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[urbanwood02]

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[specialitypanels]

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[baywindow24]

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[bluetimeombre]

・❥ 'Are you Hugh down under?' p2

You and Hugh were the stars of the biggest movie, Wolverine and Ladypool, and fans love the two of you.

[Here's p2, thank you for loving the last one and being as obsessed as I am. I hope i got everyone on the tag list and the second part to Ladypool and Wolverine is on its way. Again this isn't proof read, this is just vibes. There's some sexual innuendos and sexist comments that Hugh is at the rescue for. Also, i'm British so half of these interviews just end up being British icons]

part one

You and Hugh being in love for twenty-five minutes (part two)

2017, Y/N heart monitor

You were doing an interview for your latest movie with Nick Grimshaw on BBC radio one. It was a new thing he'd come up with, trying it with you for the first time as you were hooked up to a heart rate monitor.

'Is it working?' asked Nick. 'Is she alive?'

You help him put the stickers onto you. 'It's like, there's nothing there,' you joke with them.

'She's a robot.'

The beeping began and it found your heart beating at a steady pace, a good start.

'So, I'm going to show you a series of images and we're just gonna see how you react to these images, ok?' he asked.

You grin, nerves kicking in. 'Ok.' It could have been anything. And boy were you right.

Some of them were fine, easy, normal. A picture of a co-star the heart rate was fine, a pair of shoes that you wore a lot, a picture of cash and an ex that had it risen but not alarmingly.

'And finally,' Nick picked up an image. 'Hugh Jackman! How does he make you feel?'

Your cheeks go red and you laugh. 'I hate you all so much, um, Hugh Jackman?' you were too busy laughing. Once you had made a joke about Wolverine and how good looking he was, now it was following you everywhere.

'Heartbeats rising!' Nick cheered as you covered your face. 'Heartbeats the highest it's ever been, eighty-five, up to ninety! One hundred!' he claps.

You bang your head on the table, finally finding control over yourself. 'I can't believe you all.'

Nick slid the picture over to you. 'Here, you can take that one home with you.'

'Thanks. He looks great there, doesn't he?' you say. 'A classic, Hugh Jackman picture.'

'Yeah, you like it?' he teased.

You grinned. 'That's going on my wall when I get home.'

The Graham Norton show

You and Hugh had walked out, waving at the adorning crowd that cheered as you took the sofa.

‘Hello! Hello!’ Graham called.

The two of you looked the pair as you smiled and sat next to each other in spite of the space on the sofa.

‘Sofa to ourselves, i like that,’ you say, lying back.

‘The other guests were too intimidated,’ said Graham. ‘Now, was the walk out ok for you guys, Hugh, are you happy?’ He asked.

Hugh frowned. The crowd laughed. ‘It was very good, thank you.’

‘Because, is it true- and Y/N correct me if I’m wrong, you had a specific song you walked out onto set with?’ He asked.

Immediately knowing what he was talking about, you laugh while Hugh hangs his head and sighs.

You sat straight and took to explaining while patting his back. ‘You see, it’s very tough for Hugh to get into character as Wolverine sometimes. So the only way was to get him out the trailer was to play a specific song.’

‘Ok, ok so shall we do it again, this time with the song?’ Graham proposed. He ushered you both backstage, Hugh squeezing your shoulders as you went.

‘Whatta a man’ by salt and pepper started playing and you led the way out for Hugh who danced his way out. The crowd clapped along as Hugh shows his moves and ended with dipping.

‘Oh wonderful!’ Graham called as the two of you took your seats again.

For the rest of the interview thing went very smoothly.

‘Now is is true that the first time you met, Hugh, you didn’t actually meet Y/N?’

Hugh again huffed and shook his head. ‘This show is all to embarrass me, isn’t it?’

‘Makes a change honestly,’ you say.

Hugh looked back to you and started to tell the story. Through out, his body had moved toward you, his entire presence facing you despite talking out to everyone. ‘When I first walked on set, you know, at the ready, I was very excited to be there and even more excited to meet this wonderful lady here. And I got suited up, you know, went to hair and makeup and one of our first shots was quite a challenging one, a big stunt.’

‘Big,’ you agreed, taking a sip of your drink. You knew where the story was going.

‘Yea, so anyway, I walk over to Y/N whose already in her suit. Looks great by the way. Anyway so I start introducing myself and saying hello and how thankful I am for being here, a real heart to heart you know-‘ he says, ‘and then Y/N walked in and i realized I’d been speaking to her stunt double the whole time- whole time!’

The crowd laugh as do you, almost choking on your drink.

Wolverine and Ladypool press:

You and Hugh sat with each other all day doing press. You kept it light with jokes between the two of you, working through the people and questions.

One particular interviewer just had to get his answers though. ‘So your suit,’ he starts, looking to you. ‘It’s very tight and eventuated several parts of you, did you find that hard to manoeuvre around?’

Hugh answered before you had the chance to open your mouth. ‘I found it very easy to move around in. You know, first x-men movie, not so much but these suits, are perfect.’

The guy chuckled, it was clearly forced but you thanked Hugh for taking the question, patting his knee. ‘Can you wear like panties with them or thongs, cause they are skin tight.’

‘I’ll take this one!’ Said Hugh again. ‘I go commando, but that’s just because I like it.’

‘He does, he does like it,’ you nod, grinning. ‘He’s going commando right now actually.’

The guy tried one more time to ask you a question about the suit. At this rate, your entire body turned to face Hugh. ‘Do you feel sexy in the suit?’ He asked you.

‘Very,’ said Hugh.

After that, Hugh made several vulgar comments when you were alone, but luckily for you, Hugh was your own superhero.

Buzzfeed quiz

'Hello!' you greet the camera, holding your phone to your chest. 'I'm something-something Jackman.'

'And i'm the greatest actress of all time,' said Hugh.

You deflated, looking at him. 'Oh, well now I just look like a dick.'

'No, it's ok,' he shrugged. 'One of us has to look like a dick.'

The two of you were doing quizzes for Buzzfeed, answering if you're more Ladypool or Wolverine. Although you were sat next to each other, you'd both craned your bodies back so the other couldn't see what you were putting in, like it was a test.

'We're really competitive with each other,' Hugh told the crew.

'Yeah, not with anybody else, but I have to- I just have to prove i'm better than Hugh Jackman at something,' you said.

'Who are you hoping to get?' asked the lady behind the camera.

'Oh, Ladypool, obviously,' you said.

Hugh nodded along, watching you. (Did this man ever not look at you?) 'I wouldn't be angry about getting Ladypool either.'

You tut. 'So quick to betray yourself.'

If you could have a super power, what would you chose?

You read through the options. 'I think telekinesis,' you said. 'Mainly just because I'm lazy and it would be so easy to pick up the tv remote or close the curtains. Very practical.'

'Yeah, that's a good one,' Hugh hummed about it for longer. 'Maybe healing ability.'

You roll your eyes, throwing your head back. 'That's such a Wolverine answer!'

'I know, but I'm getting old, be nice for things to not hurt a lot,' he said.

Who's your favourite MCU character?

Hugh scanned the options. 'I er, don't see Wolverine on here?' he looked around at the crew behind the camera's shaking his head.

'Can't get the staff these days- oh my god Spider-Man's on here!' you cheered, distracted.

'She loves Spider-Man,' Hugh told the camera.

'I do. I really do,' you agreed. 'If it wasn't gonna be Wolvie, it was gonna be Spidey,' you look into the camera, holding your phone to your ear, mimicking for Andrew Garfield to call you.

Hugh dragged his finger of his neck in a cutting off motion if he ever did.

Who do you pick to be your road-trip buddy?

'You have to pick the Wolverine, c'mon,' Hugh nudged you.

You looked through the options which all considered x-men. You hesitated, humming. 'I dunno.'

'We had great fun in the car!'

A red blush took over your cheeks as you re-called the multiple, multiple takes you and Hugh had to do. Hugh saw this and draped his arm over the back of your chair.

'Yeah, but that was- that was different, this is a roadtrip not a porn video in a car,' you joked. 'And Wolverine's like so serious, Rogue, she's so fun.'

'Woah, woah,' Hugh paused everything. 'Rogue is great, don't get me wrong. But who's better!' he pointed at himself. 'Wolverine's not grumpy with you, he loves you!'

You look over at him, grinning sweetly. 'No, you love me and it's judging your character.' For five minutes, the two of you argued over who you'd rather have as a road-trip buddy. Most of it got sped up during the video. 'Ok, fine, I pick Wolverine. Who are you picking?'

'Charles,' said Hugh even though Ladypool was on the list.

You faced the camera, mouth hung open as Hugh laughed loudly and gave you a side hug, assuring you it was a joke but he still clicked on Charles!

Which musical number would you want to perform with your 'Wolverine and Ladypool' cast mate?

'Oh, some great choices!' boasted Hugh as he read through them all.

You smile at him, eyes softening. 'You've awakened the musical theatre beast.'

'Y/n, there's so many good choices! What do we pick?!' he grabbed your hand and squeezed as you watched him with joy.

There was a few choices: 'Love is an Open Door,' from Frozen, 'The other side,' which Hugh obviously did for The Greatest showman. But there was also 'The Love Melody' from Moulin Rouge and 'You're the one that I want,' from Grease and when you both saw that you gave each other a look and knew which one you were picking.

By the end when your results came up you cheered and punched the air, practically jumping out you seat. 'Ladypool! God, this felt like my audition for the character all over again,' you wipe pretend sweat from your brows. 'What did you get?'

Hugh showed you his phone. 'Ladypool! I got Ladypool!'

'We're so alike!' you entwined your fingers. Slowly and dramatically the two of you leant in, pretending you were going in for what would have been a very wet kiss before you both pulled back and explained your answers.

You and Hugh with Alison Hammond again!

The interview with the two of you and Alison Hammond was pretty much the two of you flirting and Alison fangirling. Fans couldn't stop editing it together.

'Ok so obviously there's been a lot of competition between the two of you, so we need to settle who's better once and for all,' said Alison. 'So i've got a series of challenges for the two of you to complete but there's a twist.'

'We're naked!' said Hugh causing you to laugh. 'No, sorry.'

Alison handed you both each a boxing glove. 'I want you to put one on each and sign your autographs, which ever is close wins the point.'

'You're on, Jackman,' you said, already sliding your hand into the boxing glove.

Hugh gave you a cocky smile. 'I am so gonna win this, you know why? Cause you've given me a right boxing glove, but i'm left-handed!' he quickly got to scribbling his autograph.

'Fuck!' you cursed, struggling with your own. (It was bleeped out on this morning).

When you handed them both back to Alison it was obvious who the winner was. 'Thanks for this guys, it'll do numbers on Ebay.'

The two of you practically topple on each other with how hard you laugh.

Next you had to try to open a bottle of water with your gloves on and pour it into glasses and try drinking from it, both of which you failed at. Then the two of you just started fighting each other so Alison called it off like she was your teacher in a rowdy class.

'So, as I am a morning presenter, I thought I'd see how good the two of you would be if you had your own Hugh and Y/N morning show- so here's some guards, scoot closer, scoot closer,' said Alison.

The two of you took the cards and moved your chairs together until your thighs were pressed together. You waited for your cue before the two of you began your audition for your own morning show.

Hugh threw his arm around your shoulder, drawing you in.

'No, Hugh,' you denied, 'we must be professional on tv!'

Alison cackled. 'Yeah, you wouldn't do that on tv.'

Hugh looked offended at the both of you. 'We're re-defining what it means!'

You push him off you and hit him with your cards.

Hugh assesses the camera. 'Where's the shot? Above our chests, perfect, so I can do this.' And he puts his hand on your thigh, sprawling it out as you bite your lip to stop the grin.

'I'm taking this audition seriously, Hugh!'

Finally, the two of you start, acting as if it was a real morning show while Alison gave you pointers.

'Did you have a good weekend?' Hugh asked you (in reality all your weekends had been spent in his company) 'What did you get up to?'

You shrug. 'Nothing much.'

'No,' he interrupted causing you and Alison to laugh. 'When I ask a generic how was your weekend, you have to tell me a great funny story that we've set up before. So, Y/N, what did you do on your weekend?'

'I went fishing,' you said the first thing that popped into your head.

'Did you fall in?' he asked.

'I fell in.'

'That's hilarious!' the way he said it and the way he looked into the camera, caring about it just made you laugh so bad. 'Don't go anywhere, we'll see you after the break!' you were still laughing when Hugh wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled into your neck, making kissing noises and hiding behind the cards.

Even more at the premier

You and Hugh stood next to each other, him keeping an arm around your waist as you both listened to the interviewer ask you questions.

'So, Y/N, we found this interview from 2017 and we thought Hugh might like to take a look at it,' they said, pulling out their phone and clicking on a video.

As soon as it started playing, you knew what it was. 'Oh god.' you hid yourself, turning to Hugh as he watched.

It was the famous heart-rate monitor interview, where, when you saw a picture of a shirtless Hugh Jackman, your heart-rate spiked higher than any other picture.

Hugh was smiling the whole time and beamed at you when the video finished. 'You have that effect on me,' he assured you, leaning his head on top of yours and smiling at the interviewer.

'Y/N, do you still feel that way when you look at him now?' they asked.

'More,' you said, speaking loudly over all the noise. 'I feel it ten times more.'

And fans, anyone, could see how much the two of you were in love. Whether it was just flirting or if it was real, it was there and everyone was happy for you.

As the two of you walked off, the camera followed you. Hugh's head was bowed low, seemingly taking low to you as his arm remained around your waist and yours came up to rub his back up and down. He laughed loudly at something you had said before dropping a kiss to the top of your head and continuing on the journey.

(there probably won't be part three but I'm working on another compilation with you and Hugh)

taglist (thank you all!): @geeksareunique, @angstdaddy, @tranquilty, @gotta-go-now, @pear-1206, @chronicallybubbly

[simplyholl]

The Interview

Summary: After a talk show interview where secrets are revealed, things get heated in your dressing room.

Pairing: Rockstar Bucky x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI. Rockstar AU.

See My Masterlist Here

A/N: Sebastian Stan as Tommy Lee has me in a chokehold. So this was born from my tatted, horny daydreams.

"Who is your celebrity crush?" The host of the Midnight Show, Chet Smith asked you. Your newest movie was a box office hit, so you had to do every talk show to promote it. To say you were exhausted is an understatement. Luckily, this was your last stop for today. This show was the most fun because Chet brought out all the celebrity guests together. At least you weren't by yourself answering awkward questions.

The other guests were Red Star, the hottest rock band at the moment. They went viral while playing at their local bar. An audience member threw a bottle at their lead singer, Loki and the whole band jumped off stage to fight. They were offered a record deal the same week.

They are known for their wild videos on TikTok. Women everywhere love them. Currently, they are squeezed on the small sofa with you for the interview. Bucky Barnes, their drummer sat on one side of you, his tattoos drew you in like a moth to a flame. You were doing your best to not stare at him the whole time.

The Odinson brothers, Thor and Loki were on the other side. Loki is the lead singer, his long, dark curls and piercing stare made men and women weak in the knees. Thor plays guitar and he is the band's himbo. He's a charmer, flirting with you the whole interview. Steve Rogers is their bassist, an All-American guy to balance the others out. He plays the part well, flashing his megawatt smile at the live audience. But you can tell there is a darker side to him lurking under the surface.

You consider Chet's question; your PR team warned you about questions like this. "Well, I don't really have one." You shrug your shoulders, as the audience begs for a real answer. "Come on, darling. I know you're lying." Loki smirks, reaching his hand over Thor to rub your thigh.

"If I go first, will that help?" Steve asks, being the helpful guy that he is. You nod smiling shyly at him. "Okay, but when it's your turn you have to be honest." He winks at you, and the audience goes wild. He answers one of your costars. You promise to hook them up later. You feel your cheeks heating up, suddenly embarrassed that you have to answer now.

Chet repeats the question, and you bite your lip, pointing beside you to Bucky. "My celebrity crush is actually this guy." Bucky looks ecstatic, high fiving his band members as they congratulate him as if he has won an award. Thor's answer is a pretty pop star who he had been spotted out with twice already.

Loki's celebrity crush is a famous author whose upcoming book features a main male character who looks suspiciously like him. Dating rumors swirled even though there was no proof, except for a few flirty comments between them on Instagram. When it's Bucky's turn he says you, draping his heavily tattooed arm around you. You smile, grateful that he lied to save you from public humiliation. You were sure he was going to say someone who didn't look anything like you.

You're already dreading what the headlines tomorrow had in store. You and Bucky cuddled up on this sofa would no doubt be on every website. You should have lied, you tell yourself. People will start shipping you, his fans would be saying horrible things about you. You should have said anyone else.

Red Star took the stage to close the show. They were playing their latest number one hit. The audience was on their feet, some girls were crying as Loki's sultry voice came over the speakers. You watched Bucky closely. He played the drums like it was his life's purpose. He tossed the drumsticks in the air, pointing to you and winking as he caught them. It was the sexiest thing you had ever seen.

When their set was over, Bucky walked toward the dressing rooms with you, stopping outside yours. "Thanks for saying I was your celebrity crush back there. I would have been so embarrassed if you would have said somebody else." He flips his hair out of his eyes. "You don't have to thank me. It was the truth." You tell him goodbye, feeling awkward about the whole thing. You turn to go inside your dressing room to change into comfy clothes before you go back to the hotel.

Thick fingers catch your wrist, pulling you back toward him. "I wasn't ready to tell you bye." Bucky's lips curl, the light shines on his nose ring, bringing attention to his face. When you look into his shining blue eyes, you realize you don't want him to leave either. You grab the sides of his leather jacket, pulling him toward you. His mouth is on yours instantly. He presses you against your dressing room door, his large body covering yours.

You tangle your fingers in his long locks, needing him closer. Bucky hungrily kisses down your neck, while one hand travels under your dress. He rubs his thumb against your soaked panties. "All this for me?" You whine when he rubs harder, your clit making contact with the silky fabric. You move your hips, lost in the moment.

Voices echo down the hallway, bringing you out of your horny haze. "Bucky" You whisper, trying to warn him so he has time to stop before they see you. "Shh. I got you." He moves his body, so he is blocking you from view. His fingers are relentless, dipping inside your panties. His rough thumb rolls over your clit, you bury your face into his chest.

"Oh my God, It's Bucky! We are huge fans!" A woman's voice comes from behind him. You aren't brave enough to look, so you keep your face hidden. "Thanks guys. I love meeting fans. So, what's your favorite song?" You try to pinch him so he will get rid of them, but he continues talking about the world tour they are about to go on.

He enters you with two fingers, curling them as you moan out loud. The women look around him, finally noticing you. "Is she okay?" The second one asks. "Yeah, she's fine. She just ate too much so she has a stomachache." His fingers caress your inner walls, thumb rubbing in small circles. The band in your belly snaps, arousal flooding his hand as you come apart. Your legs shake, and you hold onto his arm to steady yourself. You clench your teeth to keep from making noise.

"You better get her inside; she can barely stand." One of the women says. They tell you both goodbye, as Bucky leads you inside your dressing room. "You did so good for me, but I need more." You look at him incredulously. He just made you cum the hardest you ever had in your life in front of two strangers and that wasn't enough.

Your legs are still trembling as he lifts you onto the vanity. Your back hits the cool mirror as Bucky slides your panties down your legs. His hot breath tickles your thighs as he lowers his face, pressing kisses to your inner thighs. He takes his time, nipping your sensitive skin. He licks a lazy stripe up your center, avoiding where you need him most. His tongue sinks inside you, firm nose pressing against your clit.

You cry out, head falling back, knocking into the mirror behind you. It bangs against the wall, hard enough to rattle the pictures hung there. Bucky drinks every drop of you, moaning as you writhe against his face. His plump lips fasten around your swollen nub, sucking and tugging like he can't get enough.

Your shaking legs close around his head, trapping him as you ride out your high. You cry his name, not caring who hears you. Bucky lifts you, slamming you against the wall. He holds you with one arm, the other works quickly to bring his pants down. His cock springs free, pink tip leaking. You swallow hard, intimidated by his size. "You're so big." You shiver, anticipation putting you on edge. He holds you, lining your bodies up.

"You can take it." He snaps his hips up, slamming into you. You try to adjust as he stretches you, wiggling around to see if the stinging will go away. When it starts feeling good, your arms wrap around his neck, holding on as he pulls out, leaving the tip in. He thrusts back into you, bottoming out. You have never felt so full, he fills every inch of you. He sets a steady rhythm, every part of him feels like it was made for you. You pulse around him, your back hitting against the wall as he sinks impossibly deeper.

Bucky bunches your dress around your hips, thick fingers digging into your skin as he fucks you. You try to meet his thrusts, but you're too weak from the explosive orgasms he already gave you. You hold onto him as he uses your body, his ragged breath on your neck brings forth the familiar pressure in your lower stomach.

"You're doing so good. Fuck! You take me so well." He praises, moving your thigh higher up his torso. He holds it in place, tilting his hips. The new angle makes your vision blur as he deliciously drags against a place you were sure was a myth until this very moment. Your nails dig into the back of his neck as you shatter around him.

Bucky's thrusts grow brutal, taking what he needs from you. "Oh fuck" He moans as he spills inside you. For a moment, you just look at each other, trying to catch your breaths. Thankfully, he knows you can't stand on your own, so he carries you to the sofa. Your dress is still around your waist, arm over your eyes. You can already feel a dull ache in your stomach where he had been just moments ago.

"Do you mind?" Bucky asks, pointing his phone toward you. You narrow your eyes, not understanding. "You're just so fuckin' hot and I wanna remember this." He says, his meaning finally dawning on you. You nod, almost too tired to speak. He angles his phone camera toward you. "Fucking perfect." He examines the photo he just took before showing you.

Your hair is disheveled, giving you the appearance of being caught in a windstorm. Your cheeks are flushed, eyes blown wide with lust. The top of your dress barely contains your breasts. The bottom is by your hips, your exposed cunt glistening with his cum. Bucky set the picture as his phone's background. You protested because you looked like a mess. Bucky stopped your arguing with a kiss. "You know what you look like?" He asks, smiling wide as he turned his phone screen toward you. "What?" You cross your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling insecure. "Mine."

Tags

@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @loz-3 @megharat-barnes-reid @kats72 @crimson25 @mochie85 @cakesandtom @lokidokieokie @theallknown213 @alexakeyloveloki @tmilover1993 @yeaiamme2 @pigeonmama @yeehawbrothers @lokischambermaid @fictive-sl0th @nomajdetective @goblingirlsarah @foxherder @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @freegardenbanananeck @lamentis-10 @jainaeatsstars @queenshu @justsebstan @kcd15

[bubblebabie]

⋅˚₊ ୨୧ R.C. takes you on a shopping spree!

Rafe Cameron loves to spoil you, always finding a way to show his love and affection for you, and what would be a better way to show his admiration than taking you on a luxurious shopping spree!

You step out of the sleek, black Rolls-Royce, shoes clicking against the polished marble floor of the high-end shopping district. You stand at the entrance, gaze flickering with excitement as you adjust the straps of your mini saddle bag.

Your outfit is the perfect embodiment of high fashion, designed to catch the eye from every angle. You wear a tight, baby pink cropped tank top with a heart-shaped neckline, the fabric hugging your curves in all the right places, paired with a low-rise, micro-pleated mini skirt, its soft pinks and whites perfectly complement the top. Your long, toned legs are encased in a pair of white, knee-high socks, the lace trim peeking just above the tops of your shiny Mary Jane platforms—each step exaggerated by the thick soles.

Boutiques surround you in a dazzling display of luxury, each one offering an attentively curated selection of high-end fashion and accessories. The air is filled with the scent of fresh leather and the soft hum of elegance, while the arrays showcase exclusive collections that promise sophistication and style. Rafe walks behind you, his hand resting possessively on your waist, as you approach your first destination: The House of Valentino.

It was framed by enormous glass doors that slid open with a soft whoosh, unveiling the lavish interior. The walls, painted in a delicate blush pink, exuded an air of love and romance, while the lighting, dim yet inviting, cast a soft, flattering glow over the meticulously curated displays of haute couture. Soft velvet sofas were scattered throughout the space, their opulence beckoning one to sink into them and momentarily escape into a world of endless luxury. Beneath you, the floor gleamed with pale, lustrous marble, and the gentle strains of classical music provided a serene soundtrack, further enhancing the atmosphere of refined elegance.

Your eyes sparkle as you took in the row of meticulously arranged dresses, each one even more stunning. “This one would look perfect on you,” Rafe says, leading you toward a white dress made of delicate silk, adorned with intricate lace embroidery. It shimmered under the lights, as you traced the fabric with your fingers. You could already picture yourself wearing it to his upcoming party.

Thereafter, you make your way into Gucci, where the interior was a blend of sleek, modern opulence with rich, dark wood and golden accents. A rich scent of leather filled the room. You spot a pair of black heels that match your eyes perfectly. Rafe raises an eyebrow with a smirk. “Those?” he asks, already knowing the answer. You grin, nodding eagerly, fingertips brushing over the sharp heels before slipping them on.

As you continue through the district, shopping in store after store, the stores grow larger and more lush. In Chanel, the space is all clean, fresh and smells like vanilla, with high glass shelves showcasing the latest collections. It felt almost minimalist in comparison, but each piece speaks volumes. You couldn’t resist picking out a quilted leather handbag, the one you had seen on the website. Rafe shakes his head, smiling at you, as he watches your eyes travel from bag to bag.

Eventually, you stop at Prada, where the walls were sleek black, illuminated by sharp lights, creating a futuristic contrast to the warmth of their earlier stops. You look through the collection of high-waisted pants, delicate silk blouses, and sleek tailored coats. You pick out a vibrant pink jacket with gold accents, something that would turn heads at the next fashion-forward event. You had a vision of wearing it with the black heels.

By the end of the spree, You had an entire wardrobe of new outfits: from lingerie sets to two piece lace sets, and shimmering heels to bags that would make envy of every woman in the county. And as you exit from your last stop, arms full of bags, Rafe kisses your forehead, laughing. “I think we’re done here for today,” he says, his tone teasing but affectionate. You, radiant and glowing from the outing, smile at him. “Until next time!"

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[stellewriites]

every sort of day

ghoap x gn!reader fluff

when you woke that morning, the bed was empty and the flat quiet. you felt the sheets but they were cold and you huffed feeling a little frustrated that you’d woken up late even if you knew you’d needed the sleep.

pouting regardless, you got up and headed into the kitchen, shuffling along the wood floors in your thick, warm socks. your eyes went to the fridge first like every morning and you grinned when you saw the letter magnets rearranged into a message, i luv u. looking slightly lower you barked out a surprised laugh at the continued message using numbers for any missing original magnets, 4nd ur ar5e.

you shook your head and finally opened your coffee maker, feeling your chest warm when you saw a pod already inside and your mug set just to the side of it. your favourite brand of almond milk had been replenished in the fridge without you realising and you savoured the hot drink once it was made with a satisfied hum.

you’d missed johnny and simon before they’d left to work on base that morning, but they’d made sure to leave their mark behind for you to find.

you settled on the sofa in your boyfriends’ t-shirt and boxers, wrapped in a fluffy blanket. you sent a text to the pair of them, a simple love heart to let them know you’d woken up, and then turned on the tv. you’d been sick the past few days though you could tell you were on the up now, your head not feeling so fuzzy and your throat not scratching as bad. your boyfriends must have agreed given they’d set up the stuff for a coffee; simon was a staunch believer of tea only when ill and he made you stick to it too when he was around.

halfway through your trash tv show you napped for an hour or two, only waking when your stomach grumbled and complained at being empty for too long. wrapped up tight in your blanket, you yawned and headed to the kitchen to grab the soup johnny had made. you spotted it on the top shelf in the fridge and heated it up in the microwave under the brief instructions taped to the side of the tupperware. you were thankful it didn’t need too long, eager to get back to the sofa and the latest season of love island. while you waited for it to heat up you made yourself a tea and sent a photo to simon, smiling when he sent back a simple, good lass 🖤.

you sighed at the smell when the microwave dinged. spicy veg, your favourite and easy to keep down with the gippy tummy you’d had the last few days.

once you sat back down with both items, you hunched over like a shrimp to keep from spilling it, your blanket hung over your shoulders like a shroud.

you messaged simon worriedly when you’d heard nothing from johnny by mid afternoon. you knew they were meant to be in training, finishing off any vague handwavey paperwork they did and catching up with their captain after the last week off on break with you. but still. you worried.

johnny was chatty, even when he was in a meeting or on a helo, he always managed to send you a little something to keep your nerves settled.

your phone pinged and you opened the video simon sent quick sharp.

it showed johnny running laps on his own on a big field, a group of younger recruits cheering him on from the side, slightly out of frame and sat on the grass next to the track. your boyfriend’s face was beet red and his wheezing breaths could be heard even several feet away.

“talked a big game about my training program for the new recruits, said i was losing my touch,” simon’s voice came out of your speakers. he was clearly amused even if you couldn’t see him. he raised his voice for johnny. “‘ow you feeling now, sergeant?"

“cannae feel ma legs, lt.” johnny slowed down on his lap until he was just walking, coming to a stop opposite simon, though still a ways away on the track. “pain in ma lungs is—“ he hacked a rough cough before leaning over his knees.

“still think i’ve gone soft?” simon asked as the video zoomed in comically and unflattering on johnny panting and suffering.

“ah think yer a petty bastard,” johnny grumbled, keeping his voice loud enough to be heard by his lt. cheeky. “ah think ah might’ve pulled somethin’ permanently.” he stood back up and tried to stretch his back with a wince.

“cheer up,” simon said unsympathetically. “and say ‘ello to sunny, they were worried f’ya,” simon said softer.

johnny perked up at the mention of your nickname and you grinned at his wobbly smile on the screen, his chest still rising and falling with his quick, deep breaths. “missin’ ya, sunshine.”

the video flicked around and you were being shown simon’s work mask and his deep dark eyes hidden in the shadows of it. “be ‘ome soon,” he promised.

the video cut off as you heard simon yell at johnny to keep running and you relaxed back with a laugh; johnny would be thoroughly knackered by time he got in so you were guaranteed a puppy pile the second he stepped through the door. you turned back to the tv and settled in for another possible nap, eager for the day to go by so you could see your partners once more.

——

you blearily rubbed at your eyes as you heard the door open and peeked over the side of the sofa to see your boys shuffling in. slowly and clumsily, you made your way over with the blanket still tangled around you.

you let one arm escape the warm cocoon to help simon with his coat, tugging at the sleeve as he shrugged it off. you weren’t much help but he liked that you tried even when you weren’t feeling 100%.

johnny leant in to kiss your forehead and you sniffled with a smile as you looked up at him. simon’s hand was warm where it gently squeezed the back of your neck before trailing down to the small of your back over the blanket.

“kept warm?” he asked before heading to the kitchen and leaving you to be wrapped up in johnny’s arms. once he had a good hold around you he led you behind simon faithfully. your small steps tied in the burrito blanket hindered his longer strides so he swayed side to side on each foot to slow down and stop you from tripping in his eagerness.

“yeah, i’ve been wrapped up all day, hardly moved,” you said.

“lucky for some,” johnny groaned into your neck. “si ran me bloody ragged.”

you laughed and reached and hand up to pet sympathetically at his hair. your laugh soon turned to a racking cough and you ducked your head into your elbow and away from johnny.

he rocked you gently on the spot as he leant against the kitchen top opposite where simon was lining up three cups of tea.

once the kettle popped, johnny led you forward and squished you between his front and simon’s back as the larger man poured the boiling water into the cups.

you let your free arm curl around simon’s stomach, pawing gently like a cat at his bulk beneath the thick hoody until his own hand raised to hold it. he ran his thumb over your knuckles before lifting your hand to kiss the back of it, lingering.

“and did ya eat today?” he asked.

you nodded and hummed the assentive.

“our lovely bonnie, knows how t’ take care ah’themselves when we can’t,” johnny hummed, pleased and proud, into your hair.

“missed you both today,” you admitted.

you felt johnny grin against your skin and simon squeezed your hand tighter.

“ye’d a’been asleep all day, sunny,” he joked.

you pouted. it was true but that wasn’t the reaction you wanted.

johnny tugged you back a few steps and simon let your hand slip from his; the scot guided you out of the kitchen and towards your bedroom, and when you checked over both of your shoulders for simon he chuckled fondly.

simon had all three mugs in his hands and was close behind as johnny gently shoved you back onto the bed, your knees sinking into the plush duvet and mattress as you climbed to the centre.

you got yourself snuggled against the pillows with johnny to your right and then helped simon with the mugs on your left before he too collapsed against your side, shoulder to hip.

“put some honey in yours,” simon murmured softly as you blew on the hot tea. you smiled gratefully and leant in to kiss his cheek. “think we should order in, can’t be arsed t’cook.”

“aye, that’s fine w’me,” johnny agreed as he turned on the tv opposite your bed. he flickered through your watchlist before landing on young frankenstein and pressing play.

you pulled the blanket up high and held on to johnny’s hand, keeping your tea up high to inhale the steam while simon petted at your thigh under the covers. you didn’t know when you’d nodded off, but simon must have taken your mug before it could spill and johnny must have laid you lower on the bed to get you comfy. you woke to the sound of football playing on the tv and you groaned and curled further into simon’s side. he’d always managed to stay still better than johnny could, even if he was just as invested in the game. you felt johnny’s hand rub up and down your side, before gripping the fat of your hip in excitement and patting it softly but rapidly when a goal was scored.

“easy, johnny,” simon reminded him and johnny leant over to kiss your brow with a wet smooch.

“sorry, sunny,” he whispered. “go back to sleep. i’ll be quiet.”

you snorted softly, knowing he’d do his best but would be unable to keep the promise. you managed to fall asleep again regardless with a small smile, cuddled close between the two of them; simon’s arm around you both and his aftershave gently breaking through your stuffed nose.

being ill would be so much worse if you didn’t have these two lugs keeping you comfortable and cared for.

[rafecameronssl4t]

Can I please get smth with rafe x thorton!reader where shes confronted by topper’s ex girlfriend or something bc she got cheated on

Ruined Heels || Rafe Cameron x Thorton!reader

A/n: kinda sorta dislike this but thank you for the request!!

Warnings: vomiting? swearing idk what else lmk

Word count: 952

MASTERLIST (rafe x thornton!reader au masterlist)

Divider by @yoonitos

mood board “You ain't never had the feds investigate you. You ain't never had the bad hoes wanna date you.”

Your heeled foot taps rhythmically on the polished wooden floor, perfectly in sync with the pounding beat of the music that fills the house, the bass reverberating through every room.

“And then she started a hissy fit like she always does,” Sarah says, rolling her eyes dramatically as she recounts Kiara’s latest outburst. Her voice carries a mix of exasperation and amusement, a combination that makes you snort with laughter. You tilt your head back, letting the cool liquid slide down your throat before setting the empty glass on the table beside you.

“Hey,” Rafe’s voice cuts through the chatter and music, drawing your attention. He strides over with a confident smirk, “Wanna go upstairs?” He asks, his fingers drumming lightly on your crossed knee, sending a shiver up your spine as you look up at him.

“Gross,” Sarah mutters under her breath, clearly unimpressed with Rafe’s suggestion. You glance at her, “Will you be okay?” you ask, concern lacing your voice as you prepare to stand. Rafe reaches out to help you, his hands gentle yet firm as they grasp your waist, pulling you to your feet. His fingers brush against your dress, tugging it back into place as it rides up slightly.

“Yeah, I think I saw Kaycee in the kitchen,” Sarah replies with a sigh, her expression softening as she gets up from the sofa. She gives you a reassuring nod, her eyes briefly meeting yours before she turns towards the kitchen.

You nod back as Rafe leads you away. His hand remains on the small of your back, as you both weave through the crowd to get to the stairs. Just as you’re about to step onto the first stair, a blonde girl suddenly grabs your arm, pulling you back with unexpected force.

“Excuse me?” you say, furrowing your brow at the girl, your confusion evident. Rafe pulls you protectively against him, his grip tightening as his anger flares. “What the hell is your problem?” he demands, his voice sharp and furious.

The girl stands before you, her appearance a stark contrast to her fury. Tears stream down her face, her hair a tangled mess, and her lipstick smeared across her chin. Her hands tremble as she points a finger accusingly at you. “Your brother is the biggest fucking douche I’ve ever met!” she shouts, her voice cracking with emotion.

You and Rafe exchange incredulous glances, both stunned by her outburst. The disbelief in your eyes mirrors Rafe’s as you struggle to process the situation. “I’m sorry, who exactly are you?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. She scoffs, “Caroline, your brother’s girlfriend! Or ex-girlfriend now, since he just dumped me for someone else!” she yells furiously.

You never supported your brother’s behavior of sleeping around and breaking up with girls left and right, but practically everyone on the island knew what kind of person he was. Topper was notorious for his inability to maintain a relationship for any length of time.

“What’s that got to do with me?” you ask, shrugging nonchalantly as her eye twitches in frustration. Rafe stands behind you, his hand resting on your hip, watching the scene unfold with amusement. “He’s—” Caroline begins, her voice rising in anger, but you cut her off sharply, “You knew what kind of guy my brother was, so why did you even bother?”

Caroline stands there in silence, her eyes darting around as the partygoers watch. She takes a hesitant step forward, and you raise an eyebrow, curious about her next move. Suddenly, her face contorts with a pained expression. She brings the back of her hand to her mouth, but it’s too late. She bends over, vomiting on the floor, causing a collective gasp from the crowd.

“Oh my god,” you mutter, stepping back quickly to avoid the spreading mess. Rafe, standing behind you, looks like he’s about to gag, his hand covering his mouth. You instinctively reach out and pat Caroline’s back, offering what little comfort you can as she remains hunched over.

“What’s going on here?” Topper’s voice booms as he pushes through the crowd. He reaches you, his eyes scanning the scene before landing on Caroline. He sighs loudly, fingers pressing into his temples as if to ward off a headache. “Shit,” he mutters under his breath.

Caroline slowly lifts her head, her eyes meeting Topper’s with a mix of anger and embarrassment. Without warning, she swats your hand away, straightens up, and runs off, disappearing into the crowd of partygoers. The crowd parts for her, whispering amongst themselves, while you and Rafe exchange a bewildered glance.

Topper stands there, rubbing his forehead, clearly frustrated. “Great, just great,” he mumbles. “Did you really have to break it off tonight?” You mutter, giving your brother an annoyed look as he rolls his eyes “Oh, I’m sorry, Princess. Did she ruin your shoes or something?” Topper lifts his hands up in mock surrender, his tone sarcastic. “Get fucked, Topper,” You scoff, “let’s go,” You pull Rafe with you.

"Good to see you, Top," Rafe pats his shoulder, a smile gracing his lips before he lets you walk him upstairs (walk him like a dog sis).

[angelfic]

— CALM AFTER THE STORM

pairing: remus lupin x reader

summary: the 4 times you hate each other, and the one time you don’t. alternatively, remus lupin is a pain in your arse and yours alone.

warnings: enemies to lovers, swearing, kissing, mention of blood and wounds, some bad writing as always which is unedited

author’s note: just a little e2l fic for my own indulgence as its my fave trope and its criminal how i barely have any e2l fics… also haven’t written anything in ages soooo enjoy!

when he just has to be controversial

The sun was beaming, colourful rays reflecting over your book through the stained-glass windows of the Gryffindor common room as you lounged on the sofa with your head in Lily’s lap. You were barely paying attention to the chatter of your friends around you, choosing to focus on your copy of ‘The Catcher in the Rye’ and Marlene’s soft guitar playing. The lazy afternoon is a welcome break from the increasingly stressful N.E.W.T lessons that have had you all so exhausted, you’re not sure if Peter is asleep or dead from his curled-up position on the rug.

You don’t even realise someone is saying your name until Marlene tickles the sole of your socked foot with her guitar pick, making you yelp and draw your legs in from where they were previously tucked in between Marlene and her guitar.

“What was that for?” you grumble, nudging her arm with your foot.

Marlene smirks, nodding over to James. “He told me to get your attention. Didn’t specify how.”

You roll your eyes and turn on your side to face the boy in question, his grin unfaltering as he multitasks polishing the handle of his broomstick and talking to you. “Not my fault you’re dead to the world when you’re reading,” he says, matter-of-fact, continuing when you raise your eyebrows in impatience. “I was just wondering how you could look so interested in that book. Remus said he’d do my homework for a month if I finished it the other day and I couldn’t get past five arse-numbingly dull pages.”

You scoff, adjusting your position again to face Remus as well. “And why was Remus betting you to read my book, exactly?”

“It was my copy,” Remus replies, scribbling away on his parchment, cross legged on his chair, to undoubtedly finish the Potions essay that Slughorn had set yesterday. You’re transfixed on the way his hand is moving across the page for a second, unable to fathom how someone can have such messy handwriting. You aren’t surprised in the slightest that the next words coming out of his mouth are ones you disagree with. “I wanted to see how long he lasted reading the slowest-paced book in the world.”

You abruptly sit up at this, shutting your book and forgetting plans of relaxation.

“Hey, watch it!” Lily exclaims, lifting the bottle of black polish she’s using to paint Sirius’ nails from its balanced position on her thigh to avoid you spilling it all over her white top. “If you’re about to argue, please refrain from throwing things until after I’ve done the second coat of nail polish.”

You pointedly ignore this and narrow your eyes at Remus who, infuriatingly, still hasn’t lifted his head from his essay. “I’m surprised you found it hard to read such a slow book. Thought that’d be perfect for you.”

“Look what you’ve started, Prongs,” Sirius sighs, examining his nails.

Seeing the corners of Remus’ lips pull up into a slight smile at your comment just spurs you on in defence of the book you were previously enjoying. “Besides, it’s about a real-life teenager with real-life struggles, not The Hobbit on his latest adventure.”

“Who’s Hobbit?” James mumbles, scratching his head in confusion as Marlene just shrugs, equally oblivious.

“It’s overrated,” Remus insists, finally setting down his quill to look at you. The amused expression still hasn’t left his face and you make a noise halfway between a scoff and a high-pitched squeal of indignance. “Even James agrees.”

“Oh, and James’ opinion on literature is the standard now?” You raise a brow, tutting when James starts to protest. “The only book James has finished in the last six years was Quidditch Through the Ages.”

The way James slowly slides the aforementioned book under one of the sofa cushions doesn’t go unnoticed by anyone. Sirius starts snickering, much to Lily’s annoyance as she tries to control his hand. “She got you there, in fairness, mate.”

Sirius’ chortling seems to stir Peter from his sleep and he opens one eye to peer at you. Seeming to catch sight of your irritated expression, he frowns. “Are these two arguing like an old married couple again?”

“Merlin help us if these two ever decide to get married,” Marlene utters under her breath, bent over her guitar and avoiding the weight of your glare.

“Yeah, he wishes,” you grumble, shuffling around on the sofa to get back into a comfortable position with your book. Remus’ smile has only widened in response and he seems to enjoy your discomfort as you overcompensate for showing your annoyance by wriggling about.

“I dream about it every night,” Remus replies, dryly and Peter giggles below you before turning over to sleep again.  

You overcompensate a little too much by moving around, because Lily huffs from beside you and starts scrambling around for a tissue. “What did I say about the second coat?”

“I didn’t throw anything this time!”

2. when he won’t let you give someone a black eye

Defence Against the Dark Arts is your favourite N.E.W.T subject for a lot of reasons. You enjoy the lesson content, it’ll be useful in future years, and it’s the one lesson you share with every single one of your friends.

You’ve gotten used to James and Sirius messing around while Professor Marigold recites fact after fact about spells and creatures and wizards of dark nature. Its like soothing background noise to you and your classmates who all concentrate in silence most of the time.

Which is why your quill stops on your page and leaves a growing ink blot when you hear snickering and whispers from the other side of the classroom rather than from in front of you where the marauders sit in a line.

The scoffs of disgust coming from Snape and Mulciber are loud enough to attract the attention of the rest of the students and even the teacher, who eventually sets down her piece of chalk in the middle of talking about Wolfsbane potion with an impatient sigh.

“Is there some sort of pressing issue that can’t wait until after class to discuss, boys?” Professor Marigold asks with a tone of ire that would impress Professor McGonagall. “Even Black and Potter have decided to give it a rest today.”

She’s not wrong, you think, noting how they’ve been less disruptive than usual for this lesson, probably tired out from setting each other’s robes on fire in Charms the hour before.

“The pressing issue is werewolves,” Snape mutters quietly, as though he doesn’t want to make a big issue but can’t stop himself from speaking up. “We should be learning more about how to kill them and less about the price of potion ingredients.”

Lily gasps from beside you and Sirius and James tense up at his words. Remus doesn’t lift his head, but you absently notice how his grip tightens around his quill when Peter nervously turns to him. Peter isn’t one for conflict and he’s always been nervous around this particular group of Slytherins, so you’re not surprised he’s anxious.

“Werewolves are still people, you can’t just go around killing them!” you find your mouth moving on its own, before your brain can catch up. When Snape turns to direct his scowl at you, its matched by your own as well as Lily’s disappointed frown. “They didn’t ask to be werewolves, they physically can’t help it! How would you feel if people wanted to kill you for not being able to control being such an arse.”

“Miss Y/L/N,” Professor Marigold warns, setting her stern eyes on you. You’re not one for disrupting lessons or getting into trouble, so when Remus turns around to look at you with a raised eyebrow, your cheeks start to warm and you stubbornly don’t look his way again.

Snape ignores her to continue glaring at you. “I don’t have the capacity to kill people in a feral rage now, do I?” His gaze flits from you to Lily and Marlene and then lingers on the boys. “Of course, you’re defending werewolves. It’s no surprise considering who you choose to associate yourself with.”

“Mr Snape.”

“You have no need to fly into a feral rage to kill people,” you reply, voice steadily rising in volume. Sirius and James turn their heads back and forth like they’re watching a tennis match and you know the only reason they haven’t piped up to agree with you is because they’re too entertained watching the way you’re about to jump out of your seat to pounce on Snape. “All you need to do is show someone your face for them to die of fright–”

“ENOUGH!” Professor Marigold’s booming voice cuts through the laughter of everyone on the Gryffindor side of the classroom and when you turn to look at her, you see even Remus’ shoulders are shaking with silent laughter. You’re not sure why this pleases you, but it doesn’t last long enough for you to figure it out before Marigold waves her wand in the direction of the door and sends it flying open. “Both of you will wait for me outside the classroom until the lesson has finished so I can discuss your appalling behaviour.”

You gape at her for a second, before relenting and grabbing your bag, not wanting to argue with her authority. Your friends have different ideas.

“That’s not fair!” Marlene exclaims, standing up in protest. “She didn’t even do anything wrong.”

“Yeah,�� James agrees, also standing up. “Snape’s the one who was being an annoying pri–”

“Sit down, everyone,” Marigold cuts him off, pursing her lips. “Everyone except Mr Snape and Miss Y/L/N. Do not even think about speaking Mr Black, or I won’t hesitate to suspend your and Mr Potter’s Quidditch privileges until further notice.”

Sirius shuts his mouth after a nudge from James and you shoot your friends a grateful smile before making your way out of the classroom, followed closely by Snape.

The door shuts behind him and you don’t bother sparing him a glance before dumping your bag on the ground and leaning against a wall to focus your gaze on a suit of armour for the next five minutes. You’re about half a minute in when you notice that one of the hands are slightly wonky and the classroom door suddenly opens.

Remus, of all people, enters the hallway to join the two of you and quickly shuts the door.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, furrowing your brows and getting up from against the wall.

“Yeah, what are you doing here?” Snape sneers at him, and you give him a scathing look before turning to Remus for an answer.

Remus pointedly ignores him to stand next to you against the brick wall. “I just pointed out to Professor Marigold that you both have your wands and she may not have two students left out here by the end of the lesson.”

“I can defend myself,” you snort, folding your arms. You aren’t sure if you’re annoyed that Remus is insinuating otherwise, or if you’re touched that he doesn’t want you to be hexed into oblivion by Snape. “Especially from him.”

“Oh, I know,” Remus raises both hands in surrender as his tone becomes grave. “It’s not you I’m worried about, trouble.”

“Ha ha,” you deadpan, rolling your eyes at the nickname. He started it around a year ago when you got your first ever detention for helping Sirius and James Charm the Slytherin chairs to throw them off every time someone sat. Your friends had kept quiet about your involvement, but Peeves had spotted you, the nosy bastard. The nickname stemmed from the fact it was the first time you had ever gotten into trouble and it never failed to irritate you. “You better be careful I don’t hex you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of annoying you,” he says, but the serious tone of voice is ruined by the way his lips are twitching in an attempt not to laugh at you. “After what happened when I said I didn’t like that one Jane Austen book? Forget it.”

“Hey, you insulted one of my favourite characters,” you point out, resting a hand on your hip. “What did Emma ever do to you? You had that hex coming.”

“I had pink hair for a week,” Remus narrows his eyes at you, but you can tell he isn’t really angry. Although he refuses to admit it, you know for a fact he didn’t hate the pink hair considering how good he looked with it. An annoying indiscretion on your part. Remus looks behind you for a split second before leaning in a little to whisper. “I won’t get in the way if you want to turn Snape’s hair pink, though. Preferably a very bright shade of flaming, hot pink.”

At risk of your own cheeks flaming up from how close he is – really, what’s the need? – you shake your head let your hair fall into your face. Almost having forgotten Snape is also there, you start when he scoffs (for what you think is the millionth time this afternoon) and you sigh before facing him begrudgingly. “What now?”

“Couldn’t handle the content of today’s lesson?” he asks, tiling his head. You’re about to ask him what the hell he’s talking about before you realise, he isn’t actually talking to you, but to the boy behind you.

“Uh…” you trail off, not sure how to respond. All three of you currently standing in the corridor know that Remus is smart enough to tackle any type of content, especially something as memorable and interesting as werewolves.

Remus’ amused demeanour has been wiped away and you can’t determine his exact expression, but his voice is cold when he talks to you. “Just ignore him.”

“You and your group of friends can’t help themselves when it comes to defending strays and all sorts,” Snape continues, much to your confusion. “It’s not enough that you’re a group full of blood-traitors and mudbloods…”

Remus tenses up behind you and you find yourself frozen for a second.

The next thing you know, you’re lunging at the greasy-haired Slytherin with every intention of hurting his face with your fists, wand long forgotten. Your fingers barely brush his robes, however, when you feel yourself being hauled back by strong arms that wrap around your middle.

“Let go!” you snarl, enjoying the way Snape has backed away, eyes wide and worried. “Did you hear what he said? Remus, let me go.”

He doesn’t relent, still holding onto you when he leans down to speak in your ear. “You’ve already gotten into trouble. You’ll get into a whole lot more when everyone walks out to see Snape with a black eye and you with bruised knuckles.”

“Worth it,” you grit out, still pulling away from his grip and throwing daggers with your eyes at Snape. After a few more seconds of pointless struggling, you relax very slightly just to turn in his arms so you can direct your next words to him more pointedly. “Not only is he a slimy, blood-supremacist twat, but he also wants to kill a poor bunch of werewolves. We should be throwing him into the bloody Black Lake!”

“I know, I-” Remus is cut off when the door opens and students start flooding into the corridor to provide a barrier between you and Snape, indicating the end of the lesson. Remus finally lets you go when he realises you’re in direct view of Professor Marigold who stands behind her desk, waiting for you. “I had no idea you were such an advocate for werewolves.”

It’s the last thing you expected him to say and you immediately look up at him and frown. “Again, they’re people. They don’t deserve to be victims of prejudice just as no one does.” He doesn’t respond, staring at you with an unreadable expression and a hint of a smile. Your frown deepens in confusion. Was he… laughing at you? Especially after you had just gotten along. “I’m so glad you find me amusing,” you say, scowling and storming back into the classroom and away from Remus.

3. when he's too good for flower crowns.

“Tell it again,” James insists, grin wide as ever plastered onto his face despite the withering look you send his way. “Getting a glimpse at even the possibility of Snivellus getting pummelled by Y/N would have made my entire year.”

“The galleons I’d give up to have been there,” Sirius releases a wistful sigh, closing his eyes as he lies down, facing the sun.

You hand him the daisy chain crown you just finished and he dutifully dons it. “I’ll alert the Ministry of Magic to order in a time-turner for an issue of utmost urgency,” you say sarcastically as you start on the next daisy chain. Sirius merely winks at you.

“I think you should’ve let her have at him, Remus,” Marlene states, unapologetic. You nod vehemently in agreement, a little too enthusiastically as you end up splitting a daisy down the middle.

Lily tuts, adjusting her own flower crown as it slips against her silky red hair. “I’m glad you didn’t. Godric knows what Professor Marigold would have done,” she shudders at the thought, ever the diligent student.

“Forget Marigold,” Peter chimes in. “Imagine what Professor McGonagall would have done.”

You don’t miss how he looks over his shoulder in case your head of house is taking a stroll along the grassy grounds.

“She would have combusted when you called him an ugly arse,” Remus pipes in, unhelpfully might you add, from where he sits slightly away from the group under a tree, reading.

The comment sends Marlene, Sirius and Peter into a fit of laughter – James is too busy staring at the way the sun is making Lily look ethereal and she’s too busy pretending not to notice while being secretly pleased. Doing a quick survey of your friends, you see everyone now has a flower crown except Remus. You make your way to the tree he’s resting against while the others chat, and sit yourself down with purpose.

Remus lowers his book very slightly to peer at you and your too-sweet smile. He raises a sceptical brow. “Should I be scared right now?”

You drop the fake smile and hold up your flower crown expectantly. “Everyone has one, but you.”

“How observant,” he says, setting his book down to look at you in mock astonishment. “Have the Aurors at the Ministry caught wind of you yet?”

“Don’t be a pain,” you groan, dropping it onto his open book. “I want everyone to wear one for the picture!”

Remus sighs, looking at the large camera over by your bag. You had saved up all summer to buy a magical camera to be able to take pictures of you and your friends in your final year at Hogwarts. The time you used your own muggle camera was a disaster of sparks and broken bits of plastic that took hours to mend. “I already agreed to your incessant picture-taking,” he reminds you, acting like it’s the most painful thing in the world. “The flower crown is not happening.”

“Fine, you miserable git,” you flick a handful of grass at him, sending him sputtering. “Now come and sit for the photo.”

You return to the group with Remus behind you and get everyone in position before hunting down someone to take the photo. Glancing around, you spot a close bunch of first-years and send Lily to use her Head Girl credentials (and warm and inviting personality, of course) to rope one of them into coming over.

“Okay, smile everyone,” you order, plopping down on the grass next to James. You elbow him in the ribs, not even having to look at him to know what he’s doing. “Stop looking at Lily and look at the camera.”

With a couple of mutterings and some nudging, the nervous first-year Hufflepuff girl shakily takes the picture and hurriedly hands you the camera in the middle of the picture sliding out of it. James and Sirius go back to playing with a golden Snitch while Peter watches, while Remus returns to his book.

Lily looks at the picture and coos over how cute everyone looks at the same time as Marlene complaining about her hair. You impatiently take the picture back to slide it into your photo album and something catches your eye.

Sirius is making a peace sign behind Remus’ head. His head that wears a flower crown.

4. when he bleeds out on you.

You’re not sure what time it is – either very late at night, or very early in the morning. You do know, however, that you want to finish your Herbology essay so you can enjoy tomorrow (or today) and cheer your friends on in the Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw Quidditch game. You only have the conclusion left and you’re confident it’ll be done in the next ten minutes.

If you can find your damned quill, that is. You could have sworn you had it ten minutes ago, just before you snuck down to the kitchens to persuade the house-elves to give you the strongest cup of coffee they could make. You take a quick sip and grimace at the lukewarm temperature before setting it down and getting up to search. After turning every sofa cushion upside down, you go to crouch behind the sofa.

You hear the door to the common room being swung open and the hushed voices of the Marauders enter, but you don’t take too much notice as you squint for your quill. It isn’t unusual for the boys to be roaming around the castle at odd hours of the night, but a hiss of pain grabs your attention at the same time you spot the quill.

“Can you guys manage taking him up to the-” Sirius cuts himself off when your face pops up from behind the sofa. He freezes in his efforts to hold up Remus, who you notice is leaning on him and James and Merlin’s balls he’s covered in blood.

“What the fuck happened to him?” Your voice comes out weak as you walk over to the boys. Remus has deep, bleeding slashes over his chest and an assortment of little cuts on his face and hands. He seems barely able to keep his eyes open but when his gaze meets yours, he winces. He isn’t the only one hurt and you realise Sirius’ arm is damp with blood and trembling, the same going for James’ thigh. “What the fuck happened to all of you, oh my God…?”

“Peter, you were supposed to keep watch,” James hisses at the boy who looks like a deer in headlights. He looks a lot better than the others, with only a couple of small cuts scattered around his face and arms.

“She was behind the sofa!”

James’ leg buckles and you snap out of your state of shock to dart forward and keep him steady. “Right. Shit, okay,” you breathe out, holding off asking any questions to prevent anyone from bleeding out. “James, Sirius, set Remus down on the sofa and take off his shirt. Peter, help these two up the stairs and go find a first-aid kit or something.”

“We’ve got a couple in the dorm,” Sirius says, summoning one of them down with a quick Accio and handing it to you. He hesitates for a second, probably unsure if he should stay and explain things, before deciding to turn in the direction of the stairs with James as Peter rushes to help them up. “Look after him, please. We’ll be right back, Moony.”

“Take your time, I’ve got him,” you utter, already fiddling with the first-aid box and trying to open it with shaky hands. You’re no healer, but you know enough to panic when you see Remus has had his eyes closed for the last few seconds. “Remus, keep your eyes open!”

He groans, cracking one eye open to look at you. “I’m injured and bleeding out and you still manage to yell at me.”

“I wasn’t yelling,” you frown, unscrewing the bottle of dittany and scrambling for the cotton pads. You try to avoid Remus’ gaze because you feel extremely silly about being more panicked than him when he’s the one with claw marks down his chest. “Don’t move, or it’ll hurt.”

While dabbing the liquid onto the deep gashes in an attempt to close them up, you ponder on the fact that he probably knows it hurts from experience. You’re not completely clueless.

“What are you thinking?” Remus whispers in the stifling quiet of the common room, looking unsure.

You don’t cease in your movements, changing cotton pad after cotton pad. It takes you a minute to muster up the courage to meet Remus’ gaze again and this time he looks more nervous than you’ve ever seen him. “You’re a werewolf, aren’t you?”

Remus gives you an almost imperceptible nod, like he doesn’t want to admit to it. You take a deep breath.

“Who else knows?” you ask calmly, as if you’re asking him about the weather.

“The boys and Lily,” he admits, swallowing hard. “Oh, and Snape.”

“Snape?” you exclaim, halting your dabbing to gawp at Remus. “I’m not saying you had to tell me or anything, but Snape?”

 Remus winces and you don’t think it has anything to do with his injuries. “In my defence he found out on his own and hates me for it,” he rushes out. “And it’s not that I didn’t want to tell you… I-”

“It’s fine,” you cut him off, waving him off and wondering how good you’re hiding the fact you’re a little hurt. “You didn’t have to tell me.”

“No, I wanted to. I did,” Remus insists, looking earnest. There’s something in his voice that’s a little pained and desperate that has you meeting his eyes. “I just couldn’t have dealt with it if you started looking at me differently. The boys and Lily sometimes do, y’know? Like I’m made of glass or something. It’s refreshing whenever you scowl at me or call me an idiot or an arse or a stupid gi-”

“Okay,” you stop him, stifling a grin. “I get it!”

Remus’ eyes flash with relief for a second before you notice doubt start to creep in again. “You don’t need to hide it, by the way. I won’t hold it against you if… If you’re scared or disgusted, or-”

“What?” you cut him off again and scrunch your nose in confusion. “I’m not scared or disgusted. Why would you think that?”

“You’ve been a bit too calm,” he points out.

Rolling your eyes, you grab a bandage to start patching up the worst of the injuries before you move onto the minor cuts and bruises. “I didn’t want you to think I was freaking out, or looking at you differently,” you quote his own words to him with a pointed look, making him smile again. “I don’t, you know. Think of you any differently, I mean.”

His expression is unreadable as he just looks at you and you just look at him, bandage hovering over his chest before his fingers come up to brush the back of your hand. He lightly holds your hand, softly running his thumb over your knuckle as his voice drops to a whisper again. “Thank you.”

You offer him a gentle smile, holding his gaze for a second longer before focusing on bandaging him up again. His hand drops to the side and you oddly find yourself missing his warmth. The large bandage adheres to his skin and you run your fingers along the sides to stick them down, feeling him shudder under your touch.

You quickly busy yourself with looking for more supplies in the kit to hide the way your own breathing has increased slightly. “Hey, anyway, I almost walloped Snape right in the eye for you. If that wasn’t any indication of my standing on werewolves, I don’t know what is.”

“Ah, my knight in shining armour,” Remus chuckles before breaking into a wheeze as the muscles of his injured abdomen contract. “Fuck, don’t make me laugh.”

“Don’t laugh at me then!”

5. when you’re definitely not jealous… you’re not!

Three cups of coffee. You’re on three cups of coffee. It’s also the same number of hours you’ve slept and by Godric can you feel it in every inch of your body as the muted chatter of the Great Hall buzzes around you. Your head is in your hands as you contemplate stealing some Polyjuice potion and bribing a first-year to take a dose with your hair in it so you can go to bed and they can pretend to watch the Quidditch match.

You knock back the last sip of coffee when you sense a presence sliding onto the bench in front of you. Groggily setting the cup down, you see that its Remus. It takes a second to remember why this is concerning.

“Morning, h- Wait, what the hell are you doing out of bed?” you hiss, leaning forward to avoid anyone listening in. You scan your eyes over his chest, two seconds away from ripping his shirt off to check his bandages. “How are you even standing?”

“Relax, Florence Nightingale,” Remus says, rolling his eyes at your dramatics. He does his own quick sweep of the table and sees that most people are out in the Quidditch stands already, so he proceeds to pull the neckline of his shirt down slightly to reveal an already fading scar. No bleeding in sight. “I went to Madame Pomfrey with the boys this morning and she hurried up the process like she usually does. I feel achier than a 90-year-old woman with a metal hip, but the brunt of it is gone and Pads and Prongs are good as new.”

“Okay,” you say slowly, narrowing your eyes slightly. “If you’re sure you can sit out in the stands…”

“I can once I’ve consumed every cup of tea on the premises,” he says, reaching for the teapot. An annoyingly smug smirk starts to appear on his face while he pours. “What, are you worried about me, trouble?”

You scowl instantly. “No, I just don’t want you collapsing on me in the Quidditch stands while I’m cheering the boys on.”

“Right.” He hides his grin behind his cup of tea.

“Hey,” you mumble, nodding to Patricia Holloway who looks like she’s making a beeline to your table. More specifically, towards Remus. “Bright and cheery Hufflepuff incoming.”

“Merlin, it’s too early for this,” Remus whispers, taking another sip of tea before his face breaks out into a charming smile directed at the girl who slides into the empty seat next to him. “Morning, Patricia.”

“You look good today, Remus,” Patricia rests her elbow on the table and tilts her head to look at him with simpering eyes. It’s no secret Remus is good-looking and you’ve heard a million girls talk about him before. You’ve never seen any of them approach him yourself, though. You can’t say you enjoy it. “Are you… okay, Y/N?”

You didn’t realise you were scowling until she addresses you and you rapidly smooth out your expression, clearing your throat. Remus looks amused, which makes it harder to keep the scowl off your face. “Fine! I’m fine, just a bit confused since Remus looks half asleep,” you attempt a laugh through gritted teeth and are spurred on when Remus is actively trying to fight a grin. “And his hair currently makes him look like he’s been dragged through the Forbidden Forest.”

He can’t stop himself snorting at that, but Patricia just looks confused as though unsure how to react. She settles on a nervous little laugh, turning back to him. “I can fix that for you, here,” she says, scooting closer and starts to run her hands through Remus’ hair. You poke your cheek with your tongue, marvelling at how bold she’s being and how Remus is just sat there, still looking amused as ever. “There, what do you think?”

“A hairbrush couldn’t have done a better job,” you deadpan, softening your expression slightly when Patricia begins to look a little disconcerted. “You keep doing that, I’m going to head off to the Quidditch field.”

You all but storm out of the Great Hall, exhaustion having left you completely. It’s replaced by a newfound whirl of irritation that pools in your stomach and creeps up your throat, making you feel a little sick. It must be the coffee, you think, and you’re trying to remember if the beverage has ever made you experience this when all of a sudden there’s a hand circling your wrist.

“Stop, Y/N,” Remus says, a little breathless. You didn’t realise he’d run out after you and you feel bad about his injuries before your gaze snags on his newly tousled hair. “Godric, you walk fast.”

“I didn’t ask you to catch up to me,” you snap, purposely scowling this time. The cheeky bastard still looks amused and your irritation is growing faster than ever. “Besides, the match doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes. Plenty of time for Patricia to give you a whole new hairdo. Maybe she can give you plaits or– Why are you laughing.”

“You’re jealous,” he exhales with a smile, sounding positively delighted. Any feelings of concern have disappeared and are being rapidly replaced with wanting to thwack him upside the head. “Oh my God, you really are jealous.”

“Jealous, my arse,” you scoff, turning your back to him with every intention of speed walking out of the castle. His long legs keep up with you easily and he rushes in front of you to stop you going anywhere. You glare at him. “Leave me alone, Lupin.”

“Not until you admit that you’re jealous.” Remus is positively giddy with glee and you feel a flush of heat crawling up your neck. You set your jaw stubbornly and he’s incredulous as he shakes his head. “Merlin, you really have to argue with me on everything don’t you? I don’t care about Patricia Holloway and I’m glad you’re jealous. Means you’re less likely to break my nose when I kiss you.”

You barely get the chance to make an incoherent noise when Remus grabs you by the waist and presses his lips against yours, kissing you like he isn’t prepared to let you go anytime soon. His mouth slides hot and wet against your own and you gasp into the kiss when he nips lightly at your lip, your hands coming up to slide into his hair, making it unruly all over again.

Remus is the first to break apart, too soon, and you physically restrain yourself from chasing after his lips. He pulls back slightly, breathing fast to look into your eyes, searching for the answer you’re unable to speak yet.

“You… uh, I-I’m…” you trail off, dazed and breathless and head swirling with every emotion under the sun.

Remus laughs, pulling you impossibly close and leaving a soft kiss on your jaw, which doesn’t help your current speech issues. “If I knew that was all it took to shut you up, I’d have kissed you years ago.”

“Wha-!” You slap his arm, snapping out of the haze. You hide your current uncertainty behind a glare. It hit you like a ton of bricks, but you realised about five seconds into the kiss that you wanted Remus Lupin in every way, shape and form. You’re more than a little terrified, so what better defence mechanism than anger? “Why did you actually kiss me, you prick?”

“You are the densest, most clueless,” Remus begins, pausing to kiss you lightly a couple times when you start to scowl. “Most stubborn and most beautiful little witch I’ve ever known. And if you haven’t figured out after almost seven years that I love you, then I’m afraid we might have to admit you to St Mungo’s, because really-”

“Stop,” you whisper, lifting a finger to press against his lips, effectively silencing him. “You love me? You actually, seriously love me?”

He rolls his eyes and nods, like it’s obvious or something. You huff. “Then why have you been such an annoying pain in my bloody arse, Remus Lupin?!”

“Because,” he says, the word coming out muffled and you hastily remove your finger. “It was a good way to keep your attention. Plus, I like when you’re angry. It’s cute.”

You scowl without thinking and his smile impossibly widens.

“See?”

“Shut up and kiss me again,” you say dryly, pulling him in by the collar to give him a short, searing kiss. “Oh, and I guess I love you too.”

“So, no broken noses in my future?” Remus asks hopefully, softly sliding his nose against yours.

“No promises.”

© angelfic 2023.

[kiwriteswords]

I really loved your affectionate reader story. I love the idea of Aaron asking reader for affection. Could you write a story of him asking her for comfort?

Let me hand you my love [Aaron Hotchner x Affectionate!Fem!Reader]

Masterlist || Ao3||Word Count: 4k|| AN: Loved writing this one! I did not continue the other story, so this could be read as a stand alone!

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, canon-typical themes, touch-starved Aaron Hotchner, non-bau!reader, affectionate reader, mentions of Hotch's abusive father, Jack is mentioned, Haley is mentioned, Beth is mentioned, 5+1 trope, physical touch love language

Summary:  Aaron Hotchner is beginning to see why your love language is physical touch. 5 times Aaron Hotchner asks you for affection, and the one time you ask him.

I.

Aaron Hotchner had always prided himself on his composure. He was a man of steel—unyielding in the face of danger, stoic even when chaos reigned around him. But lately, he’d begun to realize there was something soothing about letting his guard down, something he'd been missing out on for far too long. Physical touch, a simple concept yet so integral, had slowly woven its way into his life, thanks to you.

You, a journalist with a keen sense of the world and a heart full of warmth, had unknowingly begun to chip away at his fortress of solitude. Physical affection was your language, a means to express what words sometimes could not. Whether it was a gentle squeeze of his hand, a soft kiss goodbye in the morning, or the way your fingers would brush his when you passed him a cup of coffee, each touch reverberated through him like the soft hum of a melody long forgotten.

This evening was different; Hotch felt an unfamiliar, gnawing ache as he drove home after a particularly grueling case. The images from the day were harsher than usual, the weight of each decision heavier. As he turned the key in his apartment door, the silence of the room felt suffocating rather than peaceful. He needed something he’d never consciously admitted he needed before—comfort.

You were there, sitting on the sofa, papers sprawled around you as you scribbled notes for your latest article. The lamp cast a soft glow around you, creating an aura that seemed both inviting and serene. Hearing the door, you looked up, your expression shifting from concentration to concern in a heartbeat.

“Hey,” you greeted, your voice a soothing balm. “Rough day?”

Hotch only nodded, locking the door behind him before joining you on the sofa. The space between you was minimal, but to him, it felt like miles. He watched as you set your pen down, turning your full attention to him, your eyes filled with unspoken questions.

There was a palpable hesitation in the air. Hotch had never been one to reach out first, to seek solace or admit a need for anything beyond the basics. But as he sat there, the remnants of the day’s burdens clinging to him, he realized how much he yearned for that simple, healing connection. The warmth of your hand, the comfort of your presence—it was a silent call to which his heart responded before his mind could.

“You know,” Hotch began, his voice rough around the edges, “I think I’m starting to understand why you...” He paused, searching for the right words, “why you value touch so much.”

You shifted closer, reducing the cold space between you. “It’s healing,” you said softly, reaching out to place a hand on his knee. “Sometimes, words aren’t enough.”

Hotch let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. He looked down at your hand, a lifeline thrown in the still waters of his turmoil. “Could you—” His voice faltered, unaccustomed as he was to asking for more. “Would you just hold me for a bit?”

The corners of your lips turned up in a gentle smile, eyes sparkling with warmth and understanding. Without a word, you shifted, opening your arms to him. Hotch moved closer, allowing himself to be pulled into an embrace. He rested his head against your shoulder, feeling the tension begin to seep out of his muscles as your hands gently rubbed his back.

In the quiet of the room, with the hum of the city life buzzing faintly beyond the walls, Aaron Hotchner, the steadfast leader of the BAU, realized how profound the gesture was. Here in your arms, he wasn’t just the unit chief or a federal agent; he was just Aaron, a man learning the language of love through the touch of someone who spoke it fluently. And as he relaxed into the embrace, allowing the comfort to wash over him, he understood that it was okay to ask for this—to need this.

The simplicity of the moment, the profound impact of your touch, reshaped the contours of his world, teaching him that even the strongest of us need a haven, a safe place to rest. And perhaps, for Aaron Hotchner, that place had been here all along, in the arms of the person who had taught him the true strength found in vulnerability.

II.

It had been weeks since Aaron Hotchner first admitted the comfort he found in your touch. Each day, the memory of that evening lingered in his mind like a soft echo, a reminder of the unfamiliar territory he had begun to explore. He knew he needed to cross it again; the day’s events had been a brutal reminder of his job's relentless demands. Yet, as he stood outside the door to your apartment, his hand paused in mid-air, a familiar sense of reticence taking hold.

Hotch had never been one to rely on others for emotional support—not with Haley, and certainly not with Beth. With Haley, their closeness had been a given, an expectation filled more out of duty than desire. With Beth, it was casual, simple, lacking the deep intertwining of lives that true intimacy brought. But with you, it was different. Every moment shared, every touch, felt like a deliberate step into a world where vulnerability was not a weakness but a shared strength.

As he finally turned the key and stepped inside, the warm glow of the living room offered a stark contrast to the darkness of his thoughts. You were curled up on the couch, a book in hand, the very picture of relaxation. But your eyes lifted the moment you sensed his presence, shifting with an intuitive spark from contentment to concern.

“Hey,” you said, your voice pulling him further into the safety of the room. “Everything okay?”

Hotch hesitated, his feet rooted just beyond the threshold as he met your gaze. “Can we talk?”

The simplicity of the question masked the turmoil beneath. You set your book aside, patting the couch next to you. As he sat, the familiar, comfortable distance between you now felt like a chasm. He needed to bridge it, yet the words—and the admission they required—weighed heavily on him.

“I’m not very good at this,” Hotch started, his voice a mix of resolve and reluctance. He paused, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. “Asking for... support. For something as simple as a hug. It’s not how I was... how I’ve been.”

You listened, your body turned towards him, your eyes soft and encouraging. The room was filled with the soft ticking of the clock, marking the seconds as he gathered his thoughts.

“I’ve always thought I needed to handle things on my own,” he continued, his gaze drifting to the window, to the world outside that demanded so much of him. “With Haley, with Beth... it was different. I never felt I could ask for that…I never felt like I needed that with them. It was always about fulfilling expectations, about maintaining a facade.”

Turning back to look at you, he saw the understanding in your eyes, and it gave him the courage to continue. “But with you, I feel...” Hotch struggled for the right words, “I feel that it’s okay to ask. To need.”

The admission hung in the air between you, a confession of his evolving heart.

“You can always ask me, Aaron,” you said gently, reaching out to take his hand. “I want to be here for you, in whatever way you need.”

Feeling the warmth of your hand in his, Hotch felt the last barriers within him begin to crumble. “Would you just...be here?” he asked, the words less difficult this time, more a relief than a burden.

Without a word, you opened your arms, and he moved closer, letting his head rest against your shoulder. As your arms wrapped around him, a sense of peace settled over him. Here, in the quiet of your embrace, the world's demands faded into the background. It was just him, just Aaron, learning to be human, learning to accept the touch, the love, that he had never known he needed so desperately.

As you both sat there, the struggles of the day slowly dissipating into the warmth between you, Hotch realized this was not just about seeking comfort. It was about building a new normal, one where he could be strong not just for others, but for himself, by acknowledging the simple human need to be held, to be loved.

III. 

The weight of his past was something Aaron Hotchner carried with him like a silent shadow, shaping the man he became—a man of law, of order, a protector. Growing up with a father whose temper was as swift as it was brutal had taught him early on that vulnerability was a liability, and that physical touch, rather than a comfort, could be a precursor to pain. It was a lesson ingrained so deeply that even now, as he walked alongside you after a long day, he found himself grappling with an old, familiar sense of shame.

He watched you laugh at something light and trivial, the sound as free and open as the park around you. Your hand brushed against his occasionally, a simple touch, yet each contact sparked a silent battle within him. He needed more than those fleeting connections; he needed the grounding, comforting weight of your touch to anchor him away from the tumultuous sea of his memories. But asking for it, needing it, felt like a betrayal of the stoic image he had cultivated for so long.

"You're quiet today," you observed, slowing your pace to match his troubled stride. "What's on your mind?"

Hotch hesitated, his instinct to retreat warring with the growing trust he placed in you. He took a deep breath, the cool air of the early evening filling his lungs, as he prepared to voice the thoughts that rarely saw the light of day.

"It's... difficult for me," he started, his voice rough with unspoken emotions. "Growing up, I never saw... My father, he wasn’t a man who showed affection. He believed men needed to be strong, unyielding. And I learned to see touch as something to be wary of, not something to seek comfort in."

You stopped walking, turning to face him fully. The empathy in your eyes was palpable, a silent encouragement for him to continue.

"And I find myself struggling with that legacy. Feeling as if needing touch, needing your comfort, is a form of weakness. Sometimes, it feels like... like I’m failing some archaic test of manhood just by admitting I need that connection," he admitted the words tasting foreign on his tongue. He thought briefly to Jack--would he ever want Jack to feel this shame for needing affection?

You reached out slowly, deliberately, taking his hand in yours, your grip firm and reassuring. "Aaron, it's okay to need touch, to seek out comfort. It doesn’t make you less of anything. It makes you human," you said gently. "I need it too. I need your touch just as much as you might need mine. It’s okay for us to find safety in each other."

Hotch looked down at your interlocked fingers, the simple act of holding hands suddenly imbued with deeper meaning. He felt the tension begin to ebb, the shame receding under the warmth of your acceptance.

"Could we... Could you just hold my hand? Like this, for a while?" he asked, his voice more steady than he felt. It was a small request, yet it felt monumental.

"Of course," you smiled, squeezing his hand lightly. And so you both resumed walking, hands clasped tightly, a silent pact between you. With each step, Hotch felt a little more of the barriers within him dissolve, his past receding into the background.

This touch, so different from the crushing grips of his father, was healing. It was a reminder that he had the power to redefine what strength meant to him. Strength wasn’t just enduring in solitude; it was also in reaching out, in admitting need, in allowing himself to trust in the safety you offered.

As the park's paths wound before them, lined with the soft glow of streetlamps, Aaron Hotchner walked with a lighter heart, knowing that with each step, he was moving not just away from his past, but towards a future where he could be whole, where he could embrace vulnerability as courageously as he faced down any other challenge. And all it took was the simple, healing touch of holding hands.

IV. 

The clock on the hotel room wall ticked past midnight, its sound unnervingly loud in the otherwise silent room. Aaron Hotchner sat on the edge of the bed, his phone in his hand, the weight of the unresolved case pressing down on him like a physical burden. The room felt cold, impersonal, a stark contrast to the warmth and comfort of home—of you. With each passing hour, the sense of losing control, of failing to bring the case to a close, gnawed at him, amplifying his isolation.

He stared at the phone, debating. Calling you felt like an admission of his own helplessness, a crack in his armor he was seldom comfortable revealing. But tonight, the distance felt more than geographical; it was an emotional chasm he was desperate to bridge.

Finally, with a resigned sigh, he dialed your number, listening to the ring that seemed to echo around the sparse room. When your voice finally came through, it was like a lifeline thrown across the miles.

"Hey, Aaron," you greeted, your voice sleepy yet filled with warmth. "Is everything alright?"

Hotch hesitated, the familiar reluctance to expose his vulnerabilities warring with his need to hear your reassuring words. "I’m not sure," he admitted, his voice low. "It’s been a tough day. We’re... we’re not making the progress I hoped for, and it feels like we’re running out of time."

He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing, "I just... I wish you were here. I could really use the comfort of just lying beside you right now."

There was a soft sigh on the other end of the line, not of frustration, but of shared sorrow. "I wish I could be there too," you said softly. "To just lie there with you, to make it feel a little less heavy."

Hotch closed his eyes, allowing himself to imagine that simple scene: the two of you together, the weight of the day's failures temporarily lifted. "It’s strange," he continued, his voice a mix of wonder and resignation. "I used to think I had to face everything alone. But now, it’s moments like this, just imagining being with you, that seem to help the most."

"And that’s okay, Aaron," you reassured him. "It’s okay to need someone, to miss this. I’m here, even if it’s just like this—over the phone. Tell me, what would we be doing if I were right here with you?"

Hotch let out a half-hearted chuckle, the scenario playing out vividly in his mind. "We’d be in bed; I’d be holding you close. Maybe we’d talk about anything but the case just to distract me. Or maybe we’d just lie in silence, just feeling you there would be enough."

"Then let's do that, just over the phone," you suggested gently. "Close your eyes, Aaron. I’m right there with you, okay? I’m holding your hand, lying right beside you. We don’t need to talk about anything else unless you want to."

Hotch did as you suggested, lying back against the pillows, phone pressed to his ear, eyes closed. He listened to your breathing, steady and calm, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions inside him. Gradually, his breathing slowed to match yours, the tension starting to ebb away.

"We’re going to figure this out," you whispered after a long silence, your voice firm yet tender. "You’re not alone in this, Aaron. Remember that."

"I know," Hotch replied, a sense of peace finally beginning to settle over him. "Thank you, for being here like this."

"Always, Aaron. Whenever you need me," you assured him, and though the miles remained between them, Aaron Hotchner felt a little less alone, bolstered by the simple, profound connection of your voice in the darkness, a reminder of the strength found not just in presence, but in the promise of unwavering support.

V.

The moment the breakthrough in the case was confirmed, a wave of relief washed over Aaron Hotchner. It wasn’t just any case; it was one that had stretched the resources and emotional resilience of his team to their limits. Now, standing in the quiet hum of the BAU offices, surrounded by the bustling energy of his colleagues celebrating their hard-won victory, only one thought dominated his mind: sharing this moment with you.

As he stepped away from the crowd, pulling out his phone, his heart raced with a blend of triumph and anticipation. He could already imagine how your face would light up, the way your eyes would sparkle with shared joy. Dialing your number, he found himself smiling, a rarity that felt both foreign and exhilarating.

The phone barely rang twice before you answered. "Hey, Aaron, what's up?" your voice came through, always a balm to his often stormy existence.

"We did it," Hotch burst out, unable to contain the enthusiasm in his voice. "We solved it, finally. And it’s... it’s a big relief."

"Really? That's amazing, Aaron!" you exclaimed, your excitement palpable even through the digital divide. "I wish I could see your smile right now."

Hotch laughed, a sound of pure joy. "I wish you could, too," he confessed. "And I... I really wish I could hug you right now. Celebrate this moment with you."

"Me too," you sighed. "I’d give anything to give you a big hug and a kiss. You deserve it after all the hard work and long hours."

The image of that—of returning home to you, of your arms open and welcoming—solidified his next decision. "Wait for me," Hotch said impulsively. "I’m coming home now. I can’t think of a better way to end this day than being with you."

"Really? You’re on your way?" your voice lifted in surprise and delight.

"Yes, I just... I need to be with you," Hotch admitted, feeling a warmth spread through him at the thought of seeing you soon.

"Drive safe, Aaron. I’ll be here, waiting," you promised, a smile in your voice.

The drive home felt different this time. Each mile closer to you, Hotch felt a growing sense of anticipation, a lightness he hadn’t experienced in years. When he finally pulled into the driveway, his pulse quickened. He barely took the time to lock the car before heading to your door.

The moment you opened it, the look on your face was everything he had imagined. Joy, love, pride—all reflected in your eyes. You didn’t speak; you simply stepped forward, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace that spoke volumes. Hotch returned the hug with equal fervor, burying his face in your hair, inhaling the comforting scent that was uniquely you.

After a long moment, you pulled back just enough to look at him, your hands framing his face. "Congratulations, Aaron," you whispered before pressing a soft, celebratory kiss to his lips.

The kiss, sweet and affirming, was a perfect punctuation to the day’s victory. "Thank you," Hotch murmured against your lips, his voice thick with emotion. "For everything."

As you both stepped back inside, hand in hand, Aaron Hotchner felt a profound gratitude not just for the case solved, but for the personal victories he was beginning to achieve. Tonight was not just a celebration of a job well done, but of new beginnings, of barriers broken, and of the indescribable comfort found in the arms of the one he loved.

+I

The room was cloaked in darkness, only the faint glow of the city lights filtering through the curtains provided any illumination. It was deep into the night when Aaron Hotchner was jolted awake, not by a sound but by a palpable shift in the atmosphere. Beside him, he could feel you stirring restlessly, your breaths quick and uneven.

Turning towards you, Hotch could just make out your silhouette in the dim light. Your movements were tense, a stark contrast to the usual peacefulness of your sleep. "Hey," he whispered softly, reaching out to gently touch your arm. "Are you okay?"

You turned to face him, and even in the weak light, Hotch could see the distress etched across your features. "I... I had a nightmare," you admitted, your voice shaky. "It was nothing, really, but it felt so real."

Hotch’s instincts as both a partner and a profiler kicked in. He knew the power nightmares held, the way they could claw their way into one's peace of mind. "You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to," he assured you, his tone soothing. "Just tell me what you need."

You moved closer to him, seeking his warmth. "Could you... just hold me? Maybe... just your touch, it helps," you requested, a hint of vulnerability in your voice that pulled at his heart.

Without hesitation, Hotch opened his arms, and you nestled against him, your head resting on his chest. His hand began to stroke your hair gently, the other arm wrapped securely around you, grounding you to the here and now. "I’ve got you," he murmured into the darkness.

The rhythm of his heartbeat under your ear and the steady, reassuring pressure of his hands brought a slow but sure calm. Hotch felt you relax incrementally, your breathing eventually deepening as the remnants of the dream faded under the safety of his touch.

He lay there, awake, holding you, feeling a profound sense of protectiveness and love. In his career, he had often been the one to offer a safe harbor to others in their moments of need. But with you, it was deeper, more personal. It was a shared journey of giving and receiving comfort, of building a sanctuary not just for you but for himself as well.

As the night slowly gave way to the early hints of dawn, Hotch felt you stir slightly in his arms. "Better?" he asked quietly, not wanting to disturb the peace that had settled over you.

"Yeah, much better," you replied, your voice still soft but steadier now. "Thank you, Aaron, for being here."

"Always," Hotch responded, a quiet conviction in his voice. He knew the challenges that lay ahead, in both his professional and personal life, but in this moment, he felt a clarity and a determination to face them all, as long as he had you by his side. With each other's support, there was nothing they couldn't face, no nightmare too daunting to overcome. And as the first light of morning crept through the window, it underscored a silent promise exchanged in the quiet comfort of their embrace—a promise of always, of home, of never having to face the dark alone.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

@sleepysongbirdsings

@justyourusualash

@person-005

@iyskgd

[oswildin]

Loki x Bestfriend!You Headcannons (He’s In Love With You)

A/N: Avenger!Loki AU, Avenger!You

You’re the first person he has ever felt he could just be himself around. There were no titles, no expectations, just Loki. It was freeing.

Loki always searches for you first whenever he hears the latest bit of gossip around the compound (yes, he most definitely is a gossiper, he just loves the drama, and if he can stir the pot, oh he will).

Quiet evenings with you. You force him to watch films with you, and he always grumbles and will consistently commentate through the whole thing, but secretly, he loves it. He loves being able to spend time with just you, away from everyone else.

He thinks he masks his feelings well, he’s known for deception after all, but no… It’s clear to everyone that the man is totally head over heels and would do anything (and I mean anything) for you. They have bets on how long it takes for him to finally tell you.

He didn’t realise what he felt at first, having never really felt romantic love before. Sure, he’d had fancies, but never anything… real.

It took him a long time to realise that yes, it was in fact ‘love’ he felt for you. The moment he realised was when you were both taking a stroll around the compound grounds, the sun was shining, the birds were singing, everything felt perfect. And then you turned to look at him, the sun sitting perfectly behind you, casting you in an almost ethereal glow.

It was then he felt his heart skip a beat, a flutter in his belly, his eyes widening a fraction at the sight of you. He felt sick and excited at the same time. Nervous yet comfortable. Scared yet peaceful. How was that even possible? Even for a God of his own contradictory nature, that all felt so contrasting.

“Loki? You good?” You’d raised a brow, giving him a strange look as he hadn’t said anything in a good ten seconds - which was rare for him.

“Hm?” Loki had blinked, clearing his throat. “I- uh, yeah, yes. Fine.” He had awkwardly told you, nodding, trying to regain composure.

How utterly cliche. Like a scene from one of those awful romantic films you made him suffer through.

Oh, how his gaze softens whenever you’re in the room. Almost like a lovesick puppy. If his past self could see him now, he would’ve called him ‘pathetic’ and tell him to ‘get a grip’.

But current Loki, he didn’t care. The way you made him feel was unlike anything he’d ever felt before.

Of course he had to fall for his best friend. It couldn’t have just been simple. Easy. But then again, of course he had to fall for his best friend… To even be considered his best friend, well, that was no easy feat.

He takes any reason to be ridiculously close to you. Cooking? You bet he’s standing right beside you at the stove, moving every time you move to grab a spice. Watching a film? Yeah, there’s plenty of space on the sofa, but on the other side of it he can’t make sure his arm is touching yours. Handing him something? Oh, he is practically grabbing your whole hand just to feel the tingle go up his arm.

There was one time he had overheard Natasha mentioning she was planning to set up a blind date for you. He had never interjected himself into a conversation so fast before.

“A blind date? How… tedious. Besides, doesn’t it seem counterintuitive? Going to meet someone you have never seen before? Don’t even know the name of? They could be a- a psychopath or a murderer, or worse yet utterly hideous and dull.”

Yeah, he handled that with his usual tactile diplomacy. (Sarcasm)

“That’s not how blind dates work, Loki.” Natasha told him with a smirk. “I know the candidate.”

“Oh, well that makes me feel a lot better.” Sarcasm, obviously.

Loki was extremely relieved when he found out you had turned down her offer.

“Babe, could you pass me the salt?” You’d once said.

Natasha AND Loki both reached for the salt.

You looked at Loki strangely. Natasha simply smirked. Loki looked extremely embarrassed. He didn’t even like the thought of being called ‘babe’. Well… At least not until you’d said it. Even if it wasn’t to him.

“I thought you said ‘hey’-“ Loki had tried to cover.

You got hurt on a mission? Even just a scratch? Oh, Loki is worrrrieeeddddd.

“Let me see.” He’d insist. “Loki, I’m fine-“ You’d try. “Yes, maybe so, but I’d like to be sure, you mortals are extremely fragile-“ He’d say with his usual dry humour.

He’d dress your wound, even if the med staff had done, he would always find something to critique, something that he could do better. All because he wanted to be the one to make sure you were okay, safe, looked after.

The sun is in your eyes? How dare it, utterly unacceptable, he would not have it. He would destroy it for such an offence. (Not really, but you get the idea).

“Loki, no-“ Tony had said. “Loki, yes-“ Loki had said. “Loki, no.” You had said. “Loki, no.” Loki had said. (Again, you get the idea).

He just found you… utterly comforting. Safe. You accepted him for him. Not the masks, just him. And he finally felt like he belonged. And he would be damned if he ever lost that. Whether he ever revealed how he felt or not…

Spoiler: He does, by accident. Slip of the tongue. What a tragedy for a God known for his silver-tongue, but it seemed even he had his slip-ups, his moments of humanness.

Another spoiler: Of course, you loved him too.

[writingmochi]

part 1

cast: heeseung ✗ fem.reader (ft. the peeps, enhypen, and other idols)

synopsis: when you told your long-term rival and latest hook-up, heeseung, that you are pregnant with his child; you didn't expect said topic to be involved in your rivalry!

genre: romantic comedy, slice of life, coming-of-age, slow burn, drama, rivals since childhood to [redacted], college/university au, pregnancy au, future parents au, fluff, angst, mature content (explicit smut)

word count: 24198 (24.2k) out of 60550 (60.5k)

warning(s): pregnancy (what did you expect?), so many curse words!, description of explicit sex (in a flashback sense), rough sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, manhandling, vomiting, mention of drugs (marijuana, alcohol), mention of blood, dark humor (if there is something that i forgot, let me know)

message of the moon: remember that this story is fiction and do be careful and read the warnings at the top. all the idols mentioned here are not what they are in real life.

first fic of 2024! i've ideated this since like 2022 and it's here what the heck!! this is part 1 of 2 of a 57k-58k word count one-shot (yes, this is supposed to be a one-shot) but tumblr hates me so i have to divide it into two. thanks for the 200+ notes on the teaser/character intro and i hope you enjoy it!

soundtrack (spoilers for part 2!) | part 2

prologue: a town called valentine

it was valentine 2002 when you and heeseung first met. well, if you consider babies who can’t even talk to each other will know of each other. you have to thank both of your moms for that—getting pregnant around the same time and giving birth in the same year as well.

but the earliest—vivid—memory you have of him was on valentine 2005. you hid behind your mama’s leg as she talked with someone: another adult. you glance around the outside space you’re in, the plants and pathway unknown to you as mama can see your eyes wander with your tiny mouth agape when you look past the other adult to recognize the widening door right beside them. you heard your mother giggling with the other person as they converse about something your 4-year-old mind wouldn’t be able to understand.

“(y/n) sweetie! say hi to auntie.” your mama caresses your hair with her hand as she guides you to stand beside her, her hands moving behind your small set of shoulders before you. the small hands reached for one of hers, holding it tight as you stood beside her.

“hello…” you looked up to meet a beautiful woman. her eyes are wide as they remind you of the mother deer you last saw when you watched bambi with mama and papa. and you can feel a ticklish feeling inside you as you watch her eyes smiling softly at you. as she smiles at you softly.

“hello (y/n)! you’ve grown so much since i last met you.” her hands give a wave, making you raise your hand up as you mirror her while you pick up your mama’s chuckle. the lady moves back, extending her arm as you see a clean hallway full of photos on one side and a cabinet full of shoes on the other. some of them looking similar to your own shoe size.

“please come inside. i’ve set the toys so she can play with them if she wants.” the lady—well, auntie—said as your mama guided you inside with her trailing behind. sitting on the hidden seating area by the cabinet, she helps you take off your shoes before opening her hands to let you hold them. she lets you walk in front as both of you enter a big room with a sofa in front of a television. as per told by mama every time you enter someone’s home: sit down beside mama or papa as you waited for the homeowner to guide you next. the back of the sofa is too tall for your height now and you let your hand graze against the side of the soft sofa when you encounter a large mat laid in between the sofa and the screen.

your brain tingles when you find a few toys you can name—like the ones you own back home—while a few of them you don’t recognize at all. eyes on the toys, you throw away whatever your mama has told you and tug her hand to let her know the existence of them. looking up, she looks down at you, glance at the pile of toys left behind, and gives nods, making you grin as you both sit on the playmat. your eyes immediately look at blocks stacked shaping like a house; its triangle roof, square walls, four windows, and door makes you easily imagine it. you crawl towards it and the box beside it, finding the other blocks left behind as you pull some of them out to make your own little house. as you slowly stack up the blocks—hearing the sound of wood tapping against each other—you heard the sound of giggling coming from behind the sofa.

“sorry, he just finished taking a bath.” auntie said to your mom who was behind you, walking closer to the sofa as you turned your head to face her. that’s when you see another person walking into the room with a small pitter-patter heard behind them. the steps are getting louder and louder as you see a small figure enter the room, walking towards the person laughing. the person wipes his face with his small hand before pausing, turning his head to you.

“hi heeseung!” you heard your mama say as the boy’s laugh slows down and he looks at you and your mama. auntie, who now looks more like the bigger version of the boy, steps in to help him move and sit down beside you. you see him crouch down as you can see his face clearer. yet, his eyes wander on the house made of blocks—his house—and the house you’re making; wider by one block than his.

“that’s (y/n). you were too young to remember but auntie and i always bring you two to playdates since you’re not even one year old. she’s the same age as you.” you heard auntie say as you felt your mama help you to scoot closer. his hand reaches for the box of blocks as you place the final block on your house while he’s pulling out more blocks. you look at the boy’s action as you feel mama, with her larger hand, holding onto your smaller one. your palm is now open as you see heeseung was told to do the same by his mom, putting away the blocks on the mat. your hands meet each other as you say your name. mama helps in closing your fingers, wrapping your hand in his as he follows.

“my name is (y/n).” the boy’s hand also uses the same force when you shake it. both women let go of their children’s hands as both of your little hands are floating, connected, and shaking. your eyes meet his as he looks back at the two houses made of blocks.

“my name is heeseung.” he smiles.

-

1. stay soft, silly

the way the corner of his mouth twitches makes you think outside of the plan you are executing now, nearly done in telling him what he needs to know.

your hands rested on top of your stomach, feeling a little bulge that was not there a month ago. his ice americano contrasts with your hot jasmine tea as you sit across from each other. years upon years of history went on pause for this moment. for a truce that you are proposing.

“and they’re mine?” heeseung sounded. your eyebrows folded, looking down at the swollen part beneath your stomach as you pouted your lips, holding back your giggling as you glanced back at him.

“i haven’t had sex with anyone this past month besides you. so, yeah. the baby is yours.”

it’s funny, you see. with the amount of carefulness you and your friends have taught you of the college hook-up culture you got roped into, you never expected to hook up with your rival. yet tension does what tension does, and it snaps as you both stumbled to kiss each other.

when it comes to your “relationship” with heeseung, the closest to a positive one was when you were in kindergarten, as you’ve known him before by the amount of playdates both of your mothers set up.

little did they know that one time at a playground during one of those playdates, you were left alone to play with your sandcastles as heeseung ventured to play with the other boys, running around the sandpit playing tag and how you see the familiar little jeans pants walks in front of you, knocking the castle down and flying the specks of sand to your face with your slower reaction speed—because of your younger age—not making you close your eyelids quicker. your eyes watering as you wail out, getting the attention of your mama but not the jean-wearing boy’s attention as you hear his mom telling him to stop. apologizing is simple for your younger self, just a plain “sorry” is okay. but when lee heeseung—who you consider your friend at that time—said “sorry” with a grin on his face, you caught onto the impression that he was not sorry at all.

at age 7, you came back from the cafeteria to your class to find heeseung and his gang of boys pulling on a girl’s hair, the familiar sadness showing on her face as you caught her eyes. you’ve known that they’ve played “dirty” and have been teasing other girls in your class before—just not you, which is strange in itself. with a tense set of hands, you push the boys away with your might and stand in between them, helping the girl who cowers behind you. you look down to watch heeseung on the floor, teeth showing and face crunched as he sees the scratch from when you pushed him near his elbow.

“what was that for?”

“to stop you. she doesn’t like it.”

one of his boys helps to pick him up on his feet as you can see him limping. your arms still wide as you protect the girl as best as you can. he pushes his sweaty bangs off his face as you can define the same gaze he had given you when you were 5 at the playground, now fiery. and you exude the same thing with your glare as you see the other boys helping carry him out to the nurse's office, his eyes staying on yours as you feel the girl’s hand holding you back from not walking after him again.

stickers become score markers as you and he tried to compete to get the most out of them, which comes with being nice and clever during classes. you were 10 when you had the same class as him once again, having to compete to be the quickest when raising your hands. but also the lowly giggles you give each other as you both realize just how wrong each other’s answers that comes with the teasing annoyance. it also comes in gym class as the teacher divided you up into different teams during team games—basketball being the most competitive as you are familiar with it. heeseung doesn’t hesitate to run towards you if you have a ball and try to dribble it across the court, pulling it as you try to pass it to your teammate, resulting in a tug-of-war where you both just don’t want to let it go. even with the whistling from the teacher as one teammate gets a hold of it to continue the game, you instead continue to have a screaming match with him.

it continues through middle school as you remember him not hesitating with his power to slam his dodgeball at your stomach during another gym class, making you curl up on the floor as your friends help you to the nurse's office, hearing him screaming “that’s what you get from stealing my lunch” as you remembered the taste of the chocolate bread you pick up from his tray yesterday. at high school as you and him argue in front of the vice principal about each of your club’s fundings, him with his basketball club who is already so successful with their winnings money that they can’t seem to let go to help other clubs who are staying afloat. even with your school having pride in the basketball team and other sports club achievements—making it a staple for the students to watch at least one game during their high school years. you never went to one as you rather babysit your neighbor’s kid for money than watch heeseung’s smug smile as he won another mvp trophy for that tournament.

when college came and you got into hybe uni as a business major, you didn’t expect to see heeseung on campus. you’ve known that since he focuses more on basketball in middle school, you are winning when it comes to academics. but when his smirking face tells you he got into hybe with a full scholarship because of basketball, your heart plummets into the fathoms. you were glad that he’s not in the same faculty as you, but the college environment is so small that your acquaintances recognize each other. you can’t seem to stay away from him who still has his smart for balancing his gpa and non-academic activities.

so when your lips met his own as you sobered up after having the party busted by the police, your mind is telling you to out-better him in lust and pleasure.

“who can make each other cum the most? never thought of you as that filthy, (l/n)”

the grip of his hair on your hand tightens as he trails his own to get a grip of yours. both of your heads now straight as you can’t look away from each other even if you want to.

“i take that you’re saying that because you don’t know how to make girls cum with your dick, lee.” you chuckled. heeseung’s gaze is still meeting yours as he pushes your head forward, making your forehead touch his as he mumbles something only you can hear.

“i know i can make you cum on my dick just by the way you’re clenching your thighs, baby. how do we tally the score?”

“start a kiss on the lips when you know you can’t hold back?”

“deal.”

“by the way, who won?” heeseung asked, leaning his body forward on the table as you peer down at his position from you, holding yourself as you stretch your back to help with the pain.

“how many times did you cum? and don’t fucking lie.”

heeseung’s bed is rocking beneath you as he folds you up in half, your knees on either side of you as he pounds into you. gasps fall out of your mouth as you pull on his hair, something you realize he likes after the amount of groan coming out of him from when you tug him. praises come out of your mouth as you try every method you can to turn him on first; to make him cum first. but the way he is pushing down on your abdomen makes you clench harder.

“look at how you’re clenching onto me. you’re close, aren’t you?” he whispered as you felt the breeze blowing onto your saliva-stained neck you are certain had hickeys on it. heeseung had to remind himself that he couldn’t kiss your lips, no matter how delectable they were, changing to kissing your neck.

“n-“ you moan as heeseung’s hand traces down to grip your ribcage, pulling you closer to him so he could find another angle to reach you deeper, pleasuring you both in return. “no.”

“don’t lie to me, (y/n).” his head pulls back from your crook as you watch his bangs faltering from the hard pounding to his mattress. “god, you’re so fucking hot when you’re under me.”

“fuck, just like that.” you retaliate with your own dirty talk, hands holding his waist so he could stay longer in your cavern as you grip him. but when you sense his breath against your skin, nose upon nose touching, the grip on his waist trails up as you cup his face. nodding your head as you feel him getting faster, you pull his head down and make his lips meet yours. you bit your bottom lip as your muffled moans vibrated between the two of you. your body giving up for a moment as he continued to thrust into you, making you let go as you let out a silent scream when you felt the moist gushing against him inside you. heeseung’s lips are unhesitant to kiss between your eyebrows as your body calms down from shaking, eyes rolling back to their original place as you continue to caress his cheekbone before a surge of energy comes back to you. you push him to the side, placing him down on the mattress as your hands grab both of his wrists to rest beside his head.

“i can feel you twitching inside me, hee. i know you’re close,” you said as you bounce on his lap, feeling the way your essence fell out and how much slick is on his penis because of you. as you have the upper hand, you decide to tease him by falling on him slower than the pace you have familiarized, making his wrists flinched under your hold as you click your tongue.

“you like how my walls are sucking you?”

“fuck, yes,” he mumbled under his breath.

“yeah..?” you replied as you leaned forward, making heeseung reach up to kiss your areola as best as he could.

“come on. you don’t wanna cum again?” heeseung asked in such a whiny voice that makes you snicker at how needy he has become. you decide to continue your teasing when you trail your nose along his face as you give a tiny kiss underneath his earlobe where you see the hickey you made on his clavicle. you move your hips so slowly as you feel how he becomes more erect even when he’s inside you.

“you’re the one who denies it yourself. i’m currently helping you here.” you poke your tongue and trace down his adam’s apple to his chest, reaching his nipple and giving it a suck. heeseung’s hip shoots up into you as he wants to take control. your hand moving closer to his palm with the grip that is getting loose as he pushes both his arms to let go of your hold. yet, you pull them back up as you reposition your fingers to interlock with his, withholding what he wants to make you move faster as he thrusts up into you.

you stare at how his doe-like eyes are begging for you after the number of times you have hated and feared the same eyes. how it glistens with tears because of how uncooperative you are even with your pace getting faster. with that, you lean forward as you stretch his hands and place them on your moving hips, letting them go so he can grip it hard as he tries to chase that feeling once again. you drape yourself above him as his blown-out eyes stare right at yours, his orange fiery flame meeting your own blue.

leaning forward more as you sensed one of his hands resting on your back, you brush away his hair that is sticking on his forehead as you whispered the death blow.

“you can cum in me-“

he leans up to connect your lips with his as you understand the signal, making your hips help to stimulate him more. his tongue flicking out and even wetting the skin around your lips as he moans out your name, letting out an exhale as your forehead is on his.

“want to breed you…” he whispered as you nodded, knowing just how much you like cum staining your walls as you give him a peck.

“breed me then.”

as he spoke to you about when he cums in your walls cowgirl style, you couldn’t help but snicker at the memories of his newly known breeding kink and your own creampie kink makes the resulting bun in your oven, making him flick your hand as you stare at him.

“that’s one for you and one for me- what are you thinking?” the way his voice pitches up at the end of the question makes you giggle even more.

“i swear-“ you lean forward as you realize the stage you are in, “the way our kinks create them,” you point down to your stomach.

“with the way your body shivers when i cum in you,” he said as he also leans forward. “i knew you like it. but i didn’t realize how feral you got because of that.”

“how feral we got, heeseung. fucking correct that.”

“oh fuck!” you moaned out into the mattress as heeseung held your hips up when he thrusts back into you from behind. you can sense how every time he pounds into you, his release is coming out alongside him as the wet clapping noises penetrate even the sound of both the cricketing bed frame and both of your moans. his hand goes up to your head and pulls your hair as the other pushes against your stomach, making you bend back towards him as the moans you let out of your mouth are clearer. his lips sucking another hickey onto your shoulder as you lean your head back on him to widen his access. your hands gripping onto both of the hands that are now resting on your abdomen and one on your breast, respectively.

“who can make you feel like this?” the question triggering you right away.

“y-you.”

“say my name, baby,” he said as he kissed your cheeks, making you turn your head towards the side as you opened your eyes to meet his, continuing to pleasure you into oblivion.

“heeseung…”

“go on.” he squeezed your flesh and you bit your bottom lip.

“heeseung!”

the hand on your abdomen leaves to crawl to your nub as your free hand reaches up to his nape, letting you connect your lips with his as best as you can. your body doing gymnastics before it is overcome by your second wave of cum when heeseung stops and twist your upper body to connect both of your lips fully. with his hands enveloping you, you push both of your body down as you let him spoon you.

grinding your hips against him, you reached down to gather both your cums as you give it a lick, making heeseung groan as he helps you push against him. “fuck, (y/n), how are you still so tight?”

“only for you-“ you reply as you shift away, just wanting to kiss heeseung, but then you remember the rules. with your shoulder, you push heeseung so he lays back on the bed as you lie on top of him. your knees folding so you can put your heels on the mattress as you lift yourself up and down on his shaft. you push your hands against is so you can sit and let you see the messiness yourself: both of your thighs are now covered in whiteness as you continue, realizing how sticky your skins are against each other. instead of letting you observe the messiness, heeseung pulls your upper body back to his as he also folds his knees and pushes his heels to the bed, thrusting upwards and making the pace quicker.

both of your moans combine with each other as he rests his arms around your midriff so you can’t move away from him. your head tilts to look behind you at the way heeseung is closing his eyes. as the point of your nose touches his skin, he doesn’t hesitate to turn to you and brought your lips onto his as he gives a few sputtering thrusts before you felt him cumming in you once again, making you fuller than ever.

“and that’s another two for each of us,” you replied as heeseung let out a snicker.

“still a tie, huh?”

“yeah, but we decided on a tiebreaker, right?” he responded with a hum.

with how sweaty, sticky, and tired you both are, you decide to do a tiebreaker with you sitting on his lap in a lotus position. your breath meeting his as both of you work in tandem (with a little burst exerted once in a while) to make any of you cum first and declare to be the winner of this messed-up game you made. heeseung licks the skin below your neck and plays with your breasts as you let your fingers experiment with his nipples and the way your nails scratch against his back muscles. you know that both of you are exhausted because the only sound that comes out is the small moans and whines left over. you looked down to see the messy environment you made between both of your crotches, making you scoop it up as you lift your cum-covered forefinger to your mouth, sucking it in, before pulling heeseung’s head so you can let him taste both of you.

his wide eyes glance up at you as he puts on a show to make you turn on more, swirling his tongue around your middle finger as the hand that was holding your shoulder blade reaches to your face, making his thumb pressing against your bottom lip so you can suck it. your hips grind on him faster, bouncing a few times, as both of your moans are muffled by both of your fingers. pulling your finger back, a string of saliva connected it and his lips as you cup his cheek. heeseung bites his lip as he pulls the thumb out to see your swollen lips. as you stare at each other—thinking back to the past few hours that have gotten you here in this position—you sense something strange within you. something so unfamiliar when you stare at him than the other moments you blatantly glare towards him. with the way he glances around your face as he connects your forehead with his, you recognize he might have sensed the same things too.

you don’t remember who is the first one to reach out, but as both of your lips connect, you let yourself envelop him as he did you. both of you not stopping and helping each other out as both of you cum in quick succession. not letting go of each other’s lips as you both pull away slowly; looking at the string of saliva connecting both of you as you stare at each other.

“we don’t need to discuss that.”

“no, we don’t,”

both of you replied right after the other as you see heeseung looking away from you to glance at the window beside the table. you glance at the condensation forming on the glass of his americano before glimpsing towards the booth where he sat. a duffle bag beside his backpack; you guess it will be for his basketball practice, it is near the college basketball season after all. but as you glance up at the man himself—you notice how different he has been since you were children. the way he muscled up and the baby fat on his face sheds away from the amount of sports he has to consume weekly. but, with all the invisible scars you both inflicted on each other from then until now, you weigh in just how ridiculously complex your relationship is that you don’t know if he wants to agree with it or not.

“well, now that you know…” you started, rubbing your hand against your sweater paws, “you don’t have to contribute to their life.”

heeseung hums, turning back to look towards you with confusion written on his face.

“it’s okay if you don’t want to get involved in taking care of them. it’s hard enough to be a senior-year college student, let alone raising a baby. it’s my choice to keep them, so i have to take responsibility for that.” you grabbed the now lukewarm cup of tea as you take a sip from it, placing it gently on the small plate as you continued with, “especially knowing how complicated we are.” you use your forefinger to point between him and you.

the man’s face is hard to read. he jutted his lips, biting the inside of his cheek as you see him blink whilst looking towards you, trying to get a read on you as well. being 8 weeks pregnant, you just wanted the meeting to end because you have all the other things you need to organize: telling the girls about your pregnancy diets and symptoms, telling the university about them and maybe they could give you leeway with the tests and studies, setting up appointments for with the ob-gyn and the doula of your choice, and telling your parents.

your parents who knew heeseung’s parents.

this will be awkward as fuck to experience.

“and i wish we could have a truce for the next 40 weeks.” you said, already with an exasperated voice that seemed to even surprise heeseung. “with this lifelong rivalry going on and how both of us doesn’t even want it to stop, please just… give me a slack to take care of them as best as i could.”

when you expected heeseung to reply with an okay—knowing your status as an expecting mother to at least give you some slack—you were met with a piercing gaze instead. how he looks between your face and your hidden stomach behind the table. he rests his hand on the table when you watch him considering something, and you didn’t even fucking guess he will do what he does.

“no.”

“what?”

“no. there’s no truce.” he leans forward, recognizing the gaze in his eyes as you just want to punch it out of his face for even thinking about what he’s thinking.

“no fucking way you’re thinking about this.”

“why not, (y/n)? think you can’t take care of yourself enough for the baby?”

your palm is now against your forehead, brushing against your face as it trails down when you let out a groan, “you’re trying to make a rivalry on taking care of this baby…” you let out your guess as heeseung lets out his signature smirk and a voiceless ‘bingo’.

“how? they’re in me, heeseung.”

“by giving them good nutritious food, interacting with them, i don’t know. but i know from knowing you for years that you can’t take care of yourself, knowing you have three other roommates-“

“you also have three other fucking roommates. sheesh.” you shake your head as you lean back. “anything for the baby has to go through me first, you know? i can deny it if i want.”

“then we can argue who’s right. they’re my baby too and i have the right to be involved even if you don’t want to.” your phone vibrates after heeseung’s brash reply as you see the silent alarm of your next schedule of the day. you tug the strap of your bag to your shoulder and gulp the rest of your tea.

“whatever, i have another thing to do.”

“does it involve the baby?”

“no. unless you wanna join my research class.”

you stood up from the booth as you straightened your sweater down, making heeseung glance at your abdomen before looking back at your face. “just so you remember: i’m doing this for the baby, not you.”

rolling your eyes, you flip him the bird as you walk away from him to your only class of the day, making heeseung let out a strangled smile.

-

“what the- what do you mean?”

the game continues as the other three guys look towards heeseung who is obliterating them with his king dedede, the sound of the fighting comes from the tv of their living room apartment as his fingers nimbly move on the switch controller, making the other three characters fly from the platforms as the familiar “game!” announcement calls.

the boys are sitting in various ways; beomgyu and jeongin are on the floor and jimin is beside him. the soundtrack of the super smash bros ultimate is playing in the background as heeseung smiles.

“i’m gonna be a dad.”

jeongin, the closest to the main port of the switch, quits the game as beomgyu lets out another loud shout—outside of the game—and jimin, who is sitting besides him, shakes his body with outstretched arms.

“BROOO!” beomgyu rubs his hand across his long hair as he faces heeseung fully, who is regretting not recording the reaction of his best buddies about this.

“how does heeseung, who doesn’t even like hooking up, get someone pregnant?” jimin asks to himself but also to the others as jeongin now stands in front of him, shielding the tv from his sight.

“forget that. who did you knock up, lee heeseung?” jeongin cuts through as heeseung leans back against the headrest of the couch. a mix of expressions showing on his face cause he doesn’t know if he has to laugh, be angry, be sad, or what else. he lets out a sigh as he picks the right voice tone to tell them.

“it’s fucking (y/n).”

“okay, now hold on!”

jeongin jumps, shedding the stern aura that he just created a few seconds ago. heeseung glances down at beomgyu who has his jaw dropped with jimin gripping on heeseung’s shoulder very hard.

“SINCE WHEN DID YOU TWO HOOK U-“

“shush!” jimin stands up and covers his hand on jeongin’s mouth, not wanting another complaint from the neighbors both horizontally and vertically.

“when?” beomgyu asked jeongin’s questions concisely as heeseung glanced towards the sofa and the kitchen right beside the front door of their apartment.

“you remember the party that got busted by the police?”

“yoon keeho’s party?”

“yeah, that one.” jimin acknowledges beomgyu’s answer as heeseung continues.

“long story short, (y/n) was alone and i went past her, teasing her for seeing that her friends left her behind when the police showed. she was tipsy which she shows by how easily stumbles. so i dragged her with me to our apartment when we escaped. i don’t know where you guys were, but she’s gotten a bit too annoying so i have to sober her up. we talked, and the tension was just too…” heeseung remembers as he was the one reaching for your face, to tell you to shut the fuck up, but the tension melted away before both of you proposes the game that you did. “so, we did it. and she asked me to meet up this morning and told me the news.”

“and what are your thoughts?” jimin asks, making the high-stakes emotions lower as he lets his friend talk about what he is feeling.

well, for heeseung, shock was an understatement. when he heard you utter the three words to him as he asked you what makes you want to meet up, never did he expect that to come out. surely, he has a breeding kink, and he had expected that to happen. but you told him you’re leaving early to get a plan b pill. maybe it didn’t work, but he doesn’t want to assume much about your body. then, he can sense the hidden sheer happiness blossoming within him. he wanted to smile and give you a hug, but then he remembered that it was you. that outside of his bed that night, you didn’t see him as a friend.

for someone who doesn’t hook up with people, heeseung knows how the hook-up culture works. he had heard multiple women fucking his three roommates from within his room and he could use his noise-canceling headphones against them. people might presume he is picky—a basketball jock who stays hidden and doesn’t want to hook up with anyone unlike his younger teammates—but the level of comfort is different when he has to do it with someone he doesn’t know and that’s why he rather stayed away. you? well, you are an anomaly.

though close because of your upbringing, he doesn’t know you outside of what he knows. that you were the kid who broke his truck even after he said sorry for ruining your sandcastle at that playground. that you were the kid who pushed him to the floor back when you were 7. that you’re the girl who he competes with to get the most stickers and not letting go of the basketball even though he stole it from you correctly. that he saw you stealing the bread from his tray as he came back from the vending machine. that you were the one telling the vice principal his basketball club doesn’t need as much money as they do because of their successful run, not knowing that their assistant coach stole the winning money.

so when you decide to create walls from your words, try to spin it so he doesn’t have to care about his baby, he had to say no. it’s as if you’re trying to keep the baby to yourself and not letting him in even though it takes two to tango. so, he found the most relevant way: competing for who takes care of that baby the right way—even if they’re in you. he doesn’t even think far from that thought no matter how ridiculous it is as now he realizes what a logistical nightmare it’s going to be.

“you’re making a game out of taking care of your own child but not your baby mama?” jeongin questioned after hearing heeseung’s rambling about this.

“yup…” heeseung paused, a pregnant pause. “and i need all of your help.”

jimin’s face changes as he hears the way heeseung described his face, rubbing his palm against the creases forming on his forehead as he can’t comprehend how beomgyu easily accepts his role. jimin’s head perks up at heeseung calling his name.

“yo!” jimin replied.

“since you’re the only one out of us who has a direct connection to (y/n) through chaeryeong, you’ll be my eyes, okay? asked about (y/n), how she’s doing, and all that stuff.” heeseung nodded as he expectantly looked at the boy who stood beside jeongin.

“gotcha,” he replied, his eyes wide as heeseung turned towards jeongin.

“innie, you’re my source. find any article about pregnancy and what my role is gonna be as a dad. yadda yadda yadda. all that stu-“

“i do you one better, seung.” jeongin said as heeseung lifted his eyebrows at him, tilting his head.

“my mom is an ob-gyn doctor.”

-

“miss (y/n)!”

“wear this!”

there is sounds of pitter-patters all around you as you sense the weight getting heavier on your figure. a small cape hanging off your shoulders and a crooked crown on your head, you sit down cross-legged against a round table full of toy food and kitchen utensils. girls and boys alike sit on the chairs by the table with their own capes and crowns, playing around with their cups as they all have a tea party—with the other side of the room playing with legos.

“here is your tea and cake.” you see the girl beside you giving the plate of rubber cake and an empty tea cup.

“thank you, princess rami.” picking up the teacup into your hand, you let out a loud slurping noise to drink it, before flinching away as you fan your tongue.

“i’m so sorry. is it too hot?” rami asked as you shook your head.

“i’m okay. thank you for asking,” you replied as best as you could.

“you must be careful, princess rami.” the boy across from her spoke as you tilt your head to him.

“i’m alright. prince yujin. i will be more careful with the tea.” he gave out a smile as one girl called out.

“if we are all princes and princesses, how should we call miss (y/n)?” hyunseo asked across from you.

“well, miss (y/n) should be a queen!” woonhak replied enthusiastically.

“but if miss (y/n) is a queen, should she have a king?” hyunseo continued.

“or another queen. i have two queens at home.” yujin filled in as you gave off a smile with the implication. but then the kids started to bicker with each other as you looked around the room once again.

as you entered high school, you were determined to beat heeseung in another way other than school-related activities. and what other way by being independent and richer than him at a young age? so you raked your head of a simple work that can help you gain more pocket money when one of your aunts asks you if you can babysit their daughter and how she will pay you. seizing the opportunity, you get to take care of your baby cousin as you go to your aunt’s home to help her with her food and stuff. hearing your enjoyment by the dining room table, your mom suggests more opportunities to babysit children of your family members from both sides—to your youngest uncle’s 4-year-old son and your oldest cousin’s 6-month-old baby—you have an array of skills gotten from doing childcare as your mom recommend you to babysit her juniors’ children at work, making you who wanted it for the money now wants it for the children.

it needs a certain level of charisma to charm a child so they can listen to you and with the array of children you had to babysit, you’ve met and adapted as best as you can to all of them. from being the calm tutor for a baby who is training his motor skills to help a child practice balancing on a bicycle, you understand what a child wants under their tantrums. that love you give and the love you accept makes you want to contribute more to childcare. so you started volunteering in non-formal schools and orphanages, helping to at least make their days a little better. and that’s why you worked part-time as a daycare attendant since you entered university as it is a more established institution where you can shuffle your study schedule alongside your work schedule, meeting kids who are being sent here that are still younger than school age. it reminded you of your own childhood and you’re hoping that your inner child could be happy and satisfied that you let her feel that feeling again.

“guys…” your spoken voice cuts their conversations, and they all turn to you. “a queen doesn’t have to have a king or another queen by their side. a queen can stand alone too.”

“but wouldn’t that make the queen lonely?” rami questioned, making you pout your lips as you still can’t comprehend just how blatantly honest children are that it pierces through each layer of your heart to find the right spot.

“yes, the queen will be lonely. but she also has her princes, princesses, knights, counselors, and more around her. love doesn’t always come from one person, it can also come from a group.” you replied, making the group rowdy up as they converse about love and being independent—well, ‘lonely’ as they called it—when you feel a light pat on your shoulder.

turning your head, you see a younger girl other than those around the table holding a paper, stretching it towards you.

“for you, miss (y/n)…”

you slowly pick the paper from her small hands as you observe the drawing. a simple figure made of circles and triangles with different colors. a pink filled-in shape on one side of the triangle with the circle-shaped and another taller one holding the figures hand, a yellow crown-shaped drawing on top of a circle with a smiling face inside.

she drew you.

“awww. this is so sweet and nice.” you return to look at the younger girl, a warm smile showing on your face, “thank you, hyein.” you rub your hand on her hair—something you remember she likes—as her smile widens before she runs away towards her table, where she has a few more papers scattered.

you glance at her before looking at your own stomach, unconsciously rubbing it as you can feel your own child inside you now growing along with time. then, it all came so suddenly when you felt yourself regurgitating, hand coming up to your mouth as you stood up as fast as you could towards the staff bathroom. knocking open the door of the open stall, you kneeled down as you puke out your lunch for today, feeling your gag reflexes kicking in. you sensed a hand soothing down your back as you reached for the flush to drain it down the toilet bowl.

“you okay, (y/n)?” you hear the familiar voice of your supervisor, yoonah, behind you. nodding your head, you reach for the toilet paper and tear it apart as you wipe the remains and saliva off your lips. reaching for the crown that fortunately doesn’t fall when you puke your inside, you hold on to it as you stand up and veer around to the sink to clean your mouth, gargling and spitting out as you wipe the droplets of water from your lips.

“how is it going with the pregnancy?” she asked as you watched her reflection behind yours in the mirror. you nodded your head and chuckled.

“didn’t vomit for the past three days and i thought that was enough, and well, here i am.” you stare at your face, seeing your eyes glistening with tears with the number of times you had to cough out until your phlegm came out. you turn your head to face your boss as she gives you a solemn smile.

“so, i have already talked to hr and we agree to have you reduce your work day to just one per week. you can enter anytime between the weekdays depending on your schedule because you have lots of things to juggle with your ob-gyn appointment. we don’t want to weigh you down more.”

you looked sideways when yoonah didn’t seem to see you being glad of it. though it helps with not exerting your body—as per doctor park’s request—it will definitely reduce your money because of the appointments and others. you haven’t told your parents yet and maybe you can ask them for more money after but with the way your friends have already helped ease your part of the rent so you have enough money for your own diet and consultations; you don’t want them to provide more for you.

“that’s great and all, but what about my pay? can it be adjusted? it doesn’t have to be 200%. like, do I only work one day for a pay of two like usual? or is it the regular one day pay? if it’s the latter, maybe a 25% increase will be great? for the consultations and others…” you said, not realizing that you had a few stray tears leaving out your eyes. nice fucking job, hormones.

yoonah picks up the crown from your head and she places it above your head, straightening it up as it rests right at the top of your head, “i will take about it to hr. you know that i’m on your side with this.” she pats your shoulder as you let out a faint “thank you” and see her walking away out of the bathroom. you brushed the tears away as you wet your hands to help unswollen them, even if it is for a bit. staring at yourself in the mirror, you pull your body up straight as you turn sideways, rubbing your abdomen as you can feel the life being put into you; piece by piece, cell by cell, forming into a human being.

as your feet enter the room one by one, tons of footsteps greet you as you look down to see the crown-wearing kids you are playing tea time with approaching you. their faces showing weariness so explicitly that you feel your heart tugging at them.

“are you ok, miss (y/n)?” hyein—the first one to be there—spoke as she was surrounded by kids taller and older than her. you notice someone holding onto your hand with their tiny one, seeing rami brushing the skin as you feel soothed.

“i am now. thank you, hyein,” you replied, letting your body fall as you kneeled before them, seeing the number of children you have taken care of for the years you had worked here. in your mind, it seemed ridiculous to think of your next move, but in a way that they have taught you so much about taking care of others, it’s proper to tell them yourself.

wiping the corner of your eyes as you feel your hormones acting up again, you speak, “what do you know about your moms?”

“mommy is very sweet to me,” hyunseo replies as she steps forward to stand next to hyein, their height difference looking so cute.

“mom is the one that picked me up from here.” woonhak also replied when you can see his mom’s smile on his own from the number of times she picked him up and showed that same smile.

“both of my mamas are the best in taking care of me and my brothers.” yujin added as there were more children rambling about their mothers, creating a wall of cacophony that seemed more like the background noise you heard each week as you worked. their voices dwindled as you looked expectantly at them one by one, a smile urging them to wait for something to come out of you.

“well, you see, i’m going to be just like your moms.”

yujin was the one that caught on first as he stepped closer and hugged you. while the others still looked confused, he turned around to looked at them and state it himself.

“MISS (Y/N) IS GOING TO BE A MOM!”

“miss (y/n)!”

“no wa-“

you heard the surge of children hugging you as you laughed out loud, seeing yoonah by the door as she also followed your laughter while you were surrounded by the children who were either hugging you or asking you questions.

“settle down, children. miss (y/n) needs a space to take a breather.” yoonah spoke up as she approached you who has a grin on your face.

“you said that you don’t have any king or queen?” yujin said as you felt your cheeks getting warmer, he now held onto the crown that slipped down your head from the number of kids that is surrounding you. while you could feel a hand on your stomach as you looked down to see hyein sitting down—remembering that she also has a pregnant mother with a little sibling on the way for her.

“it, it will be hard for me to explain it to you, but…” you felt yoonah’s hand on your shoulder as you glance at the closest clock in the room—finding the time for them to go home has come. “your moms are waiting for you to go home.”

you push yourself up to stand as yoonah guides the kids to pick their items up by the cabinets as you stand up straight, seeing the children walking around you when you see rami stepping beside you, arms wide open as you crouch down to give her a hug. you felt other sets of arms surrounding you as you giggled, pulling away your arms as the children noticed it.

“i’ll see you all next week!” you stated as yoonah brought all of them to the door of the daycare before opening them, seeing all of them going to their respective parents and guardians as a few of them acknowledged you. you turned around as you started your usual clean-up process, picking up the drawings that the children made and putting them in their own folders so you can give them to their guardians when they graduated, putting back the toys into the boxes, returning the costumes back to the wardrobe as you place the robe and crown you were also wearing, and you wanted to do one more thing, but you heard someone clearing their throat.

“i’ll clean the furniture and floor. you have done so much and you needed to eat and rest.” yoonah told you as you sighed, knowing that you seemed to be hungrier after you vomited out your food.

“thanks, boss.” you winked as she chuckled, bringing yourself to the staff room with the drawing that hyein gave to you—pinning in your mind to collect it with the drawings the kids you’ve taken care has made for you.

when collecting your things into your backpack, you glance at the paper that you printed out from your laptop as you scan the words, seeing your inked signature on the bottom as you see the blank space with the name right across from yours. heeseung’s name.

since he decided to be involved—you remembered while you talked to your faculty about your pregnancy and how they asked who the dad was, you decided to bring him up as a “student from another faculty.” it might make him think twice if he wants to be involved or not because he will get his name pin up on a note somewhere, which will be noted to his coach, lecturers, and more of his status. you are ready to be mentally burnt by the judgment your peers might give you, but is heeseung also ready?

you haven’t thought of the way you’re going to give heeseung the letter when you see minjeong’s name from your vibrating phone as you pick up the things you are bringing home and you hear yoonah talking as she sees you already leaving.

“carpool picking you up?”

“yeah, my roommate and her boyfriend.”

“okay, take care of yourself and i’ll follow up with your request.” you felt yoonah giving you a side hug as you gave a smile and wave when you pushed the door open. you breathed in the outside air to see the dark gray chevrolet camaro parked near the front of the building. walking to the back seats, you opened the door to be met with the music playing as minjeong greeted you.

“how’s work, (y/n)?” she instantly asked as sungchan lurched the car to a drive when you glanced at the bags of things beside you.

“freaking embarrassing. i vomited suddenly when i hadn’t vomited for the last 3 days but the kids reacted to it pretty okay. and i told them i’m gonna be a mom.”

“that’s so sweet!” she said, glancing back from her seat in front of you as she reached to touch you, making you sit in the middle with the console right in front of you as you see sungchan’s playing with the volume of bluetooth-connected car radio play the song that sounds so minjeong—which you can recognized right away.

“what did you guys do today?” you wiggled your eyebrows as you heard sungchan’s laugh from the way he looked at you from the rear-view mirror.

“you know what me and jeongie usually do, eat, shop, fuck, repeat-“

“no, we didn’t fuck today-“

“we did a quickie before we left to pick (y/n) up, winter.”

“okay! ughhh…” minjeong said, rubbing her face in embarrassment before replying, “i brought him to this cafe that has all these criterion collections that aren’t available on any of the streaming services we own. so i bought so many dvds for us to watch.”

“which are?”

“older movies, foreign movies. you did say that you enjoyed watching japanese movies, so i bought some of them for us to watch.”

“fuck, i love you so much for that, kim minjeong.” you replied as you heard sungchan’s little tsk, making you both giggle as his possessiveness is showing at the most ridiculous time.

“so, (y/n),” you hummed to sungchan’s starter words, “you haven’t told me who is your baby daddy.”

“guess!” you tugged yourself forward as your face was between their seats.

“how should i guess when i never see you hook up with people?” he replies as you glance at minjeong who is just watching him, an amused smile on her face.

“what if i say it’s song eunseok,” you mentioned his fellow frat bros.

“eunseok is dating that junior of his he has classes with. and he’s a loyal guy so i don’t think so.”

“what about park jisung? he’s hot in my eyes.”

“you don’t seem to be the kind to hook up with your junior,” he replied, making you squint your eyes.

“zhong chenle? he’s a fellow biz major like i do.”

“you’re definitely not his style.”

“now, that’s rude.” you hunch yourself back on the back seat as minjeong’s giggles compete with the music playing.

“you’re gonna be so shocked if we told you who he is.” she added as you nodded along, “two hints though: he’s our age and he’s a fellow jock-“

“that’s too much, jeong-ah.” you cover her mouth as her muffled nagging rings in the car. you can feel her lapping your palm, tickling your nerves and making you pull away as it’s now sungchan’s turn to have a giggling fit while watching his girlfriend and her roommate bickering. the trip was close between the daycare you work and the apartment tower you rented off-campus—but since you’ve mentioned to your roommates that you’ve been having back pain and vomiting sessions, they decided to help you out by being by your side as they drop you off or picking you up—just like what chaeryeong did as she drop you off to work before going to the dance studio.

so, when you stare out to see the small lobby of your apartment, you’re already with your backpack tucked to you as you open the door of the backseats. sungchan helped widen the door for you before going to the other side to help minjeong with the things she bought from their date. as you stood by the tiled floor of the lobby, minjeong gave sungchan one last kiss on the lips as you heard him say, “bye, babe! bye, (y/n) and hope you rest!”

“see you next week, baby.” the girl said as both you and her are waving your hands at the boy, who has entered the car driving off into the ending sunset of today. stepping inside the entrance of the apartment, you and she enter the empty elevator as you catch a glimpse at what other things minjeong had bought when you see a box from a chicken fast food brand, making your mouth water as you think about it, but you knew that you’ll be nag by dr. park for eating junk food.

pushing the handle after you put the pin on the keypad, you enter and instantly kick your shoes off as you are met with ryujin who is tying her hair up, walking towards you as she helps with minjeong’s bags. the apartment was left as you remembered this morning: a few scattered papers from either you or ryujin’s homework, the weighted blanket by the sofa now folded, and the smell of hot choco on the coffee table alongside ryujin’s laptop as you remembered that she only has online classes today.

“what did you bring?” ryujin wiggled her eyebrows as she rummaged open the bag that you’d seen when she instantly brought it to the kitchen counter when you saw her already cooking something. out of all four of you, you and ryujin are the ones talented in cooking so it’s not a surprise to see her cook for herself, but when you see the large plate that is places beside where the stove is, you know she has been making dinner for all four of you—as only chaeryeong’s the one who is not finished with her work today.

“why did you bring back fast food, minjeong? we promised to also have (y/n)’s diet.”

“that’s my leftover. chan said that the boys had too much stuff in their fridge so i brought it to us.” you then felt minjeong’s hand behind your lower back as she stood beside you, “hope you are okay with that.”

“of course, i’m okay.” you give minjeong a smile. “all of you aren’t obliged to follow my diet cause i know you love red meat, jinnie.”

“it feels wrong if i don’t follow you, though.” ryujin replied as you and minjeong go to your separate ways—she walked to her room while you stepped into the kitchen to see the food that minjeong brought. the chicken was a leftover but you also see her bringing back different meats and seafood.

“i almost forgot to ask you, but can you give me the list of the food that you can and can’t eat? just so i can help with the recipes and so we can pre-made food.” ryujin said as she put her arms behind your back, soothing you as you viewed her making japchae and beef on the pan.

“will do, ryu.” you give her a salute as she gives your cheek a squeeze before you let her be. taking your bag handle as you step towards the direction of your room, the bell of your apartment rings as ryujin turns towards you, making both of you tilt your head as you volunteer to get to the intercom.

when you press the button, the screen shows you someone you don’t expect to see as you can recognize the wolf cut hair you’ve seen while scrolling on your instagram. your footsteps immediately go to the door as you hear the ringing “hello”s from the intercom, opening it up to see the boy you’re trying your best to mask your feelings for with a box.

“heyya, (y/n)!” he replied as you widened the door to gaze at the box.

“h-hi beomgyu.” you give him a small smile as you try your best not to lock your eyes on him. to be having a crush on a boy like him is ridiculous, especially knowing that he is your RIVAL’s best friend. and the fact that you still have a crush on him since high school to then be found being in the same uni as him. if he doesn’t have heeseung by his side, you know you will brace yourself to approach him first. but now with his success as an indie musician, you know you are probably in a losing battle knowing just how spicy heeseung talks about you knowing that he has so many fans aiming at him and how you can’t compete with them—not as much as yeonjun though.

“wha, what’s this?”

“it’s for you.” he pushed the box towards you as you tried to peek inside when you felt a presence behind you.

“let me get that.” another pair of hands open by your side and you see the smirk on beomgyu’s face falter to see ryujin pulling the box against her.

“hi ryujin,” he said, a slight tremble in his voice as you finally be able to look at him with your heart eyes before back at ryujin.

“beomgyu,” she replied before leaving the door to put the box away. you eye the boy who is staring at the empty space for a few seconds too late before you are back in his attention, returning to the cheeky smile you adore.

“thank you for that!” you felt your palms getting sweatier than ever, rubbing one of them against the door to dry it.

“you gotta have to thank heeseung for that.”

the way beomgyu named he-who-shall-not-be-named shutters your fantasy as you were met with the reality. of course, it’s from heeseung, not from the boy you had a crush on—even if it means that the baby daddy trusts his best friend so much to tell him that he is having a baby with his rival. beomgyu seemed to be the nicer guy between the two. so, a girl can hope, right?

“oh yeah, wait for a minute!” you were so caught up in the way heeseung terrors you and slips back into your mind and how you wanted to slam the door when you heard his name when you remembered the paper that he had to sign. you pull the paper out of your folder as you pull one of your sticky notes and write a simple note to him. giving a smile to beomgyu, you handed him the paper as he stared at the words printed on it.

“give it to heeseung and send it back to me after that, or if he wants to submit it himself, then that’s fine. i have to give the contact person the info if he decides to send the paper to the administration himself.”

beomgyu nods as he chuckles at your note before giving a last “i will” before walking and waving away, making you close the door as you wonder how did he know where you lived. eh, that’s fine. you got to see what heeseung gave you as the box rested on top of the counter right beside ryujin who was pouring the japchae into the bowl.

slowly opening it—scared that he might have a jack-in-the-box mechanism inside it—you were met with plastics covering greens as you tugged a few of them out to be met with a bunch of fruits and vegetables still packed in their grocery’s packing. your shoulder meets ryujin’s as she took a glimpse at the new ingredient you picked out of the box.

“from beomgyu?”

shaking your head, you feel a piece of paper inside the box as you pinch it between your fingers. straighten the creases, you see the scribbles on the note as you read it in your mind.

eat them for the baby’s health and your own sanity - lhs

“heeseung,” you replied after you finish. ryujin gives a small hum as you catch the smirk on her face before you shove her with your shoulder. both of you open the plastics of the greens, vegetables, and fruits that heeseung bought for you, ryujin saying out loud the names of the greens as you and her bounce ideas of what kind of food she can make to cater to your diet.

“kale, cabbage, broccoli…” she picked another vegetable, carefully pulling away the plastics as the waft of the smell entered the kitchen. you knew of the vegetable, but being pregnant equals being sensitive to smells. and the way that you instantly wretch at the smell makes you scurry away from ryujin.

“hey, who rang the be-“

minjeong was pushed away as she saw you opening the door of their shared bathroom, making her turn around as she heard you wretch out the remaining food and saliva inside of you that is followed immediately by a flush from the toilet bowl. she walked to the kitchen to see ryujin holding stems of leaves on her hand.

“well, now we know she can’t eat arugula.”

the chime of the lock unlocked rings alongside the opening of the door of their apartment as ryujin and minjeong stare at it, seeing chaeryeong trying to breathe as she takes off her sneakers.

“WHY IS JIMIN PESTERING ME ABOUT (Y/N)?”

-

thumps and squeaks are what beomgyu heard as his eyes gazed at the lights coming out of the gymnasium. his feet working in tandem echoing through the night as he took another glance at the paper, another step away from the door as he pulled the handle to see a bunch of boys running around the wood-floored gym. beomgyu’s eyes searched for heeseung as he bit his lips, not wanting to be late for his own band practice with the boys.

turning towards the bleachers, he’s seen one of the boys that beomgyu remembered being on heeseung’s profile. his hands on top of his knees as he leans forward to see the 3 x 3 half court game beomgyu realized isn’t a part of training—but more of them having fun. he is taking a glimpse at heeseung who is muttering a curse word under his breath because the ball was stolen from his hold.

“hey, uh, sheep!”

the boy turns towards beomgyu with squinting feline-esque eyes before they widen, realizing who called him.

“your jersey has ‘yang’ on it. so i called you sheep.”

“nah, that’s okay. you’re beomgyu hyung, txt’s guitarist…” the boy stands up, their height almost the same as each other, but beomgyu knows that the kid can grow taller—from both basketball and his unfinished puberty phase, probably.

“i’m jungwon! i’m guessing you’re here for heeseung hyung?”

beomgyu glanced down at the paper as he nodded, “i couldn’t stay until he finished cause i have band practice. so, this document is for him to sign.” he told jungwon what you told him as his ghost patted himself on his shoulders for being right. beomgyu uses his thumbs to point behind him after jungwon picks up the paper that he pushed towards him and gives him a thumbs up before a loud "thank you" rings as the gymnasium door opens, leaving jungwon with a slight chuckle creeped out of his lips.

the boy couldn’t stop his curiosity as he turned the paper so he could read the writing, skimming it down as his eyebrows as he couldn’t stop his speech before it was too lat-

“HEESEUNG HYUNG IS A DAD?!”

jungwon’s shout makes movement screech to a halt as he looks up at his boys, also staring at heeseung, who is glaring at jungwon and the paper he is holding. but, his reaction speed was too slow to pull it off his grips as heeseung lost against the other five boys who had huddled towards jungwon.

��shut up!” sunoo exclaimed.

“it’s true, sun,” jongseong replied as he could hear jaeyun and riki screaming and laughing before they scurried to run around heeseung.

“who is this (y/n), hyung?” jaeyun speaks into his ear, making heeseung grimace as the three walk towards the crowd with sunghoon now holding onto the paper.

“isn’t (l/n)(y/n) your senior, jjong?” sunghoon calls out, making said boy read carefully the name with the signature on top.

“oh yeah! we had a marketing communication class together. didn’t know you knew her, hyung.”

heeseung steps in between them as he snatches the paper out of sunghoon’s grip in a quick frame. his eyes scan the paper that is written—the letter to the university administration about your status—and he can see his name printed on the side of the paper from yours. then, he finally read the note you have sticking onto the paper.

sign it and give it to the administration office. if you’re serious.

“won, it’s your turn to play,” he said as the boys stared at him. “i have things to do, plus i have a morning class tomorrow.”

“okay, hyung.” jungwon’s answer was followed by his offer to the older boys to continue the match as he felt another hand holding onto his forearm, turned to see the youngest boy with a small smile on his face.

“you gotta have to let us meet this (y/n) noona. i bet she’s pret-“

“go back to your place, riki-kun. jake’s calling for you.”

“hey, lanky. come on before i make you and jungwon switch.” jaeyun’s voice penetrates through the conversation at the correct moment as the smirk on heeseung’s face is growing. they’re leaving him alone as he walks towards his backpack and duffle bag—finally feeling the surging soreness from pushing himself hard while training and off-training. sure, it’s excessive. but the tournament is a month away from now, and he had to train for that, knowing that the matches would be back-to-back if he passed the quarter-finals.

the wood of the bleachers screeches beneath his body as he pulls out his pen, staring at the paper one last time—trembling breaths coming out from him. who knew that a single signature could hold so much power?

yet with how you are trying to deter him, to remind him that signing this will mean that the whole university will now know lee heeseung is a future father: that actually made him shake. he could feel the boiling anxiousness giving a few pumps of steam into his mind, clouding the plans he had already made in his mind from the information jeongin told him. he knows the future scenarios on both sides.

but fuck it, right? he’s not usually caring about what other people perceive. so what if he is known as a dad in nine months? but, he had to think about the parental leave you’re proposing—it might actually make him graduate late.

yet, the view is clear as he lets his pen glide on the paper.

the baby and your scowling face as you realize that his doing is the one that makes that baby so healthy.

tucking the paper in between his laptop and his wireless earbuds on his ears, he waves goodbye to the boys who are playing with sunoo giving a beautiful lay-up before he pushes the door to get out of the gym. the streetlights shining the pathways as he still can see students roaming around the campus at night—most are going to the library to maybe pull an all-nighter.

the screen illuminates his face as he scrolls down at the text jimin had sent him about you. but he had to do another victory lap first when he dialed the generic full name’s number.

“hello?”

“that will not work, (y/n).”

heeseung heard the grainy chuckle in his ear as he let his muscles’ memories take him home in the night's dark. eyes staring at the path that opens up onto the sidewalk where sparse vehicles are going about on the asphalt streets.

“so you sign it?” he caught the way you sigh against your phone while heeseung is focusing on both the conversation and what jimin texted about your condition.

“and i’ll be giving it to the office.”

“hmm, okay…” heeseung’s eyes scan through the words, letting his face contort and relax as he consumes it to his mind before it’s broken by a grainy sound of metal from your end.

“also, thanks, by the way. for the arugula. made me vomit my stomach out.” heeseung heard you reply as it slowly became more mumbled, hearing you eating your dinner’s food as the noises of the night came back into his cochlea, shaking his nerves as only white noises entertained him as he looked around—seeing his apartment building at the distance.

“and don’t make jimin ask chaeryeong about me again. she’s traumatized now and we have each other’s number saved.”

heeseung didn’t want to save your number at first. but when his mom brought him to her meeting with your mom, catching up after a long time and discussing that both of you have been accepted by the same university, they insisted that you both to have each other’s numbers saved. “for emergency sake, so you both have each other to rely on.” his mom explained, making him discreetly roll his eyes while you continue to listen to your music without giving a glance to him. yet, you’re the one that gave him your phone first so he can type his number, making a small “:p” the first thing you text to him.

“i’ll tell him.” he clicked his tongue as he caught the way you omit another information from him.

“but you’re not gonna tell me you have a doctor’s appointment next week?”

“how’d you kno-“

“jimin, from chaeryeong, and so, from you.” his smile gets bigger. “gotta have to thank jimin for that one.”

“so you want to join? what if you have a class?”

heeseung’s feet brought him to the lobby of his apartment building, his vision now on the elevator as he stated something so obvious to him.

“i have questions and i rather miss class than leave it unanswered.”

-

your hands are tugged inside your hoodie’s front pocket as you wait for your name to be called. the usual soreness is tamed as you let chaeryeong massage your back carefully, relaxing most of the tender muscles that are holding you up. you can see a little bump protruding out of your stomach that was not there when you discovered you were pregnant in week 8.

remembering the way you have to buy five pregnancy tests is ridiculous when your only symptoms are headaches and vomiting. but it quickly escalates to morning sickness and how you notice just how sensitive your senses have become—the way your fingers realize little grains of crayon as you pick up the kids’ drawing to how you’re triggered by little noises coming out off your room. it feels too strange for it to be food poisoning and with all five tests showing two blue stripes: all the problems you have faced for the past month—why your period is late, the morning sickness—all click inside your mind.

your girls were the first ones you spoke to, recalling how they waited in front of your shared bathroom as you flipped the tests around, hitting you one by one with the truth of your condition. then tears start to show as overwhelming emotions compete to show dominance and you hear chaeryeong’s voice from behind the knocks on the door. you open the door to feel them hugging you as you show them the tests, how they can’t wait to be your baby’s cool aunts from differing perspectives as they know of your history related to children, pregnancy, and motherhood from taking care of so many children, how your parents open up to you about why they couldn’t give you a younger sibling, and the responsibility you are willing to take care for them. at that moment they hugged, you’ve already fallen in love with your baby and you are determined to let them have a happy life.

the obstetrics and gynecology department’s walls were more pastel than the other parts of the hospital. maternity pack posters hanging as you read the words, planning your next steps as you waited by the door to your doctor. your fingers interlocked and thumbs twirling around each other as you attentively listen to the open door and your name being called. scouring your eyes around, you saw a little playground area for kids barren as you eyed the small set, mothers around you waiting also for their appointment—some with a sleeping baby in their hands, another with a large bump. the atmosphere is so serene that you can collect your thoughts and arrange them for the next seven months from your due date.

“hey, (y/n).”

your eyes blink as you turn around in your seat to face forward once again, looking up to find the familiar face you’ve been thinking about for the past few days.

heeseung wears a simple hoodie like you do, both of his hands tucked into the front pocket as the strap of his bag crosses his chest. a thin-lipped smile on his face as you didn’t see his usual resting bitch expression.

“heeseung…” you reply as you gnaw on the inside of cheek as he stands there, “i haven’t gotten the call from the doctor yet. so you can sit down.” your eyes glance quick at the vast space beside yours on the sofa you are also sitting down. he gave a quick nod before sitting on the space beside yours, a noticeable space between the two of you as you both lean more against each of the tables placed as the barriers between the sofas. even if you felt a piercing presence beside you, you tried your best not to look at him. the phone call when he called you was the last time you spoke with your voice to him—you having small talk with him as he found in the hospital doesn’t really count—yet he still gave you another box of ingredients for your unborn child this week, no arugula this time.

well, you are glad to see beomgyu more and you don’t mind seeing beomgyu every week if he’s the one that does heeseung’s errands for his child.

both of you stare forward at the doors and wall in front of you, nearing mirroring each other even by the slight twitch of both of you wanting to look at each other. but, also not really. the tension is stronger than when you told him you’re pregnant with his child. the fucking effects of the continued declaration of rivalry as you can calculate how far both of you are willing to push even for the past week and you can guess what you both will push more for the next 7 months.

“miss (l/n) (y/n)?” the door opened as the nurse spoke of your name making you jump up from your seat as heeseung followed behind you to enter the doctor’s room.

“(y/n)!” the young doctor said enthusiastically as you sat down on the chair in front of the desk.

“doctor park!” you answered, cadence matched hers.

“how have you- oh.” dr. park looks at the man entering behind you, looking between the three women in the room and the empty chair near the door before he hears her speak, “is this the dad?”

“yes, i’m the dad, lee heeseung,” he replied steadily as dr. park, who is standing up, shoots her hand out to him.

“i’m dr. park jihyo, (y/n)’s ob-gyn doctor. didn’t expect to meet you as (y/n) said that the dad might not be involved.”

heeseung’s eyebrows were raised, chortling as he realized what you implied, “after she told me, i decided to be involved.” his eyes peek from the side to see you giving a stare with no movements on your lips, sitting down on the chair beside of yours as you want to continue with your appointment.

“well, welcome to your tenth week of being pregnant. how are you feeling?” dr. park asks, looking at you with a warm smile as you see the nurse taking care of your document.

“the morning sickness kinda gets pretty worse and overflows out of the morning. definitely more sensitive towards scent, flavor, and texture. i also have already sensed growth on the bump since it is a bit more protruding than usual.” your hand unconsciously caresses the hoodie covered in your stomach, feeling the tenderness of the skin that is just muscles of your abdomen being pushed to cater to the baby.

“your stomach and intestines are being pushed by the uterus as the fetus grows and it’s very normal. since we already did the blood and urine test and went over your family history back in your first appointment, we can go to an ultrasound to check the growth of your baby.” dr. park replied as she nodded at the nurse who instantly walked to the bed and set things up for your scan.

“i’m sorry to bother you, doctor. but i have a question.”

your head shifts towards heeseung as he asks, the doctor just giving him a nod.

“(y/n) said to me she’ll get a plan b pill after our… time. yet, she still got pregnant, but isn’t that still supposed to work?” the way his voice pitches makes you hold on to a smile, recalling to when you asked the doctor the same question in your first appointment. you gave the doctor a big nod for her signal.

“well, (y/n) said to me she consumed a plan b pill less than 24 hours after your intercourse. but plan b pill, or levonorgestrel, works by delaying the release of the egg from the ovaries. she also said that her period, which started around a week or two weeks before she discovered she was positive, was late. so, we can assume that while you two have sex, (y/n) was already in her early stages of ovulation with the egg being released into the fallopian tube and the egg got fertilized.”

heeseung nods along with the doctor’s words as you remember the same explanation given to you in the previous meeting. you’ve tried using pills before but you know it will affect your hormone and physical health in the long run—you are not a serial fucker unlike a few people you recognize—so you rely on protection like condoms and morning-after pills right after that. heeseung not wearing one makes you want to laugh at how funny the scenario is and how you can just remain rivals for the rest of your life if you remind him to put on the rubber.

the nurse calls for as you follow her, stepping out of your shoes as you lay down on the bed. she gently brushes your hoodie up as your skin is exposed while she also pulls the band of your pants down below right above your underwear line. the chairs move as you glance at heeseung following dr. park as she takes the seat beside you to check on the machinery. the liquid is cold as it touches your skin as your eyes catch heeseung who is looking at the exposed stomach where his unborn child is.

as the transducer spread around the gel on the stomach when you feel it pressed down, you looked at the screen across from you hanging on the ceiling as the doctor moved around, marking the size of your uterus. you heard her gasp as you turned to look at her warm smile that widens into a grin.

“congratulations to you both!” she replied as she continued to move the transducer around, making you and heeseung realize that there’s a fetus inside you, but not just one.

“TWINS?!”

-

2. katana-like knife

heeseung gazes at the ultrasound he is holding with both hands, seeing the way the doctor has assigned twin 1 and twin 2 on the screen. the twins are in different sacs; he remembered what the doctor said, making them fraternal twins. she also says that not only you were ovulating when you two fuck, but you were releasing two different eggs around the same time and he got both of them pregnant.

he recalled both of you doing a hilarious staring contest as you couldn’t stop yourself from making funny faces as the doctor described the growth of your twins. fucking heck, he hadn’t told his friends that he was having twins. how his body trembles as the realization hits him while he’s looking at his babies—yes, plural—makes him even want to be more attentive, to now realize that he had two to take care of. and those two make him know you have to adjust your diet once again.

if it weren’t for him buying ingredients, he doesn’t think you would adapt easily to what the babies need. he’s won on this occasion. but what comes next?

his phone vibrates on the table as he takes a glimpse of the text message showing on the lit-up screen.

(l/n) (y/n): i’m heading home for the weekend. my parents will definitely see that i’ve been knocked up.

even he can see it as he had walked past you before on campus. you’re now wearing more oversized clothing pieces—t-shirts, hoodies, cardigans—as he realized the slight bump on the surface of them. it’s been over two weeks since that check-up appointment and the growth has been faster than he expected.

(l/n) (y/n): not asking you to join me.

(l/n) (y/n): if you aren’t brave enough to take the consequences, i’m fucking winning this :p

“that’s it” he shakes his head as he tugs the ultrasound picture into his wallet before putting it back in its place, hands opening the messages.

lee heeseung: threatening much. i’m in.

if you want to make this a competition, let’s make this a competition.

lee heeseung: hey mom. sorry for texting you randomly. but i’m going back home for the weekend.

all he had to do was wait, as he could hear the sound of his mom talking with your mom on the phone about how their children would be home together, asking to meet up.

and that moment goes exactly as he had expected as he drove the car with you in the passenger seat, leaning against the door as you both let the radio play boring-ass repeating pop songs from some random radio station. none of you seem to react, just to make each other annoyed enough to know who will concede and connect to bluetooth first—even not listening to good-ass music is a competition between you both.

you sighed extra loud as you listened to an old-ass pop song from the mid-2010s the radio seemed to have a lifetime contract for it to play for fucking ever. you wish you were the one driving now, but you didn’t bring your car for this semester because it needed maintenance and you were in a healthier mood for this year. you catch a look at your phone, seeing your mom asking where you are right now as auntie lee has arrived at your home—cooking up the food for all your family to enjoy.

“which one is your car’s bluetooth?” you gave up on hearing the radio station as you playfully checked every menu to find the bluetooth menu.

“the brand of the car, duh,” he answered, still focusing on the highway as you remembered that it’s nearly a few exits away from the side of the town you and he grew up in. he took a glance at the bluetooth speaker as he sees,

“‘mitski’s brainchild personified’? you liked her that much?” he actually snorted, making you see the name on your phone on the screen in the middle of the dashboard.

“shut the fuck up. she’s my comfort musician, just like kaede from slam dunk is your comfort character.” the way your fingers lightly tap against your phone, makes him chuckle as he can hear you holding onto your emotion from not spilling through your words, not commenting on how you mentioned his liking for slam dunk as if you remember it so well, even if it also stuns him.

you’re playing a playlist of yours that is just… instrumentals. a perfect playlist to hear whilst commuting as you let yourself take a breather from this world. eyes gazing to the window outside as you rested your phone on your lap. the scent of heeseung’s cologne accustomed your memories as you let the music speak while you both remained quiet. maybe, because it is an instrumental track that you both couldn’t comment on, that he can’t take a jab at your music taste unless you put on mitski or boygenius, that it gives a soundtrack so vague it resembles the way you perceived your relationship to each. sure, you still hate him for everything he has done to you in the name of winning. but, with two babies on the way, the concept of the rivalry between you both is there yet so blurry. which one is a concrete rivalry? which one is the softer one? why should you trust what he gave to you? why did he join in to take care of them?

the car zooms fast on the highway, yet you can see slower cars on the outside of the highway and faster cars zooming past you on the other lane. it’s like what your dad had said before—"you don’t feel how fast life is until you look at other people’s lives"—and to think that you will be home in overtly large clothing to hide your bump to know that he’s going to be a granddad just concretes the idea of that in your mind. you turn your head to glance at the backseat, seeing the shopping bag you had prepared besides what heeseung also has for his family, who he’ll meet at your house.

stepping out of the car, you stood at the carpool of your house filled with cars—other than yours and your parents inside the garage—when you watched your mom and heeseung’s mom walk out of the porch, barefooted, to greet you. the warmth of your mom’s hug felt so overwhelming that you had to sink your emotions as you blamed your hormones for making you too sensitive.

the interior of the house feels so lively from the last time you went home during the semester break. maybe it’s because of the way your mom has another guest in the form of the lee family and the smell of the delicious you know both of your moms had made together with their aprons still on as they guide you inside. even as they walked to the kitchen, you could hear them whisper.

“since when did (y/n) and heeseung arrive here together and in the same freaking car?” auntie lee asks.

“(y/n) didn’t bring her car this semester so i guess she doesn’t wanna waste any more money for transport.” mama answered.

both of your moms have always tried to make you close and you’ve always tried to tone down your rivalry in front of them, effortlessly acting in front of them as nice friends when you give him a snide look behind their backs any chance you can get. your bickering can escalate so much that you will have a shouting match in the arcade as heeseung doesn’t want to give up his time to play for you, making both of your moms force you to apologize to each other before that bickering returns at school’s classes where they’re not there for you two to mediate. maybe that’s why you don’t perceive heeseung as an enemy. merely a rival; because your mom never talked bad about heeseung no matter what happened between the two of you and it seems that heeseung’s mom has also done the same to him.

the two shopping bags sit on the coffee table as you watch both of your dads talking about dad stuff. heeseung’s attention is on his phone as he’s typing something on the screen while you unconsciously rub your stomach hidden beneath your top, waiting for all of them to settle down around the coffee table as they want to open the shopping bags together.

“what did you bring me?” mama asks in a sing-song manner as heeseung’s mom giggles beside her. you stood beside heeseung with your hands behind you as the husbands looked at the similar-looking gift boxes in each of their wives’ hands.

“don’t tell me. is it the jewelry i showed you those months ago, hee?”

“nah, it’s not. dad’s planning to buy that one for you.”

heeseung’s dad’s face turns into a scowl, seemingly angry as if his son has spoiled his plan while the boy just widens his smile before gazing back at his mom.

“well, together?” mama asked to his mom.

“yeah, 3, 2… 1!”

the box opens as you’re holding your breath, also holding back your smirk as you can view the way papa’s eyebrows crease as he can’t believe what he is saying. heeseung’s mom was the first one to openly express her shock by literally jumping from her seat and box thrown towards his dad’s as he took a good stare at it, making you glance at him you actually won the bidding on who would be shocked first between the two.

“NO, FUCK- WAIT?!” his mom stares between the two of you before your mom jumps from her space to also gaze at you, holding onto the paper. giving him a nudge with your elbow. you didn’t expect him to wrap his arm behind your shoulders.

“yeah… the babies are ours-“

“no fucking way!” your mom actually shouted as she hyperventilates while heeseung’s mom covers her mouth, contemplating on what to do when she felt her body being squished by her best friend, hugging her tight as they turn to hug each other while heeseung’s dad gives his box to your dad so he could see it clearly.

“since when are you two together?” papa asked as you tried to let heeseung’s grip from your shoulder.

“uncle, we aren’t together. we just hook up and-“

“WE’RE GOING TO BE IN-LAWS.” you can hear mama cheer as both of the women twirl around the small space, making you feel even more guilty for breaking the immersion as you stop budging away from heeseung’s hold. rolling your eyes, you stare at heeseung and lean in close to his ear, whispering.

“bad fucking idea…”

“at least they’re happy, right? well, i won because of that.”

mama interrupts both of you as she gives you both an enormous hug while heeseung’s mom comes from behind. you could see the tears coming out of mama’s eyes who rested her head against your shoulder.

“ughh, too tight.”

“stop it, honey! (y/n) looks so uncomfortable.” papa reminded.

“oops, sorry!” your mom lets go of her hold as heeseung’s mom slotted between the two of you as she pushes in on the excess fabric of your clothes, making you grip both sides of your top and pull it backward so she can see your bump already showing.

“hi, baby!”

“it’s babies.” heeseung’s dad cuts in as his wife follows with, “there’s two of them?”

“i swear to god.” heeseung’s old man brushes his face, unbelievable that his wife didn’t see the two sacs from the ultrasound as you give your mom a nod, her hands carefully holding onto your waist.

“fraternal twins,” you confirmed to her as you watched another batch of fresh tears coming out of her eyes.

“hello, you two. you’re going to have the best mom ever.”

“and dad too.” heeseung’s mom replied as she moved to stand in front of you two, seeing his grown son seemingly glowing as she spoke of him being the best dad to his two unborn children.

“okay. i gotta have to make the red meat well done then.” mama cuts out as she hastily moves to the kitchen to cook back her meat-based meal, letting auntie lee replace her place as she caresses the bump gently.

“how long has it been?” she asked as you opened your mouth to reply.

“we did the ultrasound two weeks ago. so it’s week 12 now.” heeseung cuts you off as she gazes back at her son.

“what have you two already prepared?”

“we gave a letter to the university for future parents and they agreed to let me take online classes entering 5 months because i only have three classes, one is that's doing a study case, and they let heeseung have parental leave if i give birth. i haven’t found the right doula yet but my supervisor at the daycare has a connection to one and i think it will be her. she has given me the number so i just have to text her,” you answered.

“is it near campus?” she replied.

“yeah, because i don’t want to graduate late. that’s why i decided to stay near campus during it.” you have thoughts on if you should just take a break this semester to focus on your pregnancy or not multiple times by now. but, of course, the rivalry comes back as you still want to keep pace with heeseung and your friends who will be graduating next semester.

“you should take a semester leave, (y/n).” heeseung cuts off your thought as you peek at him.

“i’ve already got what i wanted from the uni and it’s fine, heeseung. i can keep up.”

“well, you can, but what if you don’t take care of the babies?”

“of course, i can take care of the babies-“

“not by being stressed over college.”

“heeseung-“ you turn your body towards him as you grip both of his upper arms, firm hands holding him as you stare down at him. “i know what’s best for me. i know what my limits are. i’ve trusted you enough with the food but you should also trust me to know how to take care of myself outside of nutrition.”

your teeth are grinding against each other as your fiery gaze stays on him, even as you let go of the grip. it stays for a few more seconds as you turn back to head to the dads who seem to be forgotten by the sofa, seeing papa teary-eyed as he hugs and kisses your head before you let heeseung’s dad hug you.

his mom turns towards him, cupping his cheek. “she knows what she’s doing, heeseung.”

“but how should i know it’s right? cause that’s not right for me. my friend’s mom said that a pregnant woman should focus on preparing herself for her birth and doing college doesn’t seem to prepare her for that.” heeseung sighed as he looked at his mom, not expecting a slight hurt on her face.

“i was still doing my job when i was pregnant with you, heeseung. your dad trusted me for that cause he knows my limits, might be even more than i do. let her be and you might learn that she knows how to take care of herself, too.” her hand brushed away the fringe on his forehead, eyes glistening as she let out a small warm smile at him. the hurt falling away as heeseung sees her mom’s signature smile of knowing before she brought him in his arms, hugging him tight as he glances at you who is giving him a small look with a tight-lip smile before you turn away to the dining room.

-

heeseung stares at the glow-in-the-dark stars sticking on the ceiling. his back being stretched out on the floor as he laid on the comforter beside the single bed where you’re still playing with your phone. he remembered how he begged—trying to persuade—his parents to bring him home with them. but knowing that he’ll only be staying for one night and you two are “together”, they decide for him to stay with you instead. you can see how his fuming breath was held as you glanced at him with an unidentifiable look at the dining table, his parents believing you would let him stay in your bed.

but he insists on lying down on the floor, knowing the history between the two of you they don’t know, as you silently agree.

printed pictures still hang on one side of the room when he looks at them as long as the bedside lamp is still on. he remains silent, eyes tired from looking at his phone so much to distract him from his reality when he hears the rummaging movement on the mattress as you put the phone on the table.

“well, night, heeseung.” the click of the lamp is big in the white-noised room as darkness envelops the space, letting in the moon and streetlights outside beam their shine inside. your eyes easily adjust to the surroundings as you puff your one-less pillows on the bed to find the right position—knowing the ache of sleeping in the wrong position when you are carrying two fetuses inside you.

“since when did you work in a daycare?”

the man’s words overcome your action as you brush the cover of the pillow.

“why do you wanna know?” you put the pillows in the right position as you lay your head and back against it.

“since your mom proclaimed that you’ll be the mom ever.”

heeseung is reminded of the way you look when your mom says that, a look of pride coming out of your eyes as you unconsciously nod knowingly. even if you and him are close by proximity—by being your moms’ children, by being schoolmates, by having roommates who stay in proximity with each other—there’s still something that you don’t know about each other. because if the opposites know, they can use it as leverage to bring any of the two down.

“had a few babysitting gigs during high school days. i started to like it more and decided when i go to hybe, i’ve volunteered for a non-formal school for children and more. i decided to do a part-time job at a daycare and yeah…” you replied, laying down by your side as if you could see heeseung beside you when he is, in fact, below you.

“it doesn’t match with your major though.” heeseung gives a snide comment as you sigh loudly.

“so what if a business major can’t connect with my passion for childcare- fuck me.” you stopped to remind yourself to stop taking the bait from heeseung because you know he was making these comments to break your confidence within yourself. you could discuss how making and taking care of a business could resemble making and taking care of a child, but with the way he had pissed you off today in more ways than one, you rather stick that thought to yourself and instead, take offense towards him.

“why did you wrap your arm around my shoulders?”

heeseung glances towards the bed, seeing your silhouette on the top forming a dark shadow because of your comforter shielding it.

“i had to. so they know the babies are ours,” he replied with the thought that first came to mind after he already had his arm behind you—blaming his underlying consciousness for doing that.

“and it makes them believe we’re together when we’re not. look at us now.” both of your arms stretch out of the comforter to tell him just how big the situation you got yourself into cause how many white lies must you tell your parents to hide that this is because of a hookup, not because you are romantically linked?

your staggered giggles drop as you try to glance downwards at him, the arm nearest to the floor left hanging as heeseung didn’t comment on what you said. “well, this just got more complicated.”

“our situation is complicated since the start, (y/n).”

“well, i know who to blame for making our strings get more tangled with our parents cause fuck you, heeseung.”

he saw the lone middle finger standing tall from the silhouette of your figure before you picked yourself up and lay all your weight on the bed, turning the other side as heeseung followed; both of you staring at the opposites of the room, knowing that your bodies needed to rest so you can face each other again in the morning.

the time between that night and how you both lived after you went back to your own places near campus was a week when you texted him about the doula that you had told at your parent’s home. the car was left in neutral with the handbrake lifted as heeseung waited at the daycare where you work. his eyes gaze at the differing modes of transport each guardian is picking up the kids with before looking at the lobby as he sees you and another attendant saying goodbyes to the kids. he watches as a few of them hug you and even a few let their cheek rested against your growing bump before you take a glance forward at them who is going back to be with their parents, noticing his car for a few seconds before you return inside to take your items.

the backpack is hanging off your shoulders as you take another sliced fried potato from the container when you enter the passenger’s seat beside his driver’s one, resting your back against the seat with your bag there to support you. “hello! i’ve sent you the address, right?”

he stares at you with his squinting eyes, “you should not eat that.”

“it’s cravings, heeseung. it’s totally normal. the doula can count me on that.” you chew another fry as heeseung lets out a mumble under his breath as he moves the handbrake and puts the gear to drive, reeling the car forward as he drives you to the doula’s office. both of your moms have suggested several doulas for you to choose from, but you reminded them you’re having twins. so having a doula who specializes in taking care of moms birthing multiples will be helpful as it is also your first time.

playfully, you fly a french fry like an airplane towards heeseung as he drives, like the usual time you try to feed kids at the daycare. it nudges against his lips a few times before he bit it, pulling it off your fingers; making you let out a chuckle cause he can’t even resist it himself.

the parking lot was pretty barren as you only saw a few vehicles when you both walked out of the cars. you adjust the backpack once again on your back as the chime from the car tells you it is now locked as you enter the office building.

thanking the receptionist, you and he stood in front of the doula’s office as you knocked the door.

the door opens as a soft-spoken woman says from the inside, “miss (l/n)(y/n)?”

“yes, i am.”

“oh, come in. come in.” the door widened as heeseung could see the things inside the large office room. a desk in one corner and a cabinet stood behind it. accolades and certifications by the desk with a sofa on the corner beside the door. a box of what seems to be baby toys beside the sofa as posters are hanging on the wall. from the anatomical look of a baby inside their mom’s uterus to words of encouragement towards mothers.

“i’m haseul. nice to meet you.” the woman shook your hand as she then glanced at heeseung who was still wandering around.

“oh, uh, this is heeseung, the babies’ daddy.” you refer to his name as he looks at the lady, shaking her hand as she looks between the two of you.

“so, both of you aren’t married or dating-“

“no, we’re childhood friends and hooked up, and this happened.” heeseung blurts out as you raised your eyebrows, poking your tongue in the cheek. haseul nodded her head as she let both of you sit down in front of the desk.

“first, congratulations on the twins. you must be nervous to find that out.”

“of course, especially as a first-time mom. but, i’m feeling pretty okay.”

“that’s good, i’ve also sent you the questionnaire for you to fill on your plan for giving birth…” haseul’s voice traces out as heeseung glances at the portrait frame of her holding onto a baby with a mom, a glance at the book about post-partum, and a baby doll on top of the cabinet right in front of a corner window. he could only catch onto some words he recognized from jeongin telling him—birth, dilation, cramps, anesthesia, cesarean—as he sensed himself getting overwhelmed, especially when he had the second preliminary match in two days and his gig in being the documentation for a baseball match for hybe uni too.

his thumbs caressed his fingertips as he sensed the sweat forming on his palm, the same feeling he has every time he has to go to match. to then realize just how ready you seem by how eloquently you say the words for your requests to the doula like you’ve grown up much more than he is even though both of you are the same age. sure, he felt the leverage the first time when he sent you food and a few tips he makes beomgyu do; but his knowledge couldn’t compete with yours and it scares him to know he is losing his stance from above you. to know that you’re much more ready than him.

“heeseung…” he heard someone calling for him, before something wrapped around his wrist, taken aback to see you brought him back to the room he was in.

“sorry… what did you say?” heeseung replied as haseul gave him a warm smile.

“i’ve heard from (y/n) that you have known some knowledge of pregnancies but i could give you some sources to read because it is your first time as a dad as well.” the woman said to him calmly, looking at heeseung as if she can read his body language. your hold on his wrist stays as you rub the inside of his wrist with your thumb. “we have also discussed that (y/n) will try the normal route with water birth and if she can’t handle it, she’ll be going with cesarean. we could also do an appointment every two weeks as both of you are students now, but it is best if you come so you can understand each process as she is entering the second trimester.”

“i understand. i’ll try my best to set my schedule so i can join her.” heeseung glanced at you, who was giving a nod before you let go of your hold as he seemed to be anchored back in the room. the woman gives a small smile as she starts a lecture on the process of pregnancy, childhood, and parenthood. another class that heeseung doesn’t want to get in the first place, but knowing his determination to be the best dad ever—as what his mom believes him to be—he follows along with writing notes in his book as you have with your laptop. the class that he has to pass so he can take care of his children as best as he can.

-

even with the music booming from around his space, heeseung still felt like something was different. his eyes rested on the plastic-colored cup filled with a concoction of alcohol he didn’t know—he could taste the gin and what seemed to be fanta in it. the sigma mu’s frat house lits up in motion as he eyes the way the expensive big-ass speakers are scattered around the room, gazing at the familiar faces of his peers and juniors he has seen while walking around campus.

something stirs within him as he eyes his friends who are here—beomgyu who is by the speaker as he talks with the dj, jimin with his dance crew friends, jeongin with his class friend, while heeseung sits with sunoo and sunghoon on either side of him. that’s when he caught onto the silhouette of some familiar faces every time he comes across a certain person; every time he comes across you.

“excuse me, gang.” heeseung would like to thank himself for being able to stand up so stable even with the nearly empty cup, excusing himself from his basketball teammates to walk towards the frat boys of sigma mu to find the vp and his girlfriend by his side.

“winter…” he calls with the nickname he heard you and others call her before as said girl turns towards him with her boyfriend’s arm still behind the sofa.

“lee heeseung.” she spoke out with a grin on her face, “what makes you come in front of us?”

“i was wondering,” ‘fuck it’ heeseung drinks up the whole liquid that remains inside the cup, hoping that his alcohol tolerance still be able to support him to be stable, “has (y/n) ever talked to you about a doula check-up or some other thing?”

“she should’ve told me if there’s gonna be a checkup but i don’t think there is one nearest from now.” minjeong replies as she lets sungchan take care of her drink so she can comfortably talk to the boy in front of them.

“ah, really?”

“yeah!” minjeong replied before giving another smile. that’s when someone crashes to wrap their arms around minjeong and sungchan, making the two jump as they turn to see ryujin’s head between both of them before giving minjeong a peck on the temple.

“hey, (y/n)’s baby daddy. whatchu up to?”

heeseung chuckles as he looks between the two girls—”no wonder you have them as your friends, all of them are similar after all”—before he opens his mouth.

“just checking what’s (y/n) up to-“

“well, she’s not here. for your information.” ryujin lets out a smirk, “you must really wanna talk to her about something.”

“a doula appointment.” sungchan replied, “and you know how (y/n) is about…” the boy glances at, “him.”

heeseung’s teeth grit against each other as he senses they are hiding something from him. maybe because of your doing so you can prove to everyone that he isn’t as committed to his children as he spoke about.

“you and minjeong aren’t home, so i presume (y/n) is with chaer-“

“someone’s calling my name?”

heeseung sighs as he turns towards the voice of chaeryeong who is holding two cups of drinks as she gives one to ryujin.

“he’s asking about (y/n).” minjeong nods toward chaeryeong when she lets out a small ah before turning her head to stare at heeseung.

“since chan here invited all four of us at the frat party, she really wanted to be here but, of course, cause she’s preggo with YOUR children, she couldn’t. but all of us went out of the apartment together and she was holding a duffle bag of some sort.”

“where is she going?” heeseung doesn’t hesitate to ask, making your three friends look at each other and giggle.

“you seem desperate enough. she’s at the park near our apartment complex. she complained about needing a light workout because of how much her back is hurting.” ryujin said as heeseung could picture the park, knowing where you lived because he had picked you up for your trip back home for the weekend.

“okay, thanks all of you.” heeseung places the cup on the table beside the sofa where minjeong sits and turns away, letting the sense of fresh air flowing inside the frat house guide him to the nearest exit as he arrived on the pavement, feeling the stuffiness inside him getting lighter as he gave a text in his group chat he’ll be leaving early.

the walk there was pleasant, to say the least, because the suburban town the campus is in is pretty sparse compared to the city where heeseung and you live. there is enough place for it to be called a big town but not enough skyscrapers to be called a metropolis. and with the inconsiderable amount of apartment complexes available near campus, he already pinpointed the park where you might be.

crossing the black-and-white stripes, he arrived at one of the entrances of the park where he still could see a few people doing their activities inside—night jogging, playing chess under the streetlights, and a couple who was on a date. he was reminded of what ryujin said about how you might need exercise, but the duffle bag says to him you might stay in one place rather than walking around the park as the main event of your exercise time.

heeseung’s feet instantly brought him to the place that he had gone before in this park as it is the same park near where sunghoon, jay, and jake live—maybe they live in the same complex as you do—when he finds the silhouette lightly jog behind the trees from the path he is on. the sound of rubber meeting the concrete slaps across the night’s atmosphere as he sees you in the middle of the basketball court, wearing a sweatshirt where he could see the bump pushing against the fabric. the basketball bouncing between your palm and the ground creates the familiar sound as you jog toward the ring and shoot your shot. the ball hits the backboard enough that it bounces into the basket.

“fuck yes…” you exclaimed as you grabbed the bouncing ball into your hand, heaving as you brushed the sweat of your skin right underneath the spotlight shining on the court.

that’s when you pick up the scraping on the concrete and clap when you turn around to look at the last person you want to see tonight.

“you still got it,” heeseung commented, making you scoff as you took a few steps back so you stood adjacent to the free throw circle. holding up the basketball between your hands as you tried to remember the position before pushing towards the ring. the basketball curves as it hits the edge of the box instead.

“dammit!”

“you spun your ball,” heeseung replies as the ball flies into his arm, naturally guiding it into a dribble as he walks towards you.

“i didn’t.”

“your wrist was twisted and it makes your hand doesn’t flop straight towards the ring.” he walks towards your side as he shows you the way to hold it, making you glance at the arm muscles that form from holding the ball so much as he throws the ball, creating a perfect arch that it bounces on the back of the rim before it flies and the basket catches its fall. your body immediately reaches for it before heeseung can as you return to your spot whilst dribbling alternating between left and right.

“i know.” you lightly roll your eyes as you grab onto the basketball once again, wiping your sweat palm against your sweatshirt before you feel the right grip as you return to your position, reminding yourself to let the ball fly and not twist your ball before you threw it.

you heard a click of the tongue as you saw a pair of hands reaching to hold yours, making your hand move to the position as you picked up heeseung’s breath beside your ear. startled, your shoulder nudges against his chest as you hear a small “ack” before you throw the basketball, seeing it twirl in the air. you can hear heeseung saying “i told you so.” before it bounces against the backboard, but you are ready as you stride towards it to grab the ball before heeseung catches it and you quickly do a layup, gliding the ball as it bounces right at the small box above the rim as it bounces inside. you turn your body to face him, head tilted with a smug smile as the ball bounces before it rolls to heeseung’s feet.

but the smile falls as you see heeseung who is in his element, walking back to the three-point line and shooting his shot as the ball, once again, creates a perfect arc. the basket catches it into its net as heeseung walks towards the center of the court with a wide grin on his face. the ball bounces near you as you hold it and dribble once more, glancing at it, the court, and heeseung once again as you shake your head, scolding yourself to take things slow for your and your babies’ sake. the sudden epiphany makes your eyelids flutter as you dribble away at a steady walking pace around the court.

your footsteps are met with another as heeseung’s legs stride towards you, a smirk on his face showing as he replies, “that’s why you were put in the point guard position.”

“hmm…” your reply is small as you continue to dribble away the basketball, making you and he walk around the court together before he cuts through the silence.

“why did you stop playing basketball in high school?”

your body stood still as you let your muscle memory do your job of dribbling the ball, shifting your head towards his even if you look away.

“you were, well, it seems to be still are, good at it,” he added.

the memories of your first year in high school from the extracurricular showcase come back as you are already determined to stop playing basketball, focusing on doing something else that you were interested in.

“i got tired of it,” you replied, but heeseung seemed to notice that it was not all the truth.

“and…”

the ball stops bouncing as you hold it against you, wrapping your arm across your front along with the ball as you glare at him and reply, “you.”

“me?”

“yeah, you. i stopped playing because of you.” you turn around and set your eyes on the bench where your bag is. your water bottle calling for you so you can hydrate yourself as you give in.

“really, huh? wow, that was another victory i didn’t expect-“

“fucking hell, heeseung. that’s why- this-“ you gulped down your saliva, “what you become because of it is why i stop. i know our moms are outstanding basketball players at their time and we’ve gotten the signal to be like them but-“ you hold back as you throw the bottle inside the bag, holding yourself down as your hands form fists.

basketball has always been a large part of your life before you were even born. your mom and heeseung’s met because of their love of basketball as they became skilled players together. your mom and dad meet up because of basketball. you still remember the amount of pictures of your parents in their high school days in their basketball jerseys in the photo albums. even if they don’t pursue it professionally, it still becomes a large part of their life as it also spills onto you.

with the amount of time you have interacted with children—as it makes you see your own experience as a child in a different view—many of them like to mimic what their parents do before they form their own sense of self. you can see it with the way one child at the daycare is always playing doctor with dolls, figures, and plushies because one of their parents is a doctor. you were like that. you’ve heard and seen just how impactful basketball is to your mom that you want to be just like her, making you join the teams during your elementary and middle schools.

to see and feel the influence of your rival during practice and tournaments around you was overwhelming.

the tug-of-war between the basketball in between both of your hands is just the beginning of what kinds of rivalry you and him have during practice. even if your coaches assigned you to the same team, you or he, depending on who is first, will reach out to the coach to be put into the other team. even if you two had to practice together, hidden aggression is flying to the roof, which includes passing the ball so hard that it had even made your nose bleed. as time goes on and the many matches you and he have to compete in as you two have to watch each other to “encourage” each other’s team, you had notice the way you fell out of love of basketball because of how there are more bad memories associated with it even if you were being trusted as a captain for one season and scoring many buzzer beaters to let your team and school win the tournament.

“you’ve become so much better with it as i lost interest. i still remember when the coach brought me to the nurse’s office cause you passed the ball so hard that it hit my face. in the middle of practice for the last season in middle school, that’s when i knew…” you take steps closer as you now stand in front of him.

“i knew i’m in a losing battle against you.”

your muscles twitched as you wanted to let out a smirk when you noticed the hidden expression heeseung failed to hide, the little shock he had gotten to show. yet, the emotion that is enveloping you held it down, as you now had to tell him the truth. why your rivalry seemed to expand outside of the scope that both of you are in.

“that’s why i quit basketball. that’s why i decide to pursue my own path even with you tailing behind me to comment on my every move. because i am sick of you. yet, i held back. i had to retaliate, just like what i did on that fucking playground when we were 5. cause i’m not afraid of you even though i know i’ll lost in the end.” you chew the inside of your cheeks as heeseung seems to read your face while letting his brain figure out what you meant.

“that’s why i wanted a fucking truce.”

with the way your facial muscles contort, it hurts you more and more as you feel the tears of pain forming, harboring the feelings you have felt for nearly two decades now. with your hand raised, you wiped the small drop of tear as you let out a huge breath, feeling just a bit of the weight in your rivalry falls off—right along with you.

as you let your body sit on the concrete ground, you push yourself back slowly as you settle and lay on it. heeseung’s conflicted face peeking from your vision while you’re trying to blur it out by focusing on the night sky. though the light pollution is still around you, you can still see tiny specks of stars behind the shadow of clouds of the night. stretching your back on the ground as you let your backbone rest after trying to make you stand upright while carrying two growing fetuses.

eyelids close, you let nature take control in calming your emotions and let heeseung process the information himself. the first time you truly open up yourself behind the mask of your persona—maybe when he stays the night in your childhood room is one as you recall your feet resting against his sleeping figure, contemplating if you want to wake him up or not before gazing at the dusting basketball that you decide to bring back to your apartment after papa helps in blowing more air so it doesn’t sag too much.

the sound of rustling leaves seems to be louder as you rest still, hearing a muffled thump beside you as you open your eyes, looking at your feet to then find another pair lying down right beside yours.

“you’re the one that was throwing a fit and ruining my toy truck after i apologized.” you sighed as you took a peek to see heeseung’s head turning towards you, asserting dominance once again before looking back. you knew that if you replied with the same vibe to assert your own dominance, it would actually break you apart faster than the rate that you are now. however, you have one question that will be the right one to ask him about.

“did you mean that?”

“‘mean’ what?”

“the apology? did you mean that? cause i want you to look at it from my eyes, lee.”

heeseung traces back to that memory when he sees you teary-eyed face and his mom beside him, the boys he was playing with snickering on the side as they saw him getting in trouble with his then-friend. the “sorry” mumbled out of him with his eyes on you but mind on the boys, who seemed to not snicker at him, but at you for being a pissy fit. but, deep down, he knew…

“i meant it.” his reply makes you turn your head, mirroring his form as you let out a slight pout.

“with that smile you were giving? hell no-“ you rolled your eyes.

“i genuinely meant it. the boys that were there, they were behind you and they were laughing at us. i had to juggle facing you and them. i had to look fierce yet still can give you an apology. maybe that’s why you see the smirk that you see. i was a fucking child, (y/n). we’re not as good as we are not in hiding complicated emotions to only let out one.”

your chest rises and falls as you see the apology smirk in a different light. you don’t know if you should easily believe that or not, but after taking it into consideration, you could feel a small part of your inner child healing up before you realize the damage that you also have done to him.

“if it is genuine; i’m sorry, then. about the truck. you know how i felt now and why i did that.” you return to look at the sky once again as you hear the rustle beside you before peeking at heeseung who is also staring into the night, listening to him humming before you return to gaze back again.

“what would happen if i actually have the emotional intelligence to know that you were sincere that day?” your words cut off the silence as you felt the guilt pouring for it to be transformed into humor that was reciprocated well by heeseung’s chuckles.

“well, we wouldn’t have these two.” he playfully poked your belly, making you let out a small shriek before holding onto his wrist as you held his hand down between the two of you and you pivoted your head to see him.

“in all seriousness, i think we might have been the friends our moms see us to be because let me tell you, they see us differently than what we are having.” his words are replied with a hum as you added,

“i notice that too. glad we can be more civil in front of them.”

“we still could, you know.”

with the way you didn’t hold on to his wrist tightly, you felt the limb moving under your touch before his palm rested underneath your own. the wind blows against your sweaty top as it gives you shivers from the cold, hoping that your own temperature and a lifeline can help warm it up. and you can feel it warmer as you see heeseung pivot to mirror you. his fingers slid between yours as if he knew the little shivered breath you led out.

“have each other’s backs. emulate what they want.”

your eyes are galloping to the way the spotlight shines half of his as the other one is cast in shadows from facing the concrete. you could smell a faint scent of alcohol on him but with the life in his eyes, you knew he wasn’t drunk. the way his eyes are also peering with slight twitches as before connecting with your gaze.

pushing one side of your upper body, you cup onto heeseung’s cheek as he leans up to connect your lips. your shoulder is pushing down against the ground as heeseung’s grip on your hand tightens, making it steady as you can hear his muffled hum from your kiss. your fingers curl to hold yourself up better before you feel his other hand reach for your waist and push you down so you both lay on the side.

both of you take turns to take a breath as you sense the tip of his nose brushing against yours. every time you let out a breath, the other’s lips linger before connecting once. your legs curled as you felt the ticklish sensation surging through your nerves before heeseung pushed your lower back so it could stay for one last long kiss before he pulled away. your noses touch each other as you feel his hand on your waist trails to your bump, pressing it down gently as you lean back to see him looking down at the body he is holding. then, his eyes flick back to you as he can sense you slip away, turning yourself away from him as you push yourself up with your arms.

grabbing the lone basketball and putting it in the duffle bag, you zip it up and shift to find heeseung now upright, yet still with his legs stretched out on the ground.

“baby steps, heeseung.” you pull away before giving a small salute.

“baby steps.”

your voice echoes as heeseung watches you walk away, biting his bottom lip before a chuckle falls out of him as he knows he had to text you back his question about the appointment, knowing that you will reply to him.

-

beomgyu breathed out as the elevator opened up to the now familiar hallway, holding onto the box that he had still had to bring even if heeseung already told him he’ll do the next one himself because of what he told him. the box held fresh ingredients that jeongin also pinpoint—courtesy of his doctor mom—on what you should eat, considering now that there are two of them inside you. beomgyu couldn’t help but feel melancholic knowing that this was the last time he’d probably visit your apartment complex as… well…

but, other than bringing you today’s box, beomgyu is here to pick you up for the doula appointment as heeseung will follow suit after practice. even his bandmates are weirded out as to why he has to do the errands, but knowing that they’re in the process of rest mode whilst preparing to create new music and focusing on academics, he allows it, especially with how long he has been best friends with the guy.

he huffs as he positions the box again against his upper body, sliding his pointer finger to the bell as he picks up the familiar bell sounding in the room. but it seems like there’s no one inside. he’s glad that he remembers the pin ryujin has given him as he pushes inside the door to see the clean empty living room of the apartment he has been in countless times when he had to put the box in himself. pushing off his shoes, he walks to the kitchen and places the box on the island counter before rushing towards the intercom to turn off the bell.

that’s when he heard the noise of something familiar.

a guitar strumming sound of chords and the changes he recognized.

beomgyu took tiny steps towards one of the ajar doors in the hallway as the realization of the familiar sound widened his eyes. of course it was familiar to him, it was his song.

the nearly acoustic rendition of “skipping stones” with a familiar voice he had heard makes him peek through the door to find you sitting cross-legged on your bed, holding a nearly all-white guitar as you strum while having headphones on your head, singing the daylights out as your window lets the stream of lights in through the window. he lets you sing as he can see you glow—jeongin had mentioned to him that pregnant women have this whole glow on them. maybe that’s what he was seeing in you. the way your fingers glide against the fretboard with your eyes on it or close as you sing the lyrics makes beomgyu mesmerized.

the last ring of strings strummed is heard from your rumble speaker when you notice clapping from outside of your headphones, making you look up to find beomgyu behind your slightly open door. his clapping turns to hollering as lets out a wide thin smile before looking away; you don’t want him to see you flustered. that is when you realize why you’re here.

“oh fuck, the doula appointment.”

“yeah!” beomgyu replies outside as you quickly tidy the guitar up into your case and you step into your wardrobe to grab some more clothes that are much more appropriate for your appointment.

“sorry, about that. beom.”

“nah, no worries. i can wait.”

“thanks!” you close the door as you quickly change your clothes, deciding for a flowy blouse with a rubber-banded culotte, needing to remind yourself to buy maternity clothes because you are slowly running out of clothes that fit you. you wore a bit of sunscreen as you got a message from mama telling you to embrace the pregnancy glow your friends seemed to notice is exuding out of you as you’re in the second trimester. wearing the eau du toilette that doesn’t make you as dizzy—unlike perfume—you open the door to see beomgyu leaning against the wall where it hangs a frame of you and your roommates in photo booths.

“you ready?” he held his hand out as you nodded, you put your hands out before beomgyu grabbed the strap of the bag from your hold, startling you before you returned to your usual state. if your face isn’t warm enough, it’s now warmer from the embarrassment.

the walk down to his car is silent as he helps with buckling the seatbelt to the side. seeing how much your stomach is rested underneath the strap makes him giggle as you recognize the smell of pot from beomgyu’s very appropriate old sedan car.

“hopefully you aren’t high while driving me.” you give a cheeky grin.

“of course not. heeseung will actually kill me if he finds that i dui with you.”

beomgyu twists the key of the ignition as the car turns on—yes, that’s how old his car is—as the sound of a loud rock song plays from the rock fm you recognized. his hand reaches for the button as you react,

“no need. i’m okay with it.”

he hums as he reaches for the volume to turn the sound down, not letting the rattling of the sound in the interior startle you as he pulls the car out of the parking space and into the road.

“can you check the quickest route to the office?” beomgyu said as he brushed his wolf-cut hair.

“of course.” you lean back against the leather seat as you open the map app on your phone, telling beomgyu the roads to the doula’s office. the song has changed to a familiar song by tom petty playing as you notice how beomgyu glances at you.

“what?” you called out with a few chuckles.

“i didn’t expect you to like my song, well txt’s song.” his reply is met with your own giggle as you lean back.

“even if i hate heeseung. that doesn’t mean i have to hate his friends, you know?”

your eyebrow is raised as he gives another quick look before focusing on the road, “if you don’t believe me, i’ve been a fan of band your band since, like, sophomore year when you formed.”

“why? i really wanna hear from a fan's perspective.”

your giggle warms his heart as you answered, “i just relate to it, ya hear? a band that talks about the hardships of finding oneself and the struggle of growing but in a more intelligible way other, especially ‘skipping stones’ from your newest album.”

both of beomgyu’s hands are on the steering wheel as you feel the brake of the car before turning to the curb of where the office is, parking nearest to the entrance as the car stops and he pulls the hand brake. both of you sitting inside as you waited for heeseung to arrive in a few minutes from the last time he texted you.

“why ‘skipping stones’ specifically?”

“hmm…” you suppressed the grin that is threatening to go out before replying with, “interpreting self-struggle with the idea of skipping stone is… in it of itself, very poignant. to correlate the body of water with your own and the stones you’re throwing as the struggle you’re facing.” you let out a huge sigh, “i don’t know- it’s something i understand, especially if someone else is doing the skipping stone to you, feeling that emotion sinking into you, replacing the water’s place…”

you glanced at beomgyu who was definitely staring at you, his hands on his lap as he let out a solemn smile, agreeing with what you said. you quietly nod and take a sharp intake, trying to find the right words to cut the rising awkwardness between the two of you, “other than that, the freaking dissonance on the harmony is so good. it gives a sense of unbalanced buoyancy as if you’re a leaf floating on the water and the skipping stone makes it unstable. great job on that.”

“thanks!”

“of course.” you nearly slapped yourself for leaning closer to the middle console, but beomgyu seemed to not react as much when you felt a bit of your finger touching his. “can’t wait for the next release. no pressure.”

the corner of beomgyu’s lips rose as he giggled, a boyish grin on his face before his expression changed, “don’t worry, me and the band won’t let the fans down.” he replied as you leaned back, head nodding. that’s when you hear the rumbling of the car right beside yours as you see the appearance of heeseung’s newer model car.

“gotta go. thank you so much for bringing me here,” you said as beomgyu helped pick your bag up from the backseat.

“of course, (y/n). gotta have to thank heeseung for letting me do so, but hey…” you felt his hand reaching and now touching your wrist, making you turn your body while nearly opening the door.

“i've known you since high school but we never hang out together cause of heeseung. maybe we could hang out, with your girls and my guys? if heeseung is already melting his ice down then i think that’s okay for us and our friends to hang out. it’s up to you, though.”

you suppress an amused smile as you think about it. thinking about how long have you been crushing on the boy in front of you and how you wanna shake heeseung a thank you for letting him do the errands, maybe even to your noise-canceling headphones that make him notice just how much you like him- no, his band. yeah.

“i’ll think about it. heeseung and i don’t have a formal truce yet but based on what we talked about last time, maybe it could work.”

“sweet-“

you heard a knocking on the door before you turned around to catch heeseung’s silhouette behind the glass window.

“i’ll talk to the girls so we can arrange a time.”

“me too with the guys.”

“okay, bye beomgyu.” the car door unlocks as you nuzzle the door open while hearing beomgyu’s own “bye” from the driver’s seat. heeseung helps to hold the door as you step out.

“thanks for her ride, gyu.”

“don’t mention it, hee. we might even have to ride with her often.” beomgyu said right as the door that heeseung held closed. the engine turns on as the car drives off the parking. you stand right beside heeseung as he looks at you, who still has a lingering smile on your face.

“why are you smiling, (y/n)?”

he lightly nudges your palm with his as you turn your head to him.

“you’ll see, hee.” as you took off towards the office, leaving heeseung once again alone as he then followed you.

part 2

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