#stumbling their way through parenthood

[lordgrimwing]

Friends and Family #03

“This is nice,” Maglor said, stretched out on a beach towel, as his dripping brother settled next to him, wet from running in the gentle waves with his adopted sons. He closed the novel he'd picked up at a second-hand store the day before.

Maedhros grunted, his mouth occupied by several bobby pins as he fixed his hair, recoiling the soaking braid atop his head. The whole point of pinning his hair up so tightly was to keep it out of the salt water, but he hadn’t expected Elros and Elrond to grab his hands and drag him down into a particularly large wave. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen them this happy,” Maglor continued, nodding to the boys splashing and paddling in the waves, their nearly shoulder-length hair hanging in loose, soaked clumps.

“They love it,” Maedhros said with a soft smile. He’d come up from that wave spitting sand and might have been irritated except he ended up with two armfuls of very excited peredhil. By the time he left the surf, he’d become much better at diving through waves. 

They sat in silence for a minute, taking in the scene: seagulls cried overhead, keeping a sharp eye out for abandoned snacks; the twins played along the shore, a younger elf child coming over to join them; other families staked out their claim across the sand, leaving towels and umbrellas to mark their favored spots. The beach was both busy and soothing.

“We should do this more.” Maedhros decided, rinsing his mouth out with water from a bottle and then taking several drinks.

Maglor raised his eyebrows. Fëanor nearly had a fit when they announced that they’d be taking a few days off work during the week so they could do something with the boys during their school holiday. “Who’s going to tell father?” 

His brother rolled his eyes in a way that would have had Fëanor pinching his ear if he were an elfling again. “He can take his doctor's advice and take up birdwatching,” He said dismissively.

As the eldest sons, they were privy to more details of their father's health than he appreciated.

Maglor snorted at the suggestion. 

More seriously, Maedhros said, “Maybe just an occasional weekend, then.”

They watched the boys and their new friend join a group of older dwarves building an impressive sandcastle. Maglor smiled. “We really should.”

The sun arched across the clear blue sky. Maglor called Elros and Elrond back for lunch. They ate cold tuna salad sandwiches from the cooler on a blanket Maedhros spread on the sand so they could all sit together. Elros showed the adults the blue shell Elrond found in the tide, proudly telling them about the cool shells they found over the years on the coast further south. The younger twin hesitantly asked if he could make necklaces for them all from pieces of the shell when they went back to the city. 

After lunch, the twins wanted to go back into the ocean.

“Not right after eating,” Maglor shook his head. “Wait thirty minutes.”

Elros looked like he might want to argue, but his brother grabbed his hand and demanded that he bury him under the sand so he could pretend to be a baby sea turtle.

Maedhros took off his shirt, arching his back and enjoying the warm sun on it. Their father really might have an aneurysm if he found out exactly how publicly immodest his sons got when he wasn’t there to frown at them for rolling up their pant legs. He repacked the cooler and sprawled out on the towel, stretching his long arms and legs and bumping into the other occupant. He grinned at his brother. “Join us this time,” He invited. 

Maglor picked up his book and fingered the pages. “I'll get sand in my hair,” He said. He's done his hair up in a dark half bun, leaving a loose tail down his back.

“I'll braid it for you.” He said. “The rest of us need to wash tonight already.”

“Promise not to push me under?” 

“I would never,” Maedhros laughed, recalling when, decades ago, they were teaching their younger brothers how to sail on a windy lake. Caranthir insisted that the flimsy life jackets couldn't possibly keep them safe in the waves, refusing to set foot on the light boat. When it became clear that he wouldn't trust the words of his brothers, Maedhros shoved Maglor off the edge, leaving him to flounder in the water until their three younger brothers boarded.

Maglor shuffled around so he faced away from Maedhros. “Go ahead and braid.”

The tall redhead sat up. He quickly undid the bun and set about dividing the other’s hair into four parts at the crown of his head.

They sat quietly while he worked, Maglor watching the other families.

A human woman with frizzled brown hair caught a child who looked about seven years old by the elbow. She wore a striped green and gray swimsuit with a white over-shirt and large sunglasses.  

“Oh no you don’t, Elianor,” She admonished, pulling the girl back to the family’s towels and bins of beach toys. “You’re going to be red as a beat and peeling in the car tomorrow if you don’t put more sunscreen on.” 

“Mom,” The girl complained as white ointment was slathered across her bare back and under the edges of her swimsuit. 

“Do your face and ears,” The woman directed, squeezing more of the sunscreen out of a yellow bottle for her daughter before bending down to coat her legs.

Once everything was worked in and the white layer was exchanged for a slightly oily sheen, the child was released into the water. Once all the children were appropriately protected and freed, the woman popped open a beach chair and settled under an umbrella. 

She looked over at Maglor as Maedhros began pinning the braid up like his own. “Some children never learn,” She said by way of explanation.

He said something in noncommittal agreement, a nagging thought starting to form in the back of his mind.

Her eyes flicked around their towels, blanket, and cooler. “Just the two of you then?” She asked. 

“No,” Maglor said quickly. “The twins in red burying each other in the sand are ours.”

She looked out to where he pointed. “Cute,” She said in the way he was discovering many parents did when talking about other people’s kids. She leaned back in her chair and probably closed her eyes, though he couldn’t tell past the glasses.

Maedhros patted his head like he did when they were kids. “There you go, ready for the water.”

Maglor scooted around to face him again. “Don’t get my hair wet.”

Hands raised in surrender were his only response.

He looked down at his wristwatch. Twenty minutes still to go. That nagging feeling kept eating at him. He picked up the book again, opening to where he left off. He tried to read, but he couldn’t get back into the story.

All at once, he dropped the book and turned to Maedhros.

“We didn’t put sunscreen on them!”

“What?” The other asked, blinking as he came back from wherever the warmth sent him drifting off to.

“Elros and Elrond,” He said, looking over to where the boys were just a couple heads sticking out of the sand, several other kids having joined in on burying them. “They’re part human. They could get sunburns!” 

He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten about it. He hadn’t packed sunscreen, he didn’t even think Maedhros or he had any at their homes. Such a simple, everyday thing for humans, and they’d completely forgotten about it. He dreaded to think about how painful the children’s skin would be tomorrow.

Maedhros frowned. “They’re part elf, too,” He reasoned. “Why should they get burned?”

“They might,” Maglor repeated with worry. “I should go buy some. Or maybe we should all leave so it doesn’t get any worse.”

Maedhros sighed. “It’ll be a thirty-minute drive each way. The damage is already done if it’s going to happen, so let’s not ruin the rest of the day. Besides,” He added. “They’ve clearly spent a lot of time in the water. I think they’d know if they need to worry about it.”

Personally, Maglor never thought it was too late to start mitigating damage, but his brother had made up his mind. He’d just have to deal with whatever came of it.

[tojisun]

the apple that rolled over to the tree

!! fluff; f!reader; parenthood!!; simon-centric hehe >:3 // divider by @/plutism!

there is a… kid attached to your hip when simon returns home from a mission, his exhausted body stumbling into the kitchen where he finds you and it.

“what—”

he can’t even fathom the emotion coursing through him at the moment, what with shock triumphing over everything. still, you’d probably need to give him credit for not losing his goddamn mind at seeing a whole child — he couldn’t have been more than two years old with how he’s only three apples tall — clinging to you like a baby koala.

“oh my god, you’re back!” you squeal, unfazed at how dumbfounded your fiance has become, before shuffling close to embrace him.

simon reciprocates the hug anyway.

you step back, your lips still wobbling in your tears as you stare up at him, all awed like you couldn’t believe that he was back and simon wishes he can press his promises to your lips because he will always find a way to come back, he swears on his life, but also—

the child.

“sweetheart?” he begins, soft as to not spook you or the kid. “who’s, uh, who’s that?”

the child shifts, turning his little face from where it was burrowed onto your neck at the sound of simon’s voice. he rests his head on your clavicle, smooshing his already chubby cheek, before the biggest brown eyes that simon’s ever seen stare up at him, all doe-eyed and jarringly innocent, and simon, he—

well, not even babysitting tommy’s kids prepared him for this.

“this is yasha,” you murmur, pulling simon’s attention back to you. “or yakov, or james if he would want an english name.”

the boy reacts to you calling his name, and simon watches as those curious eyes tip up at you in question. you swipe your finger over his nose, the little thing scrunching up at the ticklish feeling, and simon becomes breathless at seeing the unadulterated joy in your face.

it is all parts soft and tender, but also anxious and worried, and simon begins to puzzle out the pieces.

“he’s my foster child. or ours, i guess, now that you’re here.” your voice is so fragile as you reply to him, your hand now beginning to rub soothing nothings on the boy’s back. simon wonders if it’s more to calm yourself down than it is to comfort the boy.

your lips purse, hesitating, and simon waits because while he he’s pieced out what you want to ask, he knows that this is something you would want to truly talk to him about. it is something he knows you have mustered up the courage to bring up so he gives it to you, open and ready, and he hopes that his face and his gait show that whatever it is you would want to say, simon will always support you no matter what.

“si?” you begin, looking heart-wrenchingly small in your worry. “i think i wanna adopt him.”

simon hums, stepping close but also being careful not to crowd yasha, before he curls his arms around you two — his family — and nuzzles his face on your other shoulder. “i’d love that.”

he offers you a smile, and squeezes your arm in comfort, then he watches as the tears come, easily springing up from your eyes. yasha startles, whirling to look up at his mother in worry. simon’s throat constricts at the thought of you being a mother and him, a father; how, now, there is someone else for simon to come home to. someone to fight for.

jesus. he’d need to tell the lads and maybe get wasted as a celebration.

“owies?” yasha asks, chubby fist balling your shirt.

“they’re happy tears, sweetie pie,” you reply, crooning. “i’m just so, so happy.”

yasha hums, nodding, probably already distracted, and simon takes that time to straighten back up. he pushes your hair away from your face, before he pitches forward to press a kiss on your forehead.

yeah, he’s happy too.

.

yasha gets spoiled, not that simon’s complaining given that he’s been the one doing all the spoiling.

“really, si? a new toly?” you ask, arms crossed over your chest in your exasperation.

toly or anatoly, or tory because yasha still can’t speak properly, is the name that yasha gave to all of his new stuffed toys. it all started with a dog plush that simon bought from the supermarket on a whim and gave to the boy. it was laughably quick how yasha had abandoned his blocks to make grabby hands to the toy, before squealing out that name.

the next stuffed toy that yasha received, which was just the softest and roundest penguin plush toy that simon’s ever seen, was also named toly. so was that teddy bear you bought for him. or that reindeer he got for christmas. somehow, every single one had been named toly.

the only thing you and simon can find about toly was that anatoly means sunrise. simon was so sure it was the russian word for animal, because why else would yasha repeat it, but who would have thought that their little fish is so imaginative?

like, of course he’s going to name all of his toys toly because they are as warm as sunrises. see? smart kid.

but this one, this new toly, set off world records. it was a camel plush that simon saw at the airport when he was out, pretending to be a civilian.

(garrick had been assigned with him for that mission, and was quick to spot and mention simon’s on-duty purchase.

“it’s for my boy,” he grunted in reply, forgetting the fact that he’s yet to truly break the news to his squad. garrick had never looked as surprised, and next thing simon knew, the news made its way to their group chat.

price was amiable about the whole thing. mactavish? not so much.

he just about begged to see a picture of yasha — “and yer girl again, if you wouldn’t mind.” — or even visit him. then he invited garrick to come and price invited himself too, so now the guys are going to swing by some time soon.)

when simon gave it to yasha, their boy had stared at it for a solid minute — simon counted — before screaming and then running to snatch the toy from simon’s hold. he hugged the camel close to his person, his little head nuzzling against the plush face of the camel, all the while absolutely vibrating in unabashed excitement.

he picked up thundering footsteps and turned around just enough to see you literally slide into the room. yasha continued to hug the camel, ignorant of the distress he caused, while you looked on in your panic, buzzing with worry because you just heard your boy scream, damn it!

“he’s fine, bub,” simon said before you could ask, and he watched as you came down from your frenzy, your breathing slowing down at the rationalization that if simon was not panicked, then everything’s alright.

then, your eyes landed on the new stuff toy.

“really?” you asked.

in his defence, yasha adores camel-toly.

in your defence, yasha’s room is running out of space for his tolys.

…well, simon does have all that military money. gonna have to spend it on something else, right?

.

[charlie foxtrot]

sriley: link

john2: ????

sriley: new address.

garry: oh? congratulations.

sriley: thanks.

johnp: 👍

.

yasha was shy when saying hi to price, then outright cried when he saw mactavish, which made simon bark out loud in laughter. yasha only stopped sniffling when he saw kyle. in no time, yasha absolutely adored garrick to the point that he would not even let him go.

dinner was prepared and while you called them all to eat, simon ambled out of the kitchen, where he had been helping you, and walked towards kyle and yasha to pick up his son and seat him on his high chair. but yasha had only looked at him, his head tilted in question, before ignoring simon and clinging onto kyle.

hell, he had even let go of camel-toly so that he could use two chubby fists to hold onto kyle. surprised, simon didn’t even know how to react and watched as his sergeant offered him an apologetic smile before carrying his son to the dining room. kyle rounded the table and sat yasha on his high chair, only, yasha made a scene when kyle did so, and he released a lungful of screams and cries, breaking everyone’s eardrums and their hearts.

kyle stood there, worried and confused, and hovered because he did not know what to do. hell, none of them did, and then you walked out of the kitchen, rushing to yasha, and hummed songs to comfort your son.

you crooned when he made grabby hands to be picked up and you did so with no hesitation, your touch soothing the boy into quiet sniffles. but even then, yasha wouldn’t settle down as he wriggled in your arms, short limbs reaching for—

simon glowered.

yasha was reaching for kyle. you were quick to giggle, asking kyle if it was alright that yasha would eat with him, and simon had glared at his sergeant, daring him to deny their son of anything, before reluctantly nodding his approval at kyle’s happy trill of, “of course, ma’am!”

yasha had finally calmed down when you sat him on kyle’s lap, and his boy was even polite enough to actually eat his soft veggies every time kyle beckoned him to open his mouth for a new spoonful.

simon did not startle, but it was close, when your hand landed on his thigh.

“you okay, baby?” you asked, eyes furrowed in your worry.

“yeah,” he remembers replying with, his throat all choked-up because he knows yasha must be excited to have new people to play with, but still, there was something that stung when his boy chose garrick over him.

not that it was kyle’s fault because he is a dear for even doing all that he did for yasha, but simon had hoped that he would always be yasha’s favourite.

too lost in his thoughts, simon had almost missed yasha’s call.

“-ddy? daddy?” yasha asked, startling simon.

it was not the first time yasha called him that, but every time he did, it never fails to make simon melt.

“yeah? what’s up, buddy?”

simon pretended that no one was watching the interaction.

yasha giggled, hiding his food-smeared lips behind his little palms, before turning to use garrick’s front to hide from simon. you snorted, murmuring to kyle how you swear you would wash his shirt before they go, but it’s all buzz to simon because his son — his darling boy — wanted to play with him during dinner.

yasha peeked at him again, before giggling once more when he caught simon’s eyes. this continued on until dinner ended, with simon occasionally miming growling monsters to induce more hearty giggles from his son, and being rewarded with the happiest laughter ever.

simon turned to you, with his heart on his throat, and beamed.

“aww,” mactavish sang from somewhere beside him. “ain’t that adorable— argh!”

simon had swung his arm out and thumped his fist on johnny’s stomach. thank god, yasha had chosen that time to hide his face again on kyle’s stomach.

.

“unca’ john?” yasha asks in a stage-whisper because everyone within earshot just heard him even with his attempt to be quiet. it’s only their training that stopped simon from acting like he’s noticed.

“yeah, bubsy?” john replies, sounding so utterly soft that this version of him is so foreign to simon.

“this tory,” yasha says and simon discreetly peeks to see which toly is being introduced to uncle john — it’s the elephant one.

price gasps theatrically like he hadn’t seen yasha drool all over this elephant toy before, and puffs out, “how cute!”

“mhmm,” yasha says, nodding, then smacks the face of the toy on john’s face. the trunk smooshes against john’s nose, and thank god that elephant-tory is soft because that aim would have been lethal if it wasn’t.

“jesus—” price gasps out.

“language!” simon hisses, and ducks his head back down just before yasha could catch him peeking.

.

yasha is now four and he still gets teary eyed when he sees johnny. simon placates his friend and says it’ll pass soon. maybe.

basically, i wanted to write a fic wherein simon’s reaction to being presented with a child is “what— oh okay, sure why not” and (literally in 20 minutes) “i will kill everything for this child” and so here we are

a simon spinoff - it takes a rampage (to be a dad)

[improbable-outset]

Family of three? (Or more):

Before Emi stumbled upon his life, the thought of having children never really crossed his mind. His initial reluctance and emotional breakdown when he had to take care of Emi shows how unprepared he felt for the role of fatherhood. Despite eventually embracing the role and finding joy in caring for Emi, he still feels a bit iffy about having his own children (biological or adopted)

A human baby is much smaller and more delicate than a kaiju. Human infants are more vulnerable, and this amplifies Ken’s insecurities. Every new parent will have the typical fear of not being good enough or making mistakes, and I think Ken’s insecurities stem from his past.

Ken’s strained relationship with his father, even though it was eventually resolved, left a lasting impact on him. As a child, he felt abandoned when his father stayed in Japan while he moved to America with his mother.

I feel like the sense of abandonment is a deep-rooted fear he carries into his own potential parenthood. He’s anxious that his double life as a star baseball player and Ultraman might leave his own child to feel the same way he did— confused and abandoned.

However, this might give him determination not to repeat history and ensure his child never feels the same way he did. Furthermore, the thought of his child watching him play, whether through TV or in person, might inspire him to excel in his baseball career.

He hopes that his kid will look up to him with admiration just as Emi did when she watched him practice and supported him

[rafeskai]

Life as We Know It — Rafe Cameron

Chapter Three

Two opposites must navigate love, loss, and unexpected parenthood to discover the meaning of family.

Summary: When tragedy strikes, two very different individuals find their lives unexpectedly intertwined as they become the guardians of an orphaned child. As they navigate the challenges of co-parenting, balancing careers, and confronting their pasts, they discover that family can form in the most surprising ways. Through heartfelt moments and unexpected humor, they explore what it means to build a life together—one step at a time.

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Character deaths & angst.

Author's Notes: Shit really just went down in this chapter. IM SORRY

Masterlist: Here

The months that followed were a blur of late nights, baby cries, and countless moments of learning how to be something neither of you had ever planned to be—parents. The house was constantly filled with the soft murmur of Willa’s coos, the sound of bottles being washed, and the endless shuffle of trying to make everything fit together.

It wasn’t easy. There were days when you thought you couldn’t keep your eyes open, and nights when you questioned if you were doing anything right at all. But there were moments, too—small victories, fleeting glimpses of joy—that kept you both going.

Moving in with Rafe had been the right decision, you told yourself. The practical side of it made sense, especially as the weeks went on. Rafe was still Rafe: intense, unpredictable, and sometimes impossible to read. But he was trying, and that was something.

Willa had come to see both of you as a constant in her life. She was thriving—growing fast, her chubby cheeks rounding out and her eyes lighting up when either of you walked into the room. You’d become an expert in diaper changes and feeding schedules, and though you hated to admit it, Rafe was actually pretty good with her. He had his moments where he was awkward, unsure, but when it came down to it, he was there. He would hold her when she cried, rock her when she wouldn’t sleep, and talk to her in that soft, almost tender voice you rarely heard from him anywhere else.

You had both fallen into a routine, the rhythm of everyday life settling in like a steady heartbeat. Willa would wake up around 6:30 AM, and by the time Rafe would stumble downstairs with a groggy groan, you’d already had coffee brewing and Willa settled on her blanket. The mornings were quiet—comfortable silence, filled with routine, until Willa started to fuss and everything shifted into motion.

You’d learned how to work together without much communication, both of you picking up on cues. One of you would get the bottle ready while the other soothed Willa, and when she finished, it was time for a nap.

And as much as you hated to admit it, you’d grown used to Rafe’s presence—his heavy footsteps down the hallway, the sound of his voice trying (and sometimes failing) to sing Willa back to sleep at 3 AM.

But there were challenges too. It wasn’t all sweet moments and baby giggles. There were the days where everything felt like it was too much, when you felt overwhelmed by the endless demands of raising a baby, of balancing the practicalities of your life with the unexpected responsibilities of parenting.

There were the mornings when you woke up feeling like you hadn’t slept at all, when you were late for your shifts at the café, and you’d have to rush around to get everything in place. Rafe would always be there, trying to help, but still learning the ropes himself.

The first time you caught him on the phone with his aunt, asking how to properly wash a baby bottle, you had to stifle a laugh. It was the first time you realized that Rafe Cameron—wild, unpredictable Rafe—was just as clueless as you about this whole parenting thing. He might have grown up in a house full of servants, of wealth and privilege, but when it came to taking care of a tiny human, he was as green as they come.

But you didn’t hold it against him. You couldn’t.

The kitchen was where a lot of your moments happened—early mornings when you’d both stand side by side, quietly making coffee, or late nights when you’d settle Willa back into bed, whispering soft words of reassurance to each other. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t easy. But it was yours.

One night, as you both took a rare moment to sit on the couch after putting Willa to bed, you glanced at Rafe from the corner of your eye, noticing how he rubbed the back of his neck, a tired but satisfied look on his face. You couldn’t help but let a small smile tug at your lips.

"She’s growing so fast," you said softly, breaking the comfortable silence. "I swear she was just a tiny little thing a few weeks ago."

Rafe hummed in agreement, glancing over at you with a small, almost wistful smile. "Yeah. And it feels like every time we get used to something, she changes again."

You nodded, leaning back against the couch. "It’s like we’re constantly playing catch-up."

"Yeah," he said, the word carrying more weight than usual. He ran a hand through his hair. "You ever think about what this is all gonna look like when she gets older? I mean, God, we’re just making it up as we go."

You chuckled, the sound light and almost freeing in the quiet room. "I think that’s kind of the point, right?" You paused, looking over at him, your expression softening. "I never thought I’d be here. With you. Raising a baby. But it doesn’t feel... impossible anymore."

Rafe glanced at you, a small flash of something unguarded in his eyes. "Yeah. Me neither." He paused, looking down at his hands before looking back up. "I guess we’re doing okay, huh?"

You didn’t have an answer at first. Instead, you just let your gaze soften. Maybe you hadn’t figured everything out yet. Maybe you still had a long way to go. But right now? Right now, in this moment, you were okay.

The door creaked from the hallway, and you both turned toward it, the sound of Willa stirring faintly through the door. Without a word, Rafe got up, stretching his arms before walking to the crib. You watched him for a moment, surprised at how natural it had become for him to step in like that.

You followed him, your steps quiet as you watched him gently pick Willa up, rocking her in his arms as he murmured something soft to her. You felt a flutter of something in your chest, a strange mix of relief and warmth.

“Got her?” you whispered, half-expecting him to protest.

He looked at you over his shoulder, his face soft, the exhaustion in his eyes mixing with something else—something more like contentment. “Yeah. Go back to sleep. I got it.”

And in that moment, as you watched him rock Willa back to sleep with ease, you realized something: this—whatever this was—had become a part of you. Not the life you’d planned, but a life that felt strangely right.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

It was a few days later, and a crisp morning greeted them when the crying started again. Willa had been particularly fussy the past few days—her sleep patterns erratic, her cries escalating to heart-wrenching wails that neither you nor Rafe could seem to soothe. You'd tried everything: feeding her, changing her, singing to her, rocking her to sleep—but nothing worked.

Rafe was pacing around the living room, his eyes scanning every corner of the room as if the solution to Willa’s crying was hidden under a piece of furniture or buried in a drawer. You sat on the couch, rubbing your eyes, already feeling the exhaustion of another sleepless night pressing in on you. You hadn’t been able to focus at work, and the lack of sleep made everything feel like a blur. But now, there was no ignoring it. The crying was louder, more insistent, and it was like a knife to your heart every time she screamed.

Rafe glanced at you, his frustration mounting. “We’ve tried everything,” he muttered, the words tinged with helplessness. "What else can we do?”

You shook your head, feeling that same helplessness clawing at you. “I don’t know... We’ve been through the list a hundred times.”

You both sat there for a moment, staring at the baby monitor as Willa's cries grew even more frantic. You were about to stand up, about to try the rocking chair again, when Rafe's voice broke through the tension.

“I might know something.”

You looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

Rafe shifted, his brow furrowing slightly as he leaned against the wall. “Sarah used to do this when she was little. It’s crazy, but it worked every time. She had this blanket... a childhood blanket. I don’t know, it just always calmed her down.”

Your eyes widened as you processed his words. "Wait... Sarah had a blanket? Here?"

Rafe nodded. “Yeah. I think it's still in the attic. I’ll go get it.”

You watched as Rafe turned to leave, the sound of his boots echoing on the stairs. There was a strange, almost surreal feeling in the pit of your stomach as he disappeared from view. Sarah’s blanket. You hadn’t known about it—had no idea it was even still here, tucked away in the attic, a piece of her childhood still lingering in the house after everything that had happened.

A few moments later, Rafe returned, a slightly worn but soft-looking blanket in his hands. He didn’t say anything as he made his way over to the crib where Willa was still crying, her little face scrunched up in distress.

“Here goes nothing,” Rafe muttered, more to himself than to you.

He gently wrapped the blanket around Willa, smoothing it over her tiny body. It was faded in spots, the fabric soft with age, but it carried a strange comfort to it—a piece of Sarah that had been forgotten until now. You stood quietly, watching the scene unfold, unsure of what to expect.

And then, in what felt like an instant, Willa’s cries started to fade. Her tiny hands grasped at the blanket for a moment, and then she let out a soft sigh. Her body, tense from the crying, relaxed in Rafe’s arms, and her big brown eyes blinked up at him, almost like she was seeing him for the first time.

You could hardly believe it. The moment felt like magic.

Rafe, looking just as surprised as you, stood there for a moment, his hands still holding Willa as she cooed softly, her eyelids fluttering. “I’ll be damned,” he whispered. “It actually worked.”

You couldn’t move. The sight of Willa—now calm and almost content—was like a weight lifted from your chest. You had been so focused on solving this crisis, on trying to manage everything, that you hadn’t considered that something so simple, so deeply tied to the past, might be the key.

As Rafe gently placed Willa back in her crib, you stood still, unable to shake the strange sensation that had crept into your heart. Watching him with the blanket, watching him soothe Willa, a feeling washed over you—an unfamiliar tightness in your chest that was both comforting and unnerving. It was as if, in that moment, a piece of Sarah had crossed into your life in a way that felt too intimate. Too real.

Rafe glanced over at you, his face soft, almost vulnerable. “I didn’t think it would actually work,” he admitted quietly, still gazing at Willa, who was now sleeping soundly, wrapped in the faded childhood blanket.

You swallowed, trying to shake the sudden lump in your throat. “I didn’t know she had it,” you whispered, your voice quiet. “It’s... it’s kind of strange, isn’t it? To think that something so simple could bring her comfort.”

Rafe nodded, walking slowly back toward the living room as he sat down on the couch. He looked at you, his gaze slightly distant but full of that same raw honesty you’d come to expect from him. “Yeah, it’s weird. But it makes sense, right? Sarah had that damn thing with her everywhere. Maybe she passed it on to Willa somehow. Who knows? Maybe it’s something about the smell, or just the familiarity of it. But I guess that’s the thing with kids—they find comfort in things that we can’t even explain.”

You didn’t answer immediately. The room felt thick with something unspoken. There was a soft, melancholic weight in the air, and your chest ached. You hadn’t expected to feel this—this weird pull in your heart. The thought of Sarah, the reminder of her presence in this house, in your life, and now, with Willa... it was all too much to process.

You sat down beside Rafe, your body heavy with the unspoken thoughts crowding your mind. Neither of you said anything for a while. There wasn’t anything to say, really. But the silence between you two didn’t feel uncomfortable this time. It felt... shared.

Finally, after a few moments, you spoke, your voice soft but steady. “It’s... strange to think that Sarah’s still here. In some way. For Willa.” You looked at Rafe, trying to read his face, but his expression was guarded. “It’s like... she’s still looking out for her, even now.”

Rafe didn’t meet your gaze immediately. He just stared at the floor, running his hand through his hair. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “But I hope so.”

You glanced down at Willa, her tiny form tucked into the blanket, her face peaceful now. The weight in your chest felt a little lighter. “I hope so, too.”

It wasn’t easy. None of this was. But at that moment, with Sarah's blanket wrapped around Willa, you both realized something—it wasn’t just about the past anymore. It was about the present. And the future.

You didn’t have all the answers, but maybe you didn’t need to. Maybe you just needed to trust that you were doing your best, that you were doing this for Willa, for Sarah, for each other. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

The day had shifted into something quieter, something more grounded. The house felt a little warmer, a little fuller, with Sarah’s memory lingering in the most unexpected of ways.

And as you sat there next to Rafe, silently watching over Willa, you couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of peace—the first you’d felt in a while.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

A few hours later, the night had settled into a rare quiet, the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the house the only sounds in the otherwise still air. Willa had finally fallen asleep—her tiny body now wrapped snugly in her crib, her peaceful face illuminated by the moonlight that spilled through the window. You and Rafe were sitting in the living room, a bottle of wine between you both, the remnants of the evening slipping by in a slow, comfortable haze.

It wasn’t something either of you had planned, but tonight felt different. The weight of the past few months, the stress of adjusting to this new life together, had somehow slipped away after dinner. There was no rush to get up, no urgent task that needed to be done. The wine flowed freely, and for a brief moment, it felt like you were allowed to just breathe.

You poured the second glass of wine, the conversation light, a mix of joking about how neither of you had ever really handled a bottle opener right and how neither of you knew much about wine, but at that moment, it didn’t matter. The normal world felt far away, and this small moment of calm was something you both desperately needed.

“I swear,” Rafe said with a half-grin, swirling his glass and leaning back into the couch, “I think I might be a natural at this wine thing.”

You laughed, lifting your own glass to your lips. “Oh yeah? That’s what I was thinking too. A whole new world of sophistication has opened up for you.” You clinked your glass against him, the light chimes almost too loud in the silence.

There was a quiet ease to the night. The tension of the past few months, the uncertainty of your situation, seemed far away. You both talked about random things—life before Willa, stupid high school memories, the occasional dig at the ridiculousness of the Kooks’ high-society antics. And somehow, in this soft glow of laughter, you both began to forget the weight of your new reality.

But as the night wore on, something in the air between you shifted.

The conversation had died down, and now the silence felt heavier, different. You caught Rafe’s gaze as he looked at you over the rim of his glass, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the space between you seemed charged. It was almost as if, after everything, this moment was too... easy. Too comfortable.

You shifted on the couch, the wine starting to cloud your mind in the way it did when it wasn’t just about a drink anymore. Your heart beat a little faster, a strange heat blooming in your chest.

Rafe’s eyes never left you, and you could feel the sudden awareness of his presence—his usual confidence now laced with something more raw. You tried to brush it off, to laugh it away, but your throat felt tight.

“I think we might’ve had a little too much,” you said, your voice a little unsteady, more than you’d intended. You weren’t sure if it was the wine or the sudden tension or maybe something else entirely.

He nodded, his gaze now focused entirely on you. “Yeah, probably. But... you know, it’s been a while since I’ve had a night like this. With someone.”

You felt the words sit heavy between you both, something unspoken hanging there, and for a brief moment, you swore you saw something flicker in his eyes—something that mirrored what you had felt earlier, that strange warmth in your chest.

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could find the right words, Rafe shifted closer.

It was subtle, a slight movement, but it was enough to make your breath catch in your throat. And then, before you could stop yourself, before you could even process what was happening, his lips were on yours.

The kiss was gentle, and slow, like neither of you wanted to let go. For a moment, it felt like everything had shifted, like time had paused and all that mattered was the contact, the connection, the warmth of his mouth against yours.

But as quickly as it started, it was over. The distance between you two was almost immediate, both of you pulling away with wide eyes and labored breaths.

You both sat there, frozen, the weight of what had just happened sinking in like a heavy stone.

“Oh my God,” you muttered, your chest tight as your heart raced, “That... that was a mistake.”

Rafe’s face was flushed, his hands running through his hair nervously. He looked just as stunned as you felt. “Yeah. A big mistake,” he muttered under his breath, his voice laced with something like disbelief.

The air around you both thickened, heavy with the tension of what had just happened. Neither of you knew how to fix it, how to go back to the way things had been just minutes before, when everything felt... simple. When you both were just two people trying to figure things out.

“I—” You cut yourself off, unable to find the words. You didn’t know what you were supposed to say, what you were supposed to feel. The kiss had been... unexpected, yet somehow, it had felt too natural to ignore.

Rafe was silent for a long moment, his eyes locked on his hands, his voice quiet when he finally spoke. “We can’t—this can’t happen again, [Y/N].” His words were final, but there was something underneath them—a hesitation, like he wasn’t entirely sure that was what he wanted to say. “I mean, we’re... we’re doing this for Willa, right? We can’t let this mess things up.”

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah. You’re right.” But as you said the words, you felt a strange tug in your chest—something that didn’t align with the logic of what you knew was right. You didn’t know what to do with that feeling, how to even begin to unpack it.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You and Rafe were guardians to Willa. That was it. It had to be that way. This... this wasn’t supposed to complicate things.

But the air between you both remained heavy. Every word that followed felt like an attempt to fill the silence, to erase the awkwardness, but nothing worked.

You sighed, your hands pressing against your eyes. “This is just so messed up. We’ve already got enough going on, and now...” you trailed off, unsure of what to even say next. You felt disoriented, your emotions tangled.

Rafe glanced over at you, his expression shifting from shock to something softer. “I don’t know what to say either. But... we need to focus on Willa. We’re doing this for her. That’s all that matters.”

You nodded again, trying to pull yourself together, but the air between you two was thick, and no amount of words could erase the kiss, the connection that had flickered between you both.

And in the quiet that followed, you realized something: things were already complicated. Whether you admitted it or not, the line between what was necessary and what felt right was already blurred. And neither of you knew how to unblur it.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The days dragged on, each one more awkward than the last. After the kiss, Rafe had retreated into himself, throwing up walls so high you could barely see over them. He was colder now—shorter with his words, sharper with his tone. The rare moments of understanding and teamwork you’d managed to build in the past months seemed to vanish overnight.

It was suffocating.

You found yourself juggling too much at once: your shifts at the café, the endless demands of parenting, and now, the tension that lingered between you and Rafe like a storm cloud. You couldn’t escape it. Every glance, every clipped response from him was a reminder of the kiss—a reminder of how things had gone wrong and how neither of you knew how to fix it.

Willa was your only reprieve. Despite the chaos, she was growing brighter by the day. Her giggles were your anchor, her tiny hands reaching for yours a reminder of why you were enduring this storm. But even she wasn’t enough to distract you from the weight of everything else.

“Rafe, can you grab her bottle from the kitchen?” you called one afternoon, cradling Willa in your arms as she fussed.

He didn’t look up from his phone. “You’ve got two legs, don’t you?” he muttered, the words slicing through the air.

You froze, biting back the sting of his tone. “I’m holding her, Rafe,” you said as evenly as you could manage.

With an exaggerated sigh, he got up and stomped into the kitchen. The bottle landed on the coffee table a moment later, the sound of it hitting the wood sharper than it needed to be.

“Thanks,” you said, though your gratitude felt hollow. He didn’t respond, disappearing into his office without another word.

This was how it was now—barbed comments, cold silences, and the ever-present feeling that you were walking on eggshells.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

One evening, after another particularly tense exchange, you sat on the edge of your bed, the weight of everything pressing down on you. The exhaustion was bone-deep. You felt like you were failing on all fronts—your job, your relationship with Rafe (if you could even call it that), and even Willa.

You couldn’t help but wonder how much longer this could go on. How long you could juggle everything without dropping one of the pieces.

But before you could dwell on it too long, there was a knock at the door.

Rafe stood there, his face unreadable. For a moment, you thought maybe he was going to apologize, maybe he was going to acknowledge how hard this had been for both of you.

Instead, he said, “We need to talk.”

You braced yourself. “About?”

His eyes flickered with something you couldn’t place��nervousness, maybe, or anger. “Ward.”

Your stomach dropped. “What about him?”

Rafe stepped into the room, his posture tense. “He’s... he’s trying to get custody of Willa.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut.

“What?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“He’s claiming we’re unfit,” Rafe said, his jaw tightening. “Says we don’t have the resources, that we’re too young. He’s filing a petition.”

Your heart raced as you tried to process the information. Ward Cameron, the man who had emotionally scarred his children, who had driven a wedge into their family with his manipulations, was trying to take Willa away?

“He can’t—he can’t do this,” you said, your voice shaking with anger. “He’s not fit to take care of her! What about everything he did to you? To Sarah?”

Rafe’s expression hardened, a mixture of fear and fury flashing across his face. “None of that matters to him. He doesn’t care about her—he just wants control.”

The room felt smaller, the air heavier. You couldn’t lose Willa. Not to Ward. Not after everything you’d fought for, everything Sarah and John B. had wanted for her.

“What do we do?” you asked, your voice cracking.

Rafe looked at you, and for the first time in weeks, the coldness in his eyes melted away, replaced by something raw and real. “We fight him,” he said firmly. “We don’t let him win.”

But as he said the words, the doubt in his voice betrayed him. Because deep down, you both knew that Ward Cameron wasn’t a man who fought fair. And the thought of what he might do to get his way sent a chill down your spine.

The battle for Willa had just begun, and it was about to shake everything you thought you knew.

© 2024 rafeskai | All rights reserved. This fanfiction is a work of fiction inspired by characters from Outer Banks, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — TEEN DAD! GOJO x FEM READER

When Megumi gets injured on a mission, you realize you’re not capable of taking care of a child.

wc — 1.8k

tags — misunderstandings; self doubt; the pitfalls of teenage parenting when you’re all child soldiers; mild angst with a happy ending; happens post sometimes a family is you, teen dad Gojo, and the six year old child he accidentally orphaned, part I of teen dad gojoverse, in which you and Gojo raise Megumi together. 

You shove Megumi into his arms, a bundle of bloody black fabric and dead weight. Gojo doesn’t stumble - he never does - but it’s a close call as he instinctively wraps his arms around whatever you’ve pushed onto him. 

“Teleport! Teleport!” You’re so frantic you’re incoherent. It takes a full minute, a minute you don’t have, before you realize that you can’t just say things. Gojo, as invincible as he is, can’t read your mind. You have to explain what’s going on, but how can you focus when Megumi is bleeding out? His little face is growing paler and paler by the second. 

His hands are so tiny. Why is that the only thing you can focus on? They’re grasping the front of Gojo’s jacket for dear life as he coughs weakly. 

“Teleport him back to HQ! Get Shoko!” 

You resist the urge to shake Gojo by his lapels, slap some sense into him. It would only hurt Megumi. Why won’t he move?

“I can’t!”

“What do you mean you can’t? Go! He’s losing so much blood, you have to go now!” 

You know you’re getting hysterical, but Megumi is dying right in front of you. 

“I can’t teleport! There are conditions-“ 

“He’s going to die!” 

“Stop- I need to think!” 

In the back of your head, you can hear Shoko telling you in that cool and detached tone of hers that you’re hyperventilating. 

Look, she says, you see that? You’re breathing too quickly. You feel lightheaded, right? 

Gojo spreads his jacket out on the ground of the forest. “Help me get him ready. I’m going to sew up the cut.” 

“Let me-“ 

“I’ll do it. I’ve done Getou’s before. You just focus on keeping him breathing.” 

You can do that. 

Hunched over Megumi’s body, Gojo gets to work. He looks so frail, spread on the grass with only Gojo’s jacket beneath him. His eyes are normally dark, but they’re blacker with pain, his pupils swallowing up his irises. 

The first puncture of the needle makes him wail before he slaps his hand over his mouth. You peel it back and make vaguely soothing noises, trying to be comforting. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you murmur, letting him rest his head in your lap.

“You can scream, Megumi. I know it hurts. Oh, honey, I know. I know.” He’s making this face that agonizes you. His nose is all scrunched up as he clenches his jaw. He’s the type of kid that would rather chew up his suffering and swallow it back down then let anyone see it. 

This happened on your watch. 

Sick self hatred rises in your throat. 

Gojo would’ve never let anything happen to Megumi. 

He whimpers quietly and you flinch. Without even thinking of it, you reach for his hand. You force yourself not to tremble. You’re an adult. It’s your responsibility not to scare him like that. 

His eyes are closed as Gojo grimly works the needle through, but there’s a jump in his frantic heartbeat, as tiny as a rabbit’s. You can detect it through the pulsing vein in his wrist, funneling blood to the injury only to waste it on air. 

He’s such a brave kid - your brave little boy. You smooth his sticky wet hair back from his face, damp with sweat. He moans in pain and twists away. Your heart crumples. 

It takes so much for him to be vocal about anything that hurts him. How much pain must he be in?

“Gojo,” you say. 

“I’m trying!” 

You know. Going any faster is likely to have dangerous consequences. This is the only way. How cruel. You have to hurt him to help him, and isn’t that just the story of your parenthood? 

You curl around him, protective as if your body can shield him from his own body working against itself. The more blood he loses, the harder his body fights to keep him alive. 

It’s an infinitely long minute before Gojo proclaims the grim deed finished. Megumi had passed out long beforehand, his death grip on your fingers slackening as the pain pushed him into nothingness. 

He wakes up on the long drive back to campus. Ijichi has never bent so many speeding limits in his life. Normally a careful driver, he shoots furtive looks at the kid staining his back seats red. You can feel his judgment of what kind of parent you are settling over you. 

Shoko must be thinking the same thing as she patches Megumi up in your kitchen. Her reverse cursed technique seals the cut up in seconds flat, though a scar remains, puckering the flesh of his forearm. 

“Just like Utahime,” Gojo tells him, pinching his cheek. “You didn’t cry either, so you’re better than her.” 

“Don’t talk about your seniors like that,” you say absentmindedly, though your mind could not be further from disciplining Gojo for his poor behavior. 

You can’t send Megumi to the Zenins. You know what they’d do to a sweet kid like him. They’d turn him into a monster like his father. You shudder, thinking of the creature from your nightmares who had stolen the life of a sixteen year old girl, and nearly taken Gojo with him. You could never let them do that to Megumi. They probably wouldn’t take care of Tsumiki either, unless to hold her over his head. But just because they aren’t fit caretakers doesn’t mean you are. 

“Hey.”

“Hey.” 

“Hey.” 

Gojo’s been trying to get your attention for who knows how long. When he sees that he finally has it, he sends Megumi off to bed and jerks his thumb at the door. Wordlessly, you follow him to the porch. It’s dimly lit from a singular overhead bulb without a covering. The two of you stand in a circle of light, the night outside pressing in against the walls of your home. 

“What is it?” He says impatiently. “I fixed everything, didn’t I? Why are you still upset?” 

“It’s not you,” you say. It’s so cliche, but what else is there to say? “It’s my fault.” 

“Don’t,” he says softly. 

You pull your hand back when he tries to take it. There’s a perverse sense of satisfaction in denying both of you what you want. You don’t deserve this. 

He’s silent for a long time. You let the silence stew, determined to outlast him. Quickly, it becomes clear who has the upper hand. You shift from side to side, nervous and tense, while he just waits with his hands shoved in his pockets. When you finally look over, he’s wearing his sunglasses again. His hair glows under the porch light, attracting moths. “Finally felt like playing nice?” 

He’s attractive when he’s mean. You hate that about him, the way the cruel twist of his mouth ties knots into your stomach. It would all be easier if you could hate him, but everything he does only makes you love him more. 

What a twisted little family you’ve built for yourself. 

He sighs. “Stop that. Don’t-“ he waves his hand in your general direction in frustration. “You always do that. It’s not your fault.” 

“He needs a real parent, Gojo. I couldn’t protect him.” 

“I was there too,” he says. “You don’t see me agonizing over my mistakes. It happens.” 

What mistake, you think bitterly. Gojo’s only fault is trusting you with Megumi. He’s the strongest. If it was him, nothing would’ve happened. 

“It wasn’t your mistake. It was mine. If I hadn’t been there, everything would have been fine.” 

“Again?” Gojo says quietly. 

It’s a forceful reminder of how much you sound like Getou right now. He never recovered from what that monster - Megumi’s father - did to him. Even now, your class lives with the scars of that day. Gojo’s face is wistful for a brief moment, deluged by memories. Then it’s gone, wiped from his expression like it had never been there. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you say, wondering if it’s too late to take it back.  

Gojo never falters. He’s unreasonable and childish, but he’s as solid as stone. You’ve watched him shoulder every single burden he’s ever been asked to carry since he was a child, and now he’s taken on one more. You promised Gojo that you would watch his back, regardless of whether he needed you or not. The words you spoke in a fit of anger and self pity bring you regret now. Weakness isn’t just failing to shield Megumi from all the dangers of sorcery that you wish you and Gojo had been protected from. Weakness is running away when it gets hard. 

Megumi’s your baby. 

You’re not going to give him up. 

A step forward has you pressing into Gojo’s space. He doesn’t yield, watching you with those ancient eyes. 

“I know it’ll only get harder, but it has to be us, right? Who else will keep him safe from the Zenins? I won’t leave, Gojo. I promise.” 

His relieved expression contrasts with his smug words. There’s a crooked smile on his face when he says, “I knew you wouldn’t just abandon us. You think Megumi wants to stay with me? You’re the one keeping him here.” 

“I get it,” you smack his arm. “No need for flattery. I’m with you until the end.” 

“I’m not kidding,” he protests. “There’s no universe in which Megumi likes me more than you.” 

How can you stay upset when he looks so proud of himself for finally figuring out the right thing to say to get you to stay? 

“He doesn’t,” you insist. 

Gojo rolls his eyes. “Don’t lie to me. Here, I’ll prove it.” 

It’s not uncommon for Gojo to put Megumi to bed. In fact, it’s a chore he fights you for. It’s probably one of his favorite parts of having Megumi around. He likes telling stories, and surprisingly enough, he’s good at it. He gives each character its own voice. More often than not, he ends up as invested in the bedtime story as Megumi is. Tonight, when he closes the book, he doesn’t leave. The soft light of the lamp on the bedside table shines through a crack in the door as Gojo and Megumi talk in hushed whispers. 

“I want my mom,” he says quietly. 

You lean against the door, pressing your head to the wood to try to keep yourself from falling to the ground. You want to try. You want to be there for him. But Megumi needs his mother, not some teenager who can’t even take control of her own life, much less a child’s. You’re all he has, though, and you have to make it work. You wish Mrs. Fushiguro was still alive, even if that means you would’ve never gotten to meet him. 

“Then ask her to come in,” Gojo says. 

Megumi makes a startled noise. You can almost see him burrowing into his blankets. 

“Go on,” Gojo coaxes. “Oh, come on. Don’t be shy now. You really won’t? Fine.” 

He calls to you. “Come in, sweetheart. Don’t keep us waiting.” 

The first thing you see when you open the door is Megumi’s head buried beneath the covers. Gojo’s trying to peel the sheets back. 

“What are you hiding for? I brought you your mom! You should be thanking me!”

“I hate you!” 

“I told you,” Gojo says. “He loves you more than me.”

[totaly-obsessed]

Pitchside Parenthood

Jessie Fleming x reader request

-> Baby Fever -> allusions to smut? -> Short - I don't know what to think

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Watching Jessie play the game she loved would always be the highlight of your week, no matter how many times you had to trudge through the London rain. The passion she held for it was incredible and hard to relate to, as someone who did not harbor such intense love for a sport.

But your favorite part of matches would forever be when the players would go around the pitch and interact with fans - and of course, they did it today as well. By now used to this you waited patiently for your girlfriend at your seat, but then something caught your eye…

Jessie. With a kid. In the middle of the pitch. Waving up at you.

With a careful eye, you watched as your girlfriend played with the little boy, helping him up once he stumbled over his own feet, with a chuckle that you only knew too well.

Cool cool cool. You were totally normal. No need to panic.

—-

Once in the car, the Canadian noticed your quietness. Up until now, everything had been just as normal. You had greeted her outside of the changing rooms with a quick kiss and a squeeze of her hand.

But now there was no music on and your knees were pressed together, pointing away from her. 

“Are you okay baby?”

Her right hand was on the steering wheel, while her left reached out to your thigh, pulling them to her with a gentle but determined grip. A content sigh left her lips as she finally touched you again.

“Our babies would be so cute.”

“Oh, yeah?”

The shit-eating grin on her face was incredibly hard to miss even with a bitten lip in an attempt to hide it. Warm hands now wander up and down your thighs. 

“Mhmm.”

“What makes you say that?”

Jessie finally turned the car around the last corner, letting you see the sweet retreat of your home. 

“I dunno. Just thought of it.”

Of course, the footballer knew that it wasn’t the truth. After all, she had seen the slight change in your eyes, even from all the way down on the pitch.

“Well, I think they would be adorable. You’re their mom after all.”

The Canadian lived to see you blush, to her it was the funniest thing ever. You just looked so cute and bashful.

“Really?”

Your girlfriend helped you out of the car after pulling into your driveway. She could feel the slight shake of your clammy hands. 

Trying to unlock the front door was a lot harder when you had someone pressing up behind you, breath fanning over the neck where she placed kiss after kiss.

“Mhmm, I think you’d be a great mum.”

Finally, you had gotten that stupid door open and with Jessie still clinging onto you, you both fell into the hallway, where you were promptly facing the next wall.

“Let’s start making you a Mum then, huh?”

“Put a ring on me first, Fleming.”

“Nothing I’d rather do, my love.”

[03jyh23]

🌷⌇ our first day finding our way back part 5; a choi jongho mini-series

ex-boyfriend! idol! jongho x ex-girlfriend! single-mom! reader

│ series masterlist│ │next │

│synopsis: five years have passed since jongho last saw you. your lives have taken drastically different paths, with jongho achieving fame and you focusing on raising your daughter, nari, in quiet anonymity. when jongho discovers he has a daughter, he's determined to be a part of her life.

│genre: a slice of life, romance, fluff, some angst

│trigger warnings: unplanned pregnancy, illegitimate child, single parenthood

│words: 9 k

│reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

— hi there my lovely people! i hope all of you had a good week! i'm so happy to finally write more nari as im aware that's what you've been looking for! we are only getting started with dad jongho moments so im excited for the future updates, even if it means we are getting closer to the end :( i don't really have much to say regarding this part, i hope you will enjoy it!!!

love, mon ♡

│taglist: │ @seventeenthingsblr @DALSUWAHA

@treehouse-mouse @ateez-atiny380 @yoonshiiu

@sndeoki @bomi-ja @dearinsaniiiity

@vixensss @all-fandoms-rise

@finnydraws @hyuckiesgf @jonghosbrainrot

@ateezswonderland @stayatinykatsy @chickenscoups ♡

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Jongho hung up the phone and started gathering his things, his mind racing with thoughts of Nari and the urgency in your voice. He mentally ran through everything he might need for the day. His movements were quick but slightly clumsy in his haste. He grabbed his shoes, slipping them on as he made his way to the door. Just as he was about to leave his room, he realized he hadn't taken his car keys. With a small, frustrated sigh, he turned back and scanned the room, spotting them on the nightstand. He snatched them up and then reached for a jacket from the rack, knowing the morning air might still be chilly. 

As he shrugged on the jacket, his mind was solely focused on getting to you and Nari as quickly as possible. In his rush, his legs tangled momentarily, causing him to stumble. He steadied himself, taking a deep breath to clear his head. He couldn't afford to waste any more time. 

"Shit, I can't just go empty-handed," he whispered to himself. Jongho quickly scanned the room, looking for something to bring. There was nothing suitable for a little girl. He sighed, not wanting to visit without bringing Nari anything. As he scanned the room one last time, his eyes landed on a small collection of his belongings, none of which seemed appropriate for his daughter. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the weight of the situation. He wanted to make a good impression, to show Nari that he was thinking about her and cared enough to bring something special. "Wooyoung's gonna hate me but a man gotta do what he gotta do," he thought, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips despite the urgency. Taking a deep breath, he left his room and walked down the hall to Wooyoung's door. He hesitated momentarily, knowing it was still early and that Wooyoung might not appreciate being woken up. But there was no other option. He needed to do this. With a determined knock, Jongho rapped on the door. He waited, shifting from foot to foot as he listened for any signs of movement inside. After a few moments, he knocked again, a little louder this time. Finally, he heard the sound of shuffling footsteps and the door creaked open to reveal a very sleepy and slightly annoyed Wooyoung. 

"Jongho? What the hell? It's barely dawn," Wooyoung grumbled, rubbing his eyes and squinting at Jongho. 

Jongho took a deep breath, trying to remain patient. "I know, Wooyoung, and I'm really sorry for waking you. But I need a favor. I'm going to meet Nari now, and I want to bring her something special. Do you happen to have any new Aniteez merch lying around?" 

Wooyoung's expression softened slightly as he processed Jongho's words. "You're going to see Nari?" he asked, his annoyance giving way to curiosity and a hint of understanding. 

Jongho nodded. "Yeah, Y/N called me. She has an emergency at work. I need to get there as soon as possible, and I want to make a good impression. I thought some merch might be a nice gesture." 

Wooyoung sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Alright but why would I have our merch, Jongho?" Wooyoung asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Jongho sighed, "I know it's a long shot, but you're always the one who ends up with the extra stuff after our events. Do you have anything or not?" 

"Ugh!" A groan was heard from the bedroom, followed by a muffled voice both Wooyoung and Jongho couldn’t understand. "Sannie, if you want to tell us something, would you keep your head above the pillow, please?" Wooyoung requested, his tone soft when he spoke. 

There was a brief pause, then the sound of rustling sheets and a louder, clearer voice. "Woo, just give him the car," San's voice came through more clearly now, filled with sleepiness and a hint of exasperation. 

"What are you... oh! Oh!" Wooyoung exclaimed, suddenly wide awake. He rushed to his wardrobe, flinging open the doors with newfound urgency. Jongho watched as Wooyoung rummaged through his clothes, tossing aside shirts and hoodies in his search. It felt like an eternity, but finally, Wooyoung emerged holding a packaged box. 

"I bought it for Kyungmin, he was supposed to visit today but he can’t because he’s sick, and mom won’t let him," Wooyoung explained, handing over the box with a sigh. "I'm going to buy him another one soon, so you can take it." 

Jongho raised his eyebrow, a mix of surprise and gratitude washing over his face. "It's a car?" he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity and relief. He hadn't expected Wooyoung to have something so perfect on hand. 

Wooyoung nodded, a small smile playing on his lips as he saw Jongho's reaction. "Yeah, it's one of those remote-controlled cars. Kyungmin loves them, and I think it might be something Nari could enjoy too." 

Jongho hesitated for a moment, considering Wooyoung's words. "But Nari is way younger than Kyungmin. Do you think she can play with it safely?" he asked, concern evident in his voice. 

Wooyoung paused, scratching his head thoughtfully. "You’re right, Jongho. Maybe it’s not the best idea. But it's the only thing I have right now. Just make sure to supervise her while she's playing with it. She might still have fun, even if she can't control it perfectly." Wooyoung smiled thoughtfully. "You know what? One day, Kyungmin could teach Nari how to drive it. It could be something they bond over, and who knows, maybe she'll become a pro at it before you know it." He chuckled as he imagined the two kids playing together. Jongho loved the idea, he was looking forward to the future, to see his daughter spending time with his members, and bonding with Kyungmin seemed like a great idea. The sweet boy could be like a big brother to Nari, and maybe one day, they would become best friends.  

"Yeah, that sounds like a great plan. Thanks, Wooyoung. I owe you one." He took the car from Wooyoung's hands, feeling a little more at ease with having something to bring to Nari. 

Wooyoung waved off the gratitude with a casual shrug. "It's no big deal. Just get going already. The sooner you get there, the better." 

Jongho nodded, clutching the box tightly. "You're right. Thanks again, Wooyoung. I'll make it up to you." 

"Just go," Wooyoung chuckled, closing the door softly as Jongho turned to leave, his steps more determined now, bolstered by the unexpected gift and his friend's support. 

Jongho made his way out of the apartment, the remote-controlled car securely tucked under his arm. The morning air was crisp, and he took a deep breath, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. He quickly got into his car, started the engine, and headed towards your place; his mind focused on the day ahead with Nari. And as he drove, he couldn't help but wonder if he would do a good job. He feared not meeting Nari's needs. After all, he didn't know how to handle a 4-year-old. The questions swirled in his mind, each one adding to the knot of anxiety in his chest. He tried to reassure himself, remembering the warmth in your voice when you thanked him and the genuine eagerness, he felt about spending time with his daughter. But doubts still lingered. Would he be able to comfort her if she got upset? What if she didn't like him or felt uncomfortable around him? The fear of not being able to connect with Nari gnawed at him, making him grip the steering wheel a little tighter. The weight of responsibility felt immense. Jongho's mind kept racing with scenarios, each one more daunting than the last. What if Nari got hurt while they were playing? Would he know how to handle a scraped knee or a bump on the head? The thought of his daughter in pain made his heartache. He also worried about making sure she had a good time. He wanted her to feel happy and cherished, to have fun, and to create positive memories with him. The pressure to make everything perfect was overwhelming. Yet, amidst all the worries, there was a flicker of hope. The thought of seeing Nari's smile, of hearing her laugh, filled him with determination. He was willing to try his best. He knew that being present and attentive were the most important things he could offer. And with that thought, Jongho felt a small sense of calm wash over him. He took another deep breath, focusing on the road ahead, and silently promised himself that he would do everything in his power to be the father Nari deserved. He pulled his car into the parking lot of your apartment complex, the engine's hum gradually fading as he turned it off. Jongho took a moment to collect his thoughts, his fingers drumming nervously on the steering wheel. The morning sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, casting a soft, golden light across the surroundings. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed the box with the toy inside and stepped out of the car, the cool morning air brushing against his skin. As he closed the door to his car, Jongho noticed a small flower shop across the street. A delivery car was parked in front of the entrance, overflowing with beautiful flowers. The sight of the vibrant blooms caught his eye, and he jogged over, hoping it wouldn't take too much time. 

"Excuse me? Are you open?" he called out as he approached the shop. 

An old lady with white curly hair and a kind smile on her face turned to him. "Oh, hello young man," she replied warmly. "We are not opening until later today." 

Jongho's face fell slightly, but he quickly gathered himself. "I see. It's just that I'm in a bit of a hurry, and I wanted to get something special for my daughter. It's our first day really spending time together, and I thought some flowers might brighten her day." 

The old lady's expression softened even more. "Your daughter, you say? How sweet. Well, I suppose I could make an exception just this once. What kind of flowers were you thinking of?" 

Jongho smiled, relief washing over him. "Thank you so much. I'm not entirely sure, to be honest. Maybe something colorful?" 

The old lady nodded thoughtfully and walked over to the delivery car. "I think I have just the thing," she said, selecting a small bouquet of mixed flowers. The arrangement was a delightful mix of daisies, tulips, and a few roses, bursting with color and life. "These should do nicely," she said, handing the bouquet to Jongho. "I hope your daughter loves them." 

Jongho took the bouquet, his smile widening. "I'm sure she will. Thank you again, really. You've made my day a lot easier." 

The old lady chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "How about a little something for your wife as well, dear? A thoughtful gesture can go a long way." 

"My wife?" he asked, at first, he furrowed his brow but soon a soft smile appeared on his lips, he couldn't help but feel warm inside at the thought of being married to you. The assumption of the lady made his heart race, a soft blush creeping up his cheeks. He hadn't thought about getting a bouquet for you, but now he found himself considering it. The idea of surprising you with flowers, of seeing your face light up with a smile, filled him with a sense of joy and anticipation. He imagined you standing at the door, bouquet in hand, your eyes sparkling with surprise and happiness. The image was so vivid and heartwarming that he couldn't resist. "You know what, that's a wonderful idea," Jongho said, his voice filled with newfound excitement. "I'll take another bouquet for my wife as well." 

The old lady's smile widened as she selected another beautiful arrangement, this one with soft pastel colors and delicate blooms. "Here you go, young man. I hope both your daughter and wife have a lovely day," she said, handing him the second bouquet. 

Jongho accepted the flowers, his heart swelling with gratitude. "Thank you so much. You've really made my day," he replied, his voice sincere. He took out his wallet and paid, leaving a big tip. The flower shop owner looked a bit frustrated. 

"Oh, that's way too much!" she exclaimed, trying to hand some of the money back. 

"Please, keep it," Jongho insisted with a warm smile. "Consider it a thank you for your kindness." The old lady sighed but eventually accepted, her expression softening. 

"Alright, if you insist. Thank you, and good luck with your day," she said, waving him off. 

As Jongho approached your apartment complex, he felt a mix of nerves and excitement. Balancing the bouquets and the remote-controlled car, he made his way up the stairs, replaying the conversation with the flower shop owner in his mind. He hoped the flowers would bring a smile to both your faces and help ease the tension of the morning. He took a deep breath before knocking on your door, the sound echoing softly in the early morning quiet. Moments later, the door opened to reveal you, a look of relief washing over your face as you saw Jongho standing there with flowers in his hand. 

"Jongho, you didn't have to—" you started, but he gently interrupted you. 

"I wanted to. For you," he said softly, handing you the bouquet. "I thought it might brighten your day a bit." 

You took the flowers, a smile spreading across your face. "I can't remember the last time someone got me flowers." You took the bouquet, your smile growing wider as you brought it to your nose and inhaled its fresh scent. The tension in your shoulders seemed to melt away, replaced by a sense of warmth and appreciation. "Thank you, this really means a lot to me," you said, your voice soft with emotion. 

Jongho felt his heart lighten at your response, a small smile playing on his lips. "Thank you for accepting them," Jongho replied, his voice filled with warmth. "I just wanted to make you smile." 

As you let him into the apartment, you noticed another bouquet in his hand and a big box under his arm. "What's all this?" you asked, curiosity piqued as you glanced at the items he was carrying. 

Jongho grinned, holding up the second bouquet. "This one is for Nari. I thought she might like some flowers too." He then gestured to the box. "And I brought her a little gift. It's a remote-controlled car. I hope she will like it." 

Your heart swelled with appreciation, and you couldn't help but smile at his thoughtfulness. "That's so sweet of you. She's going to love it." 

Jongho's grin widened, a sense of relief washing over him. "I'm just happy to spend time with her and make her day special." You led him inside, placing the flowers in a vase on the kitchen counter. 

"I will go and wake her up," you announced, turning towards her room. 

Jongho hesitated, a look of concern crossing his face. "Do you have to? It's still early," he said softly, his eyes glancing towards the clock on the wall. "I don't want to disrupt her sleep." 

"She might feel a little overwhelmed when she wakes up and I'm not here," you said, a touch of worry in your voice. "She's not used to waking up without me around, and I know it could be a bit disorienting for her." You paused for a moment, your eyes softening as you looked at Jongho. "If you will want to come over more often, then with time she will get used to waking up to you," you reassured him, your voice gentle and comforting. "It might take a little while, but children are adaptable. She'll come to expect and look forward to seeing you in the mornings. It will be a new routine for her, and routines can be very comforting for kids. Plus, having you around more often will help her feel more secure and loved." 

Jongho listened intently, feeling a sense of hope and determination growing within him. Your words were like a soothing balm to his worries, and he couldn't help but smile at the thought of becoming a consistent presence in Nari's life. "Thank you, Y/N," he said softly, his voice filled with gratitude. "That really means a lot to me. I'll do my best to be there for her, to be someone she can rely on." 

You nodded, your eyes meeting his with a look of understanding and support. "I know you will, Jongho. You're already doing a great job by being here today. Just take it one step at a time, and everything will fall into place." 

You went to Nari's room, the sight of her sleeping peacefully brought a warm smile to your face, but you knew that you had to wake her. "Sweetheart?" you called softly, your voice gentle as you reached out to gently brush her hair from her forehead. You kneeled beside her bed, your heart heavy with the knowledge that you were about to disrupt her peaceful slumber. "Nari, it's time to wake up," you whispered, your tone soothing and filled with love. You hated to wake her up, especially when she looked so serene, but you knew it was for the best. The day ahead was important, and you wanted to make sure she had time to adjust and feel comfortable with Jongho's presence. As Nari stirred and slowly opened her eyes, you gave her a reassuring smile. "Good morning, my little angel, I know it's early, but mommy needs to leave for work, and somebody special will keep you company today," you said softly, "I know you'll have a wonderful time together," you continued, giving her a reassuring smile. "He's looking forward to playing with you and making today really fun." 

Nari blinked sleepily, her eyes gradually focusing on you. "Who, mommy?" she asked, her voice still groggy from sleep. 

"It's Uncle Jongho, sweetie," you replied gently. "He's waiting with a special surprise just for you." Nari's eyes widened with curiosity and excitement, and she slowly sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Do you want to go together with mommy and see him?" you asked, your voice filled with warmth and encouragement. Nari nodded eagerly, her excitement growing at the prospect of seeing Jongho and the special surprise he had brought. Taking her small body in your arms, you took her to the living room where Jongho was waiting. The moment Nari saw the flowers and the box, her eyes lit up with wonder. "Look, Nari, Uncle Jongho brought you some flowers and a special gift," you said, your voice filled with warmth. 

Your daughter’s face broke into a wide smile as she looked at the flowers and the box. "For me?" she asked, her voice filled with delight. 

Jongho nodded, "Yes, for you, princess. I hope you like them," he said warmly, handing her the bouquet and the box. Nari took the flower in her tiny hand, her eyes lighting up with delight. She smiled brightly, then hid her face behind the bouquet, her giggle filling the living room with a sound as sweet as music. The sight of her joy was enough to melt anyone's heart, and it was clear that the flowers had made a wonderful impression. Her reaction brought a sense of warmth and accomplishment to Jongho, who watched her with a tender expression, feeling more determined than ever to make the day special for her. 

"Can Uncle give you a hug?" Jongho asked, his arms spread wide to welcome her tiny figure. Nari looked at him with big, curious eyes, her smile growing even wider. She hesitated for just a moment before nodding eagerly, you took a step closer to Jongho, so he could take her in his arms, and the second he did so, Nari wrapped her small hands around Jongho's neck. 

Jongho's heart melted as he gently hugged her back, feeling the warmth and innocence of her embrace. "Thank you, princess," he whispered softly, his voice filled with emotion. "I'm so happy to be here with you today." 

Nari giggled, her laughter like a sweet melody filling the room. "I'm happy too, Uncle Jongho!" she said, her voice bright with excitement. 

Jongho put her down, looking into her sparkling eyes. "We're going to have so much fun today, I promise," he said, his tone full of genuine eagerness. 

Nari's eyes lit up even more, the anticipation of the day's adventures evident on her face. "Okay! What are we going to do first?" she asked, her curiosity bubbling over. 

Jongho chuckled, glancing over at you with a grateful smile. "Well, we have a whole day ahead of us. How about we start with opening your special gift?" he suggested, pointing to the box with the remote-controlled car. 

"How about starting with breakfast?" you chimed in with a warm smile as you began to gather your belongings to leave. You glanced at Nari, who was still beaming from the excitement of seeing Jongho and her new gifts. 

"Mommy's right," Jongho agreed with a chuckle, smile ever leaving his face, "Let's have some breakfast first. We can open your special gift." 

Nari looked up at both of you, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Okay, Uncle Jongho!" she said eagerly, her small hands still clutching the bouquet of flowers he had given her. 

You nodded in agreement, your smile widening as you saw the bond beginning to form between Jongho and Nari. "Breakfast sounds like a great idea. How about some pancakes and fruit?" you suggested, knowing it was one of Nari's favorite meals. 

Jongho's eyes lit up at the idea. "Pancakes and fruits it is, then," he said enthusiastically. 

"Sweetheart, mommy is leaving, come give me a kiss," you called softly, bending down to Nari's level. Nari quickly ran over to you, her tiny arms wrapping around your neck as she planted a sweet kiss on your cheek. "I love you, mommy," she whispered, her voice filled with warmth. 

"I love you too, my little angel," you replied, hugging her tightly before standing up and giving Jongho a grateful smile. 

"I'm taking Nari to the studio later," Jongho reminded you, his voice gentle. "Do you have a child seat for her? I want to make sure she's safe and comfortable during the ride." 

You nodded, appreciating his thoughtfulness. "Yes, I have one in the closet. Let me get it for you," you replied, heading towards the closet to retrieve the seat. "Thank you for being so considerate, Jongho." 

Jongho smiled warmly, his eyes reflecting his genuine concern. "Of course, Y/N. I just want to make sure everything goes smoothly today." 

You handed him the child seat, feeling a sense of gratitude for his attentiveness. "Here it is. I know she'll be in good hands with you." 

Jongho took the seat from you, his expression one of determination and affection. "Thank you. We'll have a great time, I promise." 

"Take good care of her, Jongho. And have fun, you two." 

Jongho nodded, his heart swelling with determination and affection. "I will, Y/N. Don't worry, we'll have a great time." 

You gave them both one last smile before heading out the door, feeling a sense of peace knowing that Nari was in good hands. 

"So, would you like to help me with the pancakes?" Jongho smiled warmly at his little daughter, his eyes twinkling with excitement. He moved towards the kitchen, opening the shelves in search of a pan and a bowl. 

Nari's eyes lit up with enthusiasm, and she nodded eagerly. "Yes, Uncle Jongho! I love helping!" she exclaimed, her small hands clapping together in excitement. 

Jongho chuckled at her enthusiasm. "Great! Let's find everything we need first," he said, pulling out a pan and a large mixing bowl. He placed them on the counter and started to gather the ingredients: flour, eggs, milk, and a few other essentials. 

Nari watched him intently, her curiosity piqued. "Can I crack the eggs?" she asked, her voice filled with anticipation. 

Jongho smiled and nodded. "Of course, princess. Just be careful, okay?" he said, handing her an egg. He guided her little hands, helping her crack the egg into the bowl without making a mess. "Great job!" he praised, ruffling her hair gently. Nari beamed with pride, her cheeks flushing with happiness. As they continued working together, Jongho explained each step, making sure to keep Nari engaged and involved. They measured out the flour, poured the milk, and mixed everything together, creating a smooth batter. Nari's giggles filled the room as she helped stir, her enthusiasm infectious "You're a natural chef, Nari," Jongho said with a grin. "I couldn't have done this without you." 

Nari's eyes sparkled with joy. "This is so much fun!" 

Jongho felt a warm sense of accomplishment as he watched Nari's excitement. The kitchen was filled with the delicious aroma of pancakes cooking on the stove, and he couldn't help but feel grateful for this precious time with her. "All right let's flip these pancakes and get ready to eat," Jongho said, expertly turning the golden-brown pancakes. "I think we're going to have a delicious breakfast, thanks to you." 

Nari giggled, her eyes shining with pride. "I can't wait to eat them!" 

Jongho plated the pancakes and added a generous serving of fresh fruit on the side. As they sat down to eat, he couldn't help but smile at the sight of Nari's delighted expression. "How do you like them? Do they taste good?" Jongho asked, watching Nari take her first bite of the pancakes. 

Nari's eyes widened in delight as she chewed, and she quickly nodded, her mouth too full to speak. After swallowing, she grinned at Jongho. "They're yummy, Uncle Jongho! The best pancakes ever!" 

Jongho's heart swelled with pride and relief. "I'm so glad you like them, princess," he said, taking a bite himself. The pancakes were light and fluffy, with just the right amount of sweetness from the fresh fruit. They continued eating, the room filled with the happy sound of Nari's giggles and the clink of forks against plates. Jongho couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over him. This moment, this simple breakfast, was everything he had hoped for and more. 

Nari chewed on her pancakes, her legs dangling from the chair. She glanced around as if making sure no one else was listening, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. "Just don't tell Mommy I told you this," she giggled, leaning closer to Jongho. She cupped her small hand around her mouth to whisper, adding an air of secrecy to her words. "But your pancakes are better than Mommy's." 

Jongho couldn't help but chuckle at her adorable confession. "Oh, really?" he whispered back, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I promise I won't tell. It'll be our little secret." 

Nari nodded vigorously, her giggles filling the room. "Okay, Uncle Jongho. It's a secret!" she said, her voice a mix of excitement and delight, as if she had just shared the most important secret in the world. 

After they finished eating, Jongho helped Nari clean up the kitchen, turning the chore into a fun game. They washed the dishes together, Nari's laughter echoing through the apartment as she splashed water playfully. Once everything was clean, Jongho turned to Nari with a smile. "Ready to open your special gift now?" he asked, gesturing to the box with the remote-controlled car. 

Nari's eyes lit up with excitement. "Yes, please!" she squealed, bouncing on her toes. Jongho chuckled and led her to the sofa, where the box was waiting. He carefully helped her open it, revealing the shiny remote-controlled car inside. Nari's face lit up with pure joy as she examined the car, her fingers tracing over its sleek surface. 

"Wow, it's so cool!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with wonder. "It's my first car!" 

Jongho handed her the remote control. "Want to give it a try?" he asked with a grin. Nari eagerly took the remote, her small fingers gripping it tightly. With a little guidance from Jongho, she soon had the car zooming around the living room, her laughter filling the space as she chased it around. Jongho watched her with a smile, feeling a sense of fulfillment wash over him. This was what it was all about, creating these precious moments, building memories, and being there for her. As the car raced around the room, Nari's giggles were contagious, filling the apartment with joy. Jongho couldn't help but join in the fun, cheering her on and occasionally taking the remote to show her a few tricks. The morning flew by in a whirlwind of laughter and play, each moment more precious than the last. 

Jongho didn't notice the time passing untill his phone started to ring in his pocket. He picked it up, seeing Hongjoong calling him. "Hey, I heard from Wooyoung that you had a small emergency. Should we start the practice without you?" Hongjoong asked, his voice filled with concern. 

Jongho glanced at Nari, who was happily playing with her new toy. "Yeah, something came up," Jongho replied, "I'm taking care of Nari today. It's... it's really important." 

Hongjoong's tone softened. "I understand, she comes first. We can manage practice without you for today." 

"Thanks, hyung. I really appreciate it. But we'll be there as soon as we can. I just need to prepare Nari to leave, and then we will join you guys." 

"You sure you want to come today? It's fine if you want to skip and spend time with her." Hongjoong's voice was filled with understanding. 

"No, no, it's fine. Until I am not officially on hiatus, I want to continue with practices," Jongho insisted, determination evident in his tone. 

Hongjoong sighed but didn't push further. "Alright, Jongho. Just take your time and join us when you can." 

"Thanks, Hongjoong. I'll see you soon," Jongho said, hanging up the phone with a renewed sense of purpose. 

Jongho took a deep breath, glancing around the room for a moment before turning his attention back to Nari. "Alright, princess, we need to get ready to go out," he said gently, crouching down to her level. "We're going to meet the rest of the uncles today, what do you say?" 

Nari looked up at him with wide, curious eyes. "Really? Can I bring my car?" she asked, her excitement bubbling over. "Oh! Is Uncle Wooyoungie going to be there?!" she jumped from excitement, her eyes shining with anticipation. Nari's energetic reaction brought a warm smile to Jongho's face. He could see how much she adored Wooyoung, and the thought of seeing him made her even more enthusiastic. 

Jongho nodded, sharing her excitement. "Yes, Uncle Wooyoung will be there, along with the rest of the uncles. They're all looking forward to meeting you again," he said warmly. 

Nari's excitement was palpable as she started to bounce on her toes. "Yay! I can't wait to show Uncle Wooyoung my new car! He's going to love it!" She clutched the car tightly, her joy filling the room. 

Jongho chuckled, feeling a sense of pride and happiness. "I'm sure he'll be very impressed. Did you know that Uncle Wooyoung has a little brother who also likes cars?" Jongho mentioned, "Maybe you can play with him too sometime." 

Nari's eyes widened with excitement. "Really? That sounds fun! I can't wait to meet him!" she exclaimed, her enthusiasm growing even more. 

Jongho smiled, feeling a sense of warmth at her excitement. "I'm sure you'll get along great. Now, let's get ready and head out. We don't want to keep Uncle Wooyoung and the others waiting. Should I help you dress up?" Jongho asked gently, looking down at Nari with a warm smile. 

"Uncle, don't be silly! I'm a big girl, I can dress myself!" Nari replied with a confident smile, already running off to her room to pick out her outfit. 

Jongho chuckled, watching her with a proud smile. "Alright, princess. I'll be right here if you need any help," he called after her, feeling a sense of admiration for her independence. As Nari disappeared into her room, Jongho took a moment to tidy up the living room, making sure everything was in order before they left. He glanced at his phone, checking the time and mentally planning the rest of the day. 

He heard Nari's little steps running toward the living room, "Uncle Jongho, can you help me reach my shelf, please?" she asked, her voice filled with determination and a hint of impatience. 

Jongho looked up from tidying the living room, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Of course, princess. Let's see what we need to get from your shelf," he replied, following her. 

Nari led him to her bedroom, pointing excitedly at a high shelf where her favorite outfit was stored. "I want to wear my special, yellow dress today," she explained, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "It's up there, but I can't reach it." 

Jongho chuckled softly, appreciating her independence and enthusiasm. "No problem, Nari. Let's get that dress for you," he said, reaching up to grab the outfit. As he handed it to her, he couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for the little girl who had quickly found a special place in his heart. 

Nari took the dress from him with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Uncle! You're the best," she said, hugging the dress to her chest. "I can't wait to show everyone my special dress and my new car." 

Jongho's heart warmed at her words, and he ruffled her hair gently. "You're going to look beautiful, princess. Let's get you dressed and ready to go meet the uncles," he said, feeling a sense of pride and joy as he watched her excitement. Nari nodded eagerly, her smile widening as she hurried to put on her special dress. Jongho stood by, ready to assist if needed, "Can you show me where you keep your tights? It's a bit chilly outside, and we need to put them on," Jongho asked gently, looking down at Nari with a warm smile. 

Nari pointed to a drawer with a determined look. "They're in there," she said confidently. Jongho opened the drawer and Nari quickly found a pair of tights that matched her dress perfectly. "Good choice, princess, the bees on thighs will look pretty with the yellow dress" he complimented, taking her to his lap to help her put them on. "Now you're all set to go." 

"I need to pack my backpack," she smiled, her excitement evident. "And I need to put on my earrings," she continued, starting to count on her fingers with a look of determination. "We also need to make up my bed before leaving! Oh, and I can't forget my bunny," she added, glancing around the room as if mentally checking off each task. "There's so much left to do!" 

Jongho chuckled, appreciating her thoroughness. "Alright, princess," he said warmly, "let's tackle everything one step at a time. I'll help you with your bag first, then we can find your earrings and make your bed together. How does that sound?" 

Nari nodded eagerly, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "That sounds perfect!" she said, grabbing her small backpack from her desk and starting to fill it with her essentials. 

Jongho felt a swell of affection as he watched her diligently prepare for their outing. Firstly, Nari packed her crayons, and a coloring book. She looked around the room again to ensure she got all she wanted with her. "Let's make sure we have everything we need, and then we'll be ready to go on our adventure." Once Nari had packed her bag and put on her earrings, Jongho helped her make the bed, they worked together, laughing and chatting, and soon the room was neat and tidy. "All set, princess?" Jongho asked, giving her a warm smile. 

Nari nodded eagerly, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she handed Jongho her beloved stuffed toy, a soft, pink bunny that she affectionately called Woo. "Can you take Woo for me? And my bag? So, I can take my car with me," she asked, her voice filled with anticipation and trust. 

Jongho smiled warmly, taking the stuffed bunny and her small backpack. "Of course, princess. I'll take good care of Woo and your bag," he reassured her, his tone gentle and affectionate. He slung her bag over his shoulder and carefully cradled the stuffed bunny in his other arm. 

Nari beamed up at him, "Thank you, Uncle Jongho! I can't wait to show everyone my new car," she said, clutching the toy tightly in her small hands. The prospect of the day's adventures filled her with joy, and she could hardly contain her enthusiasm. 

Jongho chuckled softly, feeling a sense of pride and happiness as he watched her. "You're very welcome, Nari. Let's get going and show everyone just how amazing your new car is," he said, leading her towards the door. Jongho gathered both his and Nari's belongings, carefully organizing everything to ensure they had what they needed for the day. He then secured the child seat under one arm, while gently lifting Nari into his other arm. She wrapped her tiny arms tightly around his neck, her head resting against his shoulder. The warmth of her embrace filled him with a sense of peace and purpose. As he balanced the child seat and Nari, he couldn't help but chuckle to himself, silently thanking San for all those rigorous gym sessions that now made it easier to handle such moments. With everything in place, Jongho felt a renewed sense of determination and affection as they headed out, ready to embark on their adventure together.  

As they walked out of the apartment and headed towards the parking lot, Nari's cheerful chatter filled the air. She talked excitedly about all the things she wanted to do with her new car, her imagination running wild with possibilities. Jongho listened attentively, his heart swelling with affection for the little girl. "I bet Uncle Wooyoung is going to be so impressed," Nari said, her voice brimming with excitement. "I can't wait to see their faces when they see my car zoom around!" 

Jongho nodded, sharing her enthusiasm. "I'm sure they will be. Your car is cool, and I know they'll love it just as much as you do," he replied, his tone filled with warmth and encouragement. 

As Jongho approached the car, he struggled to figure out how to properly install the child seat. His hands fumbled with the straps, and he let out a frustrated sigh. Just then, he noticed a young man a few cars away, facing a similar challenge. The man was holding a small girl, who seemed to be around Nari's age, and had a tiny baby in a carrier strapped to his chest. Determined to get some help, Jongho decided to approach the man. "Excuse me?" he called out, his voice polite but tinged with urgency. "Could you help me with this child seat? I'm having a bit of trouble." 

The young man looked up from his own struggle, his face softening with understanding. "Sure thing, just give me a moment," he replied, shifting the baby carrier slightly to free one hand. He walked over to Jongho, his small daughter trailing behind him, and offered a reassuring smile. "These can be a real pain, can't they?" 

Jongho nodded, grateful for the assistance. "Absolutely. I appreciate your help," he said, stepping aside to give the man better access to the seat. As the young man expertly adjusted the straps and secured the child seat, Jongho couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration. "You've got your hands full," Jongho commented, nodding towards the baby and the little girl. 

The man chuckled softly, a hint of pride in his eyes. "Yeah, it's a bit hectic, but I wouldn't trade it for anything," he said warmly. "You'll get the hang of it. Just takes a bit of practice." 

Jongho smiled, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over him. "Thanks again. It means a lot," he said sincerely. 

"We dads need to help each other, right?" The guy smiled at him, and Jongho couldn't help but smile back, nodding gently. 

"Yeah, you're absolutely right," Jongho replied, feeling a sense of camaraderie. "It's nice to know there are other dads willing to lend a hand when you need it." 

The man adjusted the baby carrier on his chest and nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. Parenting can be challenging, but the love of your kids makes it all worthwhile." 

With the child seat now properly installed, he gave the man a grateful smile. "Thanks again. You've been a huge help," he said, feeling a sense of relief. 

The man waved it off with a kind smile. "No problem at all. Take care and have a great day with your little daughter," he replied, heading back to his own car. 

"Daughter?" Nari repeated the word, her big brown eyes looking up at Jongho, curiosity evident in her gaze. 

Jongho smiled gently, crouching down to her level. "Yes, princess. He thought you were my daughter," he explained softly, his eyes filled with warmth. "And in many ways, you are very special to me, just like a daughter." 

Nari's face lit up with a smile, and she wrapped her small arms around Jongho's neck. "I like that, Uncle Jongho," she said, her voice filled with affection. "Mommy told me I will meet my daddy soon, and I hope he will be just like you." 

Jongho's heart swelled with emotion at Nari's words. He gently held her tighter, feeling a deep sense of affection and responsibility. "Thank you, princess. That means a lot to me," he said softly, his voice filled with warmth. "I know your daddy will be wonderful, and until then, I'll always be here for you." 

Nari smiled brightly, her eyes sparkling with happiness. "You're the best," she said, her voice filled with certainty. Jongho felt a lump form in his throat as he looked at the little girl in his arms. He wished with all his heart that he could tell her right away, that he could let out the words he had been holding back. He longed to hear her call him daddy, to feel the warmth of that precious word fill the air between them. But he knew he couldn’t just tell her. Not yet. It wasn’t the right time, and he had to wait for the perfect moment to reveal the truth, no matter how much it pained him to keep it inside. With a deep breath, Jongho gently kissed Nari's forehead. 

He carefully placed Nari in her seat, ensuring that she was securely fastened. He double-checked the straps, making sure they were snug but comfortable. Once he was satisfied that everything was in place, he closed the car door gently and walked around to the driver's side. 

As he settled into the driver's seat, Jongho glanced back at Nari through the rearview mirror. "Are you comfortable, princess?" he asked, his voice filled with warmth and concern. 

Nari nodded eagerly, her eyes shining with excitement. "Yes, Uncle! I'm ready to go!" she replied, clutching her remote-controlled car tightly. 

Jongho smiled, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him. He started the car, "Alright, let's get going," he said, pulling out of the parking spot and heading towards their destination. As he began driving towards the studio, Jongho couldn't help but glance at Nari through the rearview mirror. She was happily playing with her car, her face full of joy and innocence. The sight filled him with a sense of determination. He wanted to make sure she always felt safe, loved, and cherished. Jongho’s playlist was playing softly in the background as he drove, the gentle hum of the engine and the music creating a peaceful atmosphere.  

Suddenly, an ATEEZ song began to play, and Nari's eyes widened with excitement. She sat up straighter in her seat, her face lighting up with recognition. "Uncle! It's your song! It’s Wave!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with joy and wonder. "Play it louder, please!" 

Jongho glanced back at her through the rearview mirror, a smile spreading across his face at her enthusiasm. "You like this song?" he asked, reaching for the volume knob. 

Nari nodded eagerly, her eyes sparkling. "Yes! I love it! ATEEZ are the best singers!" Feeling a swell of pride, Jongho turned up the volume, letting the familiar melody fill the car. As the music played, Nari began to sing along, her sweet voice mingling with the song. Jongho couldn't help but join in, his deep, melodic voice harmonizing with hers. The car was filled with the joyful sound of their singing, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world faded away. It was just the two of them, sharing this special moment together. Jongho felt a deep sense of contentment wash over him, grateful for the bond they started to create. 

As the song ended, Nari's laughter rang out, pure and happy. "That was so fun, Uncle Jongho! Can we sing more of your songs?" 

Jongho chuckled, his heart full. "Of course, princess. As many as you like. What's your favorite ATEEZ song?" Jongho asked, glancing back at her through the rearview mirror with a smile. 

Nari thought for a moment, her face lighting up. "I think it's Wonderland! It's so exciting and makes me want to dance!" she replied, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. 

Jongho chuckled, "That's a great choice, princess. Let's play Wonderland next, and we can sing together!" he said, reaching for the music system to queue up the song. 

"Or maybe you could sing Everything for me?" she suggested, her eyes wide with anticipation. "It's mommy's favorite, and I always sing it for her." Nari's voice was filled with a mixture of excitement and a hint of nostalgia, as if the song held a special place in her heart. 

Jongho's heart softened at her request, and he couldn't help but smile. "Of course, princess," he replied warmly. "I'd be honored to sing it for you." He adjusted the car's music system, finding the song and letting the soft melody fill the car. As Jongho sang the heartfelt lyrics, his voice was filled with deep emotion. Each word carried the weight of his memories and feelings for you. The song was a reminder of the love and connection you shared, making it both a beautiful and bittersweet experience. Jongho's voice trembled slightly as he conveyed the longing and regret expressed in the lyrics, yet also the enduring love that persisted despite the passage of time. Glancing back through the rearview mirror, Jongho saw Nari's eyes sparkling with joy as she listened intently. Her small hands were clasped together, cherishing every note. The sight filled him with a sense of purpose and determination. He wanted Nari to feel the depth of his emotions and understand just how much you, her mom, meant to him, and by extension, how much Nari herself was cherished and loved. 

When the song ended, Nari's eyes were shining with happiness. "Thank you, Uncle Jongho," she said softly, her voice filled with gratitude. "Mommy always says that Everything is the most beautiful song." 

Jongho could feel his eyes swelling up with tears, he blinked qucikly to get rid of them, worrying about how his little girl would react. "I'm glad Mommy thinks that" he replied, his voice tenderly. "Your mommy is special to me, and I'm happy she likes my solo song," Jongho said softly, his eyes filled with warmth and sincerity. 

Nari's eyes sparkled with curiosity and affection. "Mommy says your songs make her feel better when she's sad," she shared, her voice soft and earnest. "She always sings along with them, and it makes me happy too." 

Jongho's heart swelled with emotion at her words. "That means so much to me, Nari," he replied gently. "Music has a special way of connecting people and bringing joy, and I'm glad my songs can do that for you and your mommy. You both hold a very special place in my heart." 

As they continued their journey, Jongho felt a sense of peace settle over him. He cherished these moments with Nari, knowing that each one was building a deeper bond between them. The thought of seeing the rest of the members and sharing this special part of his life with them filled him with anticipation and warmth. 

They finally pulled into the studio parking lot, he parked the car and turned to Nari with a warm smile. "We're here, princess. Are you ready to meet Uncle Wooyoung and the others?" he asked, his voice filled with anticipation. 

Nari nodded eagerly, her eyes shining with excitement. "Yes! I can't wait!" she replied, clutching her car tightly. 

Jongho was about to leave the car when he noticed a few fans taking pictures of the KQ building. As his car came into view, it ignited a ripple of excitement among the fans, their expressions lighting up with anticipation. They craned their necks and murmured to each other, clearly eager to see which member of ATEEZ had arrived. Jongho took a deep breath, feeling a mix of gratitude and responsibility. He knew that these fans were part of the reason why he and the group had come so far. But they couldn't have picked a worse time to be here. He sighed deeply, contemplating his limited options. Staying in the car any longer would only raise suspicion among the fans, who were already buzzing with excitement and anticipation. They would undoubtedly start to wonder what was taking him so long to get out. The last thing he wanted was to draw unnecessary attention to himself and, more importantly, to Nari. Taking her inside with him was out of the question. The moment one of the fans snapped a picture, it would spread like wildfire across social media, sparking rumors and causing a scandal right away. Jongho knew he had to be cautious. The privacy and safety of Nari were paramount, and he couldn't risk exposing her to the public eye in such an unplanned manner. He glanced back at Nari, who was clutching her toy with wide eyes, clearly sensing the tension in the air. Jongho's mind raced as he tried to come up with a solution. He needed to find a way to get inside without attracting too much attention and without putting Nari in the spotlight. He took a deep breath, his mind working quickly to formulate a plan. He considered calling one of the other members for assistance, but that would take time and might still draw attention. He needed a distraction, something to divert the fans' focus away from the car long enough for him to safely get Nari inside. As he weighed his options, Jongho's phone buzzed with a message. It was from San, asking if he had arrived yet. A spark of hope ignited within him. Maybe, just maybe, San could help create a diversion. Jongho quickly typed a response, explaining the situation and asking for his help. Within moments, San replied with a plan. He would come out and engage with the fans, drawing their attention while Jongho made his way inside with Nari. It wasn't foolproof, but it was the best option they had. 

Jongho looked back at Nari, giving her a reassuring smile. "Alright, princess, we're going to need a little help from Uncle San. Just hug me tightly, and everything will be fine," he said gently, his voice filled with determination and warmth. Nari nodded, her trust in him unwavering. Jongho felt a surge of affection and responsibility as he prepared to put their plan into action. He waited for San's signal, ready to move swiftly and protectively. 

As San stepped out of the building and greeted the fans with his usual charm, Jongho saw his opportunity. He carefully unbuckled Nari from her seat, lifting her into his arms. With her stuffed animal in one hand and Nari securely in the other, Jongho quietly exited the vehicle, keeping his movements smooth and deliberate. San’s presence had the desired effect. The fans were momentarily distracted, their attention fully captured by the charismatic idol. Jongho moved swiftly but calmly, making his way towards the entrance with Nari held close to his chest. She wrapped her tiny arms around his neck, her face nestled against his neck, trusting him completely. They reached the entrance without incident, slipping inside the building just as the fans began to realize what was happening. Jongho breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for San’s quick thinking and support. He looked down at Nari, who was gazing up at him with wide, trusting eyes. 

"Good job, princess," Jongho whispered, his voice filled with both relief and pride. Nari nodded, a small smile forming on her lips. Jongho knew he still had to be cautious, but for now, they had successfully navigated a potentially risky situation. He felt a renewed sense of determination to protect Nari and ensure that she always felt safe and loved. As they made their way deeper into the building, Jongho couldn't help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for San’s support. He sent a quick text to San, thanking him for the help and letting him know they had made it inside safely. San replied with a thumbs-up emoji and a promise to join them soon. With a sigh of relief, Jongho carried Nari through the familiar hallways of the headquarters, her small arms still wrapped around his neck. They reached the practice room where the rest of the ATEEZ members were gathered, eagerly awaiting their arrival. 

[merwgue]

The idea of Nyx and Tamlin becoming mates in a platonic, parental sense is an incredibly profound and heartwarming twist. It redefines what it means to be a mate—showing that the deepest connections aren’t always romantic but can also be based on trust, care, and the unconditional love found in parental relationships.

Imagine Nyx, the child of two deeply traumatized and distracted parents—Feyre and Rhysand. Despite their best efforts, they rush into parenthood for all the wrong reasons, feeling the pressure of impending danger and the belief that time is running out. They're powerful, yes, but so burdened by their past that they can’t give Nyx the love and attention he needs to thrive. They try to be present, but emotional neglect slowly seeps in, leaving Nyx feeling alone, unloved, and desperate for connection. They compensate with material things, but it’s not enough. Nyx is still just a boy, craving someone who will truly see him.

At around ten years old, in an attempt to make his parents notice him, Nyx starts sneaking off to the Spring Court. What begins as an act of rebellion turns into something entirely unexpected. Tamlin—who has been broken, hollow, and struggling to rebuild his life—finds this small, vulnerable boy suddenly seeking him out. At first, Tamlin is hesitant. He’s never been good with children. He doesn’t know how to connect, especially not after all the devastation he’s been through. But slowly, Nyx keeps coming back, visiting him again and again. Tamlin begins to open up, maybe not in grand gestures, but in small acts of kindness—offering Nyx a safe space, listening when he speaks, giving him attention that’s not laced with expectation or distraction.

As the months pass, something shifts. Nyx starts to see Tamlin not as the feared High Lord of the Spring Court, but as someone who cares for him in a way that his own parents cannot. He finds solace in Tamlin’s presence, and Tamlin, in turn, finds a sense of purpose in looking after Nyx. It’s not about power or obligation—it’s simply about being there for this boy who so clearly needs a father figure. Tamlin never asked to be a father, but he can’t ignore the bond that’s quietly forming between them.

Then one day, after countless visits, Nyx accidentally calls Tamlin “papa.” It slips out in a moment of vulnerability, perhaps after a particularly rough day back at home. Immediately, Nyx freezes, terrified of how Tamlin might react. He starts to apologize, stumbling over his words, thinking he’s crossed a line. But instead of pulling away, Tamlin wraps him in a hug, a genuine, comforting embrace, and quietly says, “If you want me to, I will.” And in that moment, everything shifts.

The world seems to stop for both of them. The bond that snaps into place isn’t the romantic mating bond we’re used to seeing—it’s something entirely different. It’s a bond built on trust, on care, on the love of a protector for a child who needs him. It’s a parental bond, the kind that says, I will be here for you, always. I will keep you safe. I will love you like my own.

Nyx finally feels seen, finally feels loved in a way that’s not forced or transactional. And Tamlin, who has been so lost and broken, finds a new sense of purpose. He never expected to be anyone’s father, but in that moment, he becomes one—not because of blood or obligation, but because of the bond that has formed between him and this boy. Nyx starts calling him "papa," and Tamlin, despite all his fears, accepts it with open arms.

This is why Sarah J. Maas should expand the idea of mates beyond just romantic connections. Mates should be about completing each other’s souls, in whatever form that takes. For Nyx and Tamlin, it’s not about romantic love—it’s about the love between a father and a child, a love that grows naturally and beautifully out of shared understanding, trust, and care. And in the end, it’s this bond that brings healing to both of them.

[lostberet]

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ MOB DAYCARE CHAP. I | min yoongi (m)

𐙚 synopsis: After almost meeting Satan himself, Agust D is forced to take a hiatus from his underwork mob work. However, during his hiatus, he is stumbled upon a 4 year old. And so far, being a guardian is harder than being a mob leader.

༘⋆ genre: explicit (18+) ; angst , humor, romance , violence, suspense , smut ; haegeum au , gang au , parenthood au .

༘⋆ disclaimer: Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Child Abuse, eventual smut, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

༘⋆ a/note: omg.. I am back with this chapter, and I am so excited to write this series━ I'll go work on Heartburn now... :( likes and reposts are appreciated <3 also name ideas for the kid?

TEASER | NEXT

The rule of this world is━ “The strong is King.” Those who follow this rule, fight each other in order to obtain a title. 

A few years ago, a man single-handedly fought through the ice, breaking and reaching its highest point. Those who feared him gave him a title━ Agust D, the Panther King. 

Yoongi sighed, his eyes staring into the white void of his living-room ceiling. He was once who they called Agust D. He would have still been Agust D if it weren’t for that fateful night.

Agust gasped for air, his teeth sucking back his lower lip into a tight bite. His left eye clenched shut as blood dripped down his face. He was bloody, although he wished to say the blood wasn’t his, he would be lying. His dark hair fell to his shoulders, some of it sticking to his face by the sweat and blood. With a trembling form, he made his way into the apartment, dropping his weapon on the floor. Each step he took left a small trial of blood behind him. He was tired, so tired.

Yoongi blinked, erasing the memory from his vision as he clenched his jaw. Why the past..? He thought to himself before sitting on the couch and looking at the carpet where a 4-year-old boy lay. He remembered bringing the kid into his home, he weighed almost nothing.  

Frowning at the unusual behavior of the kid, Yoongi eyed him as it slept. “Something isn’t right..” he whispered, his tongue pressing gently on his bottom lip. He snapped his fingers, an idea coming to his brain. He grabbed the nearby blanket lying on the sofa, before clumsily laying it on the kid. “Perfect.” 

The bathroom mirror was foggy, and the humidity made Yoongi sweat slightly as he dried the kid's hair. The toddler had overgrown hair that almost made him look wild. Yoongi had taken mental notes on the kid's poor hygiene, adding to his theory of the child kidnapping. Not having any child-sized clothing, the gangster had given one of his own shirts for the toddler to wear. A black shirt with the words "MINE" graphed vertically. As the older man dried the head of the kid, the child would mutter out random vocals. Frowning at the confusion vocal, Yoongi removed the towel from the kid's head, causing the kid to loop at him with a bright smile.

“You.. brat━!” Yoongi flinched as he bit back a cuss, lifting his arm up, his eyes noticing the multiple bites on his arm, “was your birth year the year of the dog?!” Yoongi exclaimed, his body trembling in desperation. Another thing Yoongi had noticed was the kid's inability to show proper manners. No matter how hard Yoongi glared at the kid, the kid only looked up at him, giving him a grin and a giggle.

As they both sat in the living room, the child freshly showered and not smelling like trash, traced his fingers on the black leather of the couch, “Since you can’t speak for nish━” Yoongi grunted as he sat next to the kid, scooping some cereal into the spoon, “I bet you don’t know how to use utensils. Come here,” The toddler tilted his head as he opened his mouth, allowing Yoongi to feed him the cereal, “You don’t look like you were raised at all..” Yoongi voiced his thoughts, the child looking at the bowl as Yoongi continued feeding him.

If it was a kidnapping.. And I send this kid away.. What if he doesn’t have a family? Will he then be an orphan? Yoongi physically yelped at the thought, “Not my problem!” His voice came out louder than expected, causing the kid to look up at him. Agust D had no time for anyone, let alone a fucking child. Deep in his own thoughts, the kid wasted no time poorly grabbing the spoon, scooping cereal ( the scoop facing down and getting little to nothing), and bringing it to Yoongi’s mouth, “ah.. Ah?” 

Is this kid trying to feed me? Yoongi raised an eyebrow, damn kid doesn't even know how to hold a spoon.. let alone be able to survive on its own━ not like i care. The gangster scuffed, wiping some of the milk from the kid's chin, earning a bright smile that only caused Yoongi’s heart to clench, this child was stabbing his consciousness. 

Yoongi threw his head back against the headboard of the bed, his body tingling, "oh.. fuck.." He choked out, his hands caressing the back, hands gripping onto the waist. His hips automatically thrust upwards earning a moan, "sir.." the voice whimpered.

The gangster narrowed his eyes, frowning his brows at the nickname, "I told you not to call me that, especially when we're having sex." He warned, yet his hips didn't lose their pace. He held onto their jaw, making them lock eyes with him, "you know my name,.. say it.." a hint of desperation in his voice as the other only pushed their lips and let out another whimper.

Yoongi leaned in, tilting their head to the side by their jaw, kissing their collarbones, sending a shiver down the spine, "c'mon, baby.. you know my name..' his voice was sweet, but his thrusts were becoming much more rougher, causing the other to grunt out, "or do you want me to fuck you until you remember it?" Yoongi asked, brushing his lips against their neck.

"Fuck.. yoongi,.." they gasped out, their hips buckling causing Yoongi to chuckle, "There you go.. always so good for me.." The mafia leader only pulled their face towards him, slamming his lips onto the other as he roughly kissed them. The kiss muffled both their moans and pants, not wanting to stop the kiss. They sucked and bit each other's lips, addicted to each other's lips.

Yoongi pulled the body close to his chest, feeling the other snuggle onto their skin, warmth hugging his heart. "You cannot leave me, understand?" Yoongi warned, making the other chuckle, "you wund me, sir." Yoongi's eye twitched. Noticing this, the other's hands cupped his face, placing a kiss on his scared eye, "you know that won't ever happen."

Yoongi's eyes opened and with a gasp, he rose from the couch. The clock had struck 3 am, and from what Yoongi could gather, it didn’t take long for the kid to fall asleep. Just a nightmare.

The man groaned, rubbing his face with both hands as he licked his dry lips. His gaze landed on the kid sleeping at the other end of the couch.

That's when your phone rang. You looked away from the never-ending document on your laptop, frowning at the unknown number on the screen you bit the inside of your cheek. After a few rings, you picked your phone up, “Hello?” 

There was silence on the other line, before that raspy voice said your name, you felt your body freeze, your heart pumping faster, “I made it clear that I want nothing to do with you.” There was silence on the other line once more before you heard a faint 'clank', “It’s important, plus, I already made arrangements with Namjoon, you’re coming whether you like it or not.” 

You could have disobeyed, you could have not shown up in the morning, really, but you were in no mood to deal with Namjoon and his scolding. His never-ending rants of how, even as your boss, he also needs favors. Yoongi was like a brother to him, the one that was able to make everyone's dream a reality and in return, they did whatever they could for him. Bunch of ass kissers you would tell yourself. Yet you found yourself dropping the bags onto Yoongi’s wooden floor, all the color being drained from your face. 

You tried to speak, confused and flabbergasted by the sight upon you. But what can you say after meeting the man you had decided to leave 3 years ago? The one guy you verbally told was a quote-on-quote dickhead that only cared about himself and then you quit on the spot, only to work under Namjoon, the guy he was closest with? You only eyed his back, noticing the way he cut the kid’s hair. 

“Y━you have a kid?!” Your ears might have started to bleed, a ringing remaining as you angrily turned to look at the owner of the pain, “Taehyung━ you son of a━ My ear!” You hissed as you reached over to grab a chunk of his hair. 

Yoongi turned to look at the small group who had entered his home, ignoring the small hairpulling between you and Taehyung. Yoongi only shook his head as he explained the situation to the others. 

“So.. that’s not your kid?” Jimin asked, his hand lazily signaling the child, “nonsense,” Yoongi muttered, picking up his cup of coffee SeokJin had placed in front of him on the kitchen table, his eyes glancing over at you, rubbing your head while glaring at Taehyung, “Jungkook and Hoseok are looking into where he’s from.”

“Yeah, Agust wouldn’t have a child this fast.” You stated, Yoongi’s ears twitched, all your attention on the kid who has sleepily rubbed his eyes and walked over to Yoongi, “What will you do with him for the time being?” 

“Sexist..” you said under your breath, making SeokJin abandon his cooking and turn to you in a snap, “untrue, Yoongi just needs help for the time being━” Now it was you snapping towards SeokJin, “raising a damn child!” 

The older one pushed his lips together, “sexist.” Taehyung stated once more, a small smirk on his lips as he winked at you, causing you to flip him off as you carried the child, feeding him some overnight oats. 

As SeokJin, Taehyung, and you stayed in the kitchen, bickering at each other, Yoongi was outside on the balcony of his living room. Holding a pocket knife, his fingers tracing over his initials, NamJoon and Jimin behind him, “Hyung, about the kid..” Jimin started, nervously elbowing NamJoon, “It’s just.. If they have eyes on the kid like last time..”

Yoongi bit the inside of his cheek, stabbing the knife into the wooden balcony railing. Jimin flinched, NamJoon placed his hand on Jimin’s shoulder signaling to head back inside, “We’ll take care of everything, hyung.” 

Drops of blood stained the cement floor, there was tension in the air, and all Agust could do was kneel before his rival, “You finally show up,” The rival chuckled, one of his hands gripping the hair of a child, eyes blindfolded by a black fold. The kid looked beaten, scared, “If you want me to let him go.. Let’s make a deal.” 

The rival threw a blade towards Agust, causing the man’s brows to frown. He was desperate. Agust felt his body tremble, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he picked the blade up, raising it slowly towards his stomach area. Slowly, ever so slowly, pressing the blade into his skin. 

Yoongi’s body jerked, causing him to wake from his dream, “shit..” he whispered, his hand flying to his stomach, rubbing it as the dream reminded him of the incident. He licked his dry lips, before sitting up on the bed. 

He entered the kitchen, his eyes staring at the cup of water━ besides him, his phone with your contact ready━on the floor, the 4 year old bounced and played between his legs. Yoongi bit his lower lip before he grabbed the kid and sat him on the counter, grabbing his phone and calling you before shoving the electronic onto the kid’s hands.

The phone rang a few times before you picked up, your voice grumpy and sleepy, “yes?” Yoongi looked at the kid and pointed at the phone, suddenly forgetting the child’s inability to speak. Confused━ the kid tilted his head, “m. ah.. ma..ma?” mostly dedicated towards Yoongi, the child called out. It caused you to sit up from your bed and run to get your shoes, “kid?” 

You barged into the mountain mansion, not bothering to knock as you slammed the door shut and ran to the living room, “Kid?!” You scanned for the kid, not finding him anywhere before your legs automatically ran to the bedrooms. 

Upon opening door by door, having each bedroom memorized (not by your own good), you arrived at Yoongi’s. Your hand reached over to the doorknob, it wasn’t like it was your first time you’ve stepped inside.  

Upon entering, you notice Yoongi and the kid sleeping. The child lay on top of the gangster, as the gangster himself had his arms wrapped around the child, almost using him as a teddy bear. You gulped, stepping out the room and slowly closing the door, “Y/n?” 

You froze, “yes, sir?” a grunt, “don’t call me that.” You scuff, “..kid butt-dialed me.. I’ll head home now.” The bed creaked and footsteps soon followed, the bedroom door opening━ revealing Yoongi, a sleepy look on his face with the sleeping child in his arms, “Stay the night. It's late.” 

You only stared at him, unsure of what to do, so you frowned and shook your head, “No. I can’t do that anymore.” 

Yoongi only pressed his cheek on top of the kid's head, sleepy eyes staring down at you. if only he didn't look as innocent, “not for me━ for the kid.” 

It left a bitter taste in your mouth. The fact you laid next to Yoongi as he slept, the child curling up on him and Yoongi letting him. Or the fact that you once craved that feeling, one that you couldn’t have━ a feeling of warmth, he knew that.  And so, you swallowed back the bitterness and closed your eyes. Tomorrow is a new day.

Tag-list building..: @sol3chu

2024 © LOSTBERET, all rights reserved. please do not copy, plagiarize, translate, repost, or steal my work.

[boytumms]

Have been on a fantasy kick and thinking of scenarios in my head all the time, and here's one just for fun!

A powerful mage guy, young and attractive and absolutely full of himself, fucks a noble at a social event to forge an alliance, but soon realizes that he's now pregnant. It's a very inconvenient time for him, he doesn't want to deal with a pregnancy right now, but getting rid of it feels wasteful, since there are ways he could use it to his advantage later on - thus, he decides to use magic and slow down his pregnancy significantly, essentially freezing it in the same spot for as long as he can. He casts the spell after the morning sickness finally passes (wouldn't want to be stuck with that for years!), and by that time, he's on month four, has a small delicate bump that's easy to conceal with clothing or explain away as just some intestinal bloating, and the baby is already kicking.

Since mages have very long lifespans, he easily spends the next few decades or so in this state: stomach uncomfortably swollen but not obviously so, hormones and mood swings and cravings being in full swing, and the baby constantly reminding him of his condition by kicking and turning in his tummy, sometimes visibly so, much to his embarrassment (having to explain it with a very upset stomach every time can get old fast). Overall, he's uncomfortable but not deadly so, and the anxiety of looming parenthood, along with the embarassment over his condition, is too strong for him to finally lift the spell and let the pregnancy continue. Eventually, he gets used to it, and having the baby as his constant companion feels comforting in a way...

Until one day, the mage exhausts all of his magic during a duel or by casting an extra complex spell, and the magic that was being used to freeze the pregnancy is no longer there. Two things can happen: either he doesn't notice it until his stomach begins growing more and more every day and resigns to his fate, knowing full well that he won't recover enough magic in the few months he has left before the birth, or the baby rapidly grows in his womb and is born within hours, stretching the skin, the poor mage's insides and the opening it's going to be pushed through. Either way, he'll have a lot of explaining to do, especially if the nobleman daddy is now in his old age and has no other heirs...

oo or what if the baby rapidly grows to whatever age it's been in his belly for? Either it grows into a fully adult human, or just grows into an adult sized baby. Either way, when his magic runs out, his belly explodes with growth as his pregnancy rapidly catches after being frozen in time for decades. His belly goes from being just a barely noticeable bump to nine months to overdue in moments, painfully stretching his skin as the baby swells inside him.

He screams in pain, panicking as he clutches his tummy trying to contain the swelling, but he has no mana left, leaving him completely helpless as he watches his belly stretch out in front of him. It bursts out of his robes, exposing the tight red skin, now laced with dark angry stretchmarks.

He desperately searches his home for any source of many, mana herbs or potions he can use to stop or slow the growth, but the rapidly increasing weight is making it harder and harder to move. He's stumbling as he holds his swelling tummy, leaning on the walls for support and crying in pain while the baby kicks and squirms inside. It's quickly getting more and more powerful as it grows, almost like it's trying to break its way out of him.

He can feel his skin creaking, nearing its limit and struggling to contain its heavy load. Fear fills his chest as he frantically searches his home, belly so heavy now that he's forced to crawl on the ground, tummy dragging on the floor below him. His womb can't hold on much longer if he doesn't find a mana source soon, and he can already feel the fibres of his taut flesh beginning to snap...

[callsigns-haze]

B-but...shhhh

Pairing: Cassian x reader Warning: Contains explicit scenes of intimacy and strong language. Summary: In the passionate aftermath of Solstice celebrations, Cassian and Y/N's intimate connection deepens as they embrace the prospect of parenthood together but not everything happens so quick.

As Y/N rose from the bed, a sense of unease settled in the pit of her stomach. It had been a few months since she and Cassian had made the decision to try for a baby, but so far, there had been no sign of success. Despite their best efforts and unwavering determination, the longing for a child remained unfulfilled, casting a shadow over their once-hopeful hearts.

As she moved through the empty chambers, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of loneliness that engulfed her. Their schedules had become increasingly demanding in recent months, leaving little time for the intimate moments and shared connections that had once been the foundation of their relationship.

With a heavy sigh, Y/N made her way through the halls of the bustling castle, her thoughts consumed by worries and doubts. Had they been too hasty in their decision? Was it possible that they were simply not meant to have a child together?

But even as the doubts gnawed at her, Y/N couldn't suppress the flicker of hope that remained in her heart. She knew that she and Cassian were meant to be parents, that their love was strong enough to weather any storm. And no matter how difficult the journey might be, she refused to give up on their dream of starting a family together.

As Y/N made her way down the hall, lost in her thoughts and worries, she didn't notice the figure approaching until it was too late. With a sudden jolt, she collided with Rhysand, nearly stumbling backward from the impact.

"Y/N, are you alright?" Rhysand asked, his concern evident in his voice as he reached out to steady her.

But Y/N couldn't find the words to respond. The weight of her worries felt like a heavy burden pressing down on her chest, leaving her speechless and unable to articulate the turmoil that churned within her.

For a moment, she simply stood there, her gaze fixed on the floor as she struggled to compose herself. The silence stretched between them, filled with unspoken questions and unanswered fears.

But then, without a word, Y/N straightened her shoulders and took a step back, her eyes meeting Rhysand's with a steely determination. With a silent nod of gratitude, she continued on her way, her footsteps echoing down the hall as she disappeared around the corner.

Rhysand watched her go, his heart heavy with concern for his friend. He knew that something was troubling her, something deep and profound that she was not yet ready to share. But he also knew that she was strong, stronger than she gave herself credit for, and that whatever challenges lay ahead, she would face them with the same courage and resilience that had always defined her.

With a silent vow to be there for her whenever she needed him, Rhysand turned and continued on his own way, his thoughts consumed by the worries of those he held most dear. And as he disappeared around the corner, the halls of the castle fell into a heavy silence, the weight of unanswered questions hanging in the air like a shroud.

---

As Cassian stepped into the training ring, his muscles tense and his mind heavy with the weight of expectations, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at his core. Recent days had been filled with an unrelenting pressure, a burden that seemed to grow heavier with each passing moment.

Azriel, his sparring partner and brother-in-arms, watched him with a keen gaze, his expression unreadable as they circled each other in the center of the ring. There was a tension in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the stakes that hung between them.

With a silent nod, they lunged forward, their swords clashing with a resounding clang as they engaged in a fierce battle of skill and strength. But despite Cassian's best efforts, he found himself struggling to keep up, his movements sluggish and his strikes faltering under the weight of his doubts.

With each spar, he felt the pressure mounting, the weight of expectation crushing him beneath its relentless weight. It seemed that no matter how hard he tried, he could not shake the feeling of inadequacy that plagued him, the fear that he was failing those who relied on him most.

And as the final blow landed, sending Cassian crashing to the ground in defeat, he couldn't help but feel the sting of failure burning hot in his chest. Azriel offered him a hand up, his gaze filled with understanding and compassion, but even the comfort of his brother's presence could not dispel the shadows of doubt that lingered in Cassian's mind.

As he left the training ring, the weight of his failures heavy upon his shoulders, Cassian knew that he had to find a way to overcome the doubts that threatened to consume him. He had to find a way to rise above the pressure, to reclaim the strength and courage that had always been his greatest assets.

For he knew that the battles they faced were far from over, and that only by facing his fears head-on could he hope to emerge victorious. And with that thought in mind, he squared his shoulders and set out to conquer the demons that lurked within, determined to prove to himself and to those he loved that he was worthy of their faith and trust.

As Cassian lingered in the aftermath of his defeat, lost in the whirlwind of his thoughts and emotions, he sensed Azriel's approach before he even saw him. The Shadowsinger's presence was as silent as the night itself, his footsteps a mere whisper against the stone floor of the training grounds.

With a heavy sigh, Cassian turned to face his friend, the weight of his failures evident in the slump of his shoulders and the weariness in his eyes. Azriel regarded him with a silent understanding, his expression a mirror of the concern that gnawed at Cassian's heart.

"What's eating you, brother?" Azriel asked quietly, his voice a gentle murmur in the stillness of the training grounds.

Cassian hesitated for a moment, the words catching in his throat as he struggled to articulate the turmoil that churned within him. But then, with a resigned sigh, he shook his head, the weight of his burdens too heavy to bear alone.

"It's… it's everything, Az," he admitted, his voice tinged with frustration and self-doubt. "The pressure, the expectations… I feel like I'm drowning in it all."

Azriel's gaze softened with sympathy, his hand reaching out to clasp Cassian's shoulder in a gesture of solidarity. "You're not alone in this, Cass," he reassured him, his voice filled with unwavering support. "We're all feeling the weight of it, but you don't have to carry it alone."

Cassian nodded, a flicker of gratitude warming his heart at the reminder of the bonds that bound them together. "I know," he replied, his voice steadier now, fortified by the strength of his friend's presence. "It's just… hard, you know?"

Azriel nodded in understanding, his gaze unwavering as he met Cassian's eyes with a look of quiet determination. "We'll get through this together," he promised, his words a beacon of hope in the darkness that threatened to consume them. "No matter what challenges lie ahead, we'll face them as brothers, side by side."

Cassian's admission hung heavy in the air, his vulnerabilities laid bare before his friend. Azriel's concern deepened at the mention of Y/N, realizing the full extent of Cassian's inner turmoil. He reached out, resting a hand on Cassian's arm, his expression softening with empathy.

"It's about Y/N too, isn't it?" Azriel's voice was gentle, a soothing balm to Cassian's troubled mind.

Cassian nodded, his gaze dropping to the ground as he wrestled with the weight of his emotions. "Yes," he admitted, the word heavy on his tongue. "I want nothing more than to give her the family we've always dreamed of, but…" His voice trailed off, the unspoken fears lingering between them like shadows in the night.

Azriel squeezed his arm in silent understanding, offering a wordless gesture of solidarity. "You love her, Cass," he said softly, his voice filled with unwavering conviction. "And she loves you. Whatever challenges you face, whatever obstacles stand in your way, you'll overcome them together."

Cassian met Azriel's gaze, gratitude shining in his eyes for the unwavering support of his friend. "Thank you, Az," he said sincerely, the weight of his burdens feeling a little lighter with each word. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Azriel offered him a small, reassuring smile. "You'll never have to find out," he replied, his voice filled with quiet determination. "We're in this together, Cass. Always."

And as they stood together in the fading light of the training grounds, the bonds of friendship that bound them grew stronger, fortified by the shared trials and tribulations they faced as warriors and brothers. For in the depths of their connection, they found solace, strength, and the unwavering support of those who would stand by their side through even the darkest of nights.

As Rhysand materialized before them, his sudden appearance causing a ripple of surprise in the quiet of the training grounds, Cassian's confusion deepened at his friend's question. He exchanged a puzzled glance with Azriel before turning his attention back to Rhysand, his brow furrowed with concern.

"Y/N? Why wouldn't she be okay?" Cassian's voice held a note of uncertainty, his mind racing with a thousand questions and fears.

Rhysand's expression was grave, a shadow passing over his features as he regarded Cassian with a solemn intensity. "I sensed something… off," he explained, his voice tinged with worry. "I wanted to make sure she's alright."

Cassian's heart clenched at the implication of Rhysand's words, a wave of apprehension washing over him as he considered the possibility of Y/N being in danger. "We haven't spoken much today," he admitted, his voice tight with concern. "But she seemed fine when I last saw her."

Azriel's gaze flickered between them, his own worry evident in the furrow of his brow. "Do you want us to check on her?" he offered, his voice steady despite the undercurrent of tension that lingered in the air.

Rhysand nodded, his expression grave. "Yes, please," he replied, his tone serious. "We can't afford to take any chances."

---

With a sense of urgency propelling him forward, Cassian wasted no time. He spread his wings wide and leaped into the air, the powerful muscles in his back propelling him upwards with effortless grace. As he soared through the sky, the wind whipping past him, his thoughts raced ahead to Y/N, his heart heavy with worry.

It didn't take long for him to reach her workspace, his keen eyes scanning the area below for any sign of trouble. With a swift descent, he landed gracefully in the courtyard, his wings folding neatly against his back as he surveyed his surroundings.

There, amidst the bustling activity of the workshop, he spotted Y/N, her figure bent over a workbench as she tinkered with a delicate piece of machinery. Relief flooded through him at the sight of her, his heart swelling with love for the woman who held his heart in her hands.

"Y/N!" he called out, his voice cutting through the din of the workshop as he made his way towards her. "Are you alright?"

Y/N looked up, surprise flickering across her features at the sight of him. "Cassian?" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with confusion. "What are you doing here?"

Cassian reached her side in a few quick strides, his eyes searching hers for any sign of distress. "Rhys sensed something… off," he explained, his voice tight with concern. "We wanted to make sure you're okay."

Y/N's confusion melted away at the concern in his eyes, replaced by a warmth that spread through her chest like wildfire. "I'm fine, Cassian," she reassured him, her voice soft. "Just caught up in my work, that's all."

Despite Y/N's reassurances, Cassian couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at his gut. He had learned to trust his instincts over the years, honed by countless battles and harrowing experiences. And right now, his instincts were screaming at him that something wasn't right.

"C'mon, Y/N," Cassian said, his voice gentle but firm as he held her gaze with an unwavering intensity. "I know you well enough to know when something's bothering you. Please, don't try to brush this off."

Y/N's expression faltered at the resolve in his eyes, her facade crumbling under the weight of his scrutiny. She let out a weary sigh, her shoulders slumping as she finally relented.

"I… I've just been feeling overwhelmed lately," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "With work, with… everything."

Cassian's heart clenched at the vulnerability in her voice, his arms tightening around her in a protective embrace. "You don't have to carry that weight alone, Y/N," he murmured, his voice soft but determined. "We're in this together, remember?"

Y/N nodded, tears shimmering in her eyes as she leaned into his embrace. "I know," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "I just… I'm scared, Cassian. Scared that I'm not strong enough, not good enough."

Cassian brushed away her tears with a gentle touch, his heart aching at the sight of her pain. "You are more than enough, Y/N," he whispered fiercely, his voice filled with conviction. "You're the strongest person I know, and I believe in you with all my heart."

Cassian's heart clenched at Y/N's words, her admission cutting him to the core. He pulled back slightly, his hands framing her face as he searched her eyes with a mixture of sadness and determination.

"Y/N, listen to me," he said, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his heart. "You are more than enough for me, in every possible way. You don't have to doubt yourself, not for a second."

Y/N shook her head, tears welling in her eyes as she struggled to meet his gaze. "But what if… what if I can't give you what you want?" she whispered, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

Cassian's expression softened with understanding, his thumb brushing away her tears with a gentle touch. "Y/N, look at me," he urged, his voice tender but firm. "What I want more than anything in this world is you. Just you. The rest… it's just details."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat at his words, the weight of his love washing over her like a tidal wave. She reached out, clutching his hand in hers as if holding onto him for dear life.

"I love you, Cassian," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "More than anything."

Cassian pulled her into his arms, holding her close as if trying to shield her from the pain that threatened to engulf them both. "And I love you, Y/N," he murmured against her hair, his voice thick with emotion. "More than you'll ever know."

And as they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, they knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as they faced them together, they could overcome anything. For in the strength of their love and the unwavering support of their bond, they found solace, courage, and the resilience to weather even the fiercest storms.

Tagging some:

@callsign-magnolia

@kmc1989

@hardballoonlove

@senawashere

@hookslove1592

@marvel-molly

@lucky7rosie

[maknaeswrld]

a life forgotten | l.mh, h.js

memories are both a treasure and a curse, and the bliss of them barely outweighs the pain that comes with bearing them

wc: 2.1k

genre: soulmate au; reincarnation au; fluff; angst; poly!minsung x reader

cw: marriage; cheating/allusions of cheating; mentions of pregnancy/parenthood; mentions of food/eating; I’m sure there’s other things, please let me know what you catch🫶 no happy ending for you; memories of past lives in italics

a/n: IN HONOR OF MINSUNG OUTTING THEMSELVES???????? respectfully I have no other explanation, enjoy!!!

Soulmates were an unpredictable thing. Everyone has them, but not everyone meets theirs.

Some actively avoid trying to find them, some do everything in their power to seek them out. You had always been in the boat of knowing it’ll happen when it happens, and if not in this life, then in the next. You had always been at peace with the knowledge that your soulmate was the one person you’re meant to find in every lifetime, so you didn’t see a point in searching for or avoiding them. 

Everyone grew up hearing the stories, that seeing your soulmate for the first time will feel like instant recognition, like deja vu, and slowly as you spend more time together and see each other more, your memories of your shared past lives slowly unravel. You could understand why some would be scared of that, of the knowledge of who you were in a completely different lifetime, but you liked to think it was natural, otherwise it wouldn’t happen. 

You always assumed you’d find your soulmate in a normal setting, meeting on the street or at one of your places of work, feeling the tingly feeling of familiarity and planning to meet up for a coffee, giving it the natural time to build to see if it was actually the soulmate bond or just mutual attraction. You found solace in inevitably becoming a statistic, in seeing your soulmate for the first time and them seeing you and everything happening the way everyone always told you it would. 

But as your best friend was telling you about her current favorite band, listing off members names and facts faster than you could think, swiping through pictures of them all, you felt your heart sink as your eyes met the digital ones of two frighteningly familiar faces, your mind buzzing with soft recognition.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe as you grabbed your friends phone to swipe back to the picture, your brain alighting with renewed interest at the second look of the boys on the screen.

Water surrounded you in every direction, the sounds of laughter coming from behind you. You felt relaxed and happy, your body swaying with the peaceful rocking of the boat.

You startled only slightly when arms wrapped around your waist, a chin propping on your shoulder and a kiss being pressed gently to your cheek. 

“Where is your beautiful mind right now, my love?” 

“Just lost at sea, I suppose.” You laughed, turning around in his arms, one of your hands coming up to cup his face, the other reaching behind him to the other man. “Just thinking about how happy I am.”

Jisung’s smile lit up his entire face, his eyes twinkling as he leaned in for a quick kiss. 

“Come back to the group, love. The boys are going to start their whining if you ignore them for too long.” Minho groaned, squeezing your hand lovingly.

“Just the boys?” You ask teasingly, raising a brow at your lovers, Jisung grinned sheepishly.

“You know how your boys can get.” He waved nonchalantly.

You excused yourself, apologizing for cutting the lunch date with your friends short, but you needed air. Stumbling down the street, you were thankful the place they picked was only a block from your apartment.

The cool spring breeze calms your nerves and clears your head enough so you could watch where you were walking. You stumbled through your door, kicking off your shoes as you made your way to your couch, sitting heavily, head in your hands as your leg bounced.

A path cleared between two groups of people, a beautiful altar covered in vines and wildflowers at the end of it. Everyone present was looking at you, but you couldn’t take your eyes off them.

Jisung had a lovesick smile on his face, Minho’s eyes were shiny with unshed tears. You felt weightless as you made your way to them, being the center of their attention making you feel like the most incredible person in the whole world.

Chan passed you off to them with a kiss to your cheek and a teasing threat towards your lovers, filling in for the father who disowned you for loving two men. They took one hand each, guiding you to stand in between them, all three of you giddy throughout the entire ceremony. 

The rings Hyunjin made for the three of you were intricately beautiful, you saw them for the first time only as they were placed on each finger. 

It was a fairly small and sweet affair, but you wouldn’t want to have had it any other way, everyone that mattered most to you and both of your husbands were present.

The night ran long as your love was celebrated, and ran even longer once you three finally got a moment for yourselves.

You felt numb, staring blankly at your floor while memories seemed to drown your mind. 

“Do you ever feel like there’s something missing?” You asked quietly into the darkness. The arms around you tightened as Minho sucked in a deep breath, you knew he was frowning.

“What do you mean, darling? We have everything we could possibly need or want right here in this home.”

You didn’t disagree. You were happily married to the love of your life, three beautiful children sleeping peacefully just down the hall. You were safe from the wars raging in distant lands, your husband was far from being called to join, but yet you felt as if there was a space that was yet to be filled.

Sighing, you propped your chin up on Minho’s chest, squinting to see his face through the darkness.

“I think you know what I mean. I cannot explain it, but you must feel it too.”

You knew you and Minho were soulmates, you had no doubt about that, the endless shared memories in different worlds proved it well enough, but it almost felt as though that bond didn’t fully seal, despite everything.

“I think you should be worrying more about getting proper sleep so our child you're growing stays healthy than to worry on about something neither of us can actually explain, my love.”

Your hands slid down to your stomach, rubbing it as if second nature. You tried to ignore the pang in your heart now, knowing that what was missing in that memory was your second soulmate.

You got up from your spot on the couch, realizing it was already dark, and stumbling your way to the kitchen to make yourself some dinner.

“You two are never allowed in this kitchen again. I’m serious. How do you burn water?” 

You and Jisung couldn’t stop giggling as you held each other, the both of you also confused as to how you’d managed that particular situation.

“Does that mean you’ll take care of us and cook for us every single day of the rest of our lives?” Jisung asked teasingly. 

“If I did, it would only be to save our house from burning down.” Minho grumbled.

“Awe! Min loves us, Sungie!” 

You and Jisung’s giggles started back up as you both took a side to sandwich your lover into a hug, heart fluttering when he didn’t reject it and instead wrapped his arms around you both to drag the two of you in tighter, nuzzling his face in the nook between you.

“Yes. I absolutely do.” Minho muttered into Jisungs shoulder.

You didn’t think soulmate bonds worked this fast. You were always under the impression that it took time for the memories to surface. You felt dizzy by the non-stop assault, heart swelling with love and breaking with loneliness at the same exact time.

The early morning light cast a gentle glow across the kitchen, the birds were chirping peacefully, and the welcome scent of fresh coffee was filling your house. But your morning was far from peaceful.

You had barely moved from your spot on the couch all night, refusing to lay in a bed that was half empty and unable to sleep while your husband was God knows where. 

Jisung had stormed out last night, leaving you sobbing and took nothing but his keys. You weren’t even certain he’d come back at all unless it was to get his things, and it was honestly your fault.

You had always despised cheaters, they were amongst the worst kind of people in your mind, but when you’d met Minho, he drew you in the exact same way Jisung had. You couldn’t fathom how it was possible, you and Jisung were soulmates, you had loved your husband more than anything in the world, but you somehow also shared all of that with Minho.

You never should have hid it, Jisung was a kind and understanding man, he would have been willing to at least hear you out before leaving you, but instead he found some of Minho’s belongings in your shared home. You tried to explain it to him, but he wasn’t in the mind to listen, just repeatedly asking for your secret lovers name and leaving the second you’d finally uttered it, ignoring your pleading for him to stay.

The wedding band on your left hand felt heavy as you twisted it subconsciously, as if trying to remind yourself that Jisung was still your soulmate and still legally bound to you, you hadn't lost him. At least not yet.

You leaned against the counter, trying desperately to keep yourself from breaking down again as you stared at the extra mug you had subconsciously poured for your husband.

“Can you poor another one of those, Y/n?” You whipped around at the sudden voice, fear and love filling you at the same time at the sight of both Jisung and Minho standing in the doorway, holding hands. “I think it’s gonna be a long morning.”

Grabbing your laptop, you settle into your bed, looking up your best friends favorite band and throwing yourself into compilations of your soulmates. The proof of them being soulmates was glaringly obvious, the subtle glances and touches, the soft looks, all the little things that scream they're in love, you truly couldn’t comprehend how people could look at it and assume it’s all perfectly platonic.

The more you watched, the more you fell into a pit of confusion. You didn’t miss the endless amounts of fans claiming to be any of the members soulmates, claiming they remember things, that if they could just be given a chance to meet up, the members would see. It was glaringly obvious that if you’d tried to reach out, you’d just be marked off as another fan seeking a way in to the bands inner circle. 

Memories continued to interfere with your research on your soulmates throughout the night, in between ‘Minsung’ edits and compilations of the whole band. You could see why your friend liked them so much. They were the type of band with a bond so tight it was obvious their loyalties lied with one another first and foremost. From what you knew of the K-pop industry, that wasn’t standard. 

The more you watched, the more you started to recognize all of them from your memories, not just your soulmates. Tears pricked your eyes at the thought, the fact that this group of souls seemed drawn to each other in every lifetime, and you were supposed to be one of them.

A quick search proved that they’ve talked about it before. Not much, mostly only in small subtle jokes, like one of them saying they all clicked so well from the beginning cause it just felt like they already knew each other. It was never actually said outright, but the evidence that they all knew they were a friendship that transcends lifetimes was obvious to anyone seeking it. 

You could feel your soul longing for its other parts, and you began to wonder if there were more of you out there. Soulmates of your other apparent friends who know exactly who their souls belong to, and know that in this lifetime they are essentially unattainable. Your heart aches at the thought that if that were the case, there are more people out there that are likely extremely important to you that you won’t get to meet in this lifetime.

That realization hits hard. The reality was you wouldn’t meet the loves of your life, you wouldn’t meet the friends you have endless memories with, and you’ll never remember the rest of those friends or get to learn their faces and the memories you hold with them in this lifetime. 

Because soulmates are an unpredictable thing. Everyone has them, but you wouldn’t get to meet yours.

a/n: I’m sorry?😅 I’m really not🤧

Part 2: a life remembered

[caelysiiium]

do you think tanfang would have kids in the future? i can see fang being a little nervous initially bc of his upbringing, esp if they have more than one kid, but his trust and feeling of security with tan helping those fears. and tan being the most supportive parent in the world who's so loud and proud of his husband and kid. i imagine they have a little boy and tan is the dad who matches his toddler energy 200% and is at the front of every event cheering loudly while fang reigns him in (and then joins in immediately w the biggest smile)

I think you nailed my thoughts exactly, anon. fang would definitely be hesitant at first, never having had that secure upbringing—his parents prioritizing their work in the false assumption that it'll be better for their kids down the road, growing up so young so quickly because it was up to him to take care of phum from a vast ocean away—and witnessing/experiencing first-hand the way neglect shatters a family. does he even have an example of what a happy childhood should look like? can he provide something he has never known to his children?

extrapolating from his insecurities depicted in the series, fang would wonder if he'd be enough. he knows he's not as openly affectionate as tan and he may overthink about how his every minute action impacts their kids and the way they perceive him compared to tan. I can imagine that he's terrified of turning out just like his father, as it's clear he's the closest of his brothers to the man, clinging desperately onto whatever tattered mess is left of their relationship (although maybe ep 16 will give us something different).

and of course tan will soothe these fears (phum too, because fang practically raised him and he knows the enormous capacity of fang's love). tan and his I see all of you and I love all of you and his constant words of affirmation and endless acts of service are already inspirations to fang, and they will continue to be as they navigate parenthood together. fang would never want his children to go through what he and his brothers had, and does his best to keep that promise. he still stumbles from time to time, especially at certain milestones where the three of them were never provided the appropriate parental support, but tan reminds him that he's allowed to make mistakes (we all do, after all; tan would as well, being a parent is hard), that he's not only his father's son, that he has come so far and there's always room to grow.

agreed, tan would be the most obnoxious [affectionate] parent in the world, loud and proud of fang and their children. I don't have definitive ideas on the number nor the genders—2 at most though, I don't think fang would be comfortable with more—but little boy or little girl or both tan would certainly match their energy and be helpless to their every whim. their child would have tan wrapped around their little finger, utterly in love and unable to tell them no. fang is still the voice of reason and would have to be the one to do any scolding, but yeah he would join in on their shenanigans more often than not (or, y'know, that fond eyeroll of exasperation, watching the loves of his life from the sidelines). again, not as openly affectionate as tan, especially in public spaces, but I like to imagine fang having a little bedtime ritual with their child—reading a story, perhaps, or counting the stars, or gossiping about schoolmates, or or or—sweet and tender and just the two of them. quieter in his love, yes, but every person under the sun knows that fang would level cities for their children.

both of them would unhesitatingly carve out family time, the home they built a sacred priority. tanfang would also be very protective, almost overbearing, which their child would 100% complain about as they grow older lol

[untoldreader]

A Storm of Emotions

Wandanat x Reader (Wanda & Natasha)

Chapter 2

The news of our impending parenthood had settled within our hearts, filling us with a blend of joy, excitement, and trepidation. As the days turned into weeks, our emotions became entangled in a storm of uncertainty and angst.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting shadows across the room, the weight of our worries hung heavy in the air. Wanda, Natasha, and I sat together on the couch, a somber atmosphere enveloping us.

"I can't help but feel scared," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. "Bringing a child into our world, our dangerous world... What if we can't protect them? What if they inherit powers that become a burden?"

Wanda's usually confident demeanor wavered as she took my hand in hers, her grip firm yet gentle. "I understand your fears, my love," she said softly. "But we'll face whatever challenges come our way together. We'll protect our child with everything we have."

Natasha, her eyes filled with empathy, leaned closer, her presence a grounding force. "We've seen darkness and fought against it," she assured me. "Our experiences have shaped us into strong individuals who can guide and protect our child. We won't let fear consume us."

Tears welled up in my eyes as their words wrapped around my heart like a comforting embrace. Their unwavering support was a balm to my anxious soul. Still, doubts lingered, clouding my thoughts like a persistent fog.

"What if I'm not cut out to be a parent?" I choked out, my voice laced with self-doubt. "What if I make mistakes? What if I can't give our child the love and care they deserve?"

Wanda's eyes softened, her gaze unwavering. "Y/N, you have a heart that overflows with love. You've shown it to us every day. Parenting is a learning experience, and mistakes are inevitable. But it's the love we give that shapes our children. And I have no doubt that you'll be an amazing parent."

Natasha's voice resonated with reassurance. "None of us are perfect, Y/N. We'll stumble, but we'll learn and grow with our child. Together, we'll create a nurturing environment filled with love, understanding, and support."

Their words washed over me, soothing the doubts that had plagued my mind. In their presence, I found solace and strength. Together, we would navigate the challenges that lay ahead, drawing on the bond we shared.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. The anticipation of our child's arrival grew, overshadowed only by the lingering shadows of our concerns. Yet, amidst the angst, moments of joy and hope managed to find their way into our lives.

Wanda, with her extraordinary powers, would gently cradle my growing belly, her touch imbued with a tender connection to our unborn child. Natasha, ever the protector, would research and ensure our home was safe, leaving no stone unturned.

Together, we would attend prenatal check-ups, listening to the rhythmic heartbeat that echoed through the room, a reminder of the life we had created. We would immerse ourselves in books, seeking knowledge, and preparing for the challenges ahead.

As the due date drew near, a mixture of excitement and nervousness filled our hearts once again. The storm of emotions that had consumed us for months now intensified, the anticipation almost palpable.

But amidst the turmoil, we held onto each other, finding solace and strength in our love and unwavering commitment. We knew that together, we would weather any storm, for the love we shared surpassed any obstacle that lay in our path.

And so, with bated breath and hearts entwined, we awaited the moment when our lives would be forever changed, and the miraculous arrival of our child would fill our world with a love more profound than we could ever fathom.

≈========================≈

Masterlist Next>

[rafeskai]

Life as We Know It — Rafe Cameron

Chapter One

Two opposites must navigate love, loss, and unexpected parenthood to discover the meaning of family.

Summary: When tragedy strikes, two very different individuals find their lives unexpectedly intertwined as they become the guardians of an orphaned child. As they navigate the challenges of co-parenting, balancing careers, and confronting their pasts, they discover that family can form in the most surprising ways. Through heartfelt moments and unexpected humor, they explore what it means to build a life together—one step at a time.

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Character deaths & angst.

Author's Notes: Inspired by the movie "Life as We Know It"! Let's pretend Rafe, Sarah, and John B. had a good relationship in this one, okay?

Masterlist: Here

Your phone buzzed on the kitchen counter, the shrill ring cutting through the early evening quiet. You were in the middle of folding laundry, your small apartment illuminated by the fading sunlight streaming through the windows. It was a peaceful, mundane moment—until it wasn’t.

You wiped your hands on a towel before glancing at the screen. Unknown Number. Normally, you’d let it go to voicemail, but something about the pit forming in your stomach made you swipe to answer.

“Hello?”

“Is this [Y/N]?” a man’s voice asked, calm but with an edge that made your chest tighten.

“Yes, this is she. Who’s calling?”

“This is Officer Langley with the Outer Banks Police Department. I... I’m afraid I have some difficult news.”

The world around you seemed to blur. You clutched the phone tighter, your knuckles turning white. “What happened?”

“There’s been an accident,” he said. “Sarah Cameron and John B. Routledge were involved in a car collision earlier this evening. Neither survived. You were one of their emergency contact.”

The words didn’t make sense. They felt foreign, like they belonged to someone else’s story. Your knees buckled, and you stumbled to the couch, sinking into the cushions.

“What about Willa, the daughter?” you whispered, your voice trembling.

There was a pause, and then, “She’s unharmed. The baby was with a sitter at the time. But there’s... another matter we need to discuss.”

You barely heard the rest of his explanation, your mind spinning with the weight of what he’d just told you. Sarah and John B. were gone. Gone.

When the officer mentioned the will, your thoughts screeched to a halt. “I don’t understand,” you said, your voice hoarse. “What do you mean ‘co-guardian’?”

“They named you and Rafe Cameron, her brother, as Willa’s legal guardians,” the officer repeated.

The line went quiet as you tried to process the impossibility of his words. Rafe Cameron? The same Rafe who couldn’t string together a week of good decisions if his life depended on it?

“Is... is he aware of this?” you managed.

“We’ve been trying to reach him. He’s next on my list.”

As if on cue, somewhere across town, Rafe Cameron was staring at his own buzzing phone with a mix of irritation and curiosity. The caller ID was unfamiliar, and he let it ring a few extra times before finally swiping to answer.

“Who is this?” he barked, already annoyed.

“Mr. Cameron, this is Officer Langley with the Outer Banks Police Department. I need to inform you—”

“If this is about the stupid noise complaint, I wasn’t even here last night,” Rafe interrupted, pacing his living room.

“It’s not about that.” The officer’s tone was grave, and Rafe froze mid-step.

“What’s going on?”

“There’s been an accident. Your sister, Sarah, and her partner, John B., were involved in a fatal car crash earlier this evening.”

Rafe’s mouth went dry. He sank onto the edge of the couch, gripping the phone so tightly it felt like it might crack. “What... what do you mean, ‘fatal’?”

“I’m very sorry for your loss,” the officer continued, his voice gentle. “They didn’t survive the collision.”

Rafe’s world tilted. His first instinct was disbelief—this had to be a mistake. But the silence that followed the officer’s words told him otherwise.

“And the baby?” Rafe asked after a long pause, his voice low and strained.

“Willa is safe. She wasn’t with them during the accident,” the officer said. “But there’s something else. According to their will, you and Ms. [Y/N] are named as her co-guardians.”

“What?” Rafe snapped, his disbelief quickly giving way to anger. “That can’t be right. Why would they do that?”

“You’ll need to meet with us to discuss the next steps,” the officer said. “I’ll send over the details.”

Rafe barely heard the rest of the conversation before the call ended. He dropped the phone onto the couch beside him, running both hands through his hair as his mind raced.

Co-guardian? With her?

It wasn’t long before your phone buzzed again, this time with a text from Rafe. His message was short and sharp:

“We need to talk. Now.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The next few hours blurred into a painful haze. You and Rafe found yourselves sitting in the cramped office of the Outer Banks Police Department, a thin folder containing Sarah and John B.'s will resting on the table between you.

The room smelled of coffee and stale air, and the fluorescent lighting above only made everything feel more surreal. You glanced at Rafe from the corner of your eye. He was stiff in the chair beside you, his jaw clenched, eyes red-rimmed but steely.

Officer Langley sat across from you, his expression carefully neutral. Beside him was a lawyer, a sharp-eyed woman in a navy suit who looked as if she’d rather be anywhere else.

“The will is clear,” the lawyer said, her tone crisp and no-nonsense. “Ms. [Y/N] and Mr. Cameron are the appointed co-guardians of Willa Routledge. In the event of Sarah Cameron and John B. Routledge’s passing, the two of you are to assume all parental responsibilities.”

Rafe let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Yeah, that’s great. But let’s be real, you think either of us is qualified to raise a kid?”

“You don’t have a choice,” the lawyer replied without missing a beat. “Unless you want to contest the will, which would result in Willa being placed in temporary foster care until the matter is resolved.”

“No,” you said immediately, your voice firmer than you expected. “That’s not happening.”

Rafe shot you a glance, his eyes narrowing. “And what exactly do you think is going to happen here? You think we’re just gonna team up and play house?”

You didn’t have the energy to argue. “This isn’t about us, Rafe. It’s about Willa. She needs stability, and we’re all she’s got.”

Rafe rubbed a hand over his face, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Fine. Whatever. But don’t expect me to know what the hell I’m doing.”

The lawyer nodded, seemingly satisfied. “We’ll arrange for a formal meeting in a few days to finalize the transfer of guardianship. For now, Willa will remain with her current sitter until the two of you are ready to take her home.”

The word home hung heavy in the air, an impossible concept when everything felt so fractured.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The hours that followed were a whirlwind. After leaving the police department, you and Rafe were directed to the funeral home to begin arrangements for Sarah and John B.’s services.

Rafe took the lead, though it was clear the responsibility weighed on him. He stood stiffly in front of the funeral director, nodding silently as they walked through options for caskets, flowers, and the service itself.

“They’d want it simple,” Rafe muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “Nothing flashy. Just... something that feels like them.”

You could see the cracks forming in his composure, the grief seeping through despite his best efforts to hold it together.

“I’ll handle the guest list,” you offered softly, hoping to lighten his load in any way you could.

He nodded but didn’t look at you. “Thanks,” he mumbled, his voice tight.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Later, you found yourself sitting in the corner of the funeral home’s waiting area, scrolling through your phone to contact people who needed to know. It was an exhausting task, one that made the reality of the situation sink deeper with every call.

Rafe was pacing the room, his phone pressed to his ear. From the snippets of his conversation, you guessed he was calling his father, Ward.

“No, Dad, I’ve got it under control,” Rafe said, though his tone suggested otherwise. “I don’t need you coming down here and making it about you. Just... send what you need to send and stay out of it.”

The conversation ended with Rafe tossing his phone onto a nearby chair and sitting down heavily. For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the weight of everything pressing down on you like a physical force.

“She didn’t deserve this,” Rafe said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

You looked over at him, surprised by the rawness in his tone. His head was in his hands, and for the first time, he looked utterly broken.

“No,” you agreed softly. “She didn’t. Neither of them did.”

Rafe didn’t respond, and you didn’t push. Grief was a strange, solitary thing, and you knew better than to try to force him to share it.

But as you sat there in the quiet, Willa’s face flashed in your mind—those wide, innocent eyes that didn’t yet understand what she’d lost. And you realized that no matter how fractured things were between you and Rafe, you’d have to find a way to piece them together. For her.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The morning of the funeral was gray and cold, the sky heavy with clouds that mirrored the weight in your chest. The Outer Banks, usually vibrant and alive, seemed subdued, as if the island itself were mourning.

You stood at the back of the small church, clutching Willa to your chest. She was dressed in a tiny black dress that Sarah had once bought “just in case,” her soft curls pinned back with a white bow. She didn’t understand what was happening, her chubby hands reaching for your necklace as if this were just another day.

But it wasn’t.

The pews were packed with people from all corners of the island—friends, family, neighbors, even people who barely knew Sarah and John B. Everyone had come to say goodbye.

At the front of the church, two caskets stood side by side, draped in simple white flowers. The sight of them made your stomach churn, a wave of nausea rolling over you as the reality hit again. They were gone.

Rafe sat in the front row, his shoulders hunched, his hands gripping the edges of the pew. He was flanked by Ward and Rose, both of whom looked perfectly composed, their grief hidden behind practiced masks. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of anger toward them—toward Ward, especially. How could he sit there so calm when Sarah, his daughter, was gone?

The service began with soft hymns, the sound of the organ filling the air. The pastor spoke of love, loss, and legacy, his voice steady but kind. He shared stories of Sarah’s infectious smile and John B.’s unyielding spirit, painting a picture of the lives they’d led and the love they’d left behind.

When it came time for eulogies, Rafe surprised you by standing. He adjusted his tie awkwardly, clearing his throat as he approached the podium.

For a moment, he just stood there, staring out at the crowd, his usual bravado nowhere to be found.

“Sarah wasn’t just my sister,” he began, his voice hoarse. “She was my anchor. She kept me grounded, even when I didn’t deserve it. She believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself.”

He paused, his eyes glistening. “And John B.? He was... he was family. He took care of Sarah, made her happy in a way I couldn’t. He was my brother, even if I never said it out loud.”

His voice cracked, and he gripped the edges of the podium tightly, trying to steady himself. “They didn’t deserve this. They had so much left to give. But... they left us Willa. And I’ll do everything I can to make sure she knows how amazing her parents were.”

Rafe stepped back, his head bowed, and you felt an unexpected lump rise in your throat. For all his flaws, his grief was real, and it was impossible not to feel the depth of his pain.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

After the service, the crowd filtered out to the cemetery, where Sarah and John B. would be laid to rest. The air was heavy with the sound of muffled sobs and the soft rustle of the breeze through the trees.

You stood a little apart from the others, bouncing Willa gently to keep her calm. Rafe was nearby, his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets, his expression unreadable.

As the caskets were lowered into the ground, you felt an ache so deep it seemed to hollow you out. Tears blurred your vision, but you didn’t wipe them away. Grief deserved space, and today, there was nothing to do but let it exist.

When the ceremony ended, Rafe approached you, his face pale and drawn. He hesitated for a moment before gesturing to Willa.

“Can I hold her?” he asked, his voice quiet.

You nodded, carefully passing her over. She went willingly, her small hands gripping the lapels of his coat. For a moment, Rafe just stared at her, his features softening in a way you hadn’t seen before.

“She looks like Sarah,” he murmured, almost to himself.

“She does,” you agreed, watching as Willa rested her head against his chest.

In that moment, standing beside the fresh graves of the people you both loved, it became clear that nothing about this would be easy. But as you looked at Rafe holding Willa, you realized that maybe—just maybe—there was hope. For her, you would find a way.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

A few hours after the funeral, the weight of the day still hung heavy in the air as you and Rafe sat in the conference room of the law office. The small table between you seemed to represent the chasm that had always existed between you two—now more evident than ever.

The lawyers—two of them now, both stern-faced and clearly used to handling the messier sides of life—sat across from you, speaking in professional tones about the formalities. Child services was represented by a no-nonsense woman in her mid-forties who seemed to take notes every time either of you shifted in your seat.

Willa, still in your arms, had drifted off to sleep, her tiny breath soft against your chest. She had no idea that her life was being turned upside down today.

“Everything seems to be in order,” one of the lawyers said, flipping through the paperwork in front of him. “Guardianship has been transferred to both of you as per the will, and now, we just need to finalize arrangements for Willa’s immediate care.”

Rafe, who had been largely silent up until this point, suddenly leaned forward. His sharp eyes met the lawyer’s, and his jaw tightened as he spoke.

“We’ll be taking Willa home with us today. Both of us,” he said firmly, his tone brokering no argument.

The child services worker, Ms. Anderson, looked up from her notepad, her brow furrowed. “Mr. Cameron, I understand the circumstances, but we would like to ensure that both of you are prepared for the responsibility of guardianship. Willa’s safety and well-being are paramount. It’s important to assess—”

“I’m prepared,” Rafe cut her off, his voice cold and final. “I’m not asking, I’m telling you. She stays with me.”

The room went quiet for a beat as Ms. Anderson studied him. You could see the flicker of concern in her eyes as she turned to you, silently asking for your input.

You hesitated. Part of you was reluctant to let Willa stay in that house, with Rafe—the person who had been nothing but trouble for years. But the other part of you knew that, for better or worse, you didn’t have many options. You were in this with him now, and if he was willing to take on that responsibility, you couldn’t exactly argue against it.

“She’ll stay with me, too,” you added softly, catching Rafe’s eye. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea to let her stay alone with you, not yet.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened again, but this time, there was a flicker of something else behind his eyes. A flicker of understanding. “Fine. We’ll take her. But we’re doing this together. It’s not just your decision, [Y/N].”

You didn’t argue with him. He was right. This wasn’t just your choice anymore. You shared the responsibility, whether you liked it or not.

Ms. Anderson nodded, taking notes. “We’ll have to conduct an assessment in the next few days, and I’ll be following up regularly. But for now, if both of you are in agreement, Willa can go with you.”

Rafe stood abruptly, crossing the room and grabbing the folder of documents from the lawyer’s desk. “Good. Let’s get this over with.”

As he turned to leave, the lawyer called after him. “Mr. Cameron, please ensure that you maintain contact with child services for further evaluations.”

Rafe gave a terse nod without looking back.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The drive to the Cameron estate was a tense one, the silence thick with unspoken thoughts. You sat in the passenger seat, holding Willa close, her tiny body pressed against you as she slept. Rafe drove, his grip on the steering wheel tight as he focused on the road, the sound of the engine and the occasional rustle of Willa’s breath filling the quiet.

When you pulled up to the house, it felt like a different world. The sprawling estate loomed ahead, the grand, cold structure seeming to mock the chaos of the day. You could feel the heaviness of the house before you even stepped inside. It was too big, too empty. It had always been a symbol of something Rafe wanted, something that didn’t fit with the life you’d grown up with.

But now, it was where Willa was going to stay.

“Welcome home,” Rafe muttered as he parked the car and cut the engine.

You weren’t sure if he meant it sarcastically, or if there was something real underneath the bitterness.

He led the way up the stone steps, unlocking the front door with a swipe of his key. The house felt colder inside, and Willa shifted in your arms as the air conditioned chill wrapped around you. Rafe glanced over his shoulder.

“I’m not leaving her with you alone,” you said firmly, setting Willa down into the nearby high chair as you followed him further into the house. “You’re going to need help. You’re not capable of just doing this on your own.”

Rafe gave a sharp, humorless laugh. “Yeah, no kidding. I never said I was. But if she’s gonna be here, she’s staying in this house. So you’ll just have to suck it up.”

You weren’t sure how you were supposed to feel in this house with him—this house that was too much like a battlefield, and not enough like a home. But there was no escaping it now. You were stuck here together, as guardians. You took a deep breath and tried not to let the tension eat away at you.

For Willa.

"She’s still a baby," you murmured, brushing a stray curl from Willa’s face. "This isn’t about us. We need to figure it out for her."

Rafe didn’t respond, but he didn’t argue, either. He just stood there, watching you with that same unreadable look he always had. But for the first time, there was a sliver of uncertainty behind it.

And for the first time, you wondered if maybe—just maybe—there was a chance, however small, that you and Rafe might actually pull this off.

© 2024 rafeskai | All rights reserved. This fanfiction is a work of fiction inspired by characters from Outer Banks, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.

[the-badger-mole]

Any steambaby headcanons?

I don't spend a ton of time thinking about Katara and Zuko's kids, but actually do have a run down of the 5 kids I see them having (the last two were unexpected and twins), and one or two other posts about their dynamics. Unfortunately, since I wrote it at least 2 years ago, and Tumblr would rather waste their time trying to look like Twitter instead of fixing their archive feature, I can't find it. I won't be able to recreate it exactly, and I don't really want to try. If someone happens to stumble on any of my steambaby headcanon posts, please, puh-lease interact so they'll show up in my notifs, and I can try to aggregate them. I don't think there's more than 4 of those posts.

I will, however give you a fresh headcanon, hot from the oven of my mind. It's not specifically about the steambaby in question, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.

Everyone thought that Zuko would be the one who was afraid of becoming a parent- and he did have a few pretty good freakouts- but what caught everyone off guard was Katara being afraid of parenthood. Half-way through her pregnancy, she began having these intense dreams of her mother, and how well Kya took care of her, and worse, how well she would've taken care of her had she not died, and Katara became certain that she wouldn't be able to live up to that. She doesn't tell any one. They've all been telling her for years at this point what a naturally mothering person she is- and not always as a compliment- and she knows she wouldn't be able to take them "paying lip service". So, her insecurities fester until one day, towards the end of her pregnancy, Zuko finds her sobbing in their bathroom. He freaks out, but then pulls it together, because his wife is in need of some serious bucking up. He finally gets her to tell him what's been bothering her, but instead of laughing off her fears and assuring her that she's going to be the best mother in the world, he sits with her and tells her he completely understands why she's afraid. Then he tells her just what she told him- that they were going to make mistakes, lots of mistakes as parents, but that ultimately, they already loved this child and that was all that mattered in the end. Then he goes on to remind her what a terrific job she did with Aang, Toph and Sokka, and that despite everything they went through, they were remarkably well adjusted, mostly due to her efforts. Everything isn't 100% okay after that, but Katara calms down enough to leave the bathroom. She still has her insecurities about motherhood, but she's now even more sure that she made the right choice of a father for her kids.