk. Or push you, or help you. Whatever you need, whenever you need it. I’m here.”

Read the rest on AO3

[spinningwebsandtales]

The Shape of You Pt. 7

Michael Myers X FemReader

Rating: T+

Warnings: Panic attacks, reader is struggling with anxiety and depression, reader gets sick from not taking care of herself

Word Count: 6.1k

Pt 1  Pt 2  Pt 3  Pt 4  Pt 5  Pt 6

Taglist: @the-marshals-wife @msghostface @izumima @cavern-creature​@101killer @scooby-the-soviet-soldier​

(A/N:) Hello lovely readers! I am SO SO SO sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out! I struggled with this chapter. I know where I’m going with this story and we’re making headway to the end but this one I had to figure out where I wanted this chapter to go and I had to take my time to come up with the ideas. It took me a month before an idea popped in my head but I still struggled with getting it wrote. Plus life happens! I hope to get the next chapter out a lot sooner and again I’m so sorry to all my readers that have been waiting so patiently! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

Weeks passed by after the incident at work and everything seemed to go back to normal, except for you. The world kept turning and time kept moving but you found yourself stuck in that one horrifying moment. You hid the turmoil well at work and tried to keep it from Michael, but he knew something was wrong. You were retreating more times than opening up to him. If he touched you without you seeing, your immediate reaction was to flinch away. Afterwords you hid the fact that you flinched by giving him a fake smile, shrugging it off with some excuse. You rearranged everything in your office to face towards the door, so you could see everyone who came and went. You didn’t seek out male coworkers now and sent Julie to take care of things now, instead of going yourself. You hated to do your work best friend that way but you just couldn’t bring yourself to be alone with anyone yet, especially men though they never did anything to you. 

You felt silly and worthless as you jumped at shadows, worried about somebody following you, and the worst was the nightmares. You hadn’t had a good nights sleep in so long and it was beginning to show as the bags under your eyes grew darker. Michael worried about you severely as he tried his best to comfort you in whatever way you needed. It broke his heart every time you shied away or just a simple touch made you jerk and cower. He was beginning to grow livid as the days passed by, not towards you but towards the man that had brought this misery upon you. He had finally gotten you to open up to him after he screwed up only to have another problem to build a wall between you two. It had become an unspoken agreement as Michael made sure you could see it was him before he made any contact. He started to ask you before giving you hugs and he stopped kissing you suddenly. When you woke him up by thrashing around because of another nightmare, it was his presence alone that could calm you down. Michael wouldn’t go back to sleep after the really bad attacks, wanting to watch out for you and give you any comfort you needed. He also started giving you his shirt before you both laid down for bed. He knew his scent could calm you through any storms that arose and it had become an unspoken agreement. Before you hit the pillow he was stripping his shirt off and handing it to you. You always wordlessly took it from him before tugging it over your head. You always melted immediately at the warmth of the fabric and his familiar smell penetrating your senses. Knowing he was close and he still loved you made you fall into a dreamless slumber quickly. Though those bad nights still did come and you sweat and squirm before jolting awake. 

You never thought a man could ruin your life and the safety you had always felt so easily, but here you are fearful and paranoid daily. You always felt eyes upon you and his harsh grasp, his cruel words bouncing around in your mind like a run away bouncy ball. The sea of your mind was in constant turmoil and it was taking everything Michael had to penetrate the violent waves. It broke his heart when he had come into your extra room to watch you work, your mind deep in thought. You had screamed shrilly when you noticed he was looking over your shoulder and the work you had been so focused on ruined. You had to start again and he felt so guilty, he was beginning to wonder if he was good enough for you at all. He didn’t want to voice these fears to you, cause he knew as soon as the words left his lips you would feel responsible for making him feel that way. When in actuality it was neither of your faults. It was one man who didn’t have the common decency to take the word no for an answer and attack what couldn’t be his. Michael still had a rage deep inside that made him want to abandon this life he had come to care for so much. Deep down the beast wanted to rampage, to bring his own version of justice to the man who had brought this upon you. But he couldn’t leave you at this moment. You needed him now more than ever and he didn’t care how long it took or how much he had to work, he was going to get you through this. You would heal in time and become the woman he had grown to adore. Not that he didn’t love you now as you were, but he couldn’t take seeing you broken.

 It pained him greatly and he wanted you to come back and see how good of a life you lived with him. Michael wouldn’t be here in this moment if it hadn’t been for you, to take that risky chance. To look beyond the monster he had been painted to be and see that deep down there was a man that needed help. You were the light in his storm and you brought a difference out of him that even he didn’t believe existed. He had been poked, prodded, brainwashed in to thinking that he wasn’t worth anything. But you saw that diamond lying within the coal and you nurtured it and made it shine brighter than it ever had. Now it was Michael’s turn to step in and bring your shine back. You were tarnished with fear and no amount of pushing and forcing would bring that special shine back. He had to learn something he never had, patience and preserver through his frustrations. You needed him now, more than he needed you and there was no way he was going to abandon you. He would take one step at a time and be there until once again you were more than ready to step out again and be the person you usually are.

The weekend came again and you let yourself sleep in. Michael’s side was empty and long cold when you woke up and it made your heart sink. But the feel of his shirt against your skin brought back a little warmth. He was taking such good care of you, you couldn’t help but feel guilty that you were neglecting him and his needs. This whole thing had never been about him nursing you. You had wanted to show him that the world and people weren’t so bad, to show him that he was more than what everyone said he was and you were beginning to succeed, but now you were the one backtracking. You were the one messed up and now Michael had a good example that of course the human race basically sucked at times. Especially the one human that brought this all on. You shivered diving deeper in the blankets as you couldn’t help but feel that this whole ordeal was far from over. You had tried to be brave and show everyone that what had happened, didn’t you bother like you wanted it to. But that was far from the truth as you found yourself sinking in the depths of fear. Enough that you had nightmares, you found it hard to be at work alone in your office, and just the contact Michael longed for had you stiffening in panic. 

Michael had gotten good at knowing when panic attacks were starting to set in and he made sure he was distant enough to keep you comfortable but still made sure his presence was around. You looked up at the ceiling, wanting to stay in bed all day but you knew you couldn’t neglect the day. You felt the need to be at least a little productive. You had been wanting to work on your recent project that laid abandoned in amongst your art supplies. You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for whatever the day would hold. Michael was being really quiet, most likely letting you sleep as long as you could and it warmed your heart. You began to seek him out as you wanted to see him. Guilt still nagged at your being as you felt fine being the one to initiate contact with him, but your mind wouldn’t let you be okay with him being the one to initiate anything. Despite the fear and worries you did feel anger towards Ian for ruining everything. Life had been so perfect as your home life had become everything you could have hoped it would be. Then one horrible moment in life and everything shattered. Your hands shook as you looked for Michael. 

He’d been busy this morning as you noticed the laundry you did last night was folded, the TV already on but turned down low so it wouldn’t disturb you, and the smells of something cooking wafting from the kitchen. You found Michael there, standing at the stove with a spatula in hand. It was funny to you how he could stand so still without humming or moving, though it probably hadn’t been so funny to others that he had preyed upon. The thought made you shiver but that was a time long ago. Though you had seen The Shape personally most recently you still couldn’t help but feel safe in your own home. Well you used to and despite the new anxiety that had taken control you still felt like your home was your haven. It was getting harder to leave and while your boss understood that you were having to work some things out after everything that happened, you couldn’t take the time off you needed. The office was so understaffed and with no new applications coming in, you completely understood that they needed you. Though you knew you were making mistakes you normally wouldn’t and were having a hard time concentrating. It felt good to be needed though and that your job was safe as long as you kept showing up to work. You breathed deeply, trying to gear yourself up to face another day when Michael turned around. He had heard you walking down the hallway but in true fashion he remained focused on the task at hand. He also didn’t want to go searching for you as he was worried it would make you feel uncomfortable.

 He had been trying to get in the habit of letting you come find him, as it made you more at ease. He missed being able to pull you in for hugs and he really missed kissing you like he used to. That was the hardest part for him as he had been denied any form of human comfort for years. It set his teeth on edge, but for you he would take it. He had to as there was no choice. His heart sunk seeing you standing in the doorway, his shirt rumpled from sleep and your hair sticking up. Normally he would find it adorable and would take his emotions out on you. But the only reason it saddened him was he could see the bags under your eyes, your skin was pale, your eyes normally bright and cheerful were lack luster, and you never stood with the confidence you used to have.

“Morning,” you mumbled giving him a wobbly smile.

Michael nodded back, he had gone back a little into his old ways so he didn’t talk as often. While you had started not to talk much at all you still talked more than he did. It was awkward trying to make conversation now as you forced yourself to talk. You didn’t want either of you to back slide but it was becoming difficult the more time passed and you made no progress. Wordlessly you sat at the table, waiting for the silence to break or maybe the sudden urge to talk would come. Michael finished up cooking, scooping scrambled eggs onto the two plates he removed from the cabinet. Still without a sound he set your plate before you, before taking a seat at the other end of the table. Your lip wobbled as you fought the urge to cry. Nothing seemed appetizing anymore and you barely cooked now. Michael had stepped up making simple things he had learned from you, but it felt like you were taking advantage of him. Since you weren’t feeding him and whatever he cooked you barely touched. You scooped up a small bite, still fighting the urge to burst into tears, before chewing slowly. It felt like chalk in your mouth and the flavors that were normally there were no where to be found. Michael didn’t try to speak, wanting you to focus more on eating. He was worrying more and more about you as more weight fell off you. Ever since he had met you, he knew you had a healthy appetite and he didn’t want that to go away. Before, food was nothing to him, until you had shared your meals with him and then he realized how much you could connect with someone over one simple dish. Now he watched you chew and swallow like he had placed gravel in front of you. It didn’t take long until you were pushing the plate away and standing up from the table.

“I’m not that hungry,” you choked fighting back tears. “I think I’ll go lay down a little longer I don’t feel so good.”

Michael just nodded and a few tears slipped free from your barricade. You fled quickly not wanting him to see you cry or break down once again.

You shut the door quickly and flung yourself into the pillows where your sobs were muffled and began to soak your tears. You were sick of feeling this way, sick of being such a bother to him, and sick of not being able to pick yourself up. Your world was crumbling and no matter how many times you tried to piece it back together it just fell back apart. You were lost, trying to find your way. But it felt like being lost in a darkened woods with no light and you couldn’t even begin to see the stars because the trees keep blocking everything. It didn’t take long until you fell back into a fitful sleep, exhaustion dragging you under but you still couldn’t rest. Your mind a constant battlefield that wouldn’t leave even during the peaceful moments of the night. You whimpered and cried as nightmares continued to plague your unconsciousness. Michael had quietly checked on you at one point in the afternoon, but you had yet to wake up and he didn’t want to bother you. His fear of making you feel worse keeping him from even trying to talk or soothe you. You sweated profusely as you tossed and turned.

 You woke once more and could see that it was night time, you spent all your day trying to sleep and nothing else. Michael’s side wasn’t occupied as he never came to bed. The clock was reading midnight and he didn’t stay up late much anymore. You should feel hungry, you should feel rested but you felt none of those things. Quietly getting up you went to go find Michael to see him sleeping on the couch. It shouldn’t bother you as much as it did, because he could sleep wherever he wanted, but you couldn’t help but feel like it was your fault that he didn’t feel comfortable enough around you to sleep in the same bed like you both had been. Defeated you went back to bed to cry more as the bed now felt too big, too lonely, and too cold. You longed for the heat of Michael’s body against yours and the comforting pressure of his arms wrapped around you. But those were gone as your mind could no longer take comfort from those things. It always felt like Ian trapping you against your will, that he was trying to take advantage of you once more. So you cried and wallowed in the pit of despair you had created until once more you fell into restless slumber. 

Your dreams haunted you as you felt hands grasping you tightly. The pressure leaving bruises in your skin as they held you down. You couldn’t see for the darkness beginning to swallow you as the hands pulled you down. You couldn’t escape no matter how hard you tried. You could feel your skin become clammy and everything felt hot. You tried to scream but your throat was raw and your tongue so dry. You had no energy and you could barely move your head as the black continued to swallow you. Your chest heaved, the panic becoming too much. You tried to suck in air to calm yourself and fight off your attackers holding you down but it was still all in vain.

You jolted awake thrashing violently as the terror still had a tight grip on you. Tears were soaked in the pillows and you could see a shadow above you. You tried screaming like in your dream, but your mouth was so dry and you couldn’t get enough air to scream. Hands had you pinned to the bed keeping you from lashing out and you refused to calm down at all.

“It’s me,” Michael’s voice penetrated the darkness and you immediately calmed though you were still stiff. Everything felt hot, his shirt you wore soaked with sweat, and your vision hazy.

“What’s wrong with me,” you cried out holding onto the drenched blankets beneath you.

“You’re sick,” Michael replied. “You have a fever and I can’t get it to go down.”

While Michael didn’t know much about nursing someone back to health, he couldn’t just stand on the sidelines while you suffered more. Your lack of eating, sleeping, and the tumult emotions had brought your system down enough that your immune system can’t keep up with the demand your body needs.

  “What can I do,” he asked while finally letting you go. Once his hands were off, you couldn’t help but realize how weak you actually were. All this had finally caught up with you and you were suffering more.

“There’s medicine in the bathroom cabinet,” you panted. “And I need a wet rag for my forehead. Something cool and fever reducer will bring my fever down. Michael I’m so sorry I’m being such a burden.”

“Quiet you’re not a burden but we have to get you better,” he chanced it and kissed your forehead. You flinched but stayed still, letting his love and care surround you. “Go back to sleep and I’ll get everything you need.”

Closing your eyes you watched Michael’s retreating back before drifting back into the darkness. Michael raided the cabinets trying to find everything you could possibly need. He only found one packet of medicine that was a fever reducer, but there was only one left and no other boxes remained. He even checked the other cabinets just to be sure, only to come up empty. You were in no shape to leave the house so he knew it was going to be up to him to go out and get whatever you needed. Wetting a rag and making it back into the bedroom, he placed the cool cloth on your fevered skin before going to get a glass of water. He jostled you gently waking you back up, your eyes were glazed over and your breathing was still shallow and quick. You swallowed the pill he offered without question before going back to sleep. Michael watched you for a moment stroking the sweat soaked hair from your cheeks until he felt comfortable to leave you alone.

He didn’t know how going into town was going to go for him. Yeah on his nightly excursions on Halloween he had been wearing a mask, but the authorities would know exactly what he looked like. It made him anxious, but it made him feel worse when he thought of you laying in bed with no medicine in the house to help you through this sickness you were facing. Michael resolved himself, he couldn’t just let you go through this on your own. You had brought him from his darkness and it was time for him to return the favor. Even if things never went back to they were beforehand, he would still love you no matter what. Grabbing a baseball cap and some sunglasses Michael dressed similar to how you would, when you left the house to run errands in Haddonfield. Dressed in jeans and a simple shirt he hid his features as best he could with the hat tipped low and sunglasses to hide his eyes. He was nervous as he didn’t want to be caught and leave you alone with no one to look after you. He also had to contend with your nosy neighbors who had the tendency to pry in your life. Several times while he lived with you he had to hide during the visits and them coming by to question you why you weren’t leaving your home as often. You just gave them vague answers, trying to keep yourself from lying right out, but most of the time you just had to anyway as they continued to pry. 

Michael sucked in a deep breath, opening the door and checking the surroundings. He hadn’t been out since he came here, that was the one thing you didn’t want him to do at all, in fear of watching them take him away. And he heeded those rules as he didn’t want to drag you down with him as his accomplice. With no person in sight he quickly made his way to the car before anyone could get a good look. He started up your car and backed out of the driveway. He had learned to drive from watching the doctors as they transported him back and forth and it didn’t take much for him to get good at driving. Traffic wasn’t bad for a early Sunday morning, he hoped that the city wasn’t stirring just yet. He wanted to make it back home quickly before the streets were packed with shoppers or families looking to enjoy some family time in town. The drug store came into view and Michael parked the car, getting out, and locking the door. He pulled the cap down more as he was getting more nervous the longer he was outside. He wished for the cover of nightfall but with the drugstore being family owned, they didn’t stay open all the time. He was fortunate that they were open on a Sunday anyway. The lady behind the counter greeted him, before doing a double take at his massive build and shadowy features. She suddenly got nervous as he stepped to the counter, his shadow overtaking her and most of the small counter.

“M-may I help you,” the older woman stuttered. She didn’t know what it was about her customer but the fear was shaking her to the core.

“My girlfriend is sick,” Michael answered in a low voice. “I don’t know what medicines will help her the most. Can you help me?”

“O-of course,” she answered before leaving the safety of her counter.

Michael listened intently as she lead him to the cold medicine aisle. He became overwhelmed at all the options and different medicines for all sorts of ailments. He explained carefully all your symptoms to the woman as she began to grab everything you could possibly need. Soon Michael had his arms full of fever reducers, cold compresses, and melatonin to help you sleep. As she rang him up, the lady was still giving advice that could help in any possible way. Michael fought back the chuckle that the woman who had been terrified of him when he walked in, was suddenly very comfortable. She wouldn’t be feeling the same way about him if she knew he was The Shape of Haddonfield. The Michael Myers was standing right before her in her own store and she had no idea. Michael felt odd as he experienced another different source of normalcy as he was trying to do anything he could for you. With hat still tucked low and sunglasses on his face he thanked her quickly and left. Going back to the car he tossed the bag into the passenger seat and headed to his next stop.

While he really wanted to go back home, instead of pushing his luck, the lady had suggested different soups and fluids for you to drink. Michael didn’t go completely into detail on why you had gotten sick, he did explain the bare minimum on your lack of nutrition here lately. So instead of home, his next stop would have to be the local grocery store. This was where Michael’s nervousness exploded as it was much more busy than the little drug store he had just visited. Cars filled the parking lot and people of all shapes and sizes walked to and from the building. While his nightly terrors had been done with a mask on, there was people who knew his face. Specifically the local law enforcement and a few other people. Tugging his cap down lower, Michael left the safety of the car. Like they could sense his foul deeds, the populace of Haddonfield that were grocery shopping steered clear of the large man who made his way to the grocery store entrance. The sight of all the aisles overwhelmed Michael for a moment, along with the large amount of people swarming the checkout counters and different sections. If he couldn’t face his unease for you, he had no right to help or ask you to face yours for him. 

Sucking in a deep breath, he grabbed a hand held basket and started his search for the few things he needed. So far he had only ran into one person and they quickly apologized before racing away to safety. Michael was more careful as the made his way through every aisle until he finally found one thing he had been searching for. Before he could escape to go find the other items a couple older ladies stopped him to see if he would reach something on the top shelf for them. After hesitating and unsure if he should speak, Michael merely nodded and grabbed what they asked for. After thanking him and cooing over the ‘nice and tall young gentleman’ Michael quickly retreated. You were worth it and he would do this all over again, but if he didn’t get out of here soon and get back to your side he was going to lose it. He had come much too far to let himself be caught trying to buy soup and juice in a grocery store. Michael couldn’t help but chuckle quietly at the thought of the headline in the newspaper. ‘The Shape Caught Grocery Shopping.’ The thought of your tears at him being taken away made Michael sober quickly and he finished the last errand quickly. 

His knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel hard. He needed to check on you and get the supplies inside, so he could buckle down and get you back on your feet. You needed to eat, you definitely needed to sleep, and you really needed these medicines rustling around in the paper bag. Home was not too far away and Michael could tell more people were stirring in the neighborhood. It was going to make getting inside more difficult than when he left that morning. He hoped you were still asleep, blissfully unaware that he had left and gone out into town. He could just imagine your reaction when he finally told you. Which you would probably figure out pretty quickly as you kept up with whatever was in the cabinets in both the kitchen and bathroom. The only reason you had ran out of medicine is it wasn’t that time of year that you normally got sick. Michael didn’t mind going and getting whatever you needed, he enjoyed getting out to an extent but he didn’t want to worry you and make you feel even worse. Pulling in he didn’t see your closest neighbors around yet. 

He knew they had to be awake but he wanted to make it inside before someone could walk out and see him going into the house. Grabbing everything quickly for one trip, Michael pulled the keys from the ignition and walked quickly to the door. He didn’t want to run as it would only bring attention, he was never much of a runner anyway. He opened the door dropping the bags on the floor and closing the door quickly upon any curious eyes that would become suspicious. He even stood there for a minute watching out the top glass on the door, to make sure nobody left their homes to investigate the strange man that just entered your home. He knew that several people at work knew you were dating, but you kept the bigger details from them. Only giving them bits and pieces to satisfy their curiosities.

  “Michael,” your hoarse voice called. “Michael.”

He ran up the stairs to see that you were still asleep though you were calling out to him in your feverish dream. Sweat still coated your forehead, as your temperature was staying the same. Michael recalled everything the woman at the drugstore said so before he woke you, he began to get everything around. But before he left he placed a cooling compress on your forehead to replace the now hot washrag he had placed before leaving.

Filling a glass full of ice and water and another one with cold juice, Michael grabbed several pill boxes off the table and brought them back into your room. With the compress now pulling some of the heat away, you were sleeping more restfully, it made Michael hate to wake you up. Lack of sleep hadn’t helped with your body as it was one of the main reasons you wound up in this situation. You needed more medicine though to help you kick this illness and get better faster. Michael gently gripped your shoulder, shaking you and calling out to you.

You felt yourself drowning in darkness, the feeling of somebody dragging you down further and further away from the light. You felt severe aches and chills as the hands gripped you tighter. Then you were burning as you struggled to breathe. You tried screaming out, to call for Michael but silence only came out. You began to panic, until a hand grasped your wrist in the dark depths, pulling you quickly towards you light you were struggling so hard to get to. Suddenly you burst forth out of the suffocating black.

You woke up with a gasp and the first thing you could see, when your eyes finally focused was Michael. His gaze was full of concern which only made his grip tighten further. Everything you could remember started rushing back to you and your dream suddenly made since. You shivered violently, the fever leaving you cold that no amount of blankets could take away.

“Michael,” relief flooded you when he cupped your cheek. His hand felt scorching but also so good at the same time. You nuzzled deeper into his touch and it made him smile. He nodded before holding up the different pill boxes and the cup of water he had gotten for you. You took the medicine but you couldn’t remember having these types of medicines in your cabinet.

“Where did you get the medicine,” you finally asked after taking a big drink of juice. Now that you thought about it you didn’t have any juice either. You searched his face, only for him to look away. Chills took over your body and it wasn’t because of the fever.

“Michael?!” You coughed and he offered you more water. You took the drink but you weren’t letting this go. Those few seconds gave him time to gather up the courage to finally tell you.

  “I went out to the store,” he finally replied. Michael didn’t think it was possible for you to pale further, but you did. The thought of him out on his own, especially on a weekend day when everyone and anyone could be out and about on the town. You understood that he did it all for you and it made you feel a little guilty that you had gotten sick. It had made him leave the safety of your home, all because you weren’t taking care of yourself. Michael could tell that you were starting on the downhill slope of blaming yourself for him leaving. Though it was his choice and he was sitting before you perfectly safe and sound.

“Stop blaming yourself,” he cupped your cheeks forcing you to look up at him into the eyes. “It’s not your fault. None of it. Not me having to go out and getting the things you need, you getting sick, or what happened at work. You didn’t ask for it and you didn’t bring anything down on yourself. You have to stop blaming yourself (Y/N) and start healing.”

You melted while still shaking with tears streaming down your cheeks, “I feel like it’s all my fault.”

“It’s not,” Michael said vehemently. “Stop letting the guilt tear you down, it’s time to let yourself heal.”

“Do I deserve to heal,” you sobbed.

Michael chuckled, taking you into his arms and holding you tightly. He wished greatly that he could take this burden from you and make the man who brought this upon you pay dearly, “You deserve it more than anyone else. You said that I was worth having a life and healing. If I’m worth that, then you’re a thousand times worth being happy again.”

As soon as he said those words, you felt relief overtake your body and all the exhaustion made you feel faint.

“Thank you Michael,” you mumbled. He kissed your forehead, laying you back down in the bed and covering you back up.

“Don’t thank me,” he said kissing you again, this time on the cheek. “Just focus on getting better.”

“I will,” you yawned, the medicine taking affect. Michael stayed by your side until you had drifted back off into a deep restful sleep.

You had thought that the feeling of being watched all the time, even at home was just you being paranoid. You had never been a suspicious person but a lot had things had changed in your life. What you didn’t know was that your feelings were right. Ian had it all before you ripped everything from him. He couldn’t let you get away with it, especially when he was going to make your life everything you could ever want. So he followed you, everywhere. He waited for you to leave work, the grocery store he kept his distance but remained close to see what you were getting, and then he followed you home. 

There he spent most of his time as he took note of everything. Ian noticed that you didn’t have much of a social life as he saw that as soon as you got home you rarely left. You also kept all the curtains closed and he rarely got to see even a shadow inside. He didn’t give up, staying there haunting you and stalking you. Then his perseverance paid off as the weekend came along and Sunday he saw someone leaving your home that wasn’t you. A large man went to your car a hat pulled down low and sunglasses. Ian sucked in a breath as he noticed a scar peeking out from under the sunglasses. Michael Myers had once again disappeared without a trace months ago and the cops couldn’t find him anywhere. Your life had suddenly changed and you had become more secretive and drawn from him and your fellow employees. Now he could see, that you had found someone and brought him into your home. And that one man was Michael Myers. The Shape of Haddonfield and Ian knew he wasn’t going to let this chance slip him by as he was going to make you pay. He would take from you exactly what you took from him. He would make you wish that you never had denied him that fateful day.

[what-yadoking-likes]

Henlo how are you?

Are there any games besides Payday that you're really into? I've been pretty hyper fixated on Terraria recently. Idk I just really want an excuse to talk about Terraria with someone but like no one here plays it as far as I know and I have this pent up excited Terraria energy I just wanna unleash on someone but I don't want to confuse or burden anyone so I'm just in the corner alone with my Terraria hyper fixation. Sorry if that's too much I just wanted to ask you something but couldn't think of anything cool.

Actually I did have a good question (maybe idk). Are you proud of how you're doing with The Cell? Like are you satisfied with the direction it's going and how the plot is unfolding or do you just feel like it's not right or it could be better? Also completely unrelated but Jacket just coming in and cock blocking Wolf and Hoxton is fucking hilarious

Uh idk how to end this so I'm just gonna put an emoji here 🫠

Hi-iiiiiii

I have personally never played Terraria. My partner has played in the past & occasionally goes back to it, gets obsessed for a few days & then the cycle repeats itself all over again.

Games other than Payday I am obsessed with HMMM. Well... I often find myself going back to Left 4 Dead 2 (which isn't surprising considering it was inspo for Payday : The Heist). There's something weirdly comforting about it?

Recently I've been playing Pokemon Scarlet alongside my partner who plays Violet. We did our best to ignore news of new 'mons & spoilers & so far I have enjoyed the game! Pokemon came out when we were in primary school, so it's nostalgic for us to play, but we've also been playing the games together since we got together some 13 years ago, so it's kinda like a couples activity we do now, I guess.

I have a lot of time & love for Final Fantasy, too. FFIX & FFX are amongst some of my favourite games of all-time, but because of their nature (huge-ass games with sidequests that send the in-game clock into the hundreds of hours), they're not something I dip into all the time - but I do re-play them often, & even have tattoos referencing both games.

NOW ONTO THE CELL OH HO HO.

This is how I had imagined the Cell going all along, pretty much. I didn't always know how they would get to the exact position Wolf and Hoxton are in right now, but I knew that I wanted it to be an examination of Hoxton post-breakout, because when I first started playing Payday 2 (immediately after blasting through Payday: the Heist & loving it), I was disappointed that the development/story seemed to be told more through blocks of text accessible in menus & live-action films rather than in the game itself. Don't get me wrong, I love the live-action stuff and the opportunity to have written information on hand, but I felt a bit... disappointed... with how the breakout was this huge cinematic thing, and then the revenge happened, and then... Hoxton is back to his old self again? I didn't buy it. There would be more to it than that. Speaking as someone with anxiety, depression & PTSD... there's always more to it than that.

My original intention was to have the main focus be on Hoxton and his PTSD/anxiety/trauma from being left behind and replaced. As I started writing I quickly realised I was actually more comfortable writing from Wolf's POV. This inevitably meant I ended up focusing on his traumas too, but I'm not displeased with how it turned out that way.

I guess... when I first started writing it, I didn't think I would still be writing it so many months later. I knew it would be multi-chapter but I had no idea it would become as big as it has in terms of the word count.

Originally I wanted a way to take one of my favourite fanfic guilty pleasures tropes - 'but there was only one bed!' - and find a way to make it believable. We all love a good power-cut/thunderstorm situation - I've written them myself - but I wanted to challenge myself to write it in a more... plausible way?

I guesssss I also didn't intend on having Dallas be a prick... but he turned out that way.

If the focus is more on the 'am I proud' of the Cell, well... I have lost confidence in myself a bit recently. In the beginning I got a lot of comments which were really lovely & went into detail about what people liked or found funny, & now there are less of those & part of me wonders whether the readers are happy with the direction its going. That's... been a tough thought to deal with ngl, because I did really think I was telling a good story and telling it well, & now there's a lot more uncertainty & insecurity about it for me. But I need to hold steady and get the whole thing done so I can move on to something else because... it's been a long time.

Also lol Jacket. I originally wanted him to catch them in the previous chapter (before the rimjob scene), but figured it would be a bit awkward to have them get caught, then immediately getting back into it like 'OH WELL LOL', so I switched the order a bit instead.

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.4)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Yoongi makes his choice, so does Moonbyul.

Pairing: Beta! Yoongi, Omega! Reader, Omega! Jungkook, Omega! Seokjin, Alpha! Namjoon, Alpha! Hoseok, Alpha! Taehyung, Alpha! Jimin,

Tags: Graphic material, Death, Murder, Dead bodies and dying described in detail, brief suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts, depression, DARK THEMES, guilt, blood, a touch of blood kink? drugs, murder/crime themes, guilt, kinda fuck or die vibes? finally fluff at the end, mating marks, 

W/c: 7.1k

A/n: here is the moment you’ve all been waiting for! the big d word moment!!! my carpal tunnel is acting up, I will probably not be able to get the next chapter out for a few days or until next week. Chronologically the next chapter continues after part 1. 

(PLEASE READ TAGS FOR CW BEFORE YOU PROCEED)

Previous part — Masterlist

Part 4: If I Have You 

Pulling the trigger is the easiest thing you’ve ever done. 

Geumjae’s body flinches back from the force of the bullet. The ceiling splattering with the spray of his blood. It hits the side of your face too, your white shirt crested with red at the shoulders, dripping down your throat along with the blood from your mating bite. It’s a percussive splatter, noisy as it hits the wall.

People never talk about how blood gets everywhere during a murder. Yoongi is unable to stop his flinch when Geumjae’s brain matter and viscera splatter against him, just a little. 

Yoongi didn't think you'd actually do it. 

He watches you shove the body away from you, hard, what's left of his head, an empty vessel, hitting the floor with a hollow thud. His hands leave you for the last time, but the pain isn't finished. 

Yoongi barely has the forethought to lunge forward, knees scraping, wrestling the gun out of your hand before you can turn it on yourself. The barrel of the gun is hot when Yoongi's hands close around it and yank it away from your own temple. The smell of burning skin joins the metallic scent of murder. Your scent is a mess- it’s barely had a chance to mix with Geumjae’s burning wood-burning bread and wrath, rainstorms, and gunpowder. 

He shouts your name but you don't respond. 

Yoongi yanks the gun from your hands, probably hurting your fingers but panicked when he hurls the gun to the other side of the room and takes your hands in his, wrestling with you and screaming your name until the fight goes out of you. 

You’re hyperventilating when you stop struggling. Both of your wrists pinned above your head in both of Yoongi’s hands, his knees pressing your legs to stillness in a way that could be sexual but isn't- it's the easiest way for him to restrain you- both sprawled on the bloody floor. Yoongi’s crying, tears dripping down his nose, every other drop shines pink from what's on his face.  

“Yoongi please- please just let me go- I don’t want to become a ghost- I don't wanna become a walking corpse.” The way you look breaks his heart, your neck so bruised and bloody, your face swelling too from Geumjae’s hits. The way your eyes hold only darkness and no warmth as you look at him and beg- beg him to let you take your life. Your pupils are so small he can't see them at all. 

“Let me die Yoongi- please just- if you do one thing for me- let do this. let me go."

Yoongi looks at your mating mark and can already see the thin tracery of ink spreading under your skin- inky blackness spreading from your mating bite and up your throat. A piece of someone who’s dead inside of you, shot through with silver to make it stand out more. 

It’s like some silly zombie bite in a bad horror movie but it’s so much more haunting, The veins in your eyes are even starting to discolor. You have maybe a few minutes before the mating bite takes you over completely and you’re mated to someone dead.

Zombie movies were nothing more than fear of this taking root in common culture, everyone fears losing their mate. What else is more terrifying than something that takes your humanity in the way that this has taken yours. This is every person’s worst nightmare- a death sentence.  

‘Ghosts’ are what society has dubbed the women and men who live after losing their partners. Most of the time they live without alpha or a pack- unable to bond to anyone else ever again once their mates are dead. Mating bites are a one-time thing. 

When one-half of a mated pair dies- a person's body has a peculiar way of letting outsiders know how to treat them gently- The mating mark turns black like a brand. A mark to let everyone know that they would never have another person to take care of them- to love them.

But you aren’t alone- you’re not alone because you have Yoongi and he’s right here with his wide palms on you. Hands that where always made to fix things, but you aren’t just some broken toy that needs a bit of glue.  He’s too late, just seconds too late and only inches away. 

He grips both of your forearms in either of his palms hands, pulling you closer. Making you sit up, dragging you into his lap like carrying your weight in his arms will fix this. Anything to hold onto you- to not lose you too soon. 

"Stop- just stop, I've got you- I've got you," Yoongi repeats it more for himself than he does for you.

But there are wounds in your body that can’t be fixed by simple hoping. There is a limit to what one person can take. Despair is one hell of a drug and while Yoongi fights and fights there is no undoing what Geumjae has done to you.

But maybe…

Yoongi dares to hope; “It’s only a half bond if we-“ he falls silent as the idea settles over him like a bucket of cold water. His brain rushing over everything he’s ever learned about mating bites and beta’s; all of the statistics and articles that Namjoon had shoved down his throat when Jungkook had first stopped having seizures. 

The medical mystery that betas were; how they were able to heal unseen hurts and maybe- maybe this was like that. Maybe the solution to this problem lays in Yoongi’s veins, in his mouth. 

His jaw aches at the very suggestion of it.  “I’m a beta- and betas don’t usually mark- because- because they’re stronger than alpha and omega bites.” 

It’s the only truth that makes sense. All of the stories of omegas and alphas going crazy after being bitten by betas, not being able to move from them too far, extreme clinginess- a bond that was too close, too strong, stronger than anything else in their life. You weren’t supposed to bond with someone so deep, the bite almost seemed to do more harm than good. 

But you’re already dying and there isn’t much worse that could happen to you.

You don't have anything to lose but Yoongi does. You shake yourself free from his arms and pull back. Recoiling from what he’s offering to do for you; tether him to you forever when you might not make it. 

You can already feel the mating mark taking hold- It's already starting to cloud your judgment, deep down, the part of you that cares if you survive this is already winking out. The blankness sinking through your every inch, The emptiness. You’d be surprised if you lifted your hand to your chest and found your heart still beating. 

“Yoongi- No- you don’t have to- you’ve already got a pack and don’t- don’t bind yourself to someone like me.”

It’s the same argument that you had before but there’s no force behind it- every stupid excuse you had for him not to love you is moot now that your husband is dead next to you. But you're done; Every breath takes more effort than it should and you feel so heavy. You look down at your lap and feel the lethargy sinking beneath your bones like lead. Hidden hands gripping around your throat cutting off your words.

You feel like you’re choking on something. 

You’ve felt depressed before (how could you not have given what your life was like before Yoongi). And having a mating mark from someone deceased feels like that but worse, like it's turned up by a factor of three. A weird mixture of dizzy, absent, and dissociative. You have never felt less connected to your own body, it feels foreign.

You are nothing but a soul inside a body, craving release. A thread of black that wants to tug you down to where ever Geumjae is now. 

The sinking sadness says to you with gentle hands- this is a fine spot. You can just sit here, It’s okay. You don’t have to move, you can just sit here until you die. As long as no one bothers you and hurts you again, you could just sit here, as long as it was quiet and peaceful. Things don't even have to be good, you don't need good things, you just need it to not hurt anymore. Until the earth reclaims you like it takes abandoned buildings. 

 A sharp pain that goes through your heart, an ache so deep that it speaks to cavernous places, wakes monsters that you didn’t know where there. 

You’ve never really wanted to die before, maybe as a passing thought- but didn’t everyone think that way? it’s so different now- where the thoughts are all consuming, running over your words in your head like oil spreading and staining cloth. 

Die- want to die- want- want- want die- wanna go- wanna be quiet- wanna fall asleep and not wake up- want to- 

But if you decided to lay here and not get up again, Yoongi would stay too.

He would try and get you to move, probably beg and try to get you to live. Even if he never bit you, he’d stay next to you until the end, just to hold your hand so that you didn’t have to be completely alone. You thought dying would feel more lonely,  But maybe it doesn't feel that way because Yoongi’s here. 

His hand closes around yours, his thumb rubbing soothing circles as he cries. And you think if you want one thing; it's for him to stop crying. Out of all people- Yoongi doesn't deserve the hurt (but maybe you're biased because you love him).

That tips the scale in his favor.

Geumjae’s blood is pooling on the floor. His body gives a twitch, the last remnants of his misfiring nerves as he dies. You feel the painful jerk in your mating bond. Yoongi watches the muscles of your neck twitch. 

Neither you nor Yoongi pays him any mind. 

"You don't have to do this Yoongi." Yoongi’s hand on your cheek- is like a balm to those words, pushing them out of your head. “You can’t take it back. If I die- you could die too.”

“But I want to” he kisses your cheek- and the contact lights a flame down your neck to your touch starved heart. The heat flares to light and the next second your body and your mouth are aching to bite. Your instincts an avalanche around you begging you to complete the bond that’s tearing through you making you shake. He kisses a little closer to your lips, cheeks wet and cool against your skin.

Geumaje and Yoongi were related by blood at all, maybe your instincts can’t tell the difference. 

“I don’t care if it does- I can’t- I’m not going to just let you die” his voice breaks on the last word. Not when it was me who was too slow to save you; He won’t say the words or whisper his guilt into the open air. 

“Please sweetheart- let me.” He kisses your lips. So soft- achingly soft, Your first kiss, you wish it had happened under better circumstances.

You hate that the first kiss you and Yoongi share tastes like blood.

But there would be more- there could be more kisses if Yoongi manages to do what he’s saying he can. The mark on your shoulder is already healing, the blackness stretching to scar treacherously fast. Normal mating bites usually take a day or so to heal, but not yours, it’s already scabbing and sealing in the poision.

If you’re going to try this- if it’s going to work- it has to be now. The bond is advancing, regardless of the fact that Geumjae is barely dead, barely cooling beside the two of you.

It’s barely been 10 minutes since you shot him. And if you listen carefully- you can hear sounds in the rest of the house, maybe someone else from the gang here- about to come upstairs and discover the mess of you three. muffled voices and heavy footsteps grow louder by the second. 

Yoongi is safe but you’re not. “Yoongi,” you say, his name a broken hymn on your mouth. Musical- and Yoongi can’t think of a time when he wouldn’t want to hear it. Hoping for more of this closeness and maybe one day, a love that doesn’t hurt.

You get the feeling that even if you are broken beyond repair, this man could fix you. Wide hands and careful fingers that rub the blood away from your skin, hands made for making things and mending things when they break. And maybe you’re selfish enough to let him bind himself to you- broken as you are.

You press your forehead to his, you have to ask one more time. "Are you sure Yoongi?"

He nods, quick and small, "I'm sure." there isn’t anything in his eyes that makes you doubt him.

"Okay," you say softly, tugging him closer, tilting your chin up to the sky, your skin stings where it stretches around the mating mark. "okay. Come here then."

Your hands tangle in Yoongi’s hair as you guide his mouth to your throat, and his mouth sliding into the space where Geumjae was just minutes ago. He lingers for just half a breath before sinks his teeth over the mating mark, a little deeper- his mouth a little wider. He makes the bite a tiny bit offset.

Your breath hitches, back arching. His hands-on your waist go hard, holding you closer to him, as close as he can get you. Unlike before when Geumjae’s bite was agony, this feels like heroin- like every drug mixing together sending you up and up.

If you looked down and saw your hands were tipped in gold you wouldn’t be surprised. For a second you think you can taste colors, and then the chocolate sea salt of Yoongi settles over your tongue delicious, like ambrosia- fuck it’s so strong, it’s halfway between a headache and a high. You gasp when you feel it, feel Yoongi all over, Goosebumps rising on your arms as he touches you. The smell of ocean breeze and chocolate filling you in a way that Geumjae’s scent didn’t.

Geumjae’s bite was nothing compared to this, a whisper to a symphony. 

This must be what a mating bite feels like when you want it. You cry out. Gripping the lapels of his coat. Yoongi’s heartbeat thunders in your ears, the only thing you can hear, until the beat matches to your own, heartbeats pumping in sync.

Your blood tastes sweet and he wonders what it says about him that he likes the taste. He gulps at it- once- twice- and then a third time just to make sure the mark sticks, maybe he could suck a little bit of Geumjae out of you.

His kisses get feverish, lapping up your blood with wide laves of his tongue, moaning a little. and this time when you kiss- with your blood in his mouth, they get hurried and rushed like he can consume you, each one sweeter than the last. There is one moment of nausea, only one moment where Yoongi sees the black tracery receded and feels it dim. 

Maybe it’s not gone, but at least it's buried.

Yoongi can almost feel you, can almost feel the bond, but not yet. Your scent, it's all cake-sweet now. You kiss him until your jaw aches until your lips feel bruised. Until you know the sounds below actually are people, rushing around trying to find Geumjae. Calling out your names. 

Yoongi is the first to break apart, the room spinning. “Do me” he lifts the edge of his shirt, picking out a spot that he likes, the meat just above his hip. A spot is half-hidden by his shirt and his pants.

Not everyone likes to have their mating marks on their neck (you certainly would have chosen to have yours another place had you been given the chance). And Yoongi stretches out so that you can get your mouth on him, your mouth on the spot he wants to bind your soul to his.

He holds one of your hands in both of his hands so gently as you cup his hip and bite down, even as you begin to make out the noise of gang members coming up the attic stairs. Yoongi bites down a moan, lets you take one gasp of blood into your mouth before your teeth leave his skin.

The high rushes over him and he knows his pupils are mirrors of yours, black and dilated. He just has time to wipe his blood from your mouth and get you as close as he can, before the attic door creaks, the barrel of a gun pushing it open. And the gangsters enter the room with practiced steps.

Yoongi pulls his shirt back down just before they have a chance to see.

You play the part, slumping against him and letting him take the reigns. the people must take it for pain even though you’re shaking not with sobs, but from the feeling of Yoongi’s soul intertwining with yours. Full body shivers and something solidifying between the two of you. 

Together you shake, Yoongi is barely aware of the gangsters clearing the room. 

You feel like you can taste his thoughts, though you can’t actually hear what he's thinking. You can feel the way they tumble like small waves over each other. You feel concern and something else, something that feels an offal lot like love shoot down the fledgling bond as Yoongi’s arms pull you up, firmer against him.

It makes shivers rise on every inch of your skin, the pleasure he feels when he touches you that you're now hyper-aware of. It's what your body has been craving- the completion of the bond.

You both bleed- your blood dripping onto the floor. One part sacrament and sacred love and another part poisonous longing for a man you hated so much more than you ever loved him. This feels strange, it feels wrong, and that you have one part of you reaching out for something that’s not there. And then this- with Yoongi, right and front of you and inside of you. Completely occupying your heart and your mind and your body.

Accept for that one poisoned inch; you might not be completely his, but it's enough now, the bond with yoongi occupying those thoughts you'd had minutes before.

The gangsters don’t touch Geumjae, at least until Moonbyul enters the room, unarmed. Yoongi’s cousin eyes Yoongi from the door. There isn’t enough room in this torture room for the 12 or so gangsters and the three of you, they press against the walls, guns at the ready.

Moonbyul approaches Geumjae’s corpse, turning him over with her foot to see his blankly staring face, turning it towards the heavens instead of hell. For a moment, Yoongi thinks she might actually kick him. She plucks her pink handgun from the floor. Someone passes her a rag and she wipes it free of blood and fingerprints.

Her eyes on Yoongi are hard; a bit of mirth playing on the edge of her mouth as she plays her hand. A queen in a room full of pawns and knights, and the king underfoot. Her hand of aces. 

Betting it all on a simple game of roulette- red or black- will Yoongi challenge her or not. Yoongi doesn't miss the way her finger hovers on the trigger. 

“I suppose this entire situation would be concerning to me- if you hadn’t already named me as Don.” she nudges Geumjae's body again with her foot. "I guess he didn't take it well?"

She lies effortlessly, taking the moment to seize power. So this was what she was waiting for. Yoongi doesn’t challenge her words for fear of what she might do right now, not that he really would anyway. 

Yoongi tips his head forward in difference, “No he didn’t,” 

Moonbyul tucks her gun back into her waistband, and holds out her hand to pull yoongi to his feet. 

Yoongi takes you with him, small and still a little high in his arms. You hide your face in Yoongi’s shoulder, Holding onto him tight. You don’t know if you could take it if they tried to separate you now. 

Yoongi has to swallow to continue, struggling to think before he speaks with so many new sensations shocking his body. He's intimately aware of the way you shift in his arms, arms tightening around you at the very idea of you moving more than an inch away from him right now as you settle onto your own two feet. still a little unsteady. 

“He- he mated her against her will, and then he tried to kill us when I told him I wouldn’t- and- and after-” It’s not a lie- not really, but it still feels that way. Moonbyul doesn't need to do anything more than that to nod to call her men off, and they all relax around the room. 

They instantly fade from engaged concern to understanding. The other heads of household will probably grill Yoongi more. But you’ve both got time to get your story straight. For now, they need to clean up the body.

It helps that threatening the beta is a punishable offense; no one will question Yoongi killing him- especially since they’re brothers. Most of the families tend to think that inner house spats that family's business. Yoongi doesn’t know which of his relatives will inherit the title of head of the Min family, but it won't be Yoongi.

You’re small and silent in Yoongi’s arms, so vulnerable, he keeps you a few paces away from any of the mobsters, bites down a growl whenever any of them come too close to his mate. It’s just the mating bond making it’s self-known. You are his. No one can touch you.

Yoongi has never been a possessive man, but now he is. The mating mark tearing through him and screaming at him to protect, to provide, to nurture, and keep safe. He strokes down your back as his cousin quietly orders the others to clean up the mess and Geumjae’s body. The family has cleanup crews on call for this very reason.

They quietly offer to burn the house down to stage the death but Yoongi doesn’t care. He guesses it belongs to him now or maybe you. It depends on which bond the family will consider more important; the bonds of a half mating or the bond of brotherhood.

“I’ll handle it-“ his cousin has the good grace to offer comfort to Yoongi that way when he gets you into her car. she doesn't say anything about the dents in the side.  

Yoongi doesn’t quite hate her for any of this, but he doesn’t trust her the same way he did before either. She’s gotten what she wanted- the Don position. Plucked it from Yoongi’s hands.

“You haven’t had a chance to call the heads of house and tell them about your decision yet, but after that, you should be free to go” she reads him easily as always, The only other manipulator up to par with Yoongi himself in the gang. She knows that not an inch of Yoongi wants to stay in this house or this city a second longer.

At the idea of leaving you to straighten up in Yoongi’s lap to listen in a little more, you share a look with Yoongi. Your mate, your body sings the eye contact makes you shiver in your seat. Yoongi pulls you closer, stroking up to your arm mistakenly thinking you’re cold. You pull yourself closer to him- but it feels like you can’t get close enough, He makes a dissatisfied noise in his throat.

Yoongi will have to get used to this feeling. Like his soul is walking outside of his body. It feels incredibly vulnerable and intimate- He can feel your panic, how physically you’re being torn apart right now, every few minutes you shake. Yoongi puts your legs over his and holds you close. Watching your face closely for every twinge of pain as the lights of the city flicker over you two.

The meeting with the heads of house is tense, though the usual group of is two short now, standing only at eleven members now that Geumjae is gone and Moonbyul is named Don. You cannot be Don and a head of house at the same time.

It takes every bone in Yoongi’s body to let you be taken into the other room by Moonbyul’s mate to check over your injuries. He stops her with a hand on her shoulder. He catches Moonbyul’s nostrils flare, but she doesn’t say anything. “Would you look at her bruises for me?”

Later Yoongi will check them himself, again and again until he's sure you're all right. But the sooner you get ice on the nastier bruises the better off you’ll be. Someone should look at your ribs and your head too- he has half a mind to take you to the hospital before you leave the city. He doesn’t know how long it will be before you’re stationary again. He’d stay in the city tonight if you needed to. But he can feel your panic down the bond, The sooner you both get out of here the better.

With Geumjae dead there is no true opposition against his cousin's rule. She stands at the head of the table like she’s meant to be there. And still- the heads of the families talk through the night, kicking the non-proverbial dead horse into the ground. There is little mourning for Geumjae, one granny who cries faintly in the other room while the heads argue. Yoongi supposes he should look more upset, but no one pays attention to him now that he’s made his choice.

No, what they spend most of the time discuss is you. Sat in the other room, able to hear all of this, the men and woman weighing your fate and deciding what to do with you. If Yoongi listens, he can hear Hyejin’s quiet voice. Can feel your discomfort as the ice hits your ribs, maybe broken, definitely badly bruised.

Yoongi flinches every time he feels the pain pulse down the bond. Maybe in time, it will feel less sensitive but right now- Yoongi can feel your hurts just as bad as he can feel his own. A part of him is reaching out into the other room, screaming in his ear to go comfort his mate.  

He has a mate. Yoongi can scarcely believe it.

The gangsters around the table remain blissfully unaware of that fact. Most of the heads are on the same page, and he won’t reveal his mating mark unless he absolutely needs to, he will let that secret stay secret unless necessary. It’s a good bargaining chip. They wouldn’t kill you if they knew it was going to kill him too. But still- it’s hard to hear them argue over your fate when he can’t intervene.

“You know the rules- no divorces and no separations,” one alpha says, he’s older- nearing 60, but Yoongi can’t excuse that cruelty with age. The youngest, the head of the Ahn house does the rebutting for Yoongi, and he bites his tongue.

“But it wouldn’t be a divorce; she’s his widow now and his ex-mate technically.”

“Yes but that’s only a half bond.” There is only one omega head, and the woman snubs her long cigarette out on the table leaving an ashy circle 

“It’s only the alpha bite that matters- or have you forgotten?”

To her credit, the omega doesn't back down. “Chances are she’ll die anyway why are we even talking about her, we should start transitioning already.”

“That’s easy to say- if she’s got nothing left to lose what’s to stop her from going to the police.”

“I can keep an eye on her,” Yoongi volunteers, jumping at the chance to turn the discussion to his favor. They can all go fuck themselves if they ever dare to try and hurt you. “You say she’s as good as dead anyway. So you shouldn't mind if she comes with me.” 

The likelihood of anyone living after their mate dies is in the teens. Yoongi knew that and even then he bonded to you anyway. He can only hope that with his bite coursing through your veins and your body confused that you’ve got better odds than that. Yoongi did what he promised to do, now your odds are both 50/50. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t go to the police.”

Through the bond he can feel your curiosity and a little bit of fear too, you’re listening in. And he does his best to let his calmness comfort you too. Your panic instantly relaxes and he senses you reaching out. If you were next to Yoongi you’d be holding hands, and it kind of feels that way. If you could ever hold hands with someone’s soul.

“You realize that if you make her your responsibility, anything bad that happens will fall on your head as well” their betas might be sacred- but they aren’t free from the rest of the laws of the gang.

“I understand.” The Don lifts her head, regarding Yoongi with a heavy look. “She’s his widow and whether we want to address it now or not, the law says she’s inherited his wealth.”

It's met with immediate opposition, several heads of house start speaking over each other at once,  but Yoongi speaks up again, shouting over them. A beta raising their voice is about as strange as one giving or getting a mating bite, everyone falls silent. “Give it to me or her- I don’t care.”

another few minutes and they’re ready to let you go. they vote on it, and only 3 out of 11 heads vote to have you killed. Moonbyul gives the all clear, “Then you’re free to go.” Yoongi doesn’t even say goodbye, going to you in the other room just as quickly as he can without outright running. The Don’s mate is crouched in front of where you sit. Your body is mostly clean of blood and you’ve been put in other clothes; a pair of sweats and a baggy shirt.

Yoongi can see all the bruises on the side of your face turning purple and Yoongi wants to cup your face and bring it to his, kiss away the pain coloring your skin like watercolors, but can’t do it here. “Do we need to go to the hospital?” 

“Not for her but maybe for you, no ones checked you over yet, have they?”

yoongi grits his teeth, seconds away from snapping at hyejin, he wants her to get away, get as far from you as possible. “i asked if she needed the hospital.” 

Hyejin stands when Yoongi crouches. shaking her head when it becomes clear yoongi isn’t to be argued with right now. “There’s something wrong with her- but I think you know what” her eyes hover on Yoongi’s hip.

 So at least she’s figured it out. She has the good sense to utter the words quietly. Though the people in the other room aren’t concerned with Yoongi anymore, they’ve already launched into discussions about transitioning power and re-defining responsibilities. It seems Moonbyul had a plan on how she wanted the family to run from the beginning.  

He shakes off his annoyance, “Thank you,” he says to the omega, holding out a hand to you, which you take, still not saying anything. Tiredness holding you down to the chair. The same kind of look you’d had when Geumjae had died. The mating mark has been taped over but some of the blackness is still there. Yoongi wonders when it will fade, if it ever does.

“I wish I could say I’ll see you soon but I don’t think I will.” You and Yoongi nod, your hands twined between the two of you. She knows that neither you nor Yoongi has a love for the gang. No one stops you and Yoongi when you leave the house. Immediately hailing a taxi. You stop only at Yoongi’s safe house for a spare 20 minutes, while he packs up a fraction of his belongings in a hurried rush, anything to get out before someone tries to change their mind.

If Geumjae had any hidden loyalists the beta that killed him and his runaway wife would be the first targets. Let alone their reaction if they knew who had really killed Geumjae. The quicker the two of you get away from the city the better.

You end up at the train station, Yoongi breaks the bracelets off of your wrist- the same ones that he saw you wear on you the first night- and the ones that he’s always thought looked like shackles. He yanks at them as hard as he can until they snap; kissing your wrist after each one is off. You throw them over the side of the chain-link fence and into the darkness- to be lost forever you hope. The symbols of all you’ve lost.

When you get on the train, you cuddle close under Yoongi’s jacket and into his warmth. He’s a protective barrier between you and the third seat that thankfully remains empty this late into the night it’s so late it’s nearly early morning. Most of the train is empty besides an elderly couple at the front. Regardless, the two of you sit behind them. Yoongi can’t take his eyes off of the potential threat. Actually flinches when the conductor comes around to stamp your tickets.

You head off into the night- your little box of light in a sea of street lamps and hidden dangers. You almost fall asleep a few times, head bobbing as you catching yourself before it hits his shoulder. After the third time this happens he pulls you in close, tucks your head close to his scent gland, and commands “sleep” in a voice that you cannot disobey.

Eventually, you wake, the car is bright with the midday sun and the car is half full. Yoongi’s eyes are bloodshot as they train on every passenger who comes in and leaves your train car. Yoongi holds your hand, rubbing his thumb up and down the back in an endless trail. A conductor opens the door of your train car to pass through, bunching a few tickets here and there from the new passengers who have boarded the train.

He passes by where you're bundled and Yoongi flinches so hard it wakes you fully. his shoulder accidentally nudging a bruise on your cheek, He murmurs his apologies, panicked hands fussing over you. He could feel that he hit one of your bruises and the horror of hurting you make him wide-eyed and worried. You catch his hands, pressing the pads of them to your lips. Yoongi's hands shake as they touch you, hours later, he's still high on adrenaline. 

“You need to sleep Yoongi” it’s been a long few days for both of you.

He doesn’t answer with more than a grunt. But you get off the train at the next stop and it’s nearing noon by the time the two of you stumble across the street to a motel, and it’s shitty and smells like cigarettes and the lady at the front desk asks if you need the hourly rate or the daily rate. Though she does give you a discount because Yoongi’s a beta. Eyeing the blood-soaked collar of his jacket and the bloody bandages on your neck.

You should be holed up somewhere safe away from prying eyes to adjust to your new mating bite- not in a hotel where the smells of other people assault your nose. Making you press close to Yoongi because everything smells so new and scary. Like your senses have been turned up and only Yoongi can quell their sensitivity.

you don’t realize that the attendant gave you two beds until you get to the room. you both stare blankly before you cough and separated. the closeness too much now that you’re alone and free from threats. Though it doesn't feel that way. 

you hate it- you don’t want to curl up across the room from Yoongi- you want to be next to him. you almost whimper when he He steps away to the other bed to set down his backpack. You want to cry, your skin feels irritated and itchy without his pressed to yours. You want him to touch you but you can’t stay it. Don’t know how to ask around the thickness in your throat.

He gets a clean shirt from his black backpack and helps you put it on so that you don’t irritate the mating bite. You can’t lift either of your arms much and neither can he but he pushes through the pain for you. He only has 2 or three sets of clothes that he grabbed from the cottage, and it’s all you’ve got.

“We’ll get some more clothes for you tomorrow.” He doesn’t say that you should have grabbed some of your clothes- because you both know you couldn’t handle staying in that house a second more than was necessary. You barely thought to linger long enough to grab your purse, which thankfully had everything you really need in it. 

Somehow he has athletic tape in his bag, and he spends a few minutes changing out your soaked through bandages, bundling up toilet paper, and taping it over your mating bite. Only after yours is taken care of does he let you do the same for his bite on his hip, and the burns on his hands. 

You pull his pants off and then his boxers down just enough so that you can get at it, small from your mouth, the skin around it irritated and pink. You try not to let your eyes hover on the small happy trail that traces from his belly button downwards. The band on his boxers is stained with blood- and you wonder how much it hurt to have it dig into it all day.

You curl up in separate beds, and only when you’re under the covers do you slide off your pants. leaving you only in a large shirt that smells like yoongi.  Yoongi does the same, says “goodnight” and shuts off the light but doesn’t turn away from you, keeping his eyes on you in the darkness. 

You’re silent for a few minutes, but you can tell that neither of you is falling asleep. Your bed feels cold and you wonder if he feels the same, you let the distance hurt for a minute before you give in.  

"Thank fucking god-" He peels back the blanket for you the second you make the move and dash across the cold room. you scoot into his warmth and he lets out a little ‘oof’ when you collide. Letting him pull you closer, put the blanket over your back, and make sure all of your skin is covered.

It’s not enough for Yoongi and he pulls you sideways so that he can get some of his weight on top of you. A growl building in his chest at the thought of anyone walking through the door right now.

He needs to check the lock, make sure that no one can possibly disturb you. Needs to- the instinct filling him so harshly he can’t breathe. He tries to pull away, but your hands tighten on him, and you let out a whine so heartbreaking that instantly has him releasing comforting chocolate, flopping back on top of you nuzzling under your chin, you feel like you’re drowning in it. 

Your love with Yoongi is still too new and raw to be close like this without feeling shy- and yet you can’t resist, your mating bond is like a fresh burn that you can’t stop picking at because it hurts. (Like there’s something dead there that you need to get rid of, you can’t heal around, you need to tear it out so that it feels more like bleeding rather than something that was carved out by hungry heat.) You fiddle with the bandage at your neck before Yoongi takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together.

For a moment, you crave the release that blood might give you- and like he can feel it. Yoongi presses a kiss to the back of your hand. “Couldn’t sleep?” Yoongi says. You shake your head. The motel creeks and overhead you can hear someone else moving in an adjacent room. Yoongi gets his head on your pillow and adjusts his hand around your waist so that he’s not hitting the vicious bruise that Geumjae left with one of his kicks.

The last 24 hours have been such a tangle. It feels weird to not move now. Yoongi’s heart is still hammering; you can feel it under your palm. You’re both unwilling to relax and close your eyes even for a second even though you’re both exhausted.

You’re worried if you close your eyes you’re going to see Geumjae's face.

Yoongi left the light in the bathroom on for you. Sensing that the shadows would be too thick with nightmares for you to handle for long. You look at each other in the darkness before Yoongi lets out a shaky little giggle.

“Do you know what I just realized?” he says, the words quieted against the too scratchy bedspread. “We could have gotten a better hotel, we easily have enough money for it now” and that’s true.

If Yoongi’s orders were followed and the gang's accountant really did transfer all of your inherited wealth to your name then- fuck- both of you saw the bank statements. Both of you know how much money Yoongi’s family had amassed- the same wealth that Geumjae had inherited and now you.

“Fuck you’re right,” you say, ducking in so that you don’t have to meet Yoongi’s eyes. Geumjae used to hit you sometimes if you did that- and trained habits die-hard. 

yoongi kisses your brow, slow little pecks that travel down your cheeks, as unhurried as they are sweet. It's strange to be close to him now when it’s all you’ve wanted for the last few months. You never thought you’d get this. It feels like a daydream and a nightmare all at once.

“We could buy a whole house- or three” and even then you’d have more than enough money to live on after. For the rest of your days, comfortable and cozy even if you were foolish with the money. Yoongi still gets his stipend from the gang. No doubt to be greater now that he’s the only beta.

He stops his kisses, mouth hovering on your cheek, “We could do that.” he sounds like he’s barely containing his excitement. 

You’ll both be fine. Neither of you will ever have to worry about money again and it makes you feel sick and happy with something that feels a terrible lot like grief.

Even if you got that- the last 24 hours haven’t been worth it. You’re not entirely out of the woods yet. The mark on your shoulder is scabbing over and inky. But every few hours of closeness that the two of you have- Yoongi think’s he sees the color fade- just a little bit.

You don’t know where the giggle comes from but one moment it comes out of your mouth and you laugh, and Yoongi joins in the sound startling out of his chest. He presses his forehead tight against yours and sighs at the sound. You see the moment clarity falls on him and an idea settles into his mind the second it hits. And dim happiness settles over your bond.

Yoongi lifts your hand to his mouth and kisses your bruised knuckles. “Let's buy a house.”

You smile- tired from today but still willing to placate him. “Okay Yoongi, we can do that.”

Now finally, his eyes are starting to droop, every few seconds he tries to keep them open, but you know he's seconds away from sleep. His words slurred when they whisper, his sweet chocolaty breath tickling your cheeks. “Goodnight sweetheart- love you.”

“Love you too,” it’s the first time you’ve ever said those words to each other. It feels like the first of many times you’ll say it. Forever- you and Yoongi will be mated together until you both die. And who cares if that happens tomorrow or months from now. Who cares? Because you have him and that’s all that matters.

Yoongi holds you and knows- that he will love you- as long as he can.

He watches you sleep, waits until your eyes are closed. Until he can make sure you’re safe and warm. A gentle purring fills the hotel room, soft and peaceful. yoongi hears it louder when he presses his ear to your chest. He tries to keep his eyes open, but somewhere around the second hour- they fall closed.

Neither of you dream.

—————

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[makeste]

I like Bakuguo but his attitude is starting to really piss me off. He's talking about Daku as if he's just ~crazy~ and as if he isn't partly to blame for Deku's toxic self-worth issues. It's infuriating to watch. If Bakuguo doesn’t admit out loud and in front of his friends that his bullying of Deku played a part in Deku's current destructive state and if he doesn’t verbally apologize and reaffirm Deku's worth then I can no longer like Bakuguo's character or Hori's writing.

tbh I don't really know why this is the discourse of choice for people all of a sudden, but this is already the second ask I've gotten about it, so I might as well address it lol.

I think fandom is conflating fanon!Deku and canon!Deku here again. fanon Deku is of course much more sensitive and woobified and has much shakier self-esteem. fanon Deku is the one that turns evil in so many AUs because of Kacchan's bullying. fanon Deku is the one that actually jumps off the roof in so many fics, as opposed to fishing his notebook back out of the pond a few minutes later grumbling about how Kacchan needs to think before he speaks or else he could land himself in serious shit one day if god forbid anyone actually does take his cruel words to heart.

and just to clarify before I get any further, I am not saying this to excuse Kacchan's actions in any way, because what he did was still completely terrible and unacceptable and WAY over the line, and what's more he knew it, too. the bullying was still shitty and horrible and awful, and definitely impacted Deku and made him miserable. I fully acknowledge that, and that Kacchan has a lot of atoning to do for it. this is not a "Kacchan did nothing wrong" post.

but that being said, I don't think canon Deku's reckless self-sacrificing nature actually has anything to do with the bullying. I think they're two completely separate things. canon Deku actually has pretty decent self-esteem in spite of everything Kacchan did to him. canon Deku doesn't think he is useless. canon Deku had a wholeass fight with Kacchan less than 10 chapters into the series in which he explicitly spelled it out for Kacchan that he had a lot of worth, and was going to prove it to him. canon Deku was persistent in wanting to become a hero and hoping and believing that he could find some way in spite of being quirkless. canon Deku never let go of that dream even when no one else supported it. I don't think he would have even given up on it after being told no by All Might, tbh -- we just never got to see how it would have played out because of everything that happened with the sludge monster shortly afterward. but he's not the type to ever give up on something that easily, and we've seen that. canon Deku never thought he was useless, but rather wanted to prove to everyone else that he wasn't.

the drive that Deku has to save and protect others even at the expense of his own safety is something entirely separate from that. he doesn't break his body for others simply because he has no self-esteem and thinks that his own life isn't important. he does it because he can't stand the thought of someone else getting hurt, and knowing that he could have done something to prevent it. it's as simple as that. like, Spider-Man has the whole "with great power comes great responsibility" thing, right? and he doesn't have low self-esteem; he simply believes that if he has the ability to help someone else, then he has a responsibility to help them. it's a personal creed. and Deku is based on Spider-Man. his philosophy is based on that philosophy, which was one of Horikoshi's core influences and is one of the core creeds in superhero fiction.

Deku is self-destructive not because he doesn't value himself, but because he is literally physically incapable of standing back and doing nothing if he knows that he can do something. he's the type of person who sees a car speeding towards someone and leaps in to push them out of the way. NOT because he wants to get himself fucking pancaked by a speeding car, but simply because he can't sit back and watch the other person get hurt without taking action. his body moves before he can think. and that's where the whole "doesn't take himself into account" thing comes in -- the fact that his thought process simply stops at "get them out of the way of the car", and never extends beyond that to "hey, and maybe I should try to find a way to do this that doesn't involve me getting hit in their place." to him, that's simply less important than the first priority, which is getting the other person out of the way.

and regarding that last part, while that may seem like a self-worth issue if he's prioritizing everyone else above himself, I think what it actually is just selflessness taken to extremes. like for instance, when a parent sacrifices themselves to save their child, them placing the child's life above their own isn't necessarily because they don't see themselves as having value. rather, it's that they love the child so much that they place their well-being even above their own. and that's what Deku is like as well. except that in his case he cares about EVERYONE, and so is willing to sacrifice himself for anyone. and that selflessness is his defining character trait, and simultaneously the most admirable and the most terrifying thing about him. it's both his greatest strength and his greatest weakness, which I think is fascinating to explore.

but anyway, so that's also why we never really see anyone thoroughly chewing him out for this behavior either. because the thing is, it is admirable how selfless he is. it's just that there's also a reason why most people are at least a little bit selfish. and that's because too much selflessness will ultimately and inevitably wind up getting you killed. at some point you either have to learn when to put the oxygen mask on yourself first, or else find yourself a loyal group of friends (or classmates) to watch your back, and make sure that mask gets on you when you need it. and maybe help you land the plane too while they're at it.

anyway so that was a lot of rambling, but basically it all boils down to three things:

when Deku berates himself for being useless (for instance at the end of the War arc), he's doing it out of frustration for not being able to push the others out of the way of the metaphorical car. that's the kind of uselessness he can't stand. the sitting-back-and-doing-nothing uselessness.

Kacchan's bullying was terrible, and it might have indeed played a part in Deku's choice of the word "useless" as a way of berating himself in these instances, but he is not the one who gave Deku this mindset of taking himself out of the equation. that's something that was already inherent to Deku from day one. (but that said, Kacchan has a lot of things to apologize to Deku for anyway, so if he wants to add this to the list I certainly won't stop him. he gets mad about Deku's suicidal attitude because it worries him, but that doesn't necessarily mean that he doesn't feel responsible for it. people underestimated his feelings of atonement before 284/285, and I think they're still underestimating him now.)

and lastly, one last important note, which is that Deku's current "saving" mindset isn't wrong, just as Kacchan's "winning" mindset was not wrong either. the lesson to be learned here is NOT that being selfless and wanting to save other people is bad. rather, it's the fact that he's trying to do it alone that's got him all fucked up right now. basically when you think about it, selflessness is really just selfishness on someone else's behalf. which means that in order for Deku to be saved, it isn't necessary for him to change his outlook or his selfless attitude, even if it is pretty crazy lol. rather, all he really needs is a good group of friends who are willing to act selfishly on his behalf in return. protecting each other through mutual selflessness lol. teamwork as self-preservation. hence why the U.A. kids are here now.

anyway so yeah, I think that's everything. sorry this got so long and out of control lol. this is just a very specific nuanced thing that's hard for me to express, but which I feel is very important when it comes to Deku's character. Kacchan didn't unleash Depressed Nomad Deku on the world (or at least not in this respect). but that being said, he and the others will hopefully be the ones to nudge him back on the right course again.

[sluttyten]

Fresh Air

Poly Series Chapter Index

summary: the first few months of life with your boyfriends and your newborn daughter bring numerous hardships that none of you were truly prepared for

length: 27.8k

tags/warnings: handjobs, dry humping, fingering, breastfeeding kink, slight daddy kink, cum sharing, smut, polyamory, multiple partners, the usual tags, angst?, some sadness

Having a baby is no easy thing. You knew that. You also knew that being in such a large polyamorous relationship wasn’t an easy thing. Already you’d lost two boyfriends; Lucas was long gone, happy in his own little world with Chaerin, and Ten was gone too, slowly slipping away.

It took the others a few days to realize that Ten was gone from the relationship. You didn’t have the same emotional breakdown as you did when Lucas ended things, so it wasn’t until you went around kissing each of them goodnight halfway through movie night, skipping over Ten, that Taeyong sat up curiously. 

“Excuse me!” He calls as you start to climb the stairs. “What just happened?”

Ten is slouched down between Taeyong and Kun, and he scowls at Taeyong, twisting his hand in the back of his shirt and tugging him back into Ten’s side. Ten mumbles, “We broke up.” 

“What?” Taeyong looks sharply between you and Ten. “When?”

The other eyes in the room slide toward this conversation. 

Ten flicks his gaze toward you, then he switches on his mischievous flirty grin, snuggling up against Taeyong. “When I realized you’re the only one for me, hyung!” 

Taeyong shoves him away with a groan.

WinWin comes down the stairs then, looking sleepy, sporting a little spit-up stain on his shoulder. He looks past you to where Taeyong and Ten are wrestling with each other, nearly falling into Kun’s lap as he groans and tries to keep them away. WinWin’s hand slides over your shoulder, squeezing reassuringly as he asks, “Hey, what’s going on?” 

He just got off from Daddy-duty, which mostly meant giving Mei a bottle and then napping with her. Ever since learning that he was her biological father, he’d been trying to help you out even more—offering to change her, to give her baths, to feed her (even though she was mostly breastfeeding, you were supplementing a little with bottles and formula).

“Me and Ten broke up,” you tell him, plucking at the front of his shirt. “You might want to wash this. Mei spit up on you.”

“Hold on. Are we just skipping over that? What do you mean you and Ten broke up?” WinWin frowns, his lips drooping into a pout.

You look back at everyone else, and a few of them are craning their necks to be able to see you. So you sigh, and you explain the breakup. Ten nods along with you, occasionally adding his own little input.

“I told you all that first day when we learned I was pregnant, if any of you want to leave or feel like you can’t deal with helping raise a baby, I understand. None of you signed up for a baby when we started this relationship.” You glance around the room, your gaze touching Lucas who has his head ducked as he picks at some loose skin around his nail. “Only WinWin’s definitely stuck with me now.”

There’s grumbles and eye-rolling around the room. WinWin touches the small of your back, just a tender touch to reassure you that he’s here, not going anywhere.

“Like I said, I understand when any of you want to leave. I don’t want any of you to be unhappy here.” You turn away and start up toward your bedroom. “Goodnight!”

But the others can’t let it go. It was one thing when just Lucas had left the relationship, but now Ten too? That second loss felt like the start of instability in the relationship, a crack in the formerly solid foundation. You tried hard not to think of it that way, but that was hard especially when a few days later you’re in bed with Kun.

Mei is asleep on the bed between you both.

It was just you and her for a long while, you were reading a novel to pass the time, and because you knew it was important for her to hear speech and intonation (even though at only almost two weeks old, speech was still a while away for her) you were reading aloud to her.

Kun had come inside, and when you paused in your reading he’d smiled and shaken his head. “Keep going. You have a lovely voice.”

So you’d read until Mei was asleep again, until your throat was dry. Kun was alternating between looking at you, looking at Mei, or looking at the backs of his eyelids. But when you sit aside the book and turn onto your side facing him and your daughter, Kun’s eyes open so he can see you.

“How are you?” He asks softly, reaching out to brush a finger at the thin skin under your eyes. “How are you holding up?”

You clasp his hand, pulling it down to your lips so you can kiss his palm. “You mean in general, or like postpartum? Or the breakup with Ten?”

Kun swallows, his eyes searching yours. “All of the above, I guess.” He looks down to your lips as you kiss his hand again. “I mean, you haven’t left the house since you came home from the hospital. That’s got to be taking a toll. And I’ve done some reading online, I know about postpartum depression and stuff. Then on top of the chances of that, there could be a hit of regular depression because of the breakup. I’m just worried, concerned.”

“I’m fine, Kun. Really.”

And you believe that you are. You feel good. Even with the breakup. Ten’s still here; he’s just more like your best friend now than anything else when he comes into your room to make sure you’re getting something to eat, to coo at Mei, or to kidnap Miso from where he’s curled up beneath Mei’s crib.

“Can I ask you something else?” Kun turns onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. “If I still hook up with Ten, are you going to be mad? Does it count as cheating on you?”

You laugh. “No. It’s fine. You, Taeyong, Johnny, any of you can keep doing whatever you’ve been doing with Ten. I encourage it. I’m pretty sure one of you is actually the reason he broke up with me, unless you know of someone else that he’s had his eye on?”

Kun shakes his head. “No, just us.”

“I don’t mind sharing with Ten. I still love him. I want him to be happy.” You stroke a gentle finger down Mei’s arm. “I want you to be happy, so if you want to choose Ten, then I wouldn’t blame you for br—“

Kun moves so quickly to shut down what you’re saying that he jostles the bed and that wakes Mei.

“Shit.” Kun immediately starts trying to comfort her, cradling her gently in his arms, speaking to her in soft, soothing tones. And as Mei starts to settle, he looks sharply back up at you. “Don’t say something like that, about me breaking up with you.” His face twists with annoyance. “I’m not going anywhere. I love you.”

“That’s what you all say. Lucas loved me. Ten loved me. They both left.”

“I do fucking love you.” Kun tells you, his voice assertive and hushed as he looks down at Mei again. “If I had Mark’s balls I’d have proposed to you by now too. I’m sure half of us would have as well. I’m not planning on going anywhere anytime soon, my love. So stop trying to get rid of me.”

You’re not trying to get rid of any of them, but over the next few weeks it becomes clear that all of this—maintaining this relationship—is going to be a lot harder while you’re recovering from birth and while you’re trying to focus on Mei, feeding her and sleeping when you can.

Even with your boyfriends trying to help, it’s not easy.

Jaehyun, WinWin, Kun. They’re always up to help you with anything and everything. Doyoung and Yuta are a little squeamish still of diapers. Taeil, Johnny, Taeyong, Jungwoo, Xiaojun, Mark, and Hendery try, but some of them still seem scared to touch her, to spend time alone with a newborn who is so utterly fragile. And for some of them it seems that they’re just desperately ready for you to be recovered, ready to have sex again.

“It takes some time,” you explain to Johnny one evening when he approaches you. “I’m sorry, I know you’re horny.”

You’re not ready to have sex again, so the most you can offer any of them are handjobs, maybe a blowjob. 

You’re standing in the kitchen, just cleaning up a few dishes. Taeyong and Doyoung are upstairs watching Mei, so it doesn’t seem like such a bad idea when you offer to Johnny, “Do you want me to give you a hand?”

So moments later, you’re sitting on the edge of the counter, Johnny between your knees. You’re kissing him with one hand in his hair, the other down the front of his pants, softly kissing away his moans, giving him a few of your own to edge him closer. 

“Shit, I want to be inside you,” Johnny groans, fucking forward into your grip. 

“Just a few more weeks.” You kiss the corner of his mouth, then sit back. You twist your fingers tight in his hair, tugging lightly. Johnny’s eyes fall shut, a moan slipping free of his lips. “Then we can--”

Distantly, you hear the sound of Mei crying; her howling cries that she seems too tiny to be able to make. Your head jerks toward the doorway of the kitchen. You can see the stairs from here.

Johnny sighs, and his forehead touches against the side of yours. 

“I’m close. Please, babe.” He bucks forward through the ring of your fingers, grinding closer, trying to get himself over the edge. “Just finish me off, then go.”

She howls again, and you wonder what Doyoung and Taeyong are doing up there. Johnny pants desperately, so you turn your attention back to him, dragging his mouth back into a kiss, tugging on his hair, jerking him off just the way you know gets him off quickest.

He cums with a grunt, coating your hand in his load, and as soon as he’s finished, you pull your hand out of his pants, rinse it off in the sink, and then you hurry from the room, up the stairs after the sound of your daughter’s cries.

By the time you reach the room, you can see she’s red-faced, crying while Doyoung tries changing her diaper, and Taeyong’s desperately trying to calm her. 

“Did you pinch her or something?” You ask, wiping your hands on your pants, wrapping them briefly in your shirt to make sure they’re dry. Taeyong looks up at you with panic in his eyes. 

“She just woke up and started screaming,” he says. “Is she hungry? She’s not really all that messy.” Taeyong gestures at her diaper. 

Doyoung’s doing just fine, wiping her clean, changing her while holding his breath. Once he’s got the diaper safely fastened, he wipes his hands clean with a wet wipe, then lifts her up in his arms to rock her. He looks up at you then. “We were doing just fine before that.”

Slowly her cries quiet down, the bright color of frustration draining from her face until she’s back to normal, her little fists gathered around Doyoung’s pinkie finger and his thumb. Her dark eyes are still open wide, gazing up at his face. 

You sit down on your bed, and Taeyong sits with you.

“I feel kinda bad,” you tell him. “I left Johnny down there, but her crying had me worried. I hate that I can’t give you guys the time and attention you deserve.”

Taeyong smiles softly, stroking the back of your head. “She needs you more than we do. And I’m sure Ten would be more than happier to help out. Kun said that you told him it’s okay. Right?” You nod. Taeyong nods too, then lets out a breath before saying, “That’s a relief, honestly. Because I didn’t want to feel guilty about still sleeping with him.”

“It’s fine, Taeyong. What you have with him predates what you have with me anyway.” You squeeze his thigh reassuring. You truly don’t mind sharing any of them with Ten. “I don’t want to be the one to mess with that.”

Taeyong grins and kisses your cheek. “Thanks. Well, now you’re back, and you and Doyoung probably have this handled, I’m heading to the studio.” He stands and stretches his arms over his head, the hem of his shirt lifting up just enough that you can see the red mark of a hickey on his hipbone. “I’m almost finished up with all this recording,” Taeyong says excitedly.

And when he’s gone from the room, you flop back into your bed, staring up at your ceiling. 

Doyoung comes over to the side of the bed a moment later, and when you turn your attention to him, he’s holding Mei to his chest, but he’s only looking at you. He asks, “Can I join you?”

You nod.

The mattress shakes as Doyoung does his best to settle down carefully into the bed beside you. Mei goes comfortably onto her tummy on Doyoung’s chest, her little fist up at her mouth, thumb between her lips. You scoot closer, your face close in front of hers, and you sigh.

Doyoung rests a hand on her back.

“You okay?” He asks. “Feeling good still?”

Just a few days before, an ever-concerned Doyoung had approached you and begun asking you what felt like very pointed questions that you eventually determined was him trying to make sure that you weren’t suffering from postpartum depression. You’d convinced him you were fine and feeling good about everything, which was absolutely the truth. Still is the truth. But while staring here at your daughter’s face you just feel like you never want to leave her side.

Originally, you’d planned to go back to working after about six weeks.

“I’m not so sure I want to go back to work,” you tell Doyoung.

Mei blinks, sucking at her thumb. She’s looking at you, and you wonder if she can really see you right now, if she can distinguish your face, tell you apart from Doyoung or WinWin or Miso.

“So don’t go back.” Doyoung’s words are simple, direct. “If you just want to stay home and take care of Mei, then that’s perfectly fine. She’s the most important job you can have, anyway. We’re here to make sure you and this little princess have a stable future.”

You nod. “Maybe when she’s older I’ll go back to work, but I think while she’s young, before she can go to school, I want to spend time with her, teach her.”

Doyoung smiles. “You’ll make her brave and smart. She’ll go to school and they won’t know what hit them. A tiny little sweet faced girl with a big personality, a big heart, and a brain to match. She’ll be the perfect combination of all her daddies.”

You laugh. You can see it now: a little girl with WinWin’s face in her little uniform and braided pigtails, walking into her first classroom with confidence, jabbering away and making friends, impressing teachers. You want to build Mei into a strong, confident, brave girl who’s intelligent and knows her own worth, who won’t let anyone put her down or make her feel small.

You can’t wait to meet her.

When Mei is one month old, WinWin accompanies you to the checkup appointment with the pediatrician. The appointment goes well, and WinWin makes it clear that he’s eager to be Mei’s dad, asking the doctor all kinds of questions about things that you didn’t even consider. He asks the doctor if she thinks it will confuse Mei if she hears multiple languages on a regular basis.

“Oh, no. Quite the opposite. Children raised in multilingual homes often benefit greatly. They can have improved concentration skills, are better at providing solutions, and generally perform better academically.” She smiles encouragingly. “But, out of curiosity, how many languages are we talking? Two? Three?”

You and WinWin look at each other.  

“Probably three,” you tell her. “Potentially four or five.”

Korean and Chinese and English you figure will primarily be spoken around her, but Japanese and Thai are also possibilities. You don’t even mention that Cantonese might occasionally be spoken around her as well. 

“Oh, well that is impressive.” She scribbles something on her clipboard. “I think little Mei will certainly benefit from that.”

When you’re leaving the doctor’s office, WinWin carries Mei’s little carrier. She’s awake and looking up at him, and he keeps speaking to her in Chinese using a cutesy tone. Though as soon as you’re outside, he looks up at you. “Are you hungry? I was thinking we could go grab something to eat?”

There’s a place right around the corner that WinWin knows, so that’s where you go. It’s been a while since you’ve been out on anything that seems like a date. The last time you really went out somewhere and did things with people was your baby shower, and that was three months ago. Your last date was before that, when Lucas took you out to dinner just days before he broke up with you, which is somewhat upsetting when you think about it. And you’ve gone to a few parks over the last few weeks, taking Mei out for some fresh air and sunlight with your various boyfriends, but none of those really counted as dates, so you’re excited when you get to sit down at a table with WinWin and Mei.

Even by the time you do get home afterwards, you’re still buzzing with happiness from how wonderfully the appointment had gone plus the lunch date afterwards, and how Mei didn’t start getting fussy until right as you were arriving home.

You’re just in a very good mood. While you nurse Mei, Xiaojun sits with you and tells you a dramatic retelling of his day with Hendery and YangYang. Renjun wanders into your room a bit later to hangout and hold Mei. The whole afternoon is just guys coming in and out of your room, and you’re feeling great and happy, and you’re feeling good enough that when Jungwoo and Johnny come in to interrupt you doing yoga (in an attempt to get your body as closely to how it was before the pregnancy), you don’t mind. You let them sit and watch. Johnny even helps you with a few poses, and Jungwoo lies down on the floor with you, but he puts Mei on his chest to give her a little bit of tummy time.

You’re in the midst of laughing with Jungwoo and Johnny when Doyoung steps into your doorway, knocks on the doorframe, and says, “We have a little problem.”

That happy little bubble you’ve been living in all day pops.

Doyoung summons a group meeting, so you and Jungwoo and everyone else who’s home descend to the living room. You bring Mei with you, apologizing to Renjun that you don’t want to leave her alone with him (not his fault, it’s just you being nervous being away from her). Not everyone is home, so Doyoung calls Taeyong, Kun, and Jaehyun who are all working and puts them on speaker so they can listen in.

You sit nervously in the big armchair. Ten squeezes in with you, and he convinces you to pass Mei over into Uncle Ten’s loving arms.

“What’s wrong, Doyoung?” You ask first once everyone’s gathered.

He sighs and holds up his phone, which has Twitter open on it. There’s a long thread of tweets, images and text, and you’re not sure what that’s all about, not until he says, “It’s amazing that it took fans this long to catch on.”

“What do you mean by that?” Jaehyun’s voice is staticky over the phonecall. “Caught on to what?”

“To us.” Doyoung explains. “Apparently, our girlfriend and WinWin and Mei were spotted out together today by a fan, and now the pictures are everywhere.”

WinWin swears under his breath. 

“But it’s not just that. It was at first.” Doyoung scrolls up to the top of the Twitter thread on his phone. “Some fans realized that they’ve seen her before, so there’s this thread and a whole bunch of others just full of photos of us and you, sweetheart. Going back ages. I’ve been reading comments, and people were saying that for a long time they just thought you were one of our managers or a staff member or something, but then others had their photos, had stories of times they’ve spotted us out with you. There was some fan who said she saw you out with Hendery and Jungwoo. 

“So now they’re pretty sure that you’re dating one of us, or secretly married to one of us, but they don’t know who. Until today, seeing you and Mei with WinWin, they think they’ve solved it all.” Doyoung rubs his hand over his face, clearly exasperated. “But others think differently, because you’ve been spotted out carrying Mei on your walks through the park with me, with Taeil, with Mark and Taeyong. Some fans are just generally pissed off about all of this.”

Everyone’s been staring at Doyoung or else looking down at their phones as they also search social media for all of these swirling rumors and gossip.

Taeil’s the first to sit forward, and he looks over at you. “I don’t think you should leave the house for a few days until this dies down. For your safety.”

You know he’s talking about their sasaengs. Somehow they’ve been lucky enough that sasaengs haven’t camped out in front of this house like you know they did at their apartments when you first met them. You’re sure that many of those photos in that thread Doyoung’s talking about were taken by sasaengs.

“What are we going to do?” Kun asks, his voice sounding echoey and very distant over the phone. 

“What can we do?” Yuta responds. “I say we just let it all die down, don’t acknowledge the rumors at all.”

Doyoung sighs heavily. “I don’t think we can really do that, hyung. I’m sure the company is going to want to talk to all of us about it. And we can’t just ignore it and pretend that we don’t know what they’re talking about because there is all of this photo evidence, many stories, there are videos, and apparently when Xiaojun did an Insta live last week, you could hear Mei crying in the background.”

“Just say it was Haechan,” Mark suggests. “Say he was acting like a baby.”

“Or we could just tell the truth,” Jaehyun says over the phone. 

Yuta rolls his eyes. “Yeah, but what part of the truth? That Mei is WinWin’s baby, or that literally the fourteen of us all had the same girlfriend and that for nine months didn’t know which of us was fathering her child? That part of the truth? I feel like our NCTzens would possibly explode. Imagine the chaos. We’d probably be forced to disband.”

“Obviously not that whole truth, dumbass.” Jaehyun retorts. 

Yuta starts to bicker back at him, but Taeyong’s voice speaks up loudly over the phone, cutting them both off. “We’re not our own PR team. This isn’t something that we have to address right now, so maybe we should at least wait until we’re all home and can talk about it together, right?”

Right.

But you decide to go on to bed. It’s late enough that you can go without drawing suspicion, and as you’ve got Mei comfy in her bed, you curl up in your bed and open Twitter on your phone.

Maybe it’s a bad idea to search up what fans are saying, but you can’t help it. Especially now when you see half of your boyfriends’ names trending along with NCT and some other things that you’re sure are related to this drama going on. It is somewhat disturbing to see this evidence that the fans are gathering against you, to see the nasty things that they’re saying--threats against you and you even see a few against your daughter that have you muffling your tears against your pillow--and you’re still looking at all of this in horror when the door of your room opens. 

A shadowy figure slips from the lit hallway outside into the dark of your bedroom. You hear the familiar footfalls, and when he falls into bed, it’s a comfortable and intimately familiar weight and heat as he rolls against your side.

“Are you okay?” Mark asks.

His feet bump against yours, and as his head edges onto your pillow, he sees what you’re looking at and sees the blue light of your screen reflecting off the wetness on your cheeks.

“No, that’s what we’re not going to do, okay?” Mark sits up and plucks your phone from your hand, rolls over to the far side of your bed, and sits your phone on the bedside table before he comes back. His thumbs are gentle when he wipes at your cheeks. His voice only sounds a little frustrated, more concerned than anything else as he questions, “Why were you looking at all that?” 

“I wanted to know what they’ve seen, what they had to say.” You sniffle and press your face into the pillow. “Your fans can be terrible.”

Mark sinks down beside you once more, and he places a soothing hand on your back, rubbing up and down your spine. “Listen, you and Mei are safe. If you think that we’d ever let them do anything to hurt either of you....” Mark’s cheek rests against your shoulder. “We’ll fix this. I know we will.”

You sigh shakily, and turn, wrapping yourself around Mark, squeezing him in a hug as you hide your face against his neck. He hugs you back just as tightly. 

It’s hours later, Mark has fallen asleep beside you, and his arm is still tucked under your head, his fingers on that hand are tangled in your hair as he’d fallen asleep gently massaging your scalp in an attempt to get you to fall asleep (which was unsuccessful). There’s a soft glow from the nightlight in the corner of the room, and by its light you’ve been watching Mark’s face, counting his eyelashes and his freckles and then counting his breaths, but you can’t calm your mind enough to slow down and fall asleep.

So you hear Mei waking up, hear her starting to cry. You know you need to get up, leave the nice comforting warmth of the bed, to go feed her, but all you want to do is just stay right there.

You squeeze your eyes shut even as her cries begin to build.

Mark’s sleeping like a rock, so he doesn’t stir. You press closer, press your face to his chest.

The bedroom door opens, and a sleepy Taeil with messy hair comes inside. You can just barely see him through your eyelashes; can see him looking at you and Mark, then his gaze sweeps across the room to the crib in the corner and Mei’s little pink face scrunched up as she cries.

He crosses quietly to the crib, shuffling barefooted, his sweatpants dragging along the floor like socks.

You can’t see him from this angle but you can hear as he shushes Mei, cooing and making soft noises to soothe her. You can hear the rustling as he picks her up, the creak of wood as he settles down in the rocking chair. She keeps crying though, no matter how desperately Taeil tries to soothe her, and after a few minutes of that, you sit up in bed and look over at him.

He’s rocking in the chair, trying to get her to take the pacifier, but she keeps spitting it back out when it’s not giving her what she really wants.

You sigh and push out of bed. Taeil looks up at you.

“Unless you’ve got tits, Taeil, I don’t think she’s gonna calm down for you.” You stand beside him, push your fingers into his hair.

“I thought you were asleep,” he whispers back to you. He doesn’t look away from Mei, just keeps looking down at her puckered face.

Your fingers slide down from his hair to the back of his neck, resting gently there. “I can’t sleep. I just keep thinking about what your fans are saying.” 

Taeil looks up at you then, a frown drawing his eyebrows tightly together. “You don’t need to look at what they’re saying. Our managers have already said that we’re going to have a big PR meeting probably tomorrow so our company can put out a statement. But you don’t need to worry about anything. You’re safe here.”

Mei lets out another piercingly loud cry from such a small baby, and you reach for her. Taeil hands her up to you easily, then he stands, gesturing for you to sit in the chair. You don’t even think about it as you move your top to bare your breast for Mei to latch onto, but Taeil makes a short noise, and when you look up at him, he’s looking away, rubbing at the back of his head like he’s embarrassed.

You try to hide your smile. “You’re all so funny about this, you know. Half of you get embarrassed to look at my boobs now. You’ve seen them before, Taeil.”

“I know that.” He mumbles, and you swear if there were a bit more light in the room, you’d be able to see that he was blushing. “I just have really been missing you lately, you know? It’s been a while.” 

Taeil tries his best to keep his eyes on your face when he turns to you then, but you watch as his gaze inevitably falls to your breast. But there his gaze seems to soften at the sight of Mei’s dark little head nestled there.

Taeil sinks to his knees. “It’s all different now, you know? She’s here now, and she’s so tiny and perfect. Everything’s just.... centered differently.”

You know exactly what he means. Before Mei there were so many things--things to do, places to go, people to go see and talk to, and meaningless things to fill your time with, boyfriends to go fuck around with--and now there’s Mei and she’s just got you so wrapped up with her, none of those things feel like they matter. It’s just you and her, like your whole little world. 

“I don’t think it really matters that WinWin’s her real dad.” Taeil reaches one finger up and strokes the back of Mei’s tiny hand. “Isn’t there a saying that it takes a village to raise a child? Well, here we are. Your whole village to help raise Mei. Our Mingmei. I know that it’s not going to be easy to be here sometimes, and that there’s no way of telling what the future holds for all of us, but I want to be here. I love you. I adore Mei.” Taeil’s expression is so soft as he says that; his eyes are moist looking at you and your daughter then, and after another moment he sinks back to sit on the floor, and he turns his face away, hiding as he tries to hastily wipe away his tears.

“I don’t want you to go anywhere either, Taeil. I’ve said it before, but if Mei could have all of you as her father, that’s what I would wish.” You smile down at her. “Imagine having a dozen fathers to show up and be there any time she needs support, protection, encouragement.”

Taeil sits up then, resting a hand on your knee reassuringly. “We will be here to protect her. Especially right now.” He shakes his head, his brows set in determination. “After you came up here, Doyoung was showing us some more of what they were saying, and I swear to you, we will not let any of them near you. Ever. But there were some great things people were saying.”

You’d seen a few of those during your deep dive. Fans saying that you seemed lovely--both visually in the pictures, and then also the few fans that had stories about seeing you out with the boys had said that you had sounded sweet--and fans defending you, defending the boys, reporting accounts threatening violence toward you or Mei. There were fans gushing over the boys as fathers, fans going wild thinking about aesthetic baby pics that some of them might post on their Instagrams. 

There were definitely some wonderful things you’d seen, but it was hard to focus on those when there was so much negativity inspiring fear and anxiety and terrible things in you. 

By the time Mei finishes nursing, even you are finally starting to feel tired. Taeil takes her from you as you attempt to pull your shirt back into place, and he paces around the room, singing quietly, patting her back to burp her. You just sit there in the rocking chair, rocking back and forth, your eyes feeling heavier and heavier as you watch Taeil and listen to him.

You don’t even realize that you’ve dipped off, not until there’s fingers on your shoulder and on your cheek, a quiet voice calling your name. 

“Hmm?” You open your eyes.

Taeil, smiling sleepily too. “You should get in bed, my love. Mei’s fine,” he explains when you sit up suddenly and look around. “She fell asleep, so I put her back down. Come on, into bed.” He helps you cross the few feet to the bed, his hand in yours, and once you’ve slid back in between the covers, your head once more on the pillow, Taeil smooths hand over your hair, and leans in to whisper, “Goodnight,” and he places a loving kiss on your forehead. 

You’re asleep before you can remember to mumble a sweet “goodnight” back to him.

Maybe it was a mistake telling your boyfriends that the doctor had approved and even encouraged the use of multiple languages with Mei. Because after you tell them that, then you rarely hear the Chinese members speak in anything other than Chinese to her. Yuta almost exclusively reads and sings and speaks to her in Japanese. Johnny, Mark, and even sometimes Jaehyun and Ten speak English to Mei. You even catch Xiaojun singing in Cantonese to her.

Mei looks up at him, waving her arms and legs, cooing happily as he leans on the side of her crib to sing to her.

“What are you doing?” You ask, sliding up beside him, one arm curling around his waist, your cheek resting on his shoulder. “She’s going to be so confused when she’s older if you speak to her in Mandarin and Cantonese, Jun.” You brush your lips in a light kiss to his exposed shoulder.

“She’s going to be smart,” Xiaojun responds quickly. “Going to speak five languages by the time she’s five, and put all of us to shame with her brain.” You feel him kiss you on the top of your head. “Were you still on for coming with WinWin, Ten, and I later?”

It’s been a few weeks since the rumors first struck. Their PR team put out a statement, claiming that you were just a staff member and close friend of the group who happened to have a baby. A lot of fans had backed off, but you were still a little wary about leaving the house unless it was necessary. You’d only left for appointments, and then to go meet up with your parents once for them to fawn over their granddaughter.

“I don’t know, Xiaojun. Your fans are still watching us.” You step away from him.

Lately there’s been a heightened presence of sasaengs around the boys. You’d even noticed one following you on your way to the last appointment you’d had with your doctor—one where you’d been cleared to return to work (if you wanted that) and to resume sexual activities (though she did advise that you take it easy, so no rough sex, no orgies)—and you’d been lucky to find that an old friend of yours was acting as a courier, and he was in the doctor’s office dropping something off right as you were leaving. He’d walked out with you, and though he was working, he did walk with you and make sure that the sasaeng stopped following.

Xiaojun turns away from the crib to follow you, his fingers catching on your sleeve, sliding down over your hand. “Hey, babe. Look, I know that lately we’ve been under more surveillance than normal. I’ve seen what they’re saying online, people still doubting the story that our team put out, but that doesn’t mean that you need to withdraw from us.” Xiaojun strokes the back of your hand until you turn it over and he laces his fingers through yours. “Come out with us tonight. Let Kun or Jaehyun or one of them watch Mei, and come have fun.”

You glance uncertainly over at Mei’s crib. “I don’t know....”

You haven’t left Mei yet, not for any extended period of time, not for longer than a shower or a quick snack in the kitchen along with a handjob for Johnny. Leaving her for two or three hours, that just doesn’t sound like something you’re ready for yet.

“I’ll think about it.” You tell him.

Xiaojun lets out a happy sound, and then he cups your face between his hands, and pulls you into a quick kiss. “Please say yes. We’re just going to see a movie. And whoever watches her will have to deal with Jaehyun probably hovering protectively right at his shoulder the whole time. She’ll be fine.” He pecks you on the lips again, and this time you twist your fingers in the bottom of his top, lean in on your toes, and kiss him again.

Xiaojun makes a pleasant sound, his fingers slide into your hair, angling your mouth against his. You want to push this a little further, want to feel his bare skin against yours, feel the pleasure that you haven’t felt for weeks and weeks now.

He smiles into the kiss as you push your hands up under his top, moving up his chest. He almost giggles when you feel up his pecs. Xiaojun pulls back just a little, pecking you on the lips playfully amidst his giggles, before pressing back in fully.

You can do this, you tell yourself. Your doctor cleared you for sex again, and you know that Xiaojun will be gentle with you, that he’s a good choice to be your first time again. This will be fine.

When you drop your hands from his chest, slipping your fingertips beneath the waistband of his pants, Xiaojun slows down as if he’s a little confused by you initiating this. And when you touch his dick, he backs off and his eyebrows draw together in confusion. “Are you... Are you sure?”

“Mmmh.” You nod. “My doctor finally cleared me. I’m good as long as we take it a little slow.”

Xiaojun’s smile returns, and he cocks his head to the side a little and looks you up and down. “So I should treat you like a virgin, right? Take it easy and slow?”

You whine. “Don’t tease me, Xiaojun.”

“No, I won’t.” He kisses you sweetly. “But are you sure? You want to do this now? Here?”

Mei’s just right over in the corner, unknowingly looking up at the mobile spinning over her head, unaware of what’s going on here. It does feel a little bit weird, but she won’t know. She won’t have a clue what’s going on.

“I’m sure.” You nod. “Well, I’m sure that I at least want to see how far we can go. I just,” you sigh, “feel like we’ll be interrupted by one thing or another. A baby, a boyfriend, discomfort. Something. But yes.”

 “We’ll figure it out.” Xiaojun bounces a little eagerly and excitedly on his toes. “God, I really want you.”

You kind of love that Xiaojun doesn’t rush you at all even after he says that. He doesn’t push you to hurry into anything, is content with just lying in your bed and making out, letting your hands wander over his bare arms, delving into his hair, slipping through the large cutouts at his sides to scrape your nails lightly over his back or his abs or his chest. He doesn’t try to get you to touch him lower down his body even when you can feel how hard he is against your thigh. Xiaojun lets you take it all at your own pace, lets you pull his hands under your shirt.

You’re feeling more confident with your body now than you were even just a few weeks ago. You’ve looked at mommy forums online, and they say that it’s not uncommon to feel negatively about your body for quite a while after birth, but you’re happier now.

So when Xiaojun touches your belly, as he lifts your shirt up over your chest, you don’t feel embarrassed at all. You feel the heat of lust burning in your belly, your skin flushed with heat even as cool air touches your chest.

“Fuck, so pretty. I’ve missed you like this,” Xiaojun groans, breaking away from your lips to kiss your neck, then skipping down to your chest, the mound of your tits in your bra. His thigh slips between your knees, his lips dance over your chest, and you can’t help the breathy little sounds that spill from your lips.

You clap a hand over your mouth.

“Don’t be shy,” Xiaojun chuckles. “You make such pretty noises, babe. Let me hear them.”

You obediently drop your hand, sliding your fingers into his hair instead as Xiaojun keeps kissing your chest, and his hand finally slips down into your panties.

“Ah!” The little gasped sound escapes your lips when Xiaojun’s finger glides over your clit.

He grinds subtly against your thigh, and moans softly, lifting his head from your chest and kisses you again.

It’s been so long since you were touched like this, that it’s literally seconds before Xiaojun is smirking at just how wet you’ve grown. He sticks with touching your clit, kissing away all the sweet sounds you’re making, until you start moving with him, rocking your hips up and looking for more than just the touches to your clit.

Xiaojun moves down to kiss at your neck, and as he does that, he slips a finger inside you.

You moan loudly, your hand flying down to grip at Xiaojun’s forearm, not to stop him but just to hold on to him as he fingers you. It doesn’t hurt or anything, it’s a bit uncomfortable after everything your vagina went through just a little over a month and a half ago. But it still feels so good.

Your fingernails dig into his skin just as his teeth nip at your throat, his cock rubs against your thigh, and Xiaojun makes a muffled sound against your neck. You let go of his wrist, snaking your hand inside his pants to touch his cock, to help him feel good too.

“Wait,” he mumbles, “I feel like this should be about you.”

“Very chivalrous of you, but I kinda want you to enjoy this too.” You try to keep going, but Xiaojun stops, sits up, and pulls his hand entirely out of your pants, then grabs your wrist and removes your hand from his pants as well. You pout up at him.

He looks away from you, up at the ceiling. “Please don’t give me that look.”

“Then come touch me some more.” You reach for his waistband.

Xiaojun bats your hand away, and moves down the bed. “I’m going to, but, babe, I want the focus to be on you. I don’t care about me right now because I guarantee I had an orgasm more recently than you. So, please, just let me make you feel good first.”

You really can’t argue with that.

“Okay. Fine, do with me what you will.” You spread out your arms and legs, dramatically going limp.

Xiaojun rolls his eyes affectionately. “Can I take your pants off?”

You lift up your hips to help him slide your pants off, then he kneels up over you, pulling the shirt up over your head.

He sinks back down to sit on his heels and drinks in the sight of you before him.

You wonder if he’s thinking of the last time he had you like this, because you know that you are. It’s been months and months since the last time that you and Xiaojun were alone together like this, taking the time to appreciate and take each other apart. It was shortly after you learned you were pregnant, you’d spent the whole morning in bed together, getting each other off; you’d spent at least half an hour kissing his entire body, sucking his cock, praising his body.

“Fuck, I love you,” he sighs, and falls over you again, his body covering yours as he captures you in a kiss once more. Xiaojun slips a hand under your back, and you feel his fingers fumble for a second or two with the clasp on the back of your bra before it releases. You sigh in comfortable relief, and reach up to pull the straps down your arms, freeing yourself of the bra entirely.

You hold your breath as Xiaojun starts to kiss down your body—trailing burning kisses down your throat, between your breasts, down your belly, and at last he reaches the edge of your panties.

His nose nudges against your clit through the material, and when Xiaojun places the gentlest of kisses right over your pussy, your breath catches in your throat before shaking its way free. He lifts his head so he can see your face as he finally removes the last piece of clothing on your body.

The last time you were this naked in front of one of your boyfriends was when you showered with Jaehyun before you found out WinWin was Mei’s father. Almost two months ago.

When you feel his breath on your bare, wet pussy, all you can do is close your eyes, bite your bottom lip, and pray that he’s about to eat you out. You want so badly to really, truly get your pussy eaten the way that hasn’t been done in a long time.

And right as Xiaojun grants your nonverbal wish, his tender lips kissing your clit, a new voice of doubt enters your mind.

What if you look different down there? Or smell or taste different?

You haven’t really taken much time to pay attention to if giving birth altered how your pussy looks. You have no idea if you’re going to taste different. You’re only kinda sure that you don’t smell different. And what if it doesn’t feel right when he eats you out anymore? You’ve read that sex might feel different after the baby, and you’ve always loved Xiaojun eating you out. Him and WinWin are two of your favorites when it comes to oral.

You just start doubting all of this, thinking and worrying, so even as Xiaojun’s doing his best down there, you’re not giving him any reactions. Not until he pulls back and looks up at your face to ask, “Does it not feel good?”

“I’m sorry.” You groan, rubbing a hand over your face. “I think I’m just... thinking too much.”

“Relax.” Xiaojun puts a hand on your thigh, massaging gently. “You don’t need to think about anything, don’t worry or stress.”

He’s probably right. You don’t need to worry about any of that stuff. He’s clearly not turned off by what he’s faced with down there right now, as he’s already diving back in to sweep his tongue against you. You just need to relax, to sink into the pleasure of what he’s doing, and forget everything else but just that.

Easier said than done, honestly, but you do try.

Xiaojun sets to work on fucking you open on his middle finger again, his tongue at your clit. Slowly, it does start to feel really good; you get out of your mind and just relax into the pleasure, your body taking over, moving with Xiaojun. A second finger joins the first, and soon he’s even got a third finger pumping inside you, his lips sucking at your clit.

You twist your head to the side and bite at your upper arm to keep your moans in check as your orgasm quickly rises. Your chest heaves, whines leaking out even though you try to keep quiet, and Xiaojun lifts his head.

“You look so sexy right now. Are you going to cum on my fingers, babe?” Xiaojun moans a little, sitting up on his knees so he can kiss at your belly, then a little higher up your chest. His lips brush against your breasts, and you shudder from the small burst of pleasure that gives you. His hips dip down, hard cock grinding against your leg, and his three fingers push in deep inside you, stretching you so your pussy really feels it in the best way.

“Fuck, Dejun. Deeper.” Your hands fly to his shoulders, fingertips digging in. “I want you to make me....”

He drops back down, face dipping once more between your legs. With his free hand he pushes at your thigh, trying to get you to spread your legs even farther apart. His tongue flicks over your clit, fingers pressing inside you. The knot in your belly grows tighter, the warm tingling of pleasure building higher and higher, and you feel so close, your body growing hotter, orgasm just within reach the air itself feeling like it’s sparkling around you.

Xiaojun sucks your clit between his lips, his fingers press in right against your G-spot, and just like that your orgasm unleashes.

Your toes curl, body arching up, hips rolling against his mouth, and the guttural sighs and moans that leave your mouth are barely muffled as you bite at your lip in an attempt to keep them in. Your chest rises and falls and feels damp, your whole body warm and shaky and you feel like you’re sweating, but it’s different.

Xiaojun licks you through the throes of ecstasy, only backing off and pulling his fingers out when your hips have eased back down against the bed and you’re whining, thighs twitching on either side of his ears.

And it’s then that you open your eyes from where they were squeezed shut.

Xiaojun’s face is the first thing you see, his wondrous gaze locked on your chest. “Is that your milk?” He asks. And for the first time you realize that your chest doesn’t just feel damp, doesn’t just feel sweaty from that mind-blowing orgasm, your breasts have leaked out breastmilk during that orgasm.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry.” You cover your face in embarrassment. “Oh my god, I just, god, didn’t know that would happen.”

Xiaojun just laughs. “It’s fine. It’s kinda hot, honestly.”

“Right, my boobs squirting is very attractive.” You can’t convince yourself to pull your hands away from your face. Not until you feel Xiaojun’s tongue on your skin. “You are not licking up my breast milk, are you?” You lift your head to look down at him.

Xiaojun freezes and makes eye contact with you. His tongue hasn’t yet reached where your breast milk has leaked down to. So he pulls his tongue back inside his mouth. “I wouldn’t be opposed to it. It’s just breastmilk, right? What’s the possible harm?”

It’s not like you’ve never heard of this before. You’d read in forums and stuff about mother’s tasting their own breastmilk, fathers tasting their wife or girlfriend’s breastmilk. You’d even read about someone letting their friends, brothers, and more try it. You think that one’s a bit strange, but you can’t deny that you had tasted a little bit of yours yourself one morning out of curiosity. And while you were pregnant Jungwoo had confessed his interest in it.

You just hadn’t expected Xiaojun to be into this.

“I mean, you can if you want to, I guess.” You drop your head back down onto the bed.

Xiaojun’s tongue touches your skin again, and it feels so nice. And then his mouth is on your tits, gentle lips and tongue lapping at the spilled breastmilk. Your pussy starts to throb again with arousal as Xiaojun’s tongue races right up to the edge of your nipple, and then he stops.

You groan and lift your head to look at him again, and just as your eyes meet, Xiaojun flicks his tongue over your nipple, lapping at the damp peak.

It’s certainly not a whimper that leaves your lips.

Xiaojun laughs, and then he does it all over again; his warm tongue tracing over your chest on the other side, though this time he takes his time with your breast, and upon reaching your nipple, he closes his lips briefly around the nipple to flick his tongue at the hardened bud. It’s weird feeling it like this, so different from before when they would lick and suck at your nipples during sex, but also a lot different too than when Mei does it.

You feel like you should not be deriving sexual pleasure from one of your boyfriends basically nursing from you—breastmilk flowing from your nipple into his mouth—but Xiaojun doesn’t stop. In fact, he also seems to be getting off from it. His hips roll against the bed, grinding down into the mattress. He moans, brings one hand up to the side of your breast, gently massaging as he continues with this.

“Fuck me,” you sigh, a plea and a sound of pleasure. And Xiaojun obeys, pulling away from you just long enough to push his pants down and kick them off the foot of the bed, and then he’s back, hips cradled between your thighs. You knot your fingers in the front of his shirt, “Now.”

Xiaojun is gentle and slow, tenderly stroking your thigh as he enters you. He leaves little kisses on your throat and your chest, and it’s only when he starts shallowly rocking into you that he lowers his mouth to your chest and once again starts laving his attention on your tits.

It’s not terrible, just a little uncomfortable. There’s a dull ache that’s not pleasant at all as he thrusts into you, and even though you can tell Xiaojun’s holding back, just trying to make you feel good. And you can feel it—the pleasure is right there through a thin veil of discomfort, and you know if you can just get past that then this will be great. Sweet love-making with Xiaojun would be perfect.

You slide your hands over his back, dipping your fingers beneath his shirt to scrape lightly over his shoulders, and Xiaojun moans. He loses a little bit of restraint, thrusting deeper and a little harder, and there you find the pleasure.

“More,” you moan.

Xiaojun nuzzles against your breast, his lips closed around your nipple as he moans, tasting you on his tongue, feeling you warm and wet around his cock. You’re not surprised that he might not last long. Not surprised when he moans again and draws his hips back, cock leaving you empty as he cums across your belly, still suckling at your tit.

You cradle a hand against the back of his head, your eyes flutter closed, and you think you could let this sweet pleasure overwhelm you again, take you into another orgasm, to peaceful bliss.

The door opens suddenly (why do they never seem to know how to knock when you’re in the middle of something?) and there, framed in the doorway, stand Jungwoo and WinWin.

Xiaojun lifts his head slowly, his lips releasing your tit as he turns his wide-eyed gaze to his members. There’s a small hint of breastmilk on his bottom lip.

There’s no possible way to deny what just happened.

For one thing, you’re lying fully nude beneath Xiaojun. His face was just buried against your chest. Both of you are fully flushed in the face. He looks dazed, horny, and (as you just noted) there’s breastmilk on his bottom lip.

WinWin and Jungwoo stare at both of you in silence for a long moment that finally breaks when WinWin shakes his head and marches inside, heading straight over to the crib.

Mei’s still happily oblivious to what’s been going on. WinWin scoops her up, cradling her in his arms, and as he turns to face you on the bed, he shields her little face from the sight of you and Xiaojun with his hand. His voice is somewhat amused, somewhat scandalized, as he asks, “In front of our daughter?”

Xiaojun rolls to the edge of the bed and sits upright, tries to cover up with the edge of the duvet cover, and then folds his hands in his lap. But when he notices that Jungwoo’s staring at him—most notably, staring at his mouth—he quickly wipes at his lips and chin, smearing away the last of the evidence of what he’d just been doing.

You sit up as well, dragging a blanket over your lap, folding your arms in front of your breasts. “In my defense, there’s absolutely no way that she knows what just happened.”

WinWin shakes his head, trying to look disapproving, but you can see the corner of his mouth turning up in a smile as he looks back down at Mei. “So does this mean that you’re cleared again?” He asks. “Doctor says you can have sex?”

You nod, looking around at him, at the back of Xiaojun’s head where he’s facing away from you, at Jungwoo still framed in the doorway and gazing in awe at you and Xiaojun. “Yeah, just nothing really intense or rough. So no orgies for a while. Her actual words.”

“Good to know.” WinWin wiggles his fingers in front of Mei’s face, and she knocks around one of her little fists, as if she’s trying to grasp his fingers in front of her. He can’t pull his eyes away from her as he says, “I’m pretty sure I owe you some kind of great thank you for this gift right here.”

He starts walking toward the door again, and Jungwoo even steps out of the way to let him pass, so you ask, “Where are you going with her?”

“I’m going to spend a little quality time with my daughter,” WinWin says, and if life were a cartoon then his pupils would be heart-shaped as Mei grips onto one of his fingers right then. “You and Xiaojun can finish up here. Clean up before we go to the movie tonight.” His gaze finally lifts from your daughter, flicking in Xiaojun’s direction.

Xiaojun starts to say something in response, but WinWin’s already ducked out of sight of the doorway, leaving Jungwoo still standing there.

He doesn’t move, even as Xiaojun stands and starts to gather his pants and underwear from where he’s kicked them. Jungwoo just stares at you, at your bare tits. You can kind of guess what he’s thinking, and right as Xiaojun’s shimmying his pants back into place, Jungwoo asks, “Does it taste alright?”

Xiaojun freezes, glancing between you and Jungwoo.

You don’t really care what his answer is. It’s breastmilk, it’s not meant for him anyway, so you don’t think his opinion on it really matters. Instead of intently listening to him, you climb out of bed, turning your back on your boyfriends to get dressed.

“It’s not bad. Wouldn’t be my first choice of drink, but I’m not going to pretend like I wouldn’t definitely do that again.” Xiaojun sounds so pleased with himself as he says it, and you roll your eyes affectionately, carrying your clothes in your arms into the bathroom to shower, leaving Xiaojun and Jungwoo out there to discuss your breasts and your milk. You need to shower and get ready for the first date you’ll have in months.

Once the others realize that you’re open to having sex again, you’ve got a parade of boyfriends trying to get between your legs again. Or at least, after hearing about what WinWin and Jungwoo had walked in on, they keep asking to taste your breastmilk.

Self-consciously, you cross your arms over your chest as Mark’s folded himself onto the end of your bed and just asked you in a very serious voice, “So can I have a taste too?”

“Mark, shut the fuck up.” Yuta’s sitting right beside you, holding Mei who’s just looking up at him and smiling. She’s been doing that a lot lately, making this absolutely adorable smile that has every single person in this house wrapped around her tiny fingers. “If you want to taste it just go get in the minifridge.” Yuta jerks his head over to the set up you’ve got tucked in the corner beside the rocking chair, now that you’re pumping milk just so you don’t have to get your tits out every time that Mei cries for food.

“Do not drink Mei’s supply, Mark Lee.” You get up, and as you walk toward the end of the bed, you reach up to ruffle your fingers through Mark’s hair. “You boys are all so weird. Every one that’ve had a taste say it’s weird, so why do you keep asking. You don’t even eat yogurt, Mark, what do you think breastmilk is going to do to you?”

Yuta snickers.

Mark laughs too, and you smile as you rest your hand on his head. He tilts back to meet your gaze.

And then you hear it.

Your head snaps toward Yuta and Mei. You feel Mark go still beneath you. Yuta’s frozen in surprise.

You hear it again.

“Is she laughing?” You climb back onto the bed, crawling up toward the head.

Mei’s tiny little body, her smiling face. She’s laughing. And if you’ve ever had a favorite sound, it is this. Your daughter’s little giggle. She’s three and a half months old, and this is the funniest thing in her whole life.

You’re still fawning over her and the cute sounds she makes when WinWin gets home.

He always comes up to see Mei first thing when he gets home, even if it’s super late, even if he’s already extremely tired. Even if he’s fresh off a fifteen hour long shoot, he pops through the door of your bedroom.

“Sicheng!” You look up, unable to lose your grin. “Babe! Come here! She laughed!”

He looks confused for just a split second, and then Haechan (who had come into the room looking for Mark) does something and Mei laughs again.

WinWin’s face goes soft with surprise and awe, and then he lights up. Yuta’s still holding her, but he gives her up easily when WinWin makes grabby hands at his daughter. WinWin immediately hugs her and you can see Mei smiling like the happiest little baby.

For the first time since you saw her, right now as you look at the way she’s looking at her father, you realize that Mei is like a real little human. Like, on some level you’ve known that this whole time. You’ve known it since you first felt her move inside you, since you heard her first cry, since you spent all night watching her breathe.

After a little while, the others drift away, making excuses to leave, and then it’s just you and WinWin with your daughter. You scoot close beside him so you can rest your head on his shoulder, looking down at Mei cradled in his arms. Her eyelids are growing heavy, a pacifier between her lips now.

“Sometimes, when I first wake up in the morning,” WinWin says in a hushed tone, “Sometimes I think that this has all just been a dream. That I’m going to roll over, get up, and we’re going to be back where we were a year ago, before we even knew you were pregnant, and in that moment after just waking up, my heart drops. And I think that it was such a good dream.” He sighs.

Mei’s eyes fall shut, and WinWin looks down at her.

“I can’t imagine my life without her.” WinWin admits. “I hope you know that. The day I got that test result, best day of my life. I just.... I can’t even describe....”

“I understand.” You sit up a bit and kiss his cheek. “And I’m happy you’re her dad. I don’t know if I’ve ever actually said those words to you. But you’re so good at this.”

“So you’re saying I’m the best boyfriend?” WinWin smiles over at you, and judging by the way that his gaze briefly flicks past your face, over your shoulder toward where the door to your bedroom is, you assume one of the others has come to call, and WinWin’s looking to irritate whoever it is. He meets your gaze again as he says, “You’re saying that all along you wished I would be the dad, and you were just playing along with Jaehyun’s fantasies of him potentially being the dad.”

You look over and see Jaehyun leaning in the doorway, arms folded across his chest. 

Honestly your mouth waters at the sight. He looks like he’s ready for climbing into bed and staying there. Shirtless and wearing sweatpants, hair pushed back with a headband. 

“I’m glad Mei’s your daughter, WinWin. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to make Jaehyun a daddy too.” You trace your gaze down the length of Jaehyun’s body, barely able to contain yourself. 

“Alright,” WinWin groans. “I guess that’s my cue to take our daughter and go. You look like you’re about to jump him, baby.”

“You don’t have to go.” You kneel up on your bed when WinWin stands up to go.

He shakes his head. “I’m not staying here with her while you eye-fuck Jaehyun.” He looks the other man up and down. “Have fun. Looks like you could both use it.” WinWin pats Jaehyun on the shoulder as they pass each other, and you watch WinWin leaving the room, holding Mei to his shoulder, kissing her head softly.

The softness you feel at that sight wars entirely with the lust you feel when Jaehyun slinks into your bed.

One knee lands between yours, a hand to your shoulder gently presses you back, and then Jaehyun’s over top of you, his lips press against yours. It feels so good to just kiss him, to feel his body on yours, all heat and hard planes. You love the soft little grunt of pleasure he makes against your lips when you trail a hand down his chest, fingers brushing over his nipple. You love the amused sound of surprise he makes when you suddenly push him over, rolling him beneath you.

Jaehyun’s hair’s grown long over these last several weeks, and now it flares out on the bed in a not-entirely-flattering manner. But you sit on his hips, reach forward to pluck the headband from his hair, and you toss it aside so you can run your fingers freely through his hair as you sink back in to kiss him some more.

“Did you mean what you said?” Jaehyun moans a few moments later as you begin to helplessly shift your hips. “About wanting to make me a daddy too?”

“Mmmh.” You kiss down his throat. “I would gladly give you a baby, I think. You clearly want one all your own.”

Jaehyun puts a hand to your shoulder, applying gentle pressure to get you to stop for just a moment. “Hey, look at me.”

You lift your head from his throat.

When Jaehyun’s eyes are looking right into yours, he says, “I want you to know that I am perfectly happy with Mei as my daughter. You know that, right?” You start to sink back down to get back to what you were doing, but Jaehyun catches your chin between his fingers. “I don’t want you to think that you, like, owe me a biological baby, okay? I know I always talk about this breeding kink thing, but in the end it’s just that, just a kinky thing. Of course, I would love to have a baby with you, but I don’t want you to feel obligated, okay? Tell me you know that.”

“I know, Jae.” You peck him on the lips. “But I want to make you happy too. And I don’t think I want to stop with just one kid. Especially when I see how you all dote on her. You’re all really amazing dads.”

Jaehyun chuckles, shaking his hand still holding your chin a little. “Don’t you miss our days of doting on you? Spoilt baby.” He flips things back over, sweeping your hands up over your head, pinning your wrists against the mattress. “Want me to spoil you again, princess?”

Warmth blooms through you, tingling down to your fingertips and toes as Jaehyun looks at you and talks to you like that. His hand dives under your shirt, pushing it higher up your chest until your bra is exposed; one flick of his wrist and the nursing bra you’re wearing falls apart, and your breasts are freed for him.

“Jaehyun, please.” Your breathy whine does exactly what you want.

Jaehyun, with one hand still pinning your wrists above your head, lowers his mouth to your breast. His other hand dips inside the shorts you’re wearing, inside your panties too. You gasp and arch into his touch as he grazes your clit. So enamored are you by the things he’s making you feel, that you don’t notice at first when he removes his hand from your wrist. It’s only as you feel your shorts and panties being tugged down that you realize your hands are free, but you leave them together above your head as Jaehyun pulls his mouth from you and shimmies your shorts away.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy.” Jaehyun sinks down low, lying on his belly between your legs. His hands press against your thighs, getting you to spread open a little farther. He leans up to kiss your belly just below your navel, right where the butterflies are going wild in your gut.

Sure, Xiaojun ate you out when you had sex with him, and you’ve fucked a couple of the others since that, but you haven’t had Jaehyun’s tongue on you in what feels like ages. Definitely for several months. So seeing him between your legs like this has really stirred you up, and you can feel yourself dripping more just thinking about his tongue and sweet lips on your pussy.

“Gonna make you cum until you can’t take anymore.” Jaehyun murmurs, kissing lower, his breath fanning over your wetness. “I love spoiling you, baby. Just let me know if it gets to be too much.”

And then there he is, fingers spreading your labia apart to give him direct access to suck your clit between his lips. You can’t stand how well Jaehyun knows you, how he knows exactly every move to make right now to get you to cum quickest. He buries his face against you, eating you out with such intensity and devotion that you’re lightheaded even before your first orgasm crashes over you. And it doesn’t stop there. Waves of pleasure as Jaehyun keeps licking your pussy, fucking you with his tongue, making vibrations to carry you through it by moaning as you drip on his tongue.

When Jaehyun sharply sucks your clit back into his mouth after that second orgasm, you squeeze your thighs around his head, and you whine, “Too much, Jae. Back off.”

He does slowly pull himself up onto his knees, lifting a hand to drag it back across his mouth, though he still licks his lips again.

“Good, princess? You only came twice. Don’t you want more?” As he shifts a little, you notice the tent in the front of his sweatpants. Immediately you want to offer to jerk him off or blow him, but you know that Jaehyun is just as likely to turn that down, to go shower and take care of himself instead, so you entice him the only way that you know for certain will have him staying.

You spreak your legs apart again. “I’m not finished. I want you inside me. Told you I want to have your baby too, didn’t I?”

“Stop. This is about you. Not me.” Jaehyun says, but he’s already got a hand on your hip, is already rolling you onto your belly. “Want to get on your knees, precious?”

You lift your ass up, cheek still against the bed, and Jaehyun slicks his fingers against your pussy, giving you just his fingertips before they disappear again, his fingers damp on your hips instead. You bite your lip to hold in the pathetic whimper that you almost made as you grind back against his fingers, pressing back until you feel the soft material covering his thighs bumping against your bare skin. His erection fits against your ass.

“Ah, shit.” Jaehyun moans, his hips pushing forward involuntarily.

“I need you, Jaehyun. I’ve missed your cock. It’s been so long since I had you inside me, remember?” You’re sure you’re creating a damp spot on the front of his pants, continuing to grind back against his erection. “Please fuck me, Jae. Please, Daddy?”

Jaehyun’s not always big on the daddy kink thing. That’s mostly Kun, occasionally Doyoung when he’s really feeling it. But from time to time, you’ve called Jaehyun daddy, and he’s loved it. Just as he does now.

You can feel him fumbling quickly with his pants, pushing them down around his thighs, his hands going back to your ass, thumbs spreading your cheeks so he can see as his desperately hard cock presses against your entrance and then as he pushes inside.

Jaehyun moans, swearing and sounding so lovely as he feels your warm vagina around him for the first time since the beginning of the year, like eight months almost. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good around me.”

“Yeah, Daddy?” You turn your head to the side, trying to get a look at Jaehyun’s face. “You missed my pussy?”

“Haven’t we all?” His hands slip from your ass to your hips, holding tightly as he starts thrusting into you. “Heard you keep telling most of them no when they come drooling after you, baby. Waiting for someone special? Only want Daddy’s cock to fill you up?”

He’s mostly right. Ever since Xiaojun, you’ve messed around with several of them. Johnny had come to you begging for attention as the one handjob you’d given him had been distracted and hurried. Kun and you had had a quick roll around the other morning, which ended with his fingers inside you and your hand down his pants. There was the moment when Jungwoo had sat there watching you try to nurse Mei, but when it turned out that she wasn’t hungry although your tits were hurting with the need to get the milk out, and he’d eagerly volunteered to help you with that instead of you having to sit there with the breast pump which was just annoying to have to deal with. You’d sat in his lap with his face buried against your tits, and after he’d had his fill, looking dazed and horny, you laid back on the bed for him so he could jerk off over your chest before licking it clean again.

For the most part, you’ve not engaged in actual penetrative sex with any of the guys since Xiaojun, but a couple weeks after that, you did share a single glass of wine with Doyoung, and it went straight to your head, making you feel all giddy and buzzy, so when Doyoung got you to your feet to go bed, you’d dragged him into a kiss. The kiss also went straight to your head, pulling and tugging Doyoung all the way into your bedroom with you, through the bathroom door, into the shower. It felt so good to have him in you again, moving against you, pinning you against the cool tile wall of the shower, water racing down your bodies and streaming between your lips as you kissed.

You’d had sex with Yuta too, convincing him to stay in bed with you one morning. He’d woken hard, your name on his lips, and as soon as he realized, Yuta hurried to climb from bed, to go take care of it himself, but you’d caught his arm and asked him to stay. Yuta was worried about hurting you, concerned about Mei in the corner. But she was already gone as it was actually quite late in the morning. You’d already fed her, and Taeil had taken her downstairs when he left your room. So you welcome Yuta into you, and he’s not normally so tender and romantic in bed. You know him better by the rough passion, each time normally touching on one of his kinks, but this time had been sweet and gentle, taking you apart second by second until you unraveled beneath him. He’d left afterwards, pressing a kiss to your forehead and promising he’d be back with breakfast in bed.

 But, Jaehyun was mostly right about you waiting for his cock. The few times you’ve had sex again, none of them had cum inside of you for one reason or another, and you know that if you tell him that now, it’ll really satisfy Jaehyun’s jealousy and his breeding kink, thinking that he’s the only one allowed to cum in you now.

“Waiting for you, Daddy,” you moan, gasping for breath as his tip drags right against your G spot. “Been waiting for your cum. Please, Jaehyun.”

“Of course, baby. I’ll give it to you.” He thrusts in deep, reaches a hand up to tangle his fingers in your hair so he can pull you up from where your face has been planted against the mattress.

Now, you know that you’ve not been trying to hold your moans in much, and Jaehyun’s definitely not being quiet either, so you’re not too surprised when your eyes open as Jaehyun tugs on your hair, and you see that all of these sounds have drawn some attention.

Johnny and Mark stand watching in the doorway.

No orgies, your doctor’s voice echoes in your mind. She’d been joking, you know that, but right now, you don’t care about how serious or not she’d been. You just want. You don’t think you can handle three of them—sure, you’ve had more and worse before than just three at once, but it’s been a long time, and your body would definitely not be up to it, already after just the two orgasms back-to-back that Jaehyun gave you, you were feeling it. You can take maybe one or two more, but not more than that.

“Jae, please,” you moan, throwing your head back so you can see his face. “Please.”

He glances over at the two in the doorway. He jerks his head, and Mark and Johnny come closer. Mark’s gaze is fixed on Jaehyun’s cock disappearing inside you. Johnny’s watching the way Jaehyun’s fingers are knotted in your hair.

“Are you finally giving her the treat she deserves, Jae?” Johnny asks as he joins you on the bed, kneeling in front of you. “How does she feel?”

“Sweet.” Jaehyun’s hand winds tighter in your hair, drawing you up more until your back is pressed to his chest, and his lips brush your throat. “Our baby girl feels so sweet. Tastes sweet too.” His tongue swipes quickly at your skin.

Johnny starts touching you too; a hand between your legs to rub at your clit, another raised up to tweak one of your nipples. And when he leans in, his lips touching the other side of your neck from Jaehyun’s lips, you lose control of yourself.

You keen at the attention being laved on you, an orgasm rocking through you.

Jaehyun’s teeth close down on your sensitive skin. Johnny chuckles, continuing to rub your clit and kiss your neck as you keep shaking, your body too overstimulated now on your third orgasm, pressed between two boyfriends with them still touching you.

“Oh my God, it’s too much,” you moan, shaking. “Jaehyun, Johnny.”

“Guys.” For the first time since entering the room, Mark speaks. “Back off, look at her.”

It’s a lot but you’re still fine. It’s not more than you can handle, though you appreciate Mark’s concern. But you don’t appreciate when Johnny pulls away, when Jaehyun stops thrusting toward his own orgasm.

You shake your head. “No, keep going.” You reach back, fingernails digging into Jaehyun’s hip. “Please, Jaehyun, I told you I want you to cum in me. Keep going. I need it.”

“Love when you beg for it.” Jaehyun picks back up where he left off, chasing his orgasm, and it’s only another few moments before he’s cumming, the long-awaited heat of his orgasm spilling inside you. “Mmmh,” Jaehyun moans, “now you’re all mine, baby. Gonna give Mei a little sister or brother, right?” He kisses your neck and you shoulder, and as he pulls his hips back from yours, you can turn around in his arms, and he kisses you on the lips.

“Come on, when’s my turn?” Johnny asks, his voice teasing, his hands reaching for your hips. “I’ve missed you too.”

You break the kiss with Jaehyun, twisting around somewhat uncomfortably to bat Johnny’s hands away. “I can’t, Johnny. It’s already been too much, too quick. I shouldn’t have even done that much probably.” It’s not like that sex had been too wild or anything at all, just a bit rougher than the others have been since you were cleared for sex again, but you can already feel a dull ache setting into those muscles.

Johnny sighs and leans back against your pillows. You can see the bulge in the front of his pants, and it hurts you to know how much he wants you, to know that the most you can offer him right now is another handjob or a blowjob, but not what he wants. He looks at you for a long moment, considering, and then he sits up, pushes himself off the bed, and walks out the door.

You sink back against Jaehyun, and he wraps his arms around you. Mark’s still standing there, looking after Johnny, but as the door swings shut, Mark looks back at you and Jaehyun. You groan, reaching down to dip your fingers between your legs, the cum dripping out of you now. “I feel so gross now.”

Jaehyun lets go of you, flopping down onto his back, eyes fluttering shut. “We should take a nap. Mark, you joining?”

There’s just barely enough room for three people on your bed, but it doesn’t matter, because Mark shakes his head. “But if you feel gross, how does a bath sound?”

You nod.

Jaehyun makes a little noise, stretching out an arm to lay it over your lap possessively, keeping you there in bed with him.

Mark rolls his eyes a little. “You can join us, Jaehyun. That tub might be big enough to fit the three of us and your jealousy.”

Jaehyun opens his mouth to retort, but you quickly cover his mouth with your hand. “Let’s not argue. Let’s just relax with a soak in the bath, then we can go see what WinWin and Mei are up to.”

After Mark steps out to go run the bath, Jaehyun moves his arm away.

He’s lying there stark naked, not trying to cover up at all, and you once more find your gaze drawing attentively and appreciatively over his form from head to toe. But as you return to looking at his face, you find that he’s watching you, smiling and blushing ever-so-slightly.

“Enjoying the view?”

You reach over, pinching lightly one of his nipples. “Shut up. You know you’re handsome. I don’t need to tell you that. And also, you don’t need to act so jealously possessive when Mark offers me a bath, like you just fucked me so good, Jaehyun. If I thought I could’ve handled more I would have gladly begged you to keep going, would’ve let Johnny and Mark too.” You lean down so your face is right above his. Jaehyun blinks slowly, dazed by your sudden proximity, and he makes a soft pleasant humming sound when you kiss him. “Only would’ve let you cum in me, though,” you promise him.

Jaehyun grins, resting his hand against the back of your head as he brings you back down into another, longer kiss.

You’re still kissing when Mark pops his head out of the bathroom to tell you the bath is ready.

“Coming?” You ask Jaehyun.

He shakes his head, watching you slip off the bed. “Think I’ll go steal Mei from whoever’s got her. Maybe I’ll just go take a nap.” But he’s still in your bed when you close the bathroom door behind you.

The tub swirls with steam and bubbles, the air scented with vanilla. Mark’s already soaking in the tub, but he opens his eyes as you ease a foot into the water. “Where’s Jaehyun?” He asks, his eyes following each inch of your skin that sinks beneath the bubbles.

“Decided to go bother whoever has Mei.” You sigh as the bubbles brush your chin, the warm water enveloping you, already working magic to relax that ache you’re feeling. “This feels so nice.”

“It does.” Mark’s hand brushes your arm beneath the water, circling around so he can pull you closer and closer until you’re sitting with your back to his chest.

“This is nicer,” you sigh, leaning you head back as Mark kisses the side of your head. “Relaxing.”

His hand slides down to yours, twisting your fingers together underwater. You rest your head on his shoulder, his head rests against yours, and you let your eyes close, feeling safe and good, all wrapped up in warmth and Mark.

After a few moments, he starts humming, playing with your fingers. He brings your intertwined hands up out of the water, and you smile to yourself. Mark rubs his thumb back and forth and back and forth and again and again at the base of your third finger until you finally open your eyes, turn your head slightly, and you ask, “What are you doing?”

“Just thinking,” Mark answers. “Remembering the night I proposed to you, how quickly you shot me down.” He kisses your head, then says, “I still want to marry you, by the way. I know things have been.... a little different since Mei. I know she’s not mine, so proposing like I did back then was maybe a little silly, but it doesn’t change how I feel about you at all. I still love you as wildly as I have done since I met you and even more. I know that you would probably shoot me down in a heartbeat again if I tried to propose, but I’m just thinking about how I would still gladly spend forever with you and Mei.”

Mark lifts your hand up, kissing right there at the base of your finger where a ring would sit if you’d said yes to him.

Mei’s giggles quickly become your favorite sound in the universe. She giggles when Miso comes up to snuggle beside her. She giggles when her dads or the other guys play with her. She giggles when you talk to her in silly voices or when you blow raspberries on her belly. She smiles and makes babbling noises, such a happy baby.

“Mei-mei!” Ten coos, lifting her up. “How’s the happy little princess today?” He scrunches his nose at her adorably.

“She’s been fussy today, actually.” You’ve had her lying on a blanket on the floor in the living room while you sit nearby and fold laundry, and she’s been making little crying noises for the better part of an hour, but every time you’ve checked her diaper she’s been dry, and she’s not hungry either. You’ve tried holding her and talking to her, giving her her favorite new toy. Nothing had worked until you put YouTube on the TV and started playing videos of the guys—music videos, interviews, reality shows, videos from their channels.

They’ve all been gone all day. The 127 members, the Dreamies, and WayV were all out, and you don’t know the last time you were in the house without any of them, or if you’ve ever been there without them. It was strange, and maybe that’s what Mei had been picking up on. And now Ten’s the first one back.

“She seems good now.” Ten sits down on the sofa, sitting Mei back against his chest. She’s making little happy sounds, which only turn to giggles when Ten takes her hands and starts clapping them together between his. That entertains her for another minute or two before she starts getting whiny again.

Ten watches in surprise as you start playing one of WayV’s videos and Mei immediately calms down, her eyes watching the TV screen, transfixed.

“Honestly, I think she wants WinWin.” You sigh, folding the last of the clothes and sitting it on top of the neat pile you’ve made. “She’s only four months old, and already such a Daddy’s girl. I swear she already has some idea of the time he normally comes home, because she just starts to get so excited and looks at the door. And watch, when he starts talking.” You point at the video, and as WinWin appears and starts talking Mei makes such happy sounds.

Ten laughs. “Is it just him she does that for?”

You shrug. “Sometimes Jaehyun. I think it’s because they’re the ones always stealing her from everyone else. You know how possessive they both are of her.”

“And of you.” Ten bounces Mei a little in his lap. She’s got her hand shoved into her mouth, drooling around it, and Ten just watches her do it with amusement. “Johnny came to me a few days ago, complaining that you’d left him on the edge again. Something about Jaehyun calling you about Mei, interrupting what you were doing, then you left him like that?”

You groan. You know exactly what he’s talking about. A few days ago, Jaehyun had happily volunteered to babysit Mei to give you just a few hours to yourself to relax. That relaxing had consisted of you going to get a wax (just because Doyoung had eaten you out and afterwards commented that he missed the times when you would be so smooth down there) and a massage and a trim for your hair too. And when you got home, Jaehyun wasn’t finished having quality Mei time (a nap side-by-side on the floor; it was adorable and you snapped quite a few photos of them), so you climbed up the stairs to your bedroom, but before you went inside, Johnny had peered out of his room, saw the glowing happy state of you, and invited you inside.

You’d been excited to show off to him how soft and smooth you looked, and Johnny had been equally as excited to get to experience it. So he’d laid you back on his bed, touching and stroking you until your belly was on fire with lust, your pussy dripping, mind going fuzzy with just how much you needed Johnny to make you cum. He’d taken photos too, a few small video snippets as well, sending them into your groupchat with your boyfriends to show each of them what they were missing out on, and as he teased you with light brushes of his fingers over your clit, Johnny had read out the responses of what the others were saying.

By the time that Johnny was finally inside you, his big cock feeling so good, and his warm arms and body surrounding you, making you lowkey lose your mind at the all-encompassing feeling of Johnny Suh, you’d forgotten about everything but him.

Until there was a frantic knock on the door.

Both of you ignored it. Lips locked together, Johnny’s hips knocking you higher up the bed with your hand braced against the headboard to keep from ramming into it.

It took another few harried knocks on the door before Johnny grunted a clearly annoyed, “What?”

“It’s Mei,” Jaehyun said from outside the door. “She woke up crying and she feels a little warm, maybe feverish. Sorry to interrupt, but I don’t—“

He didn’t even get the chance to say anything else before you were shoving Johnny away from you, pulling clothes on that weren’t even yours, and you were out the door. Mei had been fine; it wasn’t a fever or anything, she was just a little warm and hungry, and by the time you got that sorted, you couldn’t even find Johnny to finish things off.

In the back of your mind, at the time, you had wondered if Jaehyun had just fibbed about Mei feeling feverish just to break up what was going on with you and Johnny. If he’d seen the photos and videos in the chat, if his jealousy had overwhelmed him enough to make up any excuse to get it to stop. You’d convinced yourself that that was ridiculous; Jaehyun seemed genuinely concerned that Mei might be sick.

But right now, Ten looks at you like he believes Jaehyun had done exactly what you were suspicious of.

“I thought Mei was sick, so I had to go take care of her, Ten.” You push to your feet, coming over to offer your hands to your daughter. She babbles excitedly as Ten hands her over to you. “It’s not like I could tell Jaehyun to just go watch her, make sure she didn’t get too high of a temperature while I stayed to finish Johnny off. And by the time I’d settled her down, I couldn’t find Johnny anywhere to pick back up or to even apologize.”

Ten nods. “Yeah, he was with me. Don’t worry. I took good care of him.” He grins mischievously. “But afterwards we were talking, and he said that kind of thing has been happening a lot. Him feeling left behind or left out. I think you two should talk.”

You think he’s right.

It’s hours later when Johnny gets home. Mei’s asleep upstairs; you’ve got the baby monitor beside you at the table while Chenle and Jisung argue over who gets the last ramen cup in the cabinet. Jungwoo, Mark, and Sungchan are playing video games together in the living room with Yuta and Taeil calling out advice and commentary from where they’re watching. You feel at peace again with the house back to normal, loud and busy and relatively chaotic.

Yuta greets Johnny as he walks through the door, and as he passes the doorway into the kitchen, you call his name. He passes by then backs up, pulling out a headphone. “Did you say my name?”

You nod. “Can I talk to you?”

Johnny pulls his headphones out of his ears, tucking them away in his pocket. “Of course.”

Yuta strides into the kitchen then, bypassing the two youngest members of the group who are now standing at the fridge together, and before either of them notice, he steals the ramen they’d been arguing over. You shake your head at him, and he just smiles.

“Yuta, can you take this.” You hand him the baby monitor. “Just keep an ear on it for Mei, please?”

Yuta glances between the baby monitor and your face and Johnny’s. Something clicks in his eyes, and his smile turns more suggestive. “Ah, alright. I’ve got our little angel. You two have fun.” He accepts the monitor, and walks back out of the room with the steaming ramen in the other hand.

Johnny follows you as you walk outside into their small yard. It’s deep night outside, quiet but the air still buzzes with the nature sounds of insects and the wind. It rustles your hair as you sit down on the bench, Johnny settling down beside you.

“What’s up?” He asks. You notice the way that he reaches down to the knee of his jeans, fiddling with the frayed hole there.

“I was talking with Ten earlier,” you say, “and he told me that last week when I skipped out on you, you went to him instead.”

Johnny nods. “Yeah, like, you don’t have a problem with that, right? Kun and Taeyong still fuck around with him too.”

“I know. I’m fine with that. But, Johnny, Ten said that you’re feeling left out in this relationship lately, and that’s what I want to talk about.” You reach over, laying your hand over his on his knee. “Why do you feel that way?”

Johnny’s quiet for a few seconds, looking at your hand on his, and then he lets out a short, sarcastic laugh. “I mean, it’s not a ridiculous way to feel right now, is it? Not baseless? I can count on one hand the number of times that I’ve had your wholly undivided attention, uninterrupted by someone else within the last, like, five months almost.”

“You mean since Mei was born?” You withdraw your hand. “Johnny, I’m sorry you feel that way, but you know I can’t just ignore my daughter, right? If she needs me, I have to go, because I’m her mother and that’s my responsibility.”

“Of course I get that. I know that you need to take care of her. It’s just fucking annoying when you leave me in the middle of something sexual.” Johnny argues, “Like, that time you gave me a handjob, and you definitely would’ve just left if I didn’t beg you to finish me off, and even then you did it so quick then just left. And when Jaehyun was fucking you, me and Mark walked in, got me so hard and then just told me to leave pretty much. Then there was the other day. And I get it, Mei needed you, but it just pissed me off that Jae interrupted, especially since it turned out that she was fine.”

You don’t know what to say. Those examples he gave you, two of those times it was because your daughter needed you, and the other time your body literally couldn’t take any more so there was nothing you could have done for him.

“And it just seems like you never have time for me anymore. There’s the sex stuff, but also, even when we’re together just talking or watching a movie or whatever it may be, I just feel like you’re not there with me. Like you’re thinking about something else, not listening to me or wanting to be there.” Johnny tilts his head back and looks up at the sky. “I love you, I really do, but lately it’s just felt like maybe I shouldn’t be here anymore. I want someone I can go have fun with and not have to worry about leaving me at a moment’s notice.”

“Well, I’m a mother, Johnny. That’s going to happen.” You tell him. “She comes first; she always will.”

“I know.” Johnny folds his arms in front of his chest. “So maybe we should end this. I thought that I was ready for a relationship like this, but now with all things considered – the other guys and Mei and everything – I think it’s too serious and too complex for me to be happy trying to keep doing this. Your attention is split too many different ways, and I hate ending it, because like I said, I do love you. But I... I just think that maybe we want different things.”

You look down at your hands, willing the tears not to flow, but you can already feel the hot tingle behind your eyes, the tightening in your throat. “You wanted a baby, Johnny. Do you remember that? We talked about it before I was pregnant. Hell, we talked about it while I was pregnant, when you were coming to the appointments with me, meeting my parents. You remember that, right? But now you’re saying that you can’t deal with having my attention split between you and her?”

“That’s not it.” Johnny’s voice drops low, offended and defensive as he says, “Not entirely. If it was just that, just split between me and Mei, I could handle that. But it’s the fact that you’re in love with all of us, that you’re dating all of us. That’s what I can’t deal with. You get that, right?”

You hate to admit it, but you do get it. This moment is strangely similar to when you and Lucas broke up. He had other reasons, mostly his growing feelings for Chaerin, but he also told you that one of the reasons was that he felt that your attention was too divided.

“I get it,” you agree. But you can’t bring yourself to look at Johnny.

“Are you mad at me?” Johnny asks after a few silent moments.

You bite your cheek, blink away the tears, and then you say, “Well, it’s not like I’m jumping for joy or anything over here. But I get it. I don’t like it, but not many people do like being broken up with.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes again. His hand rests briefly on your shoulder, and then he’s gone, leaving just the heat behind from his hand.

Kun’s the one that finds you a while later. You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting out there, but the light in the kitchen has gone out when you hear the door.

“There you are.” Kun steps out, closing the door behind him to come sit beside you. “I was starting to get a little worried when I couldn’t find you anywhere inside.” As soon as he sits down Kun wraps his arm around your shoulders, drawing you into his side, and you lean your head down on his shoulder. “I’m guessing that talk with Johnny didn’t go well?”

You start to lift your head, but Kun lays his hand on your hair, pressing you back down. “How did you know about that?” You ask him.

“Ten. He told me that he told you what Johnny had been saying, and that you two needed to talk.” He strokes your hair soothingly. “And when I got home earlier, Yuta had the baby monitor, and when I asked, he said you were out here talking with Johnny.”

“Yeah.” You sigh. It feels like there’s a weight on your chest that won’t go away. You hate this feeling, like maybe if you’d just done something different, maybe you could make everyone in this relationship happy. But as you’ve been thinking about this since Johnny left you out here, the only thing different you could come up with is just choosing one of them from the start; that or not getting pregnant, but you can’t bring yourself to regret that one bit at all.

“What happened? If you want to talk about it?” Kun asks.

You pull your head away from his hand slowly, and Kun moves to let you do so. He makes a little sound as you sink down, resting your head in his lap and taking his hand to bring it back to your hair. The bench is a little hard and uncomfortable to lie on like this, but you don’t really care too much.

“We broke up. I didn’t, like, come out here thinking that’s what was going to happen. I thought we’d just talk, come up with a compromise or something, and then go back inside happily.” You close your eyes tight. “But Johnny thinks that I’m juggling too many people in this relationship, that I don’t have enough time and attention for all of you, plus being Mei’s mom on top of all of that. And he’s right, I guess. That’s partially why Lucas left me, and I know things have probably gotten worse since I had Mei.”

Kun twirls your hair around one of his fingers. “A little bit, but I thought we all understood that you have to focus on her. We can handle ourselves. But Mei needs you entirely; she’s a baby. And we, or at least I, can see that you’re doing your best to be what all of us need you to be. Aren’t you exhausted?”

You rub your cheek against Kun’s leg, loving the soft feel of his pajama pants against your skin. “A little exhausted.”

“You need a vacation.” Kun suggests. “You barely leave the house, so you need to just get away, get out of the city. Probably get away from all of us.”

A laugh bubbles out of you, and you turn onto your back so you’re looking up at Kun. He’s smiling, eyes glinting in the dim light. “Right, get away from all of you. And what about Mei? Do you think I could leave her here for a week or even a few days? With all of you?” You laugh again. “I love all of you, and I know most of you are good with her, but really, Kun? If you want me to relax, leaving my daughter here in this house without me would almost be as bad as leaving her in a fraternity house.”

Kun frowns. “We’re not that bad.”

You lift a hand up to touch his cheek. “No, you’re not. I know I can trust a couple of you with her, but I still couldn’t leave her.”

The longest you’ve been away from Mei is about four hours, and even then, she was only about twenty minutes away from you. What Kun’s suggesting, leaving the city for a getaway would last much longer and put your farther away from her than you’ve ever been before.

“Take her with you, then.” Kun turns his head, brushing his lips to your hand. “You, her, WinWin. Take a little family trip. He should have a few free days coming up on his schedule. And don’t mind anyone getting jealous about it if you take WinWin with you. He’s her dad. I think the three of you deserve some quality time together.”

It does all sound like a very tempting idea, so you keep that little idea wrapped up nicely in your mind for a few days, coming back to it again and again every time that a stressor pops up in your life. Like when you bump into Johnny and his expression shifts into something that’s a combination of sadness and concern and apology. After the third time of that happening, you decide maybe taking some time away from the house would be a good thing.

You bring it up to WinWin on a Tuesday morning.

He’s just woken up, rolled out of bed, and strolled upstairs into your bedroom. His hair’s still a wild mess, standing up in various direction, and looking especially silly because of the recent dyeing it had. You laugh and reach up to smooth it down as he flops down into your bed, dragging the sheets up. Miso hisses as the sudden sheet movement disrupts him bathing himself at the foot of the bed, and he stalks off, his tail held high, looking back once before he disappears out the door to give WinWin a disgruntled look.

“I want to go back to sleep,” he mumbles into your pillow. “But Hendery wouldn’t stop being loud. I get that he isn’t the one who had a schedule running into early this morning, but come on? Being awake this early?” WinWin smashes his face into your pillow, pulls the blanket up over his head entirely, and falls silent.

“You have a few days cleared on your schedule soon, right?” You lift the edge of the blanket so he can breathe. The lump under the blanket moves to signal a yes. “Do you want to get away and relax with me somewhere that’s not here?”

WinWin emerges from the blanket, squinting against the light. “What?”

“Kun suggested it the other night. He thinks you, me, and Mei should get away. Well, initially he just said me, but when I laughed about leaving Mei here in this house alone with all of you, he amended it to include you and her too.” You quickly reach up, trying to push his hair flat again, unsuccessfully. “What do you think?”

WinWin nods. “Sounds good to me.”

And three days later, you and WinWin pack up Mei and a weekend bag, and drive away to a beach a few hours away. You’re not there necessarily for the beach—after all Mei is only a few months old and you definitely don’t want to expose her to the sun or to the heat for too long—though it does make a very pretty view from the window of your hotel room. The pretty blue water lapping against the beach below makes you pause at the window, holding Mei who also looks out at the water transfixed (or maybe she just sees her reflection in the window and wonders who that other baby is), pressing her little handprints to the glass.

“Do you remember the last time we came to the beach?” WinWin asks, sneaking up behind you. He drops a quick kiss to your cheek, then brings a hand up to cradle Mei’s head.

“Mhmm.” You hum, and Mei waves a hand at the window, fingers leaving streaks on the glass. “I’m pretty sure last time we came to the beach is probably when we made her.” You stroke her soft cheek. “That was such a good day.”

WinWin laughs, and Mei turns her head to look up at him with her sparkly dark eyes. “I remember that day, like, I was joking around with Taeyong and Hendery, and then I looked over at you and Dejun sitting on the end of that dock. You were just sunbathing, and then the next time I looked over you were making out, straddling him, God, it was really sexy. I never pegged him as being the type to mess around in public like that, but neither was I really until right then. I still can’t believe we did that out in broad daylight where anyone could’ve seen us. Do you really think that’s the time that we made her?”

You shrug. “Probably. That’s definitely around the time that she was conceived. And Mei’s our little sea star. She loves her baths, and when I play white noise to help her sleep, the ocean waves are her favorite. Of course, that could all be a coincidence.”

WinWin smiles as Mei starts making nonsensical babbling sounds, kicking her legs as she looks back out the window at the beach and the people milling around in the sand. “We really did something good, didn’t we? Making her.”

“Absolutely.” She certainly wasn’t planned, but you don’t regret one thing about it. You and WinWin talk about this semi-regularly, both of you just absolutely enchanted watching your daughter exist, amazed that she’s the product of both of you. “And to think you almost didn’t come with us to the beach that day.”

WinWin shakes his head. “I don’t want to think about that. Mei-mei, you want daddy to hold you?” He repeats it in Mandarin, and as he says her full name Mingmei, she lifts her arms to him, so you pass her over. WinWin cuddles her, continuing to speak to her quietly as she gazes up at his face and clings tightly to one of his fingers.

It’s the next day when the three of you go down to the beach early on in the day, before the sun’s really beaming down, but nevertheless you’ve slathered Mei with some baby-safe sunscreen, you have a little adorable hat on her head shielding her from the weak sun rays. It’s not really warm enough to get in the water, but it’s nice enough that you and WinWin can sit on the sand for a while, put Mei’s toes in the sand, and eventually you carry her to the water’s edge and hold her right there, her little feet curl up as a cool wave washes over them.

“Does she not like it?” WinWin asks, chuckling as Mei lets out a sad little cry just once.

“You’re not too sure about that are you, Mei?” You laugh. She puts her feet back down after a minute, just to have another wave crash nearby, racing thinly over the sand, covering her feet. She watches the water carefully, and the next time it happens she giggles, quickly adapting to the strangeness of the water.

You don’t spend all day at the beach. There’s a temple nearby up atop a tall hill, so you put on a baby carrier strapped to your chest, fit Mei snugly in it, and you and WinWin go exploring with Mei along for the ride. It’s a nice walk, pretty out, and as you follow a path along the seaside, the breeze blows salty spray up at your faces. Once you’ve reached the peak of the hill, Mei is ready to be free of the prison you’ve got her strapped into on your chest, ready to be set free and held by her dad.

It’s breezy and cool, relaxing here atop the hill, looking down at the waves below. There aren’t too many people up here, so you decide to take a seat on one of the benches overlooking the sea, unpacking a little picnic.

WinWin sits across from you on the bench, both of you facing each other, and he holds Mei in his lap, her sitting up against his chest, waving her hands excitedly as you pull out a bottle you’ve kept chilled with your food. When you try to get her into your arms so you can feed her with the bottle, Mei just whines in protest, clearly wanting to stay with her dad.

WinWin, to be fair, tries his best to not grin in victory as you hand the bottle over to him so he can feed her.

“You know I carried you for nine months, right?” You tell her. “But he’s your favorite?”

WinWin just laughs, and as you watch him laughing and smiling, feeding your daughter, you fully understand why he’s her favorite. Why wouldn’t he be?

You take photos of them together, sweet snapshots of memory as the day goes on. WinWin feeding her, him holding her on his shoulders (you were both surprised and pleased just a few days before as she’d sat upright so well by herself), and even a photo of them looking out at the water with their faces side-by-side as WinWin talked to her in a gentle voice. But as the day goes on Mei starts to grow sleepy and fussy, crying loud enough that heads in the crowd turn to look, so you decide to go back to the hotel.

You sit out on the balcony together, the door cracked open behind you so you can hear if Mei starts crying inside. WinWin stands against the railing, and you stand beside him, your head on his shoulder.

“This is nice.” He sighs. “I don’t get many vacations, not many trips where I can just get away from all the cameras and everything.”

“Nice to get to relax some, isn’t it?” You turn your head and kiss his shoulder. “At least one good thing’s come out of Johnny and I breaking up.”

WinWin makes a soft sound of agreement. “We all knew this wasn’t going to be easy. From the start, we’ve all known that we couldn’t all stay here, doing this with you. I remember after we all found out that Doyoung had kissed you, we thought that was going to be the end, that you’d chosen him. But then a few days later Taeyong was bragging you’d kissed him. For a long time, this didn’t seem, like, real—that you chose all of us, that we were doing a relationship like this, and even when I finally realized that this was happening.... I definitely didn’t think that we’d end up here.”

“What, you didn’t imagine that all of our fun and fucking would lead to Mei?” You glance back over your shoulder. She’s asleep in a little portable playpen in a clear line of sight to you.

“Something like that.” WinWin’s voice sounds strange, and it’s only when he brushes your hair back behind your ear that you look up at him. “I love you. I’m so glad that we have Mei, even if the circumstances were kinda unconventional. But you’re happy, aren’t you? With Mei, with me?”

The longing in his voice, in his touch, warms your heart, and you lean in to his touch. “I am happy, Sicheng.”

You tilt your head to look him in the eye, and then he’s leaned in and is kissing you. The kiss is soft, tender, filled with every ounce of that longing that you’d just heard in his voice. You feel positively light and warm, so you let him guide you back inside. The balcony door slides shut behind you both, and you move past the playpen where Mei sleeps soundly, back into the bedroom. You let him peel your clothes away, kissing down your neck and shoulders and chest.

“You smell like coconut,” he murmurs as he kisses down your body, nose skimming between your breasts. “Mmm, love it.”

It’s like you’re drunk on the sun-warm heat of WinWin, the summer smell of sunshine in his hair when he’s kissing you on the lips again, the way that having him inside you and all around you makes you forget that it’s the tail end of summer and not the highest hottest part. You feel so good as WinWin makes love to you, both of you fallen into this high, dreamy haze together.

Even in the aftermath, sweaty and sticky skin pressed together, you can’t get enough of kissing him, his body still tucked between your legs, your fingers tangled in his hair as he lays against your chest.

“Mmm, god,” WinWin moans softly, kissing softly beneath your jaw, down the side of your throat, and retracing his steps to your lips. You smile into the kiss, giggling a bit as the way that his fingers brush over your ribs tickles. WinWin smiles, kisses you once again, and then leans up, breaking the kiss. He just looks down at you, and as you blink your eyes open, WinWin says, “Marry me?”

“What?” You trail your fingers over his miles of exposed skin. “Like, right now?”

He shrugs. “Whenever. I love you, and we have Mei, and I just want to marry you.” He kisses you again, but you put a hand to his shoulder, pressing him back.

“Dong Sicheng, are you serious?”

The warm glow pulses all around you, threatening to collapse or explode. The idea of what he’s proposing—marriage to him, a future with him as your husband and Mei’s father—it excites you, but terrifies you in equal measure. If you say yes to him, then what about the others? It’d be like a slap in the face. You love WinWin, of course you do, but you love them too.

You think of Mark, his underprepared proposal nearly a year ago, the hurt in his eyes when you’d told him no, but the persistent hope and love, the soft way that he traces a line around your ring finger when he holds your hand. You think of Jaehyun, a man so full of love and jealousy. You think of Taeil who looks at Mei as if maybe she could really be his daughter. You think of all of them.

“I am.” WinWin sits up, breaking contact with you, and the cool air floods in against your skin. “I want to marry you, but I know that you’re not going to tell me yes. Not now, anyway. But I just thought I should put that intention out there, let you know where I see this relationship going. I don’t expect you to actually tell me yes, so don’t worry your pretty head about it too much. Okay?”

He leans in, kisses your forehead, and then he’s slipping away, dragging his shorts back up, and he’s out of the room before you have the chance to say anything.

The rest of the vacation is very nice and relaxing, even after the slight awkwardness following WinWin’s proposal. Nevertheless, by the time you’re returning to Seoul, walking through the door of the big house with Mei in your arms, her fingers tugging at your hair, you’re pleased to be back.

The warmth of the beach faded quickly on the way back to Seoul where a chill has set in as the season turns over to autumn. As soon as you’re inside the house, Jaehyun, Taeil, and Taeyong are there, cooing at Mei, offering to take her from you. She goes easily into Taeyong’s arms, and he sweeps her away, playing with her and talking at her in a sweet baby voice.

Xiaojun’s there when you go back outside to help WinWin bring in the bags, and he pulls you quickly into a hug, tucking his face into your shoulder. You wrap your arms back around him, squeezing tightly.

Your reunion with most of your boyfriends goes as such, a warm hug, a murmured “I missed you,” a passionate kiss that gets booed and noises of disgust made at it. The last reunion is with Jungwoo as he gets home late from a schedule and comes into your room to use your shower, then crawls into bed with you and Mark, snuggling in between both of you.

“Where’s Mei?” He asks, casting one leg over yours, slinging an arm over Mark.

“Jaehyun and Doyoung are hoarding her,” Mark mumbles, pushing Jungwoo’s arm away. “How did the photoshoot go today?”

“Fine.” Jungwoo sighs, turning over so he’s on his back instead of his stomach. “They really liked Shotaro.”

You look at him, at the ever-so-slight downturn of his lips. “I’m sure they loved you too, Jungwoo. Like, yeah, Shotaro’s a cutie, but you....” You bite your lip and give him a once-over. “Very sexy. Sex appeal sells more than cuteness, you know. I know for sure your fans will buy up anything that’s got you looking sexy on the cover.” He’d looked so stunning when he walked into your room, his hair and makeup still done up from the shoot, and right now it’s all gone, but he is stretched out in your bed wearing only the towel around his waist.  

Maybe you reach out to touch him then, unable to hold yourself back when he’s lying there looking so tempting.

Jungwoo laughs at the ridiculously horny look you’re giving him. “Didn’t WinWin give you any sex while you were away? You haven’t looked this needy since before Mei, probably.”

“We did have sex. Several times. Should I tell you about them?” You can’t help it if you’re horny. Maybe that’s a good sign that your body is returning to how it was before the pregnancy, your libido skyrocketing again.

Mark leans up, resting his head on his hand as he watches your hands wander over Jungwoo’s chest, watches the way that Jungwoo’s nipples perk up, the way that Jungwoo bites his lip as you pinch at one of his nipples. You start telling them both about your fun on your little trip, continuing to touch Jungwoo as you do.

Mark just watches and listens, drinking in everything that’s happening. He watches you eventually swing your leg over Jungwoo’s lap, situating yourself right over the bulge that’s risen under the towel. He watches Jungwoo strip you of your shirt and bra; he moans a little as Jungwoo loses the towel and pulls you down, filling you with his cock. Mark moans again as Jungwoo starts touching your boobs, nuzzling against them, and then closing his lips around a nipple as you grind down on his erection. Jungwoo alone of your boyfriends is really into this; the others that tasted your milk thought it was okay or thought it was gross, but Jungwoo just genuinely loves doing this, tasting it on his tongue any chance he gets.

Jungwoo laves all of his attention on one, suckling as you ride him slowly. Then his other hand rises up to your other breast, the one closer to Mark, just massaging, his fingers occasionally tweaking your nipple.

And if Mark makes any sound you don’t hear it, but then he’s right there, head in front of your chest, tongue testing as milk leaks from your nipple while Jungwoo massages. Just as the first time it had been strangely very hot to have a boyfriend breastfeeding from you, so is it now, but multiplied as you’ve got two of them doing this.

As Mark grows more confident, he knocks Jungwoo’s hand away, and Jungwoo drops both of his hands to your hips, encouraging you to ride him faster. Both of them keep their mouths on your breasts even as you start fucking yourself on Jungwoo, feeling your orgasm building, getting closer. And then Mark’s hand slips down to your clit.

The orgasm bursts like a bubble of pleasure popped.

You shudder in their arms, quaking and moaning. Mark pulls his mouth from your tit, licking his lips.

“Good, Mark?” You ask after you catch your breath. You slump forward against Jungwoo. “Did you like that?”

Mark nods, looking a little dazed as if caught off guard by how much he’d liked it. You giggle, reaching to pull him in for a kiss, but just as you do, Jungwoo tips you backwards.

He drags your legs up around his hips, fucking into you now at his own pace, needing his own orgasm after he’s felt you cumming around him. Mark falls down beside you, happily seeking your kiss, swallowing down all of the moans that Jungwoo fucks out of you.

“Mark,” you sigh, “please. Please, let me help you feel good too.” Your hand searches down his body, looking for the spot where his shirt gives way to skin, so you can push your hand inside his shorts. “Mark, mm, please.”

Jungwoo nails a spot inside you that makes your eyes roll with pleasure, your hands grapple at the waistband of Mark’s shorts.

“You want my cock, baby?” Mark rolls away from you, getting off the bed so he can strip off his shirt and shorts, and when his weight next settles beside you, he’s naked, jerking his hand over his cock. “Open up, baby.”

Mark feeds you his cock, thrusting gently at first, his tip bulging your cheek, but you turn your head, breathe through your nose and let your jaw go slack, encouraging him to use your throat.

Neither of them are much for dirty talk, but as Jungwoo’s pace picks up to almost a brutal speed, you hear him start talking to Mark about you. “God, look at her, all open and pretty and wet for us, just a dripping fucktoy for both of us.”

“She’s our pretty slut again,” Mark says, thrusting down your throat, pinching one of your nipples. “Taking two cocks at once. When was the last time you did that, baby?”

It hasn’t been that long, not that you would tell Mark that even if you could right now, but the way that he’s now fucking your face makes it a little difficult to even draw breath, let alone attempt to speak.

Jungwoo cums a moment later, spilling his load inside you, but he keeps thrusting with his thumb on your clit until you experience your second orgasm of the night. He pulls out and leaves you and Mark, not that Mark notices really, too absorbed in fucking your face, feeling you moan and gag around him.

When Mark cums, he pulls back so just his tip is between your lips, and he looks down so he can see your eyes as you suck and flick your tongue over the slit on his tip. His hips just barely press forward, only the shallowest of thrusts between your lips, and he cums over your tongue, and you can feel just a bit of his cum dripping from the corner of your mouth.

Mark moans, swearing in at least two different languages, and after a moment he falls away from you, sinking back into his comfortable spot on the bed from earlier. You sit up, using your thumb to push what you’d spilled back into your mouth. Mark looks up at you as you straddle him, as you lean in to kiss him. He opens his mouth to your kiss, and makes a startled yet aroused sound as you let his cum leak from your mouth into his. But he takes it, kissing you with his cum passed between your mouths. It’s gross and dirty, but it’s something you’ve thought about doing before; you’re just surprised that Mark’s going along with it.

He swallows when you break the kiss, sitting up just a little so you can see his face.

Mark wrinkles his nose adorably. “That was gross. Does it always taste like that?”

You laugh and kiss his cheek. “Usually.”

Jungwoo returns a moment later, looking freshly rinsed clean, and he crawls back into bed with a damp cloth to wipe your face and chest and thighs down.

“Messy girl,” he teases as he watches you wipe between your own legs at where his cum is leaking out.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Mark mumbles, but Jungwoo’s already moving back off the bed, taking the cloth with him back to the bathroom. “Filthy, messy girl. Spitting my cum back into my mouth.”

He doesn’t sound like he didn’t like it, though.

You snuggle up against Mark’s side, your cheek on his shoulder, and Jungwoo cuddles up behind you, drawing the blankets up to cover all three of you. “Goodnight,” he whispers, kissing the back of your shoulder, “You know we love you, right? That we didn’t mean those things we said.”

You hum. “But I am a slut for all of you. I accepted that a long time ago.”

Mark pets your hair. “You’re an angel. Just go to sleep, babe.”

Several hours later you wake in the half-light of dawn in your bedroom. The door is cracked open a bit, letting in a little light from the hallway, and a nightlight glows in the corner, all of this allowing you enough light to see that Mei’s in her bed sound asleep. But it takes you another second to realize that Jungwoo is gone, that Mark is sitting up on the opposite side of the bed from you whispering to Doyoung.

“Doyoung?” You mumble, rolling over fully, stretching your arms above your head. “What are you doing? Where’d Jungwoo go?”

Mark leans over, kisses your forehead. “Go back to sleep. Jungwoo just felt like there wasn’t enough room with all three of us.” He brushes his fingers through your hair for another moment, and then your eyelids sink shut again.

The next time you wake, it’s much later. The sun is shining through the windows, Mark is asleep once more beside you. Taeil is sitting in the rocking chair, holding Mei and giving her a bottle. You almost feel a sense of déjà vu to a few months ago, though back then you’d woken in the middle of the night to this similar situation.

“Good morning,” you yawn, sitting up and stretching your arms above your head. “I didn’t even hear her cry out.”

Taeil shakes his head. “She didn’t. Jungwoo said you’d probably be pretty tired this morning, so I just came in to check on her. She just woke up a few minutes ago.”

You nod, and then look around, trying to find your phone, but it’s not on the nightstand where you would normally leave it.

“Why don’t you go shower?” Taeil suggests. “Lucas ordered in some breakfast for everyone.”

“Why?” You stand up, dragging the top blanket with you to keep your body covered.

Taeil shrugs. “I think he lost a bet yesterday or something. But go shower.” He tilts his head toward the door to your bathroom. “If you hurry there might still be some left.”

So you do go shower off, and when you come back out, Taeil’s gone but Mark is sitting in bed, his legs spread in a V with Mei lying on her back between them as he plays peek-a-boo with her.

You walk over to the nightstand to grab your phone, then remember that it’s not there. So you start looking in the bedsheets, then you crouch down to look under the bed.

“What are you doing?” Mark asks.

“Looking for my phone. I was going to send my mom some pictures from the trip.” You sweep your arm under the bed, only coming out with a pair of panties you thought you’d lost ages ago. You toss them toward the wash basket and then stand up, looking around, hoping that your phone will catch your eye from somewhere unexpected. “Have you seen it?”

Mark stands up, hoisting Mei up into his arms, and instantly she’s resting her head on his shoulder in a way that is absolutely one of the most adorable things. If she loves her dad the most, then Mark is a close second tied with Jaehyun. “Nope. Maybe it’s a sign that you should be away from your phone today. Did Taeil tell you about Lucas buying breakfast? I think he got some of those bubble waffles you’ve been wanting to try.”

You let it go for the time being. You know your phone is somewhere here in the house; you had it just last night while showing the boys some photos and videos, and now you’re just not sure where it’s gotten to. So you follow Mark downstairs to the kitchen.

Jaemin and Renjun are in there when you, Mark, and Mei walk in. They stay to hang out, playing with Mei to make her laugh while you and Mark eat breakfast, and then Mark disappears for a bit, and you give Mei a bath, play with her by giving her tickles and kisses, stretching her arms above her head and cycling her legs as you get her dressed. She smells clean and perfect, just a happy ball of sunshine as you bounce her in your arms as you walk around the house looking for your phone wherever it might be.

The house is oddly quiet. Most of the guys are gone though you can hear Jisung and Hendery playing video games downstairs. Eventually you walk into the room Doyoung, Taeil, Yuta, and Mark share, though right now only Doyoung is in there, curled up on his bed watching a drama, looking sleepy.

“Hey.” He sits up abruptly, pausing the show.

“Hey,” you reply. But you don’t stop to chat, you start moving around the room, nudging aside bags and piles of clothes, flipping the sheets on Yuta’s bed with one hand, moving Taeil’s pillows around. When you turn back to Doyoung he’s watching you with a confused expression. You sigh. “You haven’t seen my phone, have you? I know I had it last night, but I can’t find it anywhere this morning.”

Doyoung looks back at the drama. “No, I haven’t seen it. I’m sure it’ll turn up. Miso probably stole it. You know your cat is a real thief, right?” He glances back over at you. “Yesterday I caught him stealing a pair of my socks, and Taeil said he thought he saw him eyeing up that handstitched baby blanket from your mom. It’s like he’s nesting somewhere in the house.” He fiddles with his sleeve, and when his phone lights up beside his thigh with a notification, a thought enters your mind.

You lean closer, reaching for his phone. “Can I just use your phone to call mine?”

Doyoung snatches his phone away. “No.” He hides his phone on the opposite side of the bed.

Mei makes bubbly noise, blowing at her lips while she clings to your shirt as you try to reach Doyoung’s phone again. He moves it even farther out of your reach.

You stand up straight, shifting Mei slightly. “Doyoung, what the hell? Just let me see your phone.”

He shakes his head. His grip on his phone is so tight that his knuckles lose all their color. The screen lights up again from between his fingers, and you can just make out the sight of multiple messages coming through. And in the silence of this standoff you hear a quiet buzzing coming at the same time from beneath his bed.

Doyoung’s not fast enough to stop you as you crouch down and dig a hand beneath his bed, coming out with your phone in your hand.

“Wow, that’s crazy. How did that get there?” Doyoung asks in a very put-on voice, his look of surprise very clearly fake.

You frown at him as you rub the screen of your phone against your shirt to clean it a bit. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on? Or do I need to look at this first?” You wave your phone, and at that moment, Doyoung reaches out and snatches it from you, hiding it right back beside his phone. “Doyoung. Seriously.”

You can feel Mei drooling through the shoulder of your shirt, but you don’t even care.

Doyoung shakes his head. “I just thought you could use some time away from your phone today.”

“Why don’t I believe you?” You readjust your hold on your daughter. “Are you really just going to lie to me like this?”

He shakes his head again, looking at you for a few long moments in silence as the phones continue to buzz periodically beside him. And eventually Doyoung sighs. He pushes away from his blankets, standing up in front of you, and then he puts a hand to your shoulder and presses you to sit down on his bed.

“The fans know about you and WinWin. Someone posted photos and videos of the two of you together on your trip. They got you and him and Mei looking like a happy little family, and this time I don’t think there’s any denying it like our team did last time.” Doyoung clears his throat. “And either that same sasaeng or a different one must’ve been outside here yesterday when you got home. There are photos of you and Xiaojun hugging. People are bringing up those old pictures and videos like they did last time. It’s a whole fucking mess, and I didn’t want you to see any of that.”

Suddenly the blurry memory from early that morning of Doyoung in your room whispering to Mark makes sense. The odd behavior of all of your boyfriends so far today, like the way Mark and Taeil had both tried to distract you when you were looking for your phone.

“We all think that you shouldn’t leave the house again for a bit. Like, fans are going crazy.” Doyoung’s hand massages your shoulder gently. “Like last time, there’s fans defending you and us, but there’s others too. I don’t think you need to see any of that.” He sinks down to kiss you gently, soothingly on the forehead. “We just want to protect you.”

You’ve been through all of this before, so this time it seems a little easier to handle. You can’t blame Doyoung and the others for wanting to keep you from seeing the things that are being said online. You even manage to keep yourself from looking at social media after you leave Doyoung’s room with your phone back in your possession. Well, at least for a little while.

Eventually you do look. You see fans talking about being so mad that sasaengs are camped out in front of the house. You see long threads full of the same pictures from before, with several more from your vacation with WinWin, plus several others that you recognize of you with the other boys over the last month or so.

You put Mei down for a nap and sit in the rocking chair beside her bed with your knees drawn up to your chest as you scroll through Twitter looking at all of this. You only get up to close the curtains over your window because even though your bedroom is on the top floor of the house and facing away from the street, you can’t help but feel surveilled. You see someone reposted some photos from one of those sasaengs that are apparently camped in front of the house, and you almost throw your phone away because you can hear that Ten, Johnny, and Taeyong just got home and those are the photos that are already being circulated.

This goes on for a few days. No statements put out by the boys or the company seem to sway the fans, and you can barely eat or sleep. You can’t leave the house. There are stalkers outside day and night, and you leave the curtains drawn on every window so you can at least walk around inside the house without feeling like they can see you.

On the morning of the third day, as the sun rises you’re sitting in the kitchen, watching Hendery sleepily eat a bowl of cereal. You haven’t eaten since about midday the previous day. You lost any appetite you might have had when one of the Dream members came home and a sasaeng nearly attempted to come in with him.

Since then their company did at least hire a security guard to stand in front of the house’s door, but your stomach is still tied in so many nauseous knots.

The front door of the house opens, sounding loud in the quiet munching of Hendery’s breakfast, and your heart sinks into the bare cavern of your belly, anxiety knotting your nerves. But then the door closes, and Taeyong calls out just loud enough for you to hear, “It’s just me.”

You hate that he knows that you’re this nervous about everything that he has to announce himself. He pops his head into the kitchen a moment later, gaze sliding from you to Hendery and then back again. He sighs at the look on your face, then comes closer. Taeyong asks, “Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Did you?” You retort. He already knows the answer, you can see it written on his face that he wouldn’t believe you even if you said yes. “No, Taeyong. I haven’t slept. Every time I close my eyes, I just think about one of them sneaking inside and coming upstairs.”

Taeyong strokes your hair. “We have the guard. He won’t let them in. He barely let me pass by.” He smiles lightly in an attempt to brighten your mood, but it doesn’t work. “Babe, I can see that you’re beyond stressed about all of this. If you need to, go stay with your parents for a while, until this all blows over again.”

“But what if it doesn’t blow over.” You swat his hand away, suddenly overwhelmed by irritation at the patronizing way he’s petting you. “Your fans have a long memory. They’re not quick to forgive either. And some of their theories online are disturbingly accurate. They hate me.”

“They don’t even know you.”

“Well, they hate me for being happy in this relationship with all of you.” You fold your arms over your chest and stare down into Hendery’s cereal bowl until you hear the sound of Taeyong walking away.

Hendery taps his spoon on the side of his bowl for a few seconds before he clears his throat. “Are you unhappy?”

You almost roll your eyes. Of course you’re not happy right now.

“I mean, like, in this relationship. With all of us.” He sits the spoon down and pulls his hands back into his lap. “I know it’s unusual and that in itself makes this more stressful. I guess, what I mean to ask is, do you think you’d be happier if this relationship were more normal? If there were less of us?”

You look slowly into his eyes. “What?”

“I haven’t really been in this since Mei was born. I think, for me, what you and I have has mostly been about sex. At least, as I’ve been thinking about it recently, that’s how I think it’s been.” He nibbles nervously at his bottom lip. “Right now, there’s a lot going on, and it’s stressful for you and for me, so maybe if I back out of this relationship it will help a little bit.”

You want to say, “Right, because piling heartbreak on top of the rumors and hate is going to help.” But you don’t. You keep quiet because maybe he’s right.

You haven’t had Hendery around much since Mei was born. It’s not like you didn’t invite him to be around, he just doesn’t come around. He’s there, but not really. You know he’d been somewhat excited about you having a baby, had been there for you as he believed that she could have been his, but once he’d seen her with his own eyes and held her in his arms, once he’d learned that she shared none of his DNA, that’s when you’d felt him withdrawing somewhat.

And you know he’s right about the sex. Yes, you’d had your romantic moments together. Shared intimate date nights, soft ‘I love you’s between kisses, and many of the things you’d shared with your other boyfriends, but truly from the start this thing between you and Hendery had been sexual. And sex with Hendery was something that you hadn’t had in months.

“I’m sorry.” You duck your head as you apologize. You’ve gone months ignoring Hendery’s sexual needs. “God, I’m a really bad girlfriend, aren’t I? You guys keep breaking up with me and telling me how good I am at ignoring you, making you feel left out. And you’re all right.”

“I’m not blaming you for that!” Hendery quickly says. “You’re busy! You’re a mom now. You have all of us to pay attention to. And for so long you couldn’t have sex after Mei, and like I said, I really feel like that was a key point to our relationship. It might sound bad to say this now, but like, our relationship has been over for months now, and we’ve just been pretending that it’s not. But I think it’s time that we finally put the end stamp on it.”

So you do, and you feel that stamp like a dull bruise on your heart.

But he’s right. Things between you and him have been over for months. Similar to you and Ten, the end of this branch of your polyamorous relationship has withered and faded away.

And as you rise from the breakfast table, hoping to go upstairs to maybe catch a few moments of sleep, you feel the instability of this whole relationship around you. You’ve lost four of your boyfriends in what feels like such a short time. And you’re afraid that they won’t be the only ones.

Ten looks ridiculous, cradling Miso like a baby in one arm, holding Mei in the other, grinning and bouncing them.

It’s been almost a week now since the rumors started up again, and they’ve died down some, but there’s still a lot of attention on you and the boys.

“Why don’t you just marry one of them?” Ten asks as you voice your worries aloud. “I mean, get married, admit that you’ve got a baby, it’s a little less than traditional but it’s not like it’s not something that’s happened before. Other idols have announced all of those things after the fact. That would get the fans to butt out, but right now they’re just being nosy, wanting to know the details of what exactly is going on. They want to understand your role with all of us. I’m sure Mark would be glad to do the honor of marrying you.”

You sigh before admitting, “Sicheng has also proposed to me.”

Ten makes a noise of surprise that startles Miso who twists his way out of Ten’s arms and drops to the floor. Ten quickly and carefully makes sure that he’s got a good hold on Mei and that Miso didn’t scrape her or anything in his escape.

Once he’s comforted himself that she’s fine (as if she wouldn’t have immediately begun squalling if Miso had caught her with a claw), Ten stares at you. “He proposed? And you said no? Also, since when do you call him Sicheng?”

“Since I realized it was weird calling my boyfriend, the father of my daughter by WinWin when that’s not his real name.”

“But you still call Hendery by his name, not his actual name. And Lucas.” Ten points out.

Your heart gives an odd little beat. “Yeah, but neither of them are my boyfriends anymore. And besides, I call Xiaojun Dejun sometimes.” You start listing off all of your boyfriends, suggesting you call them by their actual names rather than the ones you and pretty much everyone else use for them.

Ten waves his hand at you to make you stop. “You’re just doing all of this to gloss over the fact that WinWin proposed to you, and you turned him down. Do you just not want to get married or something? Is that what this is? Because that right there is a very good option: the father of your child, extremely in love with you. He’s the perfect solution to everything going on right now. Most of the fans already believe that WinWin’s definitely the one that you’re dating in the group.”

“Well, they’re not wrong. They just don’t know about all of the others. And all of the others are exactly why I can’t marry him. It’s not fair.” You thought about all of this the first time when Mark proposed, rethought it when WinWin proposed. “And can’t you just imagine what a slap in the face that would be to Mark since I turned him down? How Jaehyun would react?”

Ten rolls his eyes now. “You can’t live your life worrying about how Jaehyun’s going to react to stuff. He can be very dramatic, but I promise you, babe, he just wants you to be happy. That’s what we’ve all ever wanted for you. For sweet, sweet Mingmei.” He looks down at Mei then, making a silly face that makes her burst into giggles.

“I don’t want to get married to any of them yet. Not when I don’t know.” You clench your fists against your belly where the knots that have been there for a week still grow even tighter.

“When you don’t know what?” Ten asks, glancing up from Mei.

You shrug. “Everything. How everything will play out.”

Over the last week, especially these last few days since you and Hendery had the quiet breakup in the kitchen, things have felt so odd and unstable. Almost all of them dance around you and your feelings, it’s only your exes who seem to be perfectly fine, like Ten and Johnny. You can feel the tension in the air every time you pass one of your boyfriends, like the crackling of static electricity in the air before a storm.

You’re just waiting for the first rumble of thunder.

Weeks pass with nothing.

Then late October arrives, the days cool and overcast, but your days with your boyfriends and your daughter as she hits 6 months feel bright and sunny, watching her grow and excel every day.

But that was just the silence before the storm.

Clouds gather and the static feeling grows in the air as the silence surrounding this whole relationship breaks after so long.

Someone (“an insider” according to articles being posted online) spilled some details of the relationship, talking about how the members of NCT are all involved in some way or another with you. They don’t list your name in the articles, not that it matters because fans dig up your private information, your social media and things like that before you have the chance to prevent it.

It wouldn’t have been such a big deal, just another rumor to brush under the rug. Except that this insider had really offered up very specific details. They cite the time you went to America to join 127 on tour. How you broke up with them, only to come back a few months later and then miraculously wound up pregnant just weeks later.

The article makes it sound like you’re a gold-digging whore of the group.

You suspect that it’s a manager of the group that had leaked this info, they’re the only ones that could have had the information without spilling it for all this time. Not even any of your closest friends had known all of this.

But the article is a massive success, sweeping the internet.

And just like that, the storm you’ve seen approaching for weeks breaks around you.

Jungwoo is the first to approach you that same evening. The house has been disturbingly quiet. WinWin came and took Mei away a little while ago, telling you that you looked like you needed some time to yourself, and that he could take care of his daughter for a bit. You know he’s right. Especially when Jungwoo enters your room.

He looks like an anxious disaster, can barely get through his explanation. He cites the pressure and attention from fans on the relationship right now. The things he’s seeing online, as now fans aren’t only attacking you but are also saying very terrible things about the members. It’s destroying him.

“I love you so much, I really, really do.” Jungwoo promises, holding onto your hand so tightly that you swear you can feel your bones grinding together. “But I can’t be a part of this anymore, it’s not good for me. And, also, I just—I don’t think I’m ready to be a dad, not really. Like I thought I could be, but watching you and WinWin with her, seeing the responsibility and everything of it, I’m not ready for that. I think I’d be better as her Uncle Jungwoo, you know?”

You do. You understand. You hate it, but you get it.

Taeil comes in not too long later as you’re still wiping at the stupid hot tears that pour down your cheeks. You’re hiccuping from the force of your crying, and at first you think Taeil’s just heard you crying and has come in to comfort you. He sits down on your bed with you, grabs some tissues for you to blow your nose and wipe your face. He puts his arm around you, and you rest your head on his shoulder.

You can tell the moment when he’s about to say the words you don’t want to hear. His breath hitches as he opens his mouth, searching for the words to say.

You sit up and put a hand to his chest.

“Don’t.” You shake your head. “Please, Taeil. Don’t break up with me. Please.”

His hand covers yours, warm and soft. “Baby, I think it’s now or never, honestly.” His voice is slow and sad, overflowing with all of these different emotions. “I think that before this is all over you’re going to have to decide on one of us to be with, and I hate it, but I just know that it won’t be me.”

Those words hit like stones, and something breaks inside you as you press yourself against him, clinging, silently begging him not to leave.

This house you’ve lived in has been on such unstable foundations since the moment Lucas left you, and now you feel like the ground it’s been built on has turned to liquid. Taeil can’t leave. He’s been such a stable person that you can rely on here. You love him.

Taeil presses his lips to your hair, holds you as you cry, as you repeatedly ask him not to leave you too. But you can tell that he’s already made up his mind, signed out of this relationship, decided that the others rank higher than him, even though it’s his bed that you’d shared for so many nights. It’s Taeil that you woke up to on so many happy mornings; it’s Taeil that you’d once spent all night during your late pregnancy talking to as he touched your belly and spoke softly to your unborn daughter as she stretched and rolled, the two of you whispering together about a future that you could have together.

He holds you until you stop crying but only because your throat hurts and your nose is running and you’ve started hiccuping again. Taeil leaves only when the door opens again and Taeyong stands there.

“Oh, sorry, I can—“ Taeyong points his thumb back over his shoulder, as if he can leave and come back later. But Taeil stands up, gestures for Taeyong to take his place, and as Taeyong slides in to take up the place of the ghost of Taeil in your arms, Taeil slips out the door and closes it behind him.

You don’t even give Taeyong the chance to talk to you. “Are you breaking up with me?”

The way he goes awkwardly stiff is answer enough. A few seconds tick by, your head on his shoulder, wet cheek feeling stuck to the cotton of his tshirt. Taeyong sighs, “I don’t really belong here as much as I once did. And I think it’s far past the time we stop pretending that I do. I just think I might be happier somewhere else. You might be happier with less people in this relationship. You’re always juggling us and Mei, trying to make time to make each of us happy, but you don’t give yourself the time. I love you, I love Mei. I want both of you to have the best in life, and I just don’t think that you need me here romantically to do that.”

The words spill out of him, his thumb stroking over your knuckles as he says, “Besides, I.... I really like what I have going on with Ten. It’s easier, honestly. We understand what each other needs on some level that I just.... I don’t think you and I have ever really had. Ten’s good at making me feel small when I need it, powerful when I don’t. We have fun and can trust each other, and, like I said, I love you, but we don’t have that in the same way.”

By the time that Taeyong leaves, you feel wrung out. You’re surprised that there are still any tears left, surprised that there’s any more of your heart to break.

And then Xiaojun walks into your room. You’re half buried in your pillow and blankets. You don’t even properly see him.

“Just leave,” you tell him. “Just like everyone else.”

Xiaojun makes a noise, but you cut him off.

“Don’t. I’m so tired of breaking up, Xiaojun. Please, just, let’s get this over with. You can leave.” You turn your back on him.

“I wasn’t coming in here for that....” Xiaojun’s voice is small. “But if that’s what you want, I guess, um, I understand.”

You pull your blanket cocoon tighter around you, press your face deep into your pillow, and wallow in the darkness as Xiaojun closes the door behind him, night falls outside.

Some time passes. You’re not sure how long exactly, only that you’d heard footsteps passing up and down the stairs, doors opening and closing, showers running. The night sky visible through the tiny gap in your bedroom window’s curtains shows that it is dark outside, truly dark. You should be asleep by now, fallen into fitful dreams after the misery of the past several hours. You’d heard your bedroom door crack open a while back, heard WinWin’s quiet whisper to Mei, heard the pause, then he’d backed out of the room and taken Mei with him, leaving you to wallow in the sorrow of your breakups.

The house has fallen once more into disturbing silence when your bedroom door next opens. You can’t tell who it is right away. And then he turns the light on, flipping the switch to throw the room into blinding whiteness for a moment. You blink against it, rolling over to face the door, and once your eyes adjust, you see Jaehyun.

He presses the door shut firmly behind him, leaning back against it as he stares at you.

“Are you going to break up with me too?” You mumble, wiping your snot and tears on the pillow case. “You tired of being watched all the time? Being whispered about and shitted upon by your fans? I know I haven’t been ignoring you, so that one can’t be your reason.”

Jaehyun just sighs and pushes away from the door to come sit down on the edge of your bed. He rests his hand on your back, rubbing up and down to help you relax, but you just bury your face in your pillow again and keep crying.

This fucking sucks. You feel like your heart has been run through a shredder. Four boyfriends gone in one fell sweep, just a few hours. And you pray with every ounce of your being that Jaehyun’s not here to break up with you too. You don’t think you would blame him. You don’t really blame any of them—they deserve to live a happy life that’s not tangled in with this drama of the polyamorous relationship, your daughter, the heavy judgement from their own fans because of you—and it does make sense, but that doesn’t mean that you’re not heartbroken.

You twist your head to the side and look up at the blurry colors of Jaehyun’s face. He’s just watching you with what you think is a sad expression (but his face really is quite blurry through your teary eyes). If he’s here to end things with you, then you want to say what you have to say first, so you just say it: “Mei’s not your daughter.”

Jaehyun’s hand goes still on your back. You can feel just how tense he goes too.

“I know that.” His voice sounds tight.

“She’s not your daughter, and I know how badly you wished that she was, and now with all of this shit going on, I wouldn’t blame you if you were breaking up with me too.” You close your eyes. “You could go be free of me, go start dating some probably really hot model or actress or other idol, go make a super hot baby with her.”

“You’re right, I could go do that.” Jaehyun says it simply.

Your eyes flash open to glare at him, but he’s smiling softly at you.

“I could go do that, but why would I?” His hand starts moving on your back again. “I love you. How many times do I have to say that before you get it through that thick head of yours.” His knuckles knock gently on your forehead. You frown, and Jaehyun just laughs. “I love you,  and I love Mei even though she’s not biologically my daughter. I don’t know why you think that I would leave you just because of that.  I know when we broke up the first time it’s because I was shitty and jealous all the time, but I’ve grown, haven’t I? And regarding what you were just saying about finding a hot model or whatever to have a baby with, I have no intention of leaving you for anyone else. You are already hotter than I can handle, thank you. I have a beautiful daughter downstairs. And if you ever want any more beautiful babies in the future, I’m right here to help with that. If you don’t, then that’s okay too. We have Mei.”

Your eyes feel hot and your breath hitches in your chest for an entirely different reason than minutes before. You squeeze your eyes shut as fresh, hot tears spill over.

Jaehyun sinks down to lay on the bed right in front of you. His thumb traces over the mess of tears on your face, and you bring your hand up to the back of his.

With your eyes still closed, you confess, “I’m so afraid of what the future holds right now. I feel like you’re all going to leave me. All of you.” You sniffle, then quietly say, “But then you have to go and say stuff like that, Jung Jaehyun. Do you mean it?”

“Every word. Promise?” Jaehyun offers, his pinky finger intertwining with yours already. 

You squeeze your pinky in a loop with his, and you each press a kiss to your hands to seal it.

“Why did you think I was going to break up with you?” Jaehyun asks after a moment. “Who else did? Why?”

So you start to explain to him the past several hours in a story with pauses for you to get through your hiccuping tears, with many deviations down side tracks through history explaining why you understand their reasoning. You talk and talk, and Jaehyun listens and holds you.

And by the time the morning sun rises, you don’t really feel better necessarily, but for the moment you feel like you’re at least being held together, you feel like maybe everything going on right now does suck immensely, but you have Jaehyun here holding you in his arms, ready to shield your fragile heart from anything else that comes your way.

Adore You <- Previous || Next -> Let Me

a/n: so this is the end of Part 1 of the Finale (I’m sorry for stretching it out into two parts, but this story isn’t able to be wrapped up in less than 40,000 words apparently). I really hated writing this, like there were so many breakups and poor y/n has to go through so much heartbreak in this part :( but it was inevitable, something I’ve been hinting at pretty much since the first part of the series I’m pretty sure. Part 2 should be posted pretty soon, so I promise the wait for it won’t be so long, but what do y’all think? Who do you think she’ll end up with? Several of them or just one? 

As usual, please let me know what you think through comments, reblogs, likes, messages, whatever. Sharing is definitely super appreciated!

[mackeydoodledoo]

I Only Swim Free: Chapter 5

Pairing: Bela Dimitrescu x (Fem!)Reader

Summary: You’ve done swimming all your life. You’ve gotten to your dream college on a scholarship for your outstanding freestyle technique back in high school. Relationships never crossed your mind however, that was before you met your swim team captain: Bela Dimitrescu.

Warning: Broken Heart, Depression, But it gets fluffier when you read more into this chapter, ends in SMUT

A/N: This chapter about to get SPICY

“Busted and Blue” - Gorillaz

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Word got out [rather quickly] that Bela’s now ex-boyfriend had been cheating on her. Since Bela went to look for you during the fraternity house party.. It was also because of how he was seeing you and her always so in close proximity to each other. Although he feels guilty for what he’s done, he’s been trying to reach back out to Bela to tell her how sorry he is and that he’ll be a better guy for her.

Lousy excuse really.. 

“To be honest I’ve heard lousier excuses from my own past exes,” You sigh, looking down at your textbook, writing down some notes for a class you missed because Bela didn’t want to be left alone, even if it was in your own apartment

“I was right about him,” Daniela called it

“What do you want a cookie?” Cassandra jokingly asks

“Yes,” Daniela says, giving her sister the ‘puppy dog eyes’ 

“Go nuts,” You say, pulling out a cookie you bought from the student center

Daniela happily takes the cookie and immediately bites into it.

“You have to unwrap the plastic first dumbass,” Cassandra sighs, deciding to go up into her room

You took Bela back to her house however, she immediately locks herself in her room. Her mother or her sisters check on her, despite her wanting your company the most. You had been trying to focus on your school work but at the same time trying to be there for Bela as much as you could was already a clashing combo to work with. Luckily, your teammates and her two sisters had been there for her too when you weren’t able to.

“Hey thanks Dani for offering to look after her tonight, I owe you one,” You sigh

“No worries, I knew her boyfriend was nothing but trouble,” She sighs, “But-but you- she’s taken a real liking to you though.”

Well, we did kiss in her car after that one fraternity house party she dragged me to, she continuously stays at my place. Not that I’m complaining though..

“Really?” You ask, slightly blushing, “Well, I wouldn’t want that on our minds right now. Thanks again!”

You heard that Dean Dimitrescu had been close to going at his throat for hurting her daughter. However, she also knew it would look bad on her part; taking her personal anger out on a student was not the best idea. 

“I’m angered just as you are Dean,” You sigh, scribbling into your notebook, breaking the lead in the mechanical pencil

Scribbling into your notebook was one way you were able to take out your frustrations.

“We trusted him,” She growls, pacing in her kitchen, “But, I do highly appreciate you being there for my daughter, is there anything I can do to repay you my dear?”

“Nope,” You sigh, “I don’t want to be given one of those special treatments, even if I am helping one of your daughters.”

I would want you to accept me as Bela’s new Lover. Please and Thank you Dean...

“Well, you’re welcome here,” She slightly smiles, “And please, when it’s after classes, you may refer to me as Ma’am, My Lady or Alcina. Alcina is my first name.”

Very fitting for an elegant lady such as yourself Ma’am.

“Yes Ma’am,” You say, “I’m going to get dinner, Do you and your daughters want anything?”

“I’m sure my girls will text you, I will make due with what we have in this fridge my dear. Thank you for the offer,” Alcina smiles

She tips her hat as you make her leave. You casually salute three fingers to her as you were about to do the same hat tip, just minus the hat. You send out a text in the Dimi-Daughters groupchat Daniela had made for the four of you. Almost immediately Bela and Daniela text you with whatever food they wanted, Cassandra being the last one. 

As soon as you and Bela show up to practice the next day, you were excused from classes as Donna had given the email out to all professors regarding State Finals, Donna has you all gathered at the poolside.

“I have the results of the semi finals roster,” She announces, “And... We are going to the State Final championship!”

You and your team cheer and congratulate each other.

“Okay okay girls calm down,” Donna calms her children, “This doesn’t mean we won’t win, so tonight we will prepare for it, this Saturday.”

In an instant all of the girls began giving their all into swim practice. You on the other hand, were just going through the motions. Not sure how to handle the sudden pressure.

“Didn’t I tell you that we all pull through this together or we lose?” Donna asks, coming up to you

“Yes coach,” You say, sighing

“You’re going to do fine, an excellent rookie like yourself should be proud you get to do this your first year,” She smiles

“True,” You sigh, beginning to shake off your nerves

“Now get your ass into the water y/l/n!” Donna yells encouragingly

After coach’s announcement you finally took a shower after skipping them to beeline it to your apartment for Bela. You turn around once you hear the shower curtain open behind you. you wipe your eyes and see Bela stepping into the shower with you. 

“Hey you,” You smile, giving her a hug

“Hey yourself,” She smiles, putting her arms on your shoulders, “Quite the show at practice today..”

“Says you, even after what happened you still managed to get your shit together and nail practice,” You smile

You snake your hands on her hips as the both of you begin washing each other from the chlorine gathered from today’s practice. Even after giving each other a shower, the both of you just settled in each others’ embrace as the hot shower began wasting away. 

“You remember when we first met in the locker room?” Bela asks, slipping on the hoodie you gave her

“How could I forget?” You smile, slipping on some shorts

“You were looking at my ass through the mirror weren’t you?” Bela asks, smirking

You almost drop your brush as your chees go red and begin heating up. You slightly look up from the mirror and see her slowly walking towards you. Like a predator stalking its prey.

“Did you... Enjoy it?” Bela flirts, turning you around and pushing you against the sink

“Well-I-uhmmm-ummm,” You stutter, trying to find the words

“You did didn’t you?” She smirks, putting her hands on your stomach

You felt yourself tense up when her palms touched your bare skin. You could feel them slowly running up your stomach and begin feeling the tips of her fingers go under your sports bra. 

“Bela! Y/n! Hurry it up I’m going to lock the swimming area soon!” Calls Donna from the entrance to the locker room

The both of you snicker as Bela drags her fingers away from your bare skin; you almost growl when her hands moved away from your skin. Bela practically moved into your place when she got the news. Thankfully her exes fraternity brothers kicked removed him from the fraternity house and helped her with her things when she decided to live with you. 

You and Bela had finally settled a day where you’d take her out to her favorite restaurant, as a make-up for not being able to see her very often. 

“Yeah, midterms are such a pain,” You sigh into your phone, “But, I’ll make sure you get tomorrow night with me okay?”

Bela decided to stay with her family for the next couple days as she’s been cooped up in your place for so long, not that she was complaining, she missed being around her family.

“Thanks for the ride y/n,” Bela sighs in relief, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” You blush, “Hey, we’ll see each other at practice later okay?”

“Yeah,” She sighs, “I gotta go, mother is calling for me. I love you.”

“Love you too,” You smile through the phone

Wait... She added I into the “love you”.... 

You didn’t say it back, no matter, you’d tell her how you’d feel about her tomorrow night. Even though you haven’t been able to see her, the both of you were able to be on the phone with each other every night before the both of you would go to bed before your classes in the morning. State finals were upon the swim team before finals. So you’ve also been working your butt off for the missed time you’ve had to sit out because of your calf injury from the first meet. 

“Hey you,” Bela smiles as she picks up the phone

“Hey,” you smile, “How you been?”

“Doing a lot better,” Bela smiles, “If you hadn’t hooked me up for that one therapy session, I would have still been sulking.”

“I wouldn’t want that happening to you,” You sigh, “Hey, it’d be better off if you stay at home for tonight. Have an exam tomorrow morning and I have. To. Study!”

“Okay,” Bela sighs, slightly pouting

“Hey,” You say, gently, “We still have dinner tomorrow night. No pouting until before then. Okay?”

She sighs, but shakes it off, “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The next evening, You and Bela settled that you would be driving. Once you reach the Dimitrescu estate, you decide to get out of your car and walk up to the front door and knock on it. Cassandra is the one to greet you. 

“Bela’s finishing up y/n,” She says, “Nice getup by the way.”

“Thanks Cass,” You sigh, adjusting your shirt

You wait around awkwardly but you see Dean Dimitrescu sipping on wine in the kitchen.

“Will you do me one big favor y/n?” She calls from the kitchen

“Of course My lady,” You say, turning to her 

“Prove to me on why you’re worthy of my daughter,” She says calmly

“Yes ma’am,” You smile

“Mother I’ll be fine,” Bela calls from the stairs 

You look up and your eyes widen. Bela is wearing a wine red lace dress; the lace drapes behind her legs. You were a sucker for lace. You were a sucker for Bela Dimitrescu. Seeing Bela Dimitrescu IN lace is a whole show.

“Wow...” you say breathlessly as she takes your hand in hers

“Don’t have too much fun now lovebirds,” Daniela teases the both of you

“Shut your mouth Dani,” Bela sighs as she drags you out the door

“Your family is something Bels,” You smile

You open the passenger seat for Bela and she smiles at you as she gets in. Just as you shut her door, you were going to open yours when you see Bela reaching over to open the door for you as best as she could.

“Why thank you my lady,” You smile, getting into your driver’s seat

As you pull into the restaurant that Bela had made reservations for, you’re again in awe. 

“Are you sure you’re fine with paying?” You ask

“You’ve done enough for me. Both taking care of me when I was heartbroken, setting me up for therapy, teaching me freestyle.. The lost goes on,” Bela smiles, “It’s my turn to treat you.”

You couldn’t argue with that. Bela takes your arm as the both of you walk into the restaurant and basically see class. Something you don’t have however, you managed to find your ‘go-to’ nice outfit and a suit jacket at a nearby thrift store. 

“Did I tell you how fine you look?” Bela whispers right into your ear

You felt a shiver crawl down your spine as she asks you.

“No,” You finally say, “Did I tell you though that you look absolutely beautiful?”

Bela blushes as she leads you to a two-person table away from the rest of the patrons.

“Mother made arrangements for us so no need to worry about money,” Bela smirks as she sips water from a fancy glass, “I can easily tell you’ve never been in a fancy restaurant before.”

“Parents could never afford it,” You say, “So, it was the cheap diners. But hey, nothing wrong with diner food every now and then.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Bela adds

After the restaurant date, the both of you reach your apartment by midnight and you allow Bela to enter your apartment first. However, just as you closed the door, she turns to you.

“What is it?” You ask her

She says nothing as she walks up to you and cups your face in her hands. She doesn’t crash her lips onto yours, giving you the chance to pull away if you so chose to. However, your lips gently mold right onto Bela’s. She lets out a high-pitched gasp as you bring her body closer to your, both of your forms fitting perfectly against each other like puzzle pieces. Your hands trail upward to find the zipper to her dress and slowly remove it, teasing her. She helps you slip her out of the dress. She turns her body towards you, revealing a black lace lingerie set.

“Oh? So you’re wearing these for me? Was this all apart of your little plan Bela Dimitrescu?” You ask, slowly walking towards her

“Whatever do you mean,” She bites back

“You know what I mean,” You coil your arm around her waist, “Any pretty kitty like yourself should be punished for tempting me.”

In one quick motion you pick her up into your arms and place her onto your bed as you settle your hips between her thighs. You dip your head down and begin kissing her along the crook of her neck. You smirk in her neck when you hear her let out a small whimper as the tip of your tongue ran gently along her neckline.

“Hmmm sweet music,” You whisper

You lift her up for her to straddle her in your lap. You give her another kiss on the lips before laying gentle kisses along her breasts. Bela guides one of your hands to cup one of her breasts and you oblige. However, your thumb rolls over her nipple, making it hard. You hear Bela let out a strangled moan. Strangled; your mouth was latched onto her throat.

“More,” Bela breathes out

You reach around her back and with a flick of your fingers, her bra unlatches. She lets it fall off her arms and she discards it somewhere onto the floor. 

“What-what do you think?” She asks, blushing

She tries to hide her flushes cheeks and turns her head away from you. You gently run your fingers along her cheek to have her look at you.

“I think, you are so fucking beautiful my love,” You say

Bela sees the moonlight reflection coming off your eyes and she drops her head down for her lips to meet yours. The kiss was at first soft and gentle however, once you gained yourself, you began losing your self control and turned the kiss to be more intense. Bela lets out a muffled gasp as she felt the pillow at the back of her head. You pull yourself away for a moment to strip off your shirt. Bela knew you were fit because of swimming. She never thought she’d be getting up close and personal with you.

“You’re beautiful,” You whisper against her ear

You kiss and lick your way down until you stopped above her bare chest. You look up at her with pleading eyes. 

‘let me’ your eyes pleaded

She runs her fingers through your hair and pushes your face into her breast. You leech onto her nipple and gently make circles around it. She arches her back, forcing your tongue to gently lick the tip of her nipple.

“Y/n!” She gasps

While you run the flat surface of your tongue along the surface of her nipple. Your hand snakes up to her other breast and you squeeze it. Then, gently squeeze her nipple. 

“Ah!” She screams

Your mouth switches onto the other breast to give the same gentle treatment. 

“Y/n...” She says breathlessly

Your fingers trace her curves as you continue your exploration of her body down to her dripping hot center.

“Are you already wet for me?” You ask, once you arrive to her panties

She nods, “You already made me excited...”

You lowly chuckle as your fingers hook around the thin lining of her panties, lifting them. She lifts her hips to help you fully remove them from her body. You, again discard them somewhere onto the floor. Your hands gently run along her thighs to hoist them over your shoulders.

“Hmm, so you were,” You smile

Bela felt you gently breathing against her wet, dripping center, making her squirm a little bit.

“If you’re just going to keep teasing me ju-”

You drag your tongue along her pulsating lips and you insert your tongue into her, making her let out many small whimpers. Her fingers run along into your hair and you feel her pulling against you. She bucks her hips to feel more of your tongue. Your arm reaches around her hip and you press your palm down, keeping her from moving her hips along with your tongue.

“Babyyyyy I need more,” She whines

You pull your tongue out from inside her and give a small kiss on her clit before crawling up to meet her face. You give her a long, lingering kiss for her to taste herself on you.

“You’ll get more kitten you need to be patient,” You chuckle, “But, damn you taste so good.”

“Give it to me now,” She growls

You hook her leg over your shoulder, so that your arm is under her thigh.

“What-what are you- AH!” Bela chokes

She felt your finger insert itself into her. 

“How does that feel baby?” You ask, looking down at her

“It feels so good,” Bela moans

“Good girl,” You coo

You slide your finger in and out of her slowly, hearing her let out little breathless whimpers was music to your ears. You stop for one moment to add another finger when you slid them back in. Bela again arches her back to feel more of your fingers. Your pace began going faster and faster.

“Y/n... I’m-I’m gonna-”

Before you let Bela climax, you force your fingers out of her and hook both of her legs around your hips. You jerk your hips forward to feel her wetness against yours. You let out a growl whilst she lets out a small whimper. You lean down towards her face as you continue grinding on her. 

“Oh god baby,” You growl, picking up your grinding pace

Bela swings her arm around your shoulder and the other around your hips and begins clawing at your back.

“I’m so close y/n,” She whispers in your ear, “Faster.”

You let out frustrated grunts as you stop for a moment.

“Why-why did you s-stop?” She asks, panting

“I want to look at you,” You smile

However, you don’t really give Bela time to process anything before you jerk your hips again, making her lean her head back into the pillow. 

“Together-together y/n,” Bela requests, “I want to cum with you..”

You smirks as you could feel yourself reaching your climax as well. You cup her face into your hands as you begin letting out pants and slight whimpers. 

“Bela...” You whisper her name into her ear, breathlessly

You could feel her nails sink deeper into your back. You didn’t really feel any pain towards her nails. You only felt her clit against yours.

“Bela... Bela... Bela!” You growl as you come undone

Bela holds onto you for dear life as the both of you slowly come down from your high. Everything was blurry in your vision however, Bela was clear as day. You smile as you lean down to kiss her. Once morning hit, you rub your eyes however, Bela’s arm drags your arm back down across her bare waist. 

“Morning baby,” You smile, kissing the back of her head

She stretches her arms as she turns her body so that she’s facing you, “Morning.”

She gives you a good morning kiss and lays in your embrace.

“Hmmm,” Bela hums

“What?” You ask

“Are you sure you haven’t had sex with a woman?” She asks, smiling

“I’m sure love,” You say, “Why?”

“Those fingers... That tongue of yours.. Worked.. Wonders.. On me,” She says, seductively

Your cheeks flush a faint red as she laughs with a low tone. You let go of her and pull the covers over your head in an attempt to prevent her from seeing you blushing however, she follows you under the covers.

“Oh? Is my girlfriend blushing now?” She smirks

“Enough already,” You groan, pulling the sheets to separate the both of you

Bela yanks on the covers and lets out an enticing giggle as she gets up to straddle you. You sit up to snake your arms around her bare midsection.

“Iubita mea,” Bela says

“Hmmm is that.. Romanian?” You ask, blushing while smiling at the same time

“Maybe,” She teases as she drops her head down to kiss you again

It was an early Saturday morning and you weren’t up for it. But, Bela agreed to drive the both of you there.

“You excited?” Bela asks

“As excited as I’ll ever be,” You sigh, “I just hope there’s no last minute events...”

“Coach gave us the whole events roster,” Bela explains, “Rest assured those are the events that are in there, we’ll be doing.”

You smile in relief, “Good, because I think I would permanently damage my calf if I ever did another 1500 meter freestyle event...”

“You’ll be fine,” Bela reassures you

The Arena was a little ways out of hometown but nothing surprising for State Finals. Your team gets there about the same time you do, and follow whomever your guide was for the day. She shows you to the locker rooms, where all of you get changed into your uniform swimsuits and make any last second preparations for the final meet of the season.

“Dimitresu University Women’s swim and dive, you ready?” Your guide comes back into the locker room

Chapter 6

[alwaysmarveling]

Sticks and Stones

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader

Warnings: death (it gets pretty depressing)

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: I do recommend reading Chapter 1 before this one, which you can find here.

Fair warning, I normally don’t read angst, let alone write it, so this could all be a failed attempt at a depressing storyline. But hey, I tried :) And thank you so much @vancityfire13 for helping me out with this chapter!

“Mama, I don’t want to go to school. I think I’m sick,” Igor trudged into the kitchen, his steps heavy and his brows knit together.

“You don’t feel warm, Igoryok. Why don’t you sit down and have some breakfast and then we’ll see how things go, yeah?” Igor nodded reluctantly as Natasha carded her fingers through his hair, trying to tame the bee’s nest that had formed on his head while he was asleep. When you entered the kitchen, you quickly adopted a look to match the frown on Igor’s face.

“What’s wrong, Iggy?”

“I don’t feel good.” You copied Natasha, feeling his forehead but finding it perfectly normal.

“What doesn’t feel good, Igoryok?” Your frowns only deepened when he shrugged.

“If you don’t tell us, we can’t help you.”

“I just don’t feel good, okay?” Both of you flinched slightly at his anger. Although he could get rambunctious and excited at times, Igor was generally sweet, always offering to share his toys with other kids and giving you and Nat random hugs “just because I love you.” Plus, he was four, and you weren’t expecting the attitude for another couple of years at least. After sharing a concerned glance with your wife, you knelt down and held Igor’s hand in yours, noticing his bottom lip wobbling and his eyes beginning to shine.

“Igor, sweetheart, what’s the matter? Why don’t you want to go to school?”

“It’s okay, Igoryok, you can tell us anything,” Nat reassured him when he started to cry, gently rubbing his back in an effort to soothe him.

“I don’t want to see Jackson.” You squeezed his hand, urging him to continue. You knew Jackson and his family; Jackson had even come over to play a couple of weeks ago. While you tried to keep the conversation going, you saw Natasha tense up the second Igor finished the sentence.

“Why don’t you want to see Jackson, honey? Did something happen?”

“Jackson said I’m stupid because my letters don’t look right, and he said I was a baby for having light-up sneakers. And he pulled me down when we were playing tag.”

“And your teachers didn’t say anything?” Natasha gritted out. It was obvious she was trying to stay calm for Igor’s sake, but any second now and Mount Vesuvius was about to explode, bringing all of Pompeii with it. Igor shook his head, his whole body trembling as he cried.

“They didn’t see it. He waited until recess and we were in the back of the playground behind the slides.”

“Igor, sweetie, why didn’t you tell them?” You tried wiping the tears off of his face as they fell, but they were quickly replaced by new ones.

“He said if I did he’d tell the whole class I was a weirdo because I wet the bed.” You butted in before Nat could start yelling, placing a hand on top of hers to try to remind her of the situation.

“I see. Igor, do you think any of the things he said were true?”

“No.” The muttered answer was hard to hear, but it was there.

“That’s right, they’re not. So don’t let that boy get in your head for one second, okay? For every bad thing that he says to you, I want you to remind yourself of at least one good thing about yourself, okay?”

“Okay, Mom.”

“Why don’t you start right now? Tell me three things you like about yourself.”

“Um, I draw good dinos.”

“That’s right,” you smiled. “Mama and I love when you give us dino pictures.”

“Maybe I can draw you one today in school.”

“We’d love that, Igoryok. Two more, buddy.” The redhead had relaxed slightly, her fingers beginning to comb through his hair once again.

“I’m good at soccer. And I have cool cleats.” You nodded at him, rubbing small circles over the back of his hand to encourage him to continue. By this point, his crying stopped, and he only paused every so often to let out a hiccup.

“I can read some of the big kid books in the library. Mr. Goldman says that it’s very impressive for a four-year-old.” Natasha chuckled as Igor puffed out his chest, Jackson’s insults long forgotten.

“It is very impressive. So-”

“Wait, Mama, I have one more!”

“And what would that be?” the redhead smiled.

“I have the two best mamas in the entire world. And they love me so much, and I love them so much too.” It took everything in you not to cry at that moment, and one look at Natasha’s face told you she was struggling as well.

“That’s right, Ig. Mama and I love you more than anything or anyone in the entire world, more than you could ever imagine. You never forget that, promise?”

“I promise, Mom, but don’t cry! It’s happy!”

“I’m very happy,” you whispered, giving him the tightest hug you could without crushing him.

“Igoryok, I need you to listen to me.” The four-year-old nodded as he turned to give your wife his full attention. “When Jackson says mean things to you, you tell him to stop, okay? Don’t be mean, but tell him firmly.”

“Firmly,” he repeated.

“And if he doesn’t stop, you tell your teacher. Okay?”

“Okay, Mama.”

“Miss Olivia is going to pick you up from school today, but Mom and I are going to talk to your teachers about Jackson as soon as we can, we promise.”

“Okay, Mama. Does that mean you and Mom are going to fight the bad guys again?”

“Yes, but just for a little bit. We’ll be back in time for dinner. Which means you have to be good for Miss Olivia or you can’t have any dessert,” Nat winked.

“Now, group hug and then it’s time to go to school,” you ordered, wrapping your arms around the two of them.

-

Igor remained mostly quiet on the car ride to school, which wasn’t unusual for him, but you and Nat found yourselves checking on him regardless.

“Mom, in school, Miss Taylor told us ‘sticks and stones can break my bones but words will never hurt me.’ Is that what she means, with Jackson?”

“Well, yes. Basically, it means that when people say mean things about us, like the things that Jackson said to you, we shouldn’t let it hurt us.”

“How do you do that?”

“You do what we did at breakfast. You know in your heart that what he says isn’t true, so you ignore it. And then you remind yourself of all the good things about yourself.”

“Okay, Mom.”

“We love you, buddy,” Natasha reminded him as she brought the car to a stop. “If anything else happens, you tell us and we’ll help you, okay?”

“Yes, Mama. I love you too.”

“Alright. Then you have the best, most amazing day at school, okay, lovebug?”

“I will, Mom. Bye bye!” With a kiss on each of your cheeks, Igor put on the Avengers backpack that was half his size and jumped out of the car to meet his teacher and friends at the front of the school. With Igor out of the car, Natasha’s anger returned ten-fold.

“‘Sticks and stones can break my bones but words will never hurt me,’ huh? That’s the best they can teach?”

“Nat-”

“You know it’s outdated, and it’s totally not true at all! Of course words can hurt, you know that, Y/N!”

“I know,” you murmured, thinking back to all the pain and chaos a bunch of reporters had caused over some rumors about the Avengers.

“And who does that kid think he is talking about Igor like that?”

“Natty, he’s four.”

“Being four doesn’t give you an excuse to be a bully!”

“You’re right, it doesn’t,” you sighed, “but being four means he has time to change. You know that at this age they usually get it from seeing other people do it.” Two minutes of driving in silence passed before Natasha spoke up again.

“You’re right,” she sighed, her shoulders slowly dropping. “It just makes me so angry that he’d do that to him. And Igor didn’t do anything about it. What if something else happens in the future and he doesn’t protect himself? Igor doesn’t even wet the bed anymore. He knows that and he still let that kid scare him. Or what if Igor doesn’t want to tell us when bad things happen?” The longer she spoke, the softer her voice became as anger dissolved into sadness and concern.

“Well,” you placed your hand over hers that rested on your thigh, “the good thing is Igor is also four. It’s good that something like this happened now rather than later because we have time to talk to him and teach him that we’ll always be there for him. Today was one step towards that. It’ll be okay, Nat. We’ll make sure it is. Especially if we’re going to have another little one on the way.” Your wife smiled at that.

“Igor’s going to be an amazing brother.”

“He really is,” you laughed as you picked up her hand and linked her fingers in yours.

“I will admit, though,” your eyes returned to your wife’s face in time to notice her quirk an eyebrow, “I thought we’d have some more time before we had to deal with the ‘sick to get out of school’ trick.”

“You and me both,” you giggled. “That kid is too smart for his own good.”

“How much do you want to bet he learned it from Tony?”

“Well, he definitely didn’t learn it from Steve.” All the remaining tension in the car dissolved as you two chuckled at the thought. 

When the car became quiet once more, you brought her hand up to your lips. “I. Love. You,” you murmured, each word punctuated with a kiss to her knuckles.

“I love you more. And everything’s going to be okay,” she repeated, more so reassuring herself than you.

“It is. Now, let’s go over that mission plan one last time. We have some butts to kick.”

---

“Okay, Steve’ll meet you guys at the rendezvous point. Get in, and get out. And don’t let yourselves get caught. It’s just an info grab, but it’s an important one.”

“Got it, Hill. See you later.” After ending the call with Maria, you turned to Natasha. “You ready, hon?”

“Yeah, I just can’t help but shake this feeling. I know the mission’s short, but…” You tilted your head slightly to meet her eyes, which was a bit difficult since she’d lowered her gaze to the floor.

“No, I get it. I think it’s just the events of this morning, yeah? And it definitely doesn’t help that we can’t have outside communication.” After a recent mission gone wrong, Fury had temporarily prohibited all outside communication on missions unless absolutely necessary, meaning you and Nat would only be able to communicate with each other until Steve picked you guys up. “Let’s just finish this mission and get back to Igor. Things’ll be better after that.”

“You’re right,” the redhead agreed, giving you an uneasy smile. You rolled your neck once before giving your wife a quick peck on the cheek.

“Alright, let’s do this.”

---

“Where have you guys been? I’ve been waiting for two hours!” His check and money was lying on the table, his meal eaten long ago.

“Sorry, Rogers, a minor complication meant we had to be a bit more careful. But we got all the info, and there’s no trouble.” Natasha slid a small flash drive across the booth. He simply nodded, pocketing the device and standing up.

“Let’s go.”

“Everything okay, Steve?”

“Um, yeah. Fury asked that you guys stop by the tower first though.” You frowned, prompting Nat to slip her hand into yours.

“Is it important? We wanted to get back and see Igor. We told him we’d be back for dinner, and we’re already late.” Before Steve could respond, a waitress walked up to the table.

“Oh, hey! I see your friends are here. Do you guys want to place an order?”

“Um, actually, I’m so sorry. Something came up and we have to go. Thank you so much, though.”

“Of course, have a nice night, guys.” You flashed the waiter a smile and handed her two twenty dollar bills as an apology before following Steve out of the restaurant.

“Steve, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he responded, his voice void of emotion.

“C’mon, you know neither of us is buying that. Is everyone okay?”

“Just hurry up,” he muttered. He was walking so quickly that you and Nat were practically jogging to keep up. You shared a worried glance with Natasha, but neither of you spoke up again.

-

After a thirty-minute drive, you’d reached the tower, and Steve sent the two of you up to Fury’s office without another word.

“Do you think we did something wrong, Natty?”

“I don’t see what we could’ve done wrong. We’ll find out soon enough, though,” she sighed. She sent you a small smile in an effort to calm you, as she could tell you were becoming quite anxious, but she was rather nervous herself.

Fury was waiting for you guys when the elevator doors opened, which only served to make the two of you even more on edge than you were before.

“Romanoff, L/N, follow me please.” He led you to his office, his demeanor stoic and unreadable as per usual, but something was off. As you placed a hand on Nat’s lower back, you found her spine to be stiff. She must’ve sensed it too. “Sit.” The three of you sat in silence for about thirty seconds, during which you realized what was wrong. The twinkle he always had in his eyes, whether from playfulness, determination, or something in between, was missing. That realization was enough to make you crack.

“Fury. Why’d you call us in here? I hate to rush you but we’ve got a kid to go home to.” You and your wife noticed when he flinched at your last sentence.

“Right.” Both of you stared at him expectantly but quickly became agitated when he didn’t seem to make any move to continue.

“Fury. What is it.” You placed a hand on Nat’s arm before she could jump out of the chair, but if he didn’t speak in about two seconds you’d be right there with her.

“We received a call about three hours ago about a car crash. A massive pileup caused by a drunk driver during the school rush hour. Two people were seriously injured.” 

“I- I don’t understand. You want us to help with a car crash?” you asked, your voice shaky but light. “Fury, with all due respect, this is ridiculous. This isn’t our area of-” 

“Why are you telling us about this?” Natasha cut into your rambling.

“Romanoff… this was three hours ago. Just outside of the elementary school.”

Three hours ago. What was three hours ago? Three hours ago would’ve been when Olivia was bringing Igor back home from school. But that couldn’t be what Fury was talking about. It was a different kid, a different family, maybe even a different school; Fury hadn’t been specific. No, you and Nat would go back home and they’d both be there. They had to be there. 

“By the time the ambulance got there, paramedics suspected that they were both gone. They called time of death at the hospital. I’m so sorry.” You couldn’t tell when exactly your heart stopped beating, when all the blood left your face. He couldn’t be talking about what you thought he was. He wasn’t even looking you in the eye, dammit.

“Gone? What do you mean by gone? Who’s ‘they’?” You spoke in a whisper, not able to speak any louder. With each second that passed, you could feel Nat’s forearm getting tighter as she clenched her fists harder and harder.

“Fury,” Natasha finally spoke, her voice gravelly, “If you’re telling me what I think you’re telling me, you’re going to have to be very clear with me. So what. Are. You. Saying.”

“Igor is dead. Your son is dead. I’m so-”

“Stop saying you’re sorry!” This time it was Nat’s turn to hold you back, grabbing onto your waist when you slammed your hands on Fury’s desk. “You have no reason to be sorry, he’s not- No, you’re wrong. That doesn’t make any sense. How in the hell would there be a drunk driver at 3 in the afternoon? No, you’re wrong! Nat, he’s wrong, right?” You looked at your wife, eyes shining, but her expression was unreadable. Her arms were crossed against her chest as she stood in the center of the room, and you couldn’t help but remember the last time she looked that alone—at the SHIELD party all those years ago.

---

She was standing in the corner with her back to everyone in the room. You didn’t believe it was her at first—sure, redheads weren’t that common, but how could it be her? You hadn’t seen her in months, although it wasn’t from lack of trying. Besides, this woman looked so unbelievably… small. And sad. And alone. This was a party, for heavens’ sake, and she looked like she was stuck in solitary confinement. None of those sounded anything like the woman you’d met.

But with a shake of your head, you turned back to the bar, taking a sip from your drink with the intent of clearing her from your mind. You got over her months ago, Y/N. It was literally just one date. Stop thinking about her. Besides, what are the chances she works for SHIELD anyway?

Yet, ten minutes later, the woman remained in her place and looked just as pitiful as she did when you first saw her. Your mind couldn’t stop your legs from swinging off of the chair and walking over to her.

“Um, excuse me?” Your heart stopped when you saw her face. It was her. She was glammed up for the party, but it was Nat, and she looked just as beautiful as the first time you’d seen her. 

“Y/N?” Your heart caught in your throat for a second as if you hadn’t thought that it could be her, not allowing you to respond until after you’d taken another sip from your drink.

“Nat.” You didn’t know what else to say. You hadn’t really planned it out, to be honest. Your body just kind of… brought you here. The two of you just stared at each other, neither of you too sure of what to say. Suddenly, all the anger you’d had towards her over the past few months pushed its way to the surface. “Did you lose my number or something? Get a new phone?”

“Y/N, I- what are you doing here?”

“Really? We had an amazing first date, you told me you can’t wait for the next one, and then you didn’t talk to me for months? And then, when I do find you, that’s all you have to say? I mean, obviously I was the fool for believing yo-”

“Are you stalking me?” Her eyes narrowed.

“Are you serious right now? No, I’m not stalking you! I work for SHIELD now, which you would know if you didn’t freaking ghost me!”

“You- you work for SHIELD?”

“Yes, I’ve been working for SHIELD for six months.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I… I have to go.�� You watched her, your eyes blazing and nostrils flaring, as she walked out of the room. She never came back that night.

---

“I have to go,” Nat interrupted the silence.

“Natasha, wait. You really shouldn’t be going anywhere like this.” Fury stood from his chair but remained behind his desk.

“I’m going home.”

“Natasha, please, just hold on a seco-” Unlike that night, you followed Nat out of the room. The two of you were out the door before Fury could stop you.

-

When you got home, the house was dark and Olivia’s car wasn’t there. That didn’t deter either of you, though.

“Igor! Igor! Mom’s home!”

“Igoryok, it’s Mama!” When neither of you heard a response, the two of you frantically began running through the house. You searched room after room, checking each one and the hallway closet at least three times. When your legs turned to lead and you couldn’t breathe any longer, you dropped to your knees, completely unaware of what part of the house you were in.

That’s how Natasha found you—in Igor’s room, sobbing, your knees digging deep into the hardwood floors and your head resting on his pillow right next to his stuffed pig and the green baby blanket he refused to sleep without.

“Y/N,” she murmured, her voice broken and tears trailing down her flushed cheeks. Your wife stumbled her way over to you and collapsed by your side. Wrapping an arm around your shoulder, she pulled you as close as she could, and you let her.

-

The two of you cried for what felt like a million lifetimes, not stopping until you physically ran out of tears, your eyes so dry that it hurt to open them. Your head leaned against Nat’s shoulder. Both of you stared at the wall ahead of you with an empty gaze, the only sound heard in the room being your shallow breaths.

“You were right,” you whispered, your throat dry.

“About what?” Nat’s voice was as quiet and hollow as yours.

“Sticks and stones can break my bones but words will never hurt me.” Miss Taylor had told your son that words could never hurt him, but she was wrong. Hearing the words that Igor was dead; that your son was gone; that you would never get to see him earn his high school diploma, or get a job that he was passionate about, or grow up to be a happy adult, or even hug him one last time; that you would never get to see him become an amazing warrior like you’d predicted just five years ago—those words caused you the most pain you’d ever felt in your entire life.

-----

Tagging: @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

[sunaswife]

Summary: It’s been five years since you’ve seen your ex, Rin. He’s still not over you and you’re not over him. When he finds out you have children he thought he didn’t have a chance. Then he finds out they’re his? All of a sudden you’re teaching Suna how to be a single dad.

🔪: THIS CHAPTER WILL CONTAIN AN ATTEMPTED SUICIDE SCENE PLEASE BE ADVISED IF YOU CHOOSE TO NOT READ THEN SKIP THE ITALICS AND START READING AGAIN WITH THE REGULAR FONT

Warnings: Fluff, angst I guess, drama, and cuteness twin overload

Previously Up Next Masterlist

Chapter Ten

“Don’t worry I will save the princess and the queen!” Rini yelled with a paper towel sword. “Rawr!!!” Rin sat on his knees and flared his arms. “Oh no save us!” Akira yelled and you both stayed huddled on the couch. “I’m going to eat the princess and the queen.” Rin growled and attack Rini. Rini fell on his back and Rin began tickling his son.

Rini immediately began laughing and thrashing around under his dad and you were trying to tell them to be careful so Rini wouldn’t pee on himself. “See mom, boys are useless.” Akira muttered and stood up on the couch. Before you can scold her she hopped on Rin’s back and began pulling his hair. “Bad dragon don’t tickle the knight!” She huffed and began smack. “Oww, what the fuck—“ Rin hissed and gripped Akiras shoulders. He flipped her and made her land on her back (gently) and began tickling her as well.

Akira’s laugh filled the living room and Rini was trying to catch his breath. “Mom save us!” Akira yelled. “Jesus Christ.” You sighed and did exactly what Akira did. You wrapped your arms around his neck and your chest rubbed his back. He froze and Akira caught her breath. She lifted her legs and with her feet pushed him back and Rin lost his balance. You fell back and Rin landed right on top of you. “Ow..” you mumbled and rubbed your head. “I’m sorry.” Rin groaned and turned, his face rested right between your breasts. He slowly lifted himself and he looked at your chest. He looked up at your face and saw the embarrassment. “Holy shit I’m sorry!” He said and immediately pulled away.

“It’s okay. Sorry for landing on your back.” You muttered and he held out his hand, you grabbed it and he pulled you up. “Mommy and daddy sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” Your kids sang and you scowled. “Come on, time for bed.” You immediately said and they began to whine. “No cuz then daddy’s gonna leave.” Akira whined. “No arguing. It’s late and momma and I need to have a talk.” He said and carried them both.

He walked them to their room and began tucking them in. They kept protesting that they didn’t want him to leave but he said that he had to and it was final. He was going to come back and see them anyways.

A crying fest began and it took almost an hour for them to calm down and eventually they knocked out due to exhaustion. Finally you and Rin sighed and closed the door to their room. “I can’t believe you did that for five years already.” Rin said and rubbed his shoulder. “I need to see a chiropractor.” You muttered, “me too.” He replied. You made your way to the kitchen and took out a wine cooler, “want one?” You asked, he nodded and you tossed it and he caught it.

“I’m gonna need like four of these.” You said and Rin snorted. “You bet.” He sighed and you both got comfortable on the couch. “Where do i start?” Rin hummed. “Post breakup...?” You suggested and he nodded. “Once upon a time—“ he started and you nudged him with your foot. “I’m your ex not your kid.” You said and he chuckled.

“Alright. So it started when—“

“Sweetie please talk to us..” Rintarou’s mother knocked on her sons door. “I’m fine.” Rin spat out. “Just leave me alone.” He said as he held the pig plush in his arms. “Rintarou I’m worried. Please.” His mother begged. “What do you want me to say?!” He raised his voice causing his mother’s eyes to widened.

He’s never ever raised his voice at her. “The girl that I love left me. How am I supposed to feel?! I don’t have anyone anymore!” He cried. “Sweetie she’s your first love, of course it’ll hurt but—“ “She’s my only love! Don’t you get it! I don’t want to be with anyone but her. She was my rock, she was there when nobody else was. She supported me and inspired me to be better and now she’s gone.” He sobbed and squeeze the pig plush. 

He saw the photo of you and him smiling by his bed and his chest tightened. “You fucking idiot!” He yelled at himself. He threw the plush and grabbed his wallet from his desk. He opened the door and his mom was standing there looking at her son in shock.

“Rintarou—you’re out. Are you hungr—“ “I’ll be back in a few days.” He told her. “Wait what? Why—Rintarou I know you’re heartbroken but you’ll find someone who will truly love you and appreciate—“ “Don’t you get it you old hag?! She loved me and appreciated me! But I ruined it! I ruined everything!” He neared his mom causing her to take a step back.

His eyes widened and he saw the fear in his own mother’s eyes. “Mom I—“

Slap

“I’m sick and tired of you being stupid! She’s gone. She doesn’t want you. Just move on. It won’t be easy but you’ll get over her eventually.” She told her son and he wiped his face with his sleeve. “I’m going to Miyagi and I’m going to find her.” He had decided, “With what money Rintarou? That’s a day long trip.” His mother asked.

He looked at her and she shook her head, “I’m not giving you money to see your little ex girlfriend just for you to come back even more depressed.” She told him and he rolled his eyes and slammed his bedroom door.

His mother sighed.

That night she got into a fight with her husband. “Rintarou is severely depressed and he’s having mood swings over some girl!” She hissed and his dad sighed. “My love, he’ll get over her eventually. He just needs his space—“ Rintarou’s parents were both interrupted by banging on their front door. They looked at eachother confused and his dad went to answer.

When he opened the door he was met with the gray haired twin. “Osamu hi..what brings you here—“ “Where is Rin?” He immediately asked and pushed through them. “What do you mean, he’s in his room.” Rin’s father said. “Excuse me.” Osamu quickly panted as he ran up the stairs. It was incredible disrespectful to barge in unannounced and without taking off your shoes but he wanted to make sure that his best friend was okay.

He found Rin’s door and tried the door knob. “Leave me alone!” Rin’s voice cracked as he tried to open the new pain meds his mother bought. “Rin listen to me, open the door. Please.” Osamu begged. “Osamu whats the meaning of this?” Rin’s father automatically asked. “Rin open the door.” Osamu repeated. Everyone else was muted from his mind his watery eyes and shaking hand made it hard for him to open the pill bottle.

He didn’t answer and Osamu’s heart stopped. He took a few steps back, then rammed his shoulder in the door. Rin flinched and turned to see his door slightly cracked. Osamu winced at the pain and he stepped back once more instead of his shoulder he lifted his leg to kick and he tried breaking it once more.

“Fuck Fuck Fuck.” Suna muttered as he kept his struggle. Finally the pill bottle cap unscrewed and his eyes widened. He held the pills in his palm and he put his head back to swallow. Even if he chokes trying to swallow the dry pills it doesn’t matter. He grabbed his water bottle, the one you put stickers all over and he drank as much as his throat could take.

It hurt swallowing down those pills, his throat burned and it felt like he was being cut from the inside. From the corner of his eye the door bursted open and came in Osamu with Suna’s poor weeping mother being held by her husband, his father. “Are you a fucking idiot?!” The gray haired twin screamed and immediately pulled Suna to his side. “Call 119 NOW!” Osamu yelled. “Leave me alone Samu—“ “Like hell I will! What would Y/N think if she find out you did this?!” He yelled. Tears filled his eyes and he could barley see his best friend. Rin stayed quiet and his gaze shifted passed Osamu’s shoulder.

“Y/N...what are you doing here?” Suna whispered and Osamu saw Suna’s eyes next to him. “What do you mean I’m stupid? I just feel so lonely... I said I was sorry. But you didn’t want to listen.” Suna began to cry once more and Osamu hugged him. “It’s gonna be okay. Please stay with me Rin.”

“Oh my god.” You cried, “I’m so sorry.” You apologized. “Hey hey it’s okay. I’m fine now.” Suna smiled softly and held you in his arms. “You could have been dead because of me.” You smacked his chest. Even in tears You looked so beautiful.

“In all honesty it was my fault to begin with. I shouldn’t have played with your heart. And when you left, it broke my heart. And I desperately wanted to get it back. I guess it showed how much I loved you.”

“How much I still love you.” He said softly.

“Rin you’re insane.” You wiped your eyes. “And what happened after?” You asked. “Well I had a dream about you and you seemed disappointed in the actions and state I was in. So I decided to try to be better than I was before. So that eventually you can take me back. I don’t know if you noticed but I’m a bit more social.” He joked and your heart swelled.

“In all honesty you were my motivation out of my depression. Sometimes I still get episodes and it sucks but I’ve been fine for a while now.” He admitted. “So you literally did a 180 just for..me?” You hiccuped. “Yeah. I love you. Always have and always will.” He looked into your eyes hopefully.

“Do you want to move in?” You asked and his eyes widened. “You want me to move in?” He asked. “Well how else are we gonna raise two kids? Our schedules are always changing. It makes sense to just live together.” You said and he nodded.

“Does that mean we can like share a room and cuddle like last night?”

“No.”

🔪: I know this was a lot but I wanted it to end a little positively

🏷: @therealwalmartjesus @differentballooncollection @aaesuki @atsunflower @dope-squish @prettysetterboiss @june-phantom @tomo-uwu @austriasmariazelle @xrnia @katsulia @aprettyfruit @shut-your-eyes-kiss-me-goodbye @tvbiio @sun-daddy-yoriichi @kamenoyaki @ppangiiroo @loeyprivvv @kmskj92 @lovinnoya @sarahvvictoria @tris-does-stuff @mokkeguts @sunaluvr6969 @bara-rose-would @sempiternal-amour @volleybloop @leykyuu @bokutoichigo @stfucanunot @iloveanime691 @tpwkatsumu @ohrintarou @shoutosimp @mqrinqcele @bokutosdivineass @anngelllla @toworuu @hidden-otaku-stuff @seijohiselite @caxsthetic @aquariarose @hhwanggu @bakuhoetoedoroki @yoozuku @osamus-onigiri @akaashi-todorki @donica95 @kakaokenma @airheadpillar

[captainsimagines]

To Topple A Giant || Finale

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 10 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Warnings in this Chapter: strong language; slight reference to past sexual abuse; fluff 

Word Count: 6,700+

Author’s Note: Guys... the finale! I’m crying actual tears lmao. Thank you for reading my words. It means the world.

~

The New Compound, July 2025, 7:09pm

      The extra hour of sunlight this time of year was the easiest excuse to use for lounging on the roof to watch the sun set slowly. The compound no longer touches the clouds, but it still provides a rich view of the landscape across. There is no blowing of horns or shouts of the road hecklers; it’s a simple hour of solace to rest your chin against your arms, eat your snacks, and watch the sky change colors until nothing remains but the possibility of counting the stars. 

“Hey… can I sit here?”

Your heart does a little jump at the sound of his voice. Traitor, you want to say to the pesky organ, but remain quiet as Steve wanders over to stand by you. He’s close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. 

“Do what you will, Captain.” It’s simple enough of a response, you figure. You look down at the granola bar in your hand, turning it over a few times before rolling your eyes at the silly gesture. “Granola bar?”

He nods, watching as you snap it in half, and grabs the piece. “Thanks.”

You eat in cooperative silence. You take small bites, saving the granola bar so you have something to focus on during the length of time Steve decides to stay up here. He seems to be doing the same. “So what brings you out here? Another depressive episode?”

“I happen to have the perfect amount of depressive episodes, thank you very much.”

You snort, “Ditto.”

He takes a small bite and rolls the granola over his tongue. “No, I uh… I actually came out here to watch the sunset.”

“That’s sweet.” You shrug and admit your reason to him without a second thought. “I came out here to be sad, so.”

“Thor’s visit isn’t doing you any good?”

Thor is genuinely looking better. He’s started braiding his hair again, exercising with the help of Quill and Bruce, and participating in conversation without being addressed first. Seeing him makes you happy, but there’s still a glint in his eyes that reminds you of the lowest point of his life. And his lowest point was also yours. Sometimes you just want to forget. “He looks better. Healthier, got some light back in his eyes. It’s just whenever we look at each other we think of the same thing, I guess.”

Steve hums low and his shoulder brushes yours. “Loki.”

“It’s good to reminisce and all but I’ve got my limits,” you say.

“What was the special connection between you and Loki anyway?”

You grin at such an innocent question. Steve had never been close to Loki, didn’t really like him much, but he tolerated the God wandering about. You figure he genuinely wants to know. “I met him a little bit before I was assaulted. Everyone in the compound had their suspicions but no one asked. It was like they were avoiding me but also trying to help, I don’t really know. It was a weird time. And Loki, after we caught that dragon thing and really, really properly met, just straight up asked me why I was so distant all of a sudden.” Your chest warms at the memory.  “I told him. And you know what the first thing he said to me was?”   

Steve shakes his head a little and his eyes follow the tilt of your mouth. “‘What a cunt’.”  

He startles himself into a laugh, the rough word not expected. You continue, “It was the first time I laughed in four months.”

Steve follows your gaze out to the sunset. He suddenly feels guilty, out of the loop, sad. You had only mentioned your assault to him once when you discovered Tony’s afterlife gifts, and he never brought it up again. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice you were-”

“Bucky had just moved into the tower and all of your attention was on him. I don’t blame you for not seeing me.”

It’s true, but Steve doesn’t forgive himself. He’s had two years to check up on you and because of his own selfish choice, he’s let you slip from his fingers. A question bubbles from the back of his mind — one that he doesn’t think twice about finally asking. If he does, he won’t ask.  “Do you miss… me?”

“That’s a stupid question.”

“Sam put the idea in my head and—”

You sigh, “Steve, it’s the fact that he had to put the idea in your head. I can lie and say I’ve been all fine and dandy, or I can tell the truth and say I’ve been all fine and dandy. Take your pick.”

Steve stares at you for a long moment, mouth parting around invisible words. You’re staring at the sunset, avoiding his gaze but aware of his eyes on you, and he misses you. He truly, terribly, misses you. He decides he’s got nothing more to lose — he’s already lost you. “Well, I miss you. Do with that what you will.”

The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes: wind in your ears, legs shifting when too much weight has been applied, tiny sniffs of the nose. You don’t really know what to do with that information. Steve misses you. And you miss him. But he doesn’t deserve to know that. There’s been no apology from him, just things he’ll do to appease Sam. 

At the three minute mark, you groan quietly and turn to him. “Are you seriously still going to watch the sunset up here?”

Steve smirks and watches you from his peripheral. He really has missed being on the receiving end of your various tones of voices. “I have been told that I’m impossible to get rid of, so yeah.”

His company isn’t all that bad.  

Present Day, 2025, 9:07am

      Perhaps there were good things that came from being locked up for over two weeks, alone. Last time you were locked up with the team and there was absolutely no special treatment after that. Now you’re resisting the urge to burst out laughing as Steve piles on the seventh massive pancake on your plate; or rolling your eyes as Sam keeps asking if you want more maple syrup — ‘What flavor? We’ve got six!’ — and Peter’s drowning Bucky with questions about who he encountered at the wedding. 

“Is it the same as Netflix Narcos?”

“No,” you say bluntly. 

“Is the Amazon series legit? Like, did Omar really kill the DEA agent?”

“No.”

“Is Omar as evil as they say?”

“No.”

“Damn,” Peter groans, piling a forkful of pancakes into his mouth. “Nothing’s as exciting as it seems, huh?”

Everyone looks to him, then to each other.

Steve clears his throat, “I was literally shot.”

Mouth full, you follow. “And I was abused for years.”

“And I had to deal with them while with HYDRA,” Bucky says with his mouth full too.

“Man, they shot at me. That counts,” Sam adds.

“And I finally got to use the shield. While being shot at,” Scott says.

You interject, “Technically I was being shot at.”

Even with such a cloud of violence, with gruesome memories — memories that would just be shoveled into the pile of things that no one is ever going to talk about again  — you all begin laughing. Poor Peter missed out on a lot, but he can put two and two together. He knows this is his only chance to ask before you all lock it away and call it just another mission. It doesn’t hurt to humor him. 

And even though you won’t mention it to any one else unless they ask — this wasn’t just another mission for you or Steve. Things have changed and the both of you know it. The aches within your chest are no longer negative or a bother, but instead are blooming flowers that have laid dormant for years. You’ve been plucking petals for as long as the two of you can remember, and it’s about damn time you both end up on the same page. 

Everything has been quiet. Sure, there are bounties on everyone’s head but when is there not? You’ve pissed off more cartel leaders and gang leaders and political enemies than you can count on two hands, so this enemy territory is not all that foreign. You recognize the high trees, the gray skies, the mud beneath your boots. But you’ve got friends on your team that know how to climb those trees; friends on your team that know how to move the clouds and make the sky the talk; friends on your team that would hump through mud and snow watching your six. 

You can’t believe you even thought about leaving after the mission in the first place. This is where you belong, where all of you belong, because you’re the only ones with good hearts who qualify for the job. 

As breakfast winds down, Steve takes the opportunity to sprinkle in moments of long-awaited public displays of affection. When you go to refill your orange juice, he sneaks a kiss on your cheek. When you go to wash your plate, he makes sure Peter is looking the other way before patting your ass. And when you’re the one to envelope his slim waist from behind, he melts in your combined warmth.  

“So, about our date,” Steve inquires, cheeks turning pink but voice unwavering. He looks brand new, refreshed, and there’s a shine in his eyes that you haven’t seen since forever. You can’t remember the last time you have, but you figure it must have been back when the world hadn’t yet swallowed him whole. Now, he’s burning bright with the youth his soul has missed. 

You jump up and down, “Ooo, exciting!”

Steve takes you by the waist, swinging you in every direction. It’s uncoordinated, messy, and not exactly dancing but it’s pure. “Chinese? Pizza? Just fries?”

“¿Por qué no los tres?” Pursing your lips, you wait for his answer. 

“That can be arranged.”

You gasp dramatically, “You’re spoiling me.”

“Well I have two years to make up for it.”

That startles a laugh from deep inside your chest. “That’s gonna be our inside joke now, huh? Two of the worst years of our lives and we’re joking about it.”

He blushes along with you. “I think that describes our relationship perfectly.”

“Our relationship…” Your voice comes out like a melodic whisper and Steve feels it in his bones.

He grins down at you but before he can respond, someone enters the common room rather cautiously. 

“Oh, now what the hell are you doing here?” Steve demands, pushing you to stand behind him. The gesture is nice, but completely unnecessary. Friday would have alerted the team if someone entered the grounds armed. 

Agent Kavert raises his hands, “Relax. I’m not here to arrest you or anything.”

Steve tries to move his shoulders in a way where Agent Kavert can’t see your head. But you maneuver around him, somehow ending up peeking your head through Steve’s underarm. “If I know the law, and I think I do, you can’t really arrest someone in their own house anyway, right?” You pat Steve repeatedly on his side. “Right?”

Before Steve can respond, Agent Kavert speaks. With Steve guarding you, it seems the only thing Agent Kavert wants to do is get in and get out as fast as he can. “I just came to apologize. Ballistics came back and the evidence does show that you didn’t kill Ernesto Vega. It was Ramirez’s issued gun.”

Yeah, you think. The gun Seda stole.

“Oh, what a breath of relief! I almost forgot I was there.”

He sighs and his lips pull into a small smile. “You’re not gonna tell me where Ramirez is, huh?”

Steve takes this as his cue to leave you two alone, but not before squeezing your hand on his way out. He nods over to Peter, who’s still crouching in the kitchen, unseen by Kavert. Peter gives him an enthusiastic thumbs up,  happy to spy for his Captain. But you know he’s really asking Peter to take care of you while he’s gone.  

You let out a heavy sigh. Omar has been wanted for years for another murder he didn’t even commit. And now, he’s wanted for another. He may be a giant with morals, but even he can’t escape the gruesome reality that plagues the wicked. 

“I don’t even know where he is. If you came looking for answers—”

“No, I just… Everything’s been so fucked up since half the universe came back. And the possibility of an Avenger being bad, having played us for years — I think it just scared a lot of people.” Agent Kavert actually looks sincere. He adjusts his footing and chuckles a little under his breath. There’s a fine line creasing his forehead, but it isn’t formed from stress. He’s smiling, an honest look, and his eyebrows pull inward. “And Shakespeare? Really?”

Rolling your eyes, you shrug and lean back against the counter. “When half the world disappears and takes your family and friends with it, there’s really not much else to do.” 

And besides, Loki was really into Shakespeare.

You continue, deciding at the last second to throw Agent Kavert a bone about your past. “Shield didn’t know but Nick Fury did. So did Pierce. And when Shield fell, Fury just hid it even more.” You give him a half smile. “We weren’t helping the cartel. We were slowly taking it apart.”

Agent Kavert nods, thinking it over. “The deal Jackeline made with us was pretty simple. She’d tell us all the inside secrets that she knew and in exchange, no charges against her and none so serious for you.”

Your shoulders slump and you shoot him a blank stare. “Was it really that simple? Like, I could have just used her as my one free call?”

“Joke all you want. You should have called us when Shield fell. The double agent thing was risky and everyone needs help taking down a giant like that.”

“I did have help. Involving more people was never planned.”

“He was just as much our mission as he was yours.”

Agent Kavert, as sorry as he looks, still doesn’t seem to get it. But that’s fine, you think. Not everyone can. And you’re not in the mood to argue anymore. “No… he wasn’t.”

He seems to read your mind because he simply accepts your answer. “I really am sorry for accusing you. And for the government arresting you alone and letting the white man go free.”

A tiny snort tickles your nostrils. Agent Kavert is white, and it’s even more amusing considering he’s being serious. “Thanks… I guess.”

He turns to leave, seemingly normal, until he spins on his heel and claps his hands. “Oh! And by the way — don’t leave the country. The charges of conspiracy and murder have all been dropped. But there’s evidence of drug smuggling. So, you’re on house arrest.”

Your eyes widen and you reply with a sarcastic yell. “Thanks!” He turns to leave again. “You’re fucking with me, right?”

He glances over his shoulder, “Could not have let you just get away with it. Some of that smuggling was under no order from Shield at all.”

“You know I can easily disable that ugly ass ankle bracelet you’re about to give me?”

He chuckles low, and finally waves goodbye. “Goodbye, Agent Y/LN.”

You stand dumbfounded, slightly annoyed, but you figure it’s better than actual jail time. Peter rises from his hiding spot and walks over to you, blowing air from his mouth. “Friend of yours?”

You whip around to point a finger, scream and laugh mixing into one. “No friend!”

Peter finally hears that accent Steve can’t stop talking about.

       It’s a tiny portrait, sealed in a tiny frame and hidden in a tiny room. The frame is black with professional wooden carvings that make the sides look like perfectly detailed tree trunks. It’s in between the portrait of Tony and Natasha’s bracelet. Tony wears the same AC/DC shirt Steve has somehow stolen and claimed as his own. He’s got this sarcastic grin, some type of wrench in one hand while his other rests on his hip. He stands in his lab, glasses pushed up onto his head and black soot smudged on his cheek. You think Peter snapped the photo back in 2017. 

But the middle portrait is your favorite. It’s the only photo he ever allowed to be taken of him. Brushing your index finger against the glass, you trace the small outlines of Loki’s jawline, to his thin pink lips, to the bulb of his nose, to the waves of his hair. He sits caught off guard, book in his hand and in regular human clothing. He shoots a rather annoyed but joyful look over his shoulder as the camera was shoved in his face. You know for sure Wanda took that photo.

“You’re not dead,” you say as you study the blue of his frozen eyes. A God doesn’t die, you remember him saying. Loki was wrong about a lot of things, but you pray he wasn’t wrong about this. There’s a small part of you that wants to speak the same words to Tony and Natasha, but there’s only so many times the world’s axis can shift for a miracle. You tap the glass, sighing a breath of acceptance, and finally let go. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Smiling up at the ceiling, you think you’re right about this one.

      It’s quiet. The only sounds are the mild ripping of wrapping paper and small ‘thank you’s’ from the team. Everyone got each other something — granted, everyone got something small for everyone. No matter how much Tony joked about still splurging on Christmas shopping, his promises weren’t exactly kept. He’s gotten everyone things they actually need or wanted. Steve, a new drawing pad; Natasha, a bright pink knit sweater; Rhodey, a new watch; Bruce, a pair of sunglasses; Nebula, a dark blue knitted sweater that she immediately presses against her cheek, eyes focused on the ground as she savors the soft brush; you, the full collection of Shakespeare's plays and sonnets. And he finally presents the baby’s crib to Pepper, constructed three weeks after she originally asked him to. 

“I know how much you like to reenact A Midsummer Night’s Dream in your room,” Tony grins at you. Biting your bottom lip, you throw yourself at him and hug him tight. He returns the hug with just as much strength, if not more. 

As the night goes on and midnight rings, your small group exchanges tight-lipped merry Christmas’s and happy holidays. Natasha retires to her room, a distant look in her eyes as she says goodnight. No one knows where Clint is.

Steve nudges your elbow with his once the room empties. He holds out a box with festive wrapping — snowmen with carrots for noses and a variety of pebbled smiles. “From me and Okoye.”

“You got me a gift?”

Steve’s brow furrows as he nods like it’s obvious. “Of course. You’re my friend.”

“Well, now I feel inadequate,” you laugh. It comes out wet and it’s then that you realize you’re tearing up. “I promise to reenact Midsummer for you, okay?”

Steve chuckles, “You got it.”

You unwrap it slowly, half wondering why Steve and Okoye teamed up to get you a present. You. Your stomach churns an innocent whirl. 

It’s a long sleeved vest… or sweater. You can’t really tell until you pull it from the box. It’s intricately designed and it takes a moment for you to finally see it, to finally understand, and the moment you do you exhale a wracked breath. 

It’s not Wakandan fashion. It’s threaded with the colors and swirls of a place you haven’t called home in years. It has red flowers down the vest portion and multicolored rows down the sleeves and back. It’s made from a thick fabric that’s rarely used this century. Vintage — home.

“Steve…”

Steve clears his throat, “Now, I only did the flower parts. Okoye found it unfinished in… um…”

And there, where tags from brands would usually be, is a small threaded engraving. 

‘From Bucky, To our muñeca.’

“He didn’t get to finish it so I thought I would — you know, help? — so it’s really from Buck. Probably an apology for not letting you visit him in Wakanda.”

Steve tries to push out a laugh at his poor joke, but you can see how he’s faltering. You reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, dragging him down so his knees bend, and pour as much nonverbal thank you’s into the hug. He hesitates at first, arms floating awkwardly, until he swallows his fear and wraps his arms around your waist. He holds you to him tightly and breathes in the sweet scent of your vanilla shampoo. 

“Thank you.” Your voice is small, but Steve regards the delivery as powerful.

You wear it once, that Christmas night, enveloped in its warmth as you slept. In the morning, you hang it in the back of your closet. 

        A knock on your bedroom door sounds through your headphones. Bucky peeks his head in, “Is now a bad time?”

Sitting up, you pull the headphones from your ears. “Nope. Just thinking about how I’ve lived several years in the span of one week.”

Bucky lugs in a sports bag in one hand and a manila file in the other. He places them at the edge of your bed and proceeds to bounce in the available space near you. “Yeah, that can be annoying.”

You attempt to shove him away as he tries to steal your blanket. “Did you need anything?”

“Yeah.” He lets you take it, and simply turns on his side to face you. “What’s gonna happen between you and Steve?”

It’s an innocent question, but you know Bucky well enough to notice when he’s stressed. Steve probably told him to mind his business. “We’re good.”

He inspects your face with squinted eyes, “I know what you’re thinking so cut that shit out. This isn’t one of those missions where the feelings will just go away.”

“Funny thing is, I believe you,” you admit, watching as his face does something unexpected. His smile drops suddenly, like he didn’t expect you to agree with him, and then it’s immediately back full force. 

“Peggy and Steve - right person, wrong time. You and Loki - right person, wrong time. You and Steve, all those years ago — right person, wrong time.” A weird thing happens: you agree with him again. “But now, after everything — right person, right time.”

“It’s just weird feeling like it’ll actually work.”

“That makes us seem like we’re all broken, doll. We’re not.”

You turn so you’re facing him; two mismatched parentheses. “We’re just tired.”

“We’re just tired,” Bucky agrees, smiling. “I’m not saying don’t look over your shoulder whenever you feel like it. Hell, I still look over mine.”

Snorting, you roll closer to hug him. He pulls you into his chest. “You give amazing pep talks.”

“Yeah, I don’t know why they gave that trophy to Steve.” Bucky shares the intimate moment for as long as it takes before the blanket starts overheating. He groans as he sits up to retrieve the things he brought with him.  “By the way, our mutual friend sends one last warm regards.”

Bucky throws the sports bag onto your lap. “What’s this?”

“Your shit.”

You don’t even want to ask him how he packed your things without your knowledge. “Kicking me out, Barnes?”

“Clothes, toothbrush, shampoo and conditioner, pads, the quilt I just finished knitting thank you very much,” Bucky lists and hands you the file. “Maribel found him.”

“Ramirez?”

“Your dad.” 

You snap your head up to look at him. Bucky expects to see anger, hurt, maybe even betrayal. He was prepared for it. But you just look confused, lost for words, maybe even scared. “Goes by Richard these days. Lives with his wife in Wisconsin, no kids, keeps to himself.” 

You flip through the files, holding your breath. The file is small, Richard’s information only covering the first page, the rest just drabble. He seems relatively normal, looks normal even; normal job, normal credit score, normal upbringing. It doesn’t even seem real. You close the file and set it aside. “So you are sending me away?”

Bucky smirks, “It’s a suggestion. But I took the liberty of doing the hard part for you.”

“Yeah, because packing my lady products is the climax of this story.”

It didn’t go unnoticed that Bucky called Richard your ‘dad’. Everyone either referred to Ernesto as ‘your father’ or by his name. Steve had said ‘dad’ a few times before he met him, then he never said it again. Hell, even you did sometimes. 

It’s a sweet distinction and you’re certain Bucky said it on purpose. Bucky takes your hands in his, “It’s been a long time coming. But at least we can both say that the people who hurt us can’t hurt us any longer.” 

You can. You really can.

       Bucky’s already packed Steve’s shit as well. Steve’s just shoving extra socks into his bag when someone knocks on the door. He expects Bucky or Sam, final words of encouragement, but it’s Scott. And he’s standing there grinning like a mad man. 

“So, what’s the verdict, Rogers? You going after her or not?”

Steve huffs a laugh, “Think you already know the answer to that, Lang.”

Scott closes the door behind him and leans back against it. He shoves his hands in his sweater pockets, “Not that it should matter, shut me up if I cross any line, but everyone supports this.”

“Weirdly, I think it does matter. We’ve had you guys picking sides for two years. Selfishly. Like we were having a fucking civil war after everything.”

“Yeah, well.” 

Steve huffs a laugh. It’s always going to surprise him just how comfortable Scott is around him now. Not afraid to tease him or call him out on something he doesn’t agree with. It’s refreshing.

“I’m not giving up on her, Scott. Not again.”

Scott nods. Perhaps breaking the mission ethic code wasn’t a bad thing after all, Scott thinks. He gives Steve a proud smile, genuine. “Then I hereby declare our hanging conversation officially closed.”

        Steve wanders from his bedroom, to the conference room, to the main living room without an end destination in mind, seeming to just follow his quick feet as they lead him around the halls of the compound. He’s proud of himself, really, because he truly believes he’s learned to swallow his pride, has opened himself up to the possibility of being happy, and accepted that the world has changed and will continue to alter whether he likes it or not. He was, is, and will always be a man out of time — he’ll never fit but goddamn does he feel settled. He hasn’t felt this sane since before the war — which one? — so he relishes in the feeling for a few calm seconds. 

He feels tears well-up on his water line and feels the pressure in his temples. He’s at a crossroads — both proud of himself for finally choosing the path he wants and relieved that this week, this mission he has dreaded for almost ten years, is over. He doesn’t know if he should sleep for a month or occupy his time with other things awaiting repair. A build up of five years, grief and loss and happiness all weirdly mixed into one pot, and Steve simply hasn’t noticed the improper portions of each ingredient. 

It’s too much.

He thinks about his mental health. Shot to Hell, he jokes with himself. He’s already got the virtual therapy appointments scheduled. He figures he’ll get better with time and if Steve knows one thing for sure, it’s that he’s got a whole lot of that.

He thinks about Sam and Bucky and Scott — his three best friends that have gone to the ends of the Earth and back for him, and who would proudly do it all over again. He thinks about their kind words, their gentle touch, their devotion that Steve still sometimes feels he doesn’t deserve. 

And he thinks about you. To anyone else, this was written in the damn stars. No, there wasn’t anything extremely obvious in the first few years. You were friends. Friends that grew to consider each other teammates. Teammates that drew a drop of blood while fighting on opposite sides. Teammates that recognized the true endgame, teammates that helped each other escape, teammates that went silent for two years. Two years of no contact, no signal of survival. Then again, teammates who stood by as their world crumbled around them. Teammates who grew to be friends again, leaning on free shoulders and seeking help through happy conversations and long nights. Friends that brought the world together again, only to rip each other from their own. Friends into the most bizarre of enemies. And enemies back to teammates. 

Steve wipes a hand down his face as he fixes the strap over his shoulder. The common room is empty — he likes it this way. That means everyone is either napping, getting food, visiting friends or family, simply living life. The silence is therapeutic. 

His eyes fall on a crooked picture frame near the television. He tries to ignore it, almost to the door and ready for another road trip, but he steps back. Then forward, then back again. He groans in frustration of himself and moves to turn the frame back in place, holding it for a few seconds until it stays. But as he lets go, it tilts once more. He tries again — it tilts back. 

He pulls the frame from the hook and turns it over. He rightly freezes, the presence of a small pink paper airplane taped near the edge knocking the wind from his constricting lungs. He pulls it off, careful to not tear the delicate post-it. 

He never found it. Natasha probably placed it behind this very picture frame in the other compound for him to find. Surely the explosion should have destroyed it — but it didn’t. It’s right here, perfectly intact, just a smudge of dirt on one of its wings. The frame hadn’t been damaged either. It’s real. 

He holds the thin piece of paper like it’s the most precious thing in the world. 

Steve turns it over between his fingers a few more times, before he carefully folds it back in half and puts it in his wallet. “You’ve got some nerve, Nat. But I hear ya.”

       Steve decides to write you back. He hides the letter in that sweater he knows you don’t wear anymore, in the far back of your closet, and marvels at the intricate stitching while he can. He poured his heart out, even if it’s not guaranteed you’ll ever see it. 

     ‘Yes, I found your letter. I found it when I was looking for perfume in your suitcase. The tape was loose and I violated your privacy. I’m truly sorry for that. 

But I felt compelled to write you back, in case the reverse happened and I died instead of you. I didn’t write it then, when you were drying your hair in front of that impossibly small mirror you so weirdly called ‘a stupid little bitch’. And you looked so beautiful. But I’m writing it now and maybe I’ll share it with you in person when we’re both ready.      

When the world turned to dust, I held on to you. I know exactly why. Natasha bugged me about it also, teasing me whenever I would glance at you too long, or give you the last remaining Oreos I was planning on eating, or whenever I would leave your room in the mornings after a nightmare. She knew nothing was happening between us, but she had this smile whenever she caught me. Like she was happy I was comforting you, and in turn seeking comfort for myself. 

You remember how her smile would tilt up more on the left side? 

There isn’t a proper way to truly apologize for hurting you. But I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it. You at least deserve that. 

I returned a different man. And I think that was for the better.

Yes, I wanted the quiet life. I still think I do. And I think you know this — you have always seen right through me.      

I now know what Natasha saw. You irritate me, you damn near make me want to choke myself out, but I care for you. We hold each other up, and I’m always rooting for you, and I’m always by your side. No matter how annoying and smart-mouthed you may be.      

You’re my best friend — I hope I’m one of yours.

Steve.’

       There’s no one currently in the compound who really knows how to change the battery in your car. Bucky tries, does a rather good job too, but he claims he’s winging it and that you should call a mechanic just in case. He leaves you there with two random batteries on the ground, hood of your car open, and without any idea of what to do next. So you chill and wait for the mechanic you hope isn’t going to jack up the price just because he knows who you are. 

But he doesn’t seem fazed by you at all — or at the fact he just had to drive through countless checkpoints and security checks just to get on Avengers property. He changes the battery and changes the oil, hooking you up with as many upgrades he can. He even offers to wash it until you thank him repeatedly and that Really, really, you don’t have to do that. Thank you so much!

“Quite a garage you got here.”

There are unfinished projects and random wires falling from the ceiling and enough tools to supply five garages. It’s messy, but it was Tony’s. You accept the compliment and see him out. 

“Eh, make sure those windshield wipers work. I hear it’s gonna rain tomorrow.”

You thank him again. The clouds to the west are gray, getting darker as the expanse stretches, but from where you’re standing everything’s blue. You figure the mechanic was right: it’s gonna rain, and it’s gonna rain hard. 

The mechanic did good, all things considered. You never thought your old, beat-up Honda could look a few years younger. You flick one of the wipers lightly, testing its strength. It holds, as does the other, but when you go to lift it up it stops halfway. Without wanting to break it, you don’t force it. There’s something blocking the switch. 

You grab it before it can accidentally fall into a deep slot; the figurehead of a man, curly hair and beard that matches Steve’s, who also has a prominent and strong nose. You turn the coin over a few times before looking around the garage, down the street, at the remote area where the mechanic has just left. Standing there, mouth agape, you wonder just how in the world you missed the mechanic placing it there.

You were lacking in the spy department nowadays. Oops.

You know you’re not going to find Ramirez. But him giving this back to you? It was his way of saying he’s alright and that he owes you many thanks. 

You pocket the coin and accept the fact you just got bested.

It should take a few hours before you hit the first motel. Wisconsin isn’t that far, but you do have to pass through about hundred “middle of nowhere’s”. You pull out of the garage and check your mirrors — completely unaware of the super soldier running full speed to the passenger door. Steve carefully throws it open, somewhat aware of his strength, and lands into the seat beside you.

You hit the brakes hard. “Oh my! Rogers!”

Steve sucks in a few heavy breaths, like he literally ran across the compound to make it. “What? I startle you?”

“What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing? Aren’t you on house arrest?”

You squint at him, “Touche.” Putting the car in park, you turn your whole body to face him. “Answer my question.”

“Thought you were just gonna leave without saying goodbye?” Steve asks, expression much more teasing than serious.

“I’ll be gone for three days tops,” you say, waving your hand in the air. Steve smiles at you, seemingly waiting for you to speak again. You roll your eyes, “You’re coming with me, aren’t you?”

Steve lifts up the small duffel bag you hadn’t seen when he first got into the car. He throws it into the backseat and smiles lovingly at you. “I’ve been told that I’m impossible to get rid of, so yeah.”

“Rhodey said that the ankle bracelet they gave me wasn’t a trusted model. Easy to break off, like they did it on purpose.” You lean toward him, holding your chin up with the palm of your hand. “Should be able to drive free for a few weeks before they suspect anything.”

“Already booked us a cabin for Thanksgiving.”

“What makes you think that I even want you to accompany me on this road trip? Did you like the first one?”

Steve clears his throat and mimes like he’s writing on paper. The next words out of his mouth make your legs turn cold. “No matter how annoying and smart-mouthed you may be, there’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be than here, there, and everywhere with you.”

You blink multiple times, as if that would fix your ears. “...You. Fucking. Didn’t.” Steve reaches over to try and hug you. “No, don’t.” He squeezes harder, smooshing your face in his chest. “Steeeeve!”

“It fell out of your suitcase during the mission and I just… looked,” Steve reasons. He allows you to escape his grip.

“You just looked?”

Steve sighs. He really does look guilty. He pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear, letting his fingers tickle your skin. “I’m sorry I read it. I’ll get out of this car for real if you want me to.”

You arch an eyebrow, “You’re a little shit, but I’m not mad. No one understands privacy these days.”

Steve smiles wide enough for his dimples to pop and his eyes to crinkle. “I’d follow you anywhere, doll.”

“Anywhere?”

“Just name it.”

Humming low, you lean forward. He follows your direction like you’re a lighthouse beaming with light, capturing your lips with his in a sweet kiss. He hooks a large hand behind your head to press you to him harder. You smell like that vanilla scented shampoo he loves so much and feels his heart constrict with a pleasant pulse. 

You pull back for air and smile against Steve’s soft lips. 

“Well, I’m headed for the middle of buttfuck Wisconsin—”

“Just drive!”

Bursts of laughter fill the car until you’re past the checkpoints and well onto the long roads. The clouds continue to turn darker but they’re inviting, alluring, and it’s not insane that both of you desire thunderstorms because they remind you of family. 

Steve watches you from the passenger seat, memorizing the contours and edges of your profile. The roots in his heart begin spreading again; the meat of his heart filling with a soothing promise that his time on earth is no longer rootless. He’s dug his feet in, he’s watered all he’s needed to water, and he feels it spreading within him like newly blossomed flowers in the spring. He has a sudden urge to take out his drawing pad to immortalize the way your mouth tilts higher up on the right side when you smile, to record it forever. 

But he’ll remember it. He’ll remember well into this timeline, several years down the road, and even when he’s resting in his grave. So he leans his head back against the seat and chooses to watch the curves of every expression you grace him with. He immortalizes the sound of your voice, the taps of your fingers against the steering wheel, and the accented way you say his name. 

There’s a long drive ahead, but he’s excited for it. He’s excited for you. Steve promises himself that he’ll ask you a million questions, and give you a million answers, and share a million more stories. 

Right now, he just needs to sleep.

~

THE END.

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