#you throw a cast of characters in front of me and expect me to not immediately latch on to them? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rowarn · 1 year ago

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MONSTER (m.)

neighbor!simon riley x reader

tags: zombie apocalypse au, neighbors to lovers, afab!reader, no pronouns, hurt/comfort, smut, NO MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH

cw: description of corpses, simon is aggressive towards you, but also very soft!simon, protective!simon, violence, simon does murder someone, lots of kissing, wet&messy sex, multiple orgasms, edging (simon), missionary position, mating press, fingering, cunnilingus, creampie, breast play, squirting, overstimulation, dirty talk, pet names, eye contact, praise, teeny bit talkin u thru it

note: i think that's all the neccessary warnings but if u think smthn else should be added, let me know. please enjoy this MONSTER fic!!!

; you find yourself hiding out in your apartment as the undead begin walking. luckily, you have a well-trained military operative as a neighbor who is more than willing to keep you safe.

16.5k

“Residents are advised to remain in their homes. Authorities are unsure what is causing the severe aggression in people but the military has been called in nationwide. Please stay tuned as more information becomes available.”

That was the first news broadcast. They reported people getting sick-- airborne is what they had said. Stay inside, and stay away from other people.

So you did just that – stayed hidden away in your apartment, glued to your television for every possible news cast that you could get.

It was only a week later that the whole story had come out.

The airborne strain is what caused the first swell of infections. Anyone who was susceptible to the infection would have already become sick by now. But those who were infected by the airborne strain turned…feral. They became like wild animals, barely human. Their skin rotted around them while they were still alive. Their brains died but their hearts remained pumping. They were walking corpses that had a vicious hunger for human flesh.

The bites are what caused the following wave of infections. Something in their saliva turned you into whatever they were.

You were scared. When you looked outside your window, down just a few floors to the ground, you could see hordes of people stumbling around, shuffling and shambling.

Sometimes you would hide in your bathroom as the sounds of gunfire filled the city. It was the worst when it was the middle of the night.

You weren’t equipped to deal with a disaster of this level – humans turning into disease spreading killers. You were having to ration your food, waiting for the day that there would be an announcement that it was safe.

You wanted it all to be over.

Then the news broadcasts stopped, cell service dropped, and the populace was left in the dark.

You kept the lights off in your apartment, scared that the wandering hordes outside would see it and find you.

You had no idea how long you had been hiding in your apartment, spending most nights with your knees to your chest as you watched the static on the TV. You held out hope that the news broadcast would come back, but it never did. You spent the days and nights in mundane monotony, hopelessness settling in.

The only interruption was a heavy knock on your front door, practically making you jump out of your skin at the sound of it. You hadn’t expected anyone to actually approach your apartment in search of you. It terrified you that anyone could be out there at a time like this.

With wide eyes and trembling hands, you grabbed a kitchen knife off of your counter and tiptoed towards the front door. Peeking through the peep-hole, you let out a heavy sigh of relief.

Throwing the door open, you were faced with the familiar balaclava of your neighbor across the hall.

“Simon…” you whispered in relief.

He wasn’t lunging nor did he have the milky-white eyes of the undead that you had seen on the news. He was normal.

“What’re you planning to do with that?” he asked, eyeing the kitchen knife still in your hand.

“Oh!” you gasped, quickly placing it on the table by your front door, “Sorry, you– you– startled me when you knocked. Would you like to come in?”

His lidded, brown eyes gaze around your apartment behind you before landing on you again, “You have anyone else in there?”

You blink and slowly shake your head, “No, I’m alone.”

His brows furrow at that, “You’ve been by yourself this whole time?”

You shrug and nod, “What else was I supposed to do? The news reports said to stay inside…”

He hums, “Are you sick?”

“No, I’m fine,” you respond quickly, “Why?”

Suddenly there’s a hand on your forehead and you realize he’s checking your temperature. You remain still and allow him to do it before he's shoving his hands in his hoodie pockets.

“Fever’s the first symptom,” he explains, “I’m goin’ door to door to check on everyone.”

“Oh!” you gasp, smiling, “That’s very nice of you, Simon.”

You knew that Simon was in the military. He was often out on long deployments and sometimes he had tasked you with keeping an eye on his apartment since you were right across the hall from him.

He was a nice enough guy, if not a little cold and blunt. He was tall and broad, clearly well built despite the fact that he usually wore a hoodie that hid his biceps from view. You’d gotten glimpses of his tattoos when you had knocked on his door one evening and asked him if he knew anything about water heaters because your hot water had been out for nearly a month in the dead of winter and the apartment manager hadn’t done anything to help you.

Simon had kindly come to your apartment, even though it was nearing midnight, rolled his sleeves up and fixed your problem within the hour. You had baked him cookies as a thank you that following weekend.

“How is everyone doing..?” you venture to ask, leaning against the doorjamb as a breeze flows into your apartment from the open door.

He casts a glance down the hallway, almost like he’s thinking before sighing, “Few people are sick. They’ve been…” he hesitates for a moment, “Quarantined.”

“Probably for the best,” you respond, “Keep them from hurting anyone when they…turn.”

It feels so surreal to be talking about confining people to keep them from literally eating the healthy people. But it seems that’s where you’re all at now.

“I’m going to barricade our floor,” he says suddenly, “Keep anyone from comin’ in that’s not supposed to come in.”

“What if we need to leave?” you ask, concerned, “We’re only going to have finite food and resources between us. The power’s also going to go out sooner rather than later, Simon.”

“I know,” he sighs, “But we should stay indoors for as long as possible. When the power runs out and we run out of supplies, we can figure out what to do next,” he explains, “The military was on the ground here last I heard, you’ve heard the gunshots. I don’t believe they’ll last much longer but it’s not wise for us to go out while they’re tryin’ to eliminate as many of these…undead as they can.”

“I guess that makes sense…” you whisper before his words finally settle on you, “What do you mean you don’t think they’ll last much longer..?”

He levels a hard stare at you that makes your heart race in anxiety. Simon was always a serious individual by nature but this is how you imagine he looks when he’s on duty, “Hundreds of thousands of people are sick out there. The airborne strain no doubt got to hundreds of the soldiers meant to be protecting the civilians. Eventually, they’ll eat each other from the inside out –literally.”

“You mean even the military is going to collapse..?” you ask, horrified. You try not to let the tears fill your eyes but Simon’s words fill you with a dreadful sense of hopelessness.

“Communications are cut,” he says finally, “Radio’s been silent all day. Not sure what’s goin’ on but it’s not good.”

The tears quickly began to fall down your cheeks. Before you could wipe them away, a calloused thumb was doing it. You sniffled and looked up at him.

“I-I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” you confessed softly, “I don’t know how I’m supposed to survive, Simon.”

“Don’t you worry about that, love,” he whispered, grabbing your chin gently to make you look up at him, “I’ll take care of you, yeah?”

“I don’t want to be a burden…” you explain, wrapping your arms protectively around yourself.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I took care of you,” he joked, though it held little humor, “You won’t be a burden. I’ll teach you what you need to know, alright?”

“You will?” he nods when you look up at him hopefully and you smile, “Thank you, Simon. I don’t really want to die by getting eaten by walking corpses.”

He chuckled under his mask, brown eyes crinkling around the edges a bit, “It is pretty fuckin’ mad, isn’t it?” You laugh, the first genuine smile you’ve cracked since before that first news broadcast, “Why don’t you come across the hall and stay with me, yeah?”

“Is that okay..?” You can’t deny the idea of being with company sounded more appealing than anything. You were definitely beginning to feel the ebbs of loneliness creeping in on you as the days of silence passed. Plus, Simon was…safe, “The news said not to…mingle in case of the disease spreading.”

He scoffed, “Rules like that don’t really apply anymore, love,” he mutters softly, “Plus, neither of us is sick so it’s not like we’ll spread it anyway. I can teach you some knife work and how to use a gun easier if we’re together, yeah?”

“Okay,” you smile, excitement surging in your chest, replacing the painful void of hopelessness you had, “Let me just get some things together and I’ll be right over, okay?”

“Sounds good, love,” you can tell he’s smiling under the mask. He gives you a pat on the shoulder before stepping away, “Just knock when you’re ready.”

You stand in your doorway until he disappears into his apartment. Once you’re alone, you cast a cursory glance around your living room, eyeballing everything you need to take before you dash into your bedroom. From the back of your closet, you grab a duffle bag that you have stowed away in the back of your closet from when you first moved in.

Navigating in the dark of your apartment was a bit of a challenge but you managed to stuff all the essentials into the bag. After slinging it over your shoulder, you step out of your apartment, making sure it was locked before knocking on Simon’s door.

He opened it quickly, still wearing the same hoodie, jeans, and balaclava as before – his hood still up as well. He stepped aside for you to enter.

Unlike you, his apartment was illuminated by lamps – but his windows were covered with blackout curtains so no light would seep outside. It was pretty plainly decorated, just the essentials and a few photographs on the walls; upon closer inspection it looked like him and, you assumed, his comrades.

You went to place your bag down but he stopped you, “I cleared out a drawer for you to put your clothes in for the time bein’.”

“Oh…” you gaped at him, surprised to hear that he had done something like that for you, “Thank you, Simon.”

He led you to his bedroom, standing in the hallway while you walked in. His bedroom was darkly decorated, black out curtains on the windows, navy blue sheets and a black comforter on his bed. His furniture was all dark toned as well.

It suited him, you thought.

There were two drawers open and empty, letting you know that those were yours for the taking. You knelt down and opened your duffle bag, carefully folding and placing your items inside. When you got to your undergarments, you cast a glance towards the door to find that he was no longer standing there. Breathing a sigh of relief, you quickly filled the top drawer with all of your delicates before closing the drawers and standing up.

Flicking on the light to his en suite bathroom, you placed your toothbrush and toothpaste alongside his, the sight making you blush before you went to add your belongings into the shower as well.

Realistically, you knew that the water was going to go out sooner or later but you planned to enjoy it for as long as you possibly could until then.

When you ventured into the living room, Simon was in the kitchen, the cabinets open as he scanned over all of his belongings.

“Is something wrong..?” you asked softly.

“Thinkin’ of how to ration,” he replied quickly, “Have you got any stuff over at yours still?”

You nod your head, “It’s not much but I have some canned food and like...rice and stuff if you want that.”

“Yeah, it’ll be good to consolidate all our supplies in the long run,” he explained, “You got your keys?”

“Yes!” you pull your keyring from your pocket and drop it into his open palm.

“I’ll be right back love, make yourself at home,” he gave you a gentle nudge towards the couch before leaving you there.

You took a seat on the couch, realizing just how tired you were. You hadn’t realized how tense you’re been for so long on your own. Now that you were safe and with company, you could almost feel the tension sliding right off of you. You rested your head against the back of the couch and closed your eyes, intending to just rest your eyes and enjoy the peace you felt.

You were startled awake by the sound of the door slamming shut. You nearly jumped out of your skin, wide eyes finding Simon’s who looked a little sheepish.

“Sorry, love,” he whispered, “Didn’t realize you’d be sleepin’.”

“Didn’t mean to…” you confess, standing up and stretching, watching Simon lug a bag of food into the kitchen.

“Haven’t been sleepin’ well?” he asked, his back to you as he began to stock up the cabinets.

“Not really…” with a sigh, you lean back against the counter with your arms crossed over your chest, “I’ve been stressed about this whole situation.”

“It is…” he pauses in his words, placing a bag of dried beans into the cabinet, “Nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

“Society is really collapsing around us, isn’t it?” you bravely ask, although you were scared to hear the answer.

“Yeah, darlin’,” his voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it and that brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes.

“This is so fucked up,” you cry, burying your face in your hands, “Thank you, Simon. You didn’t have to offer to help me and I really owe you a lot.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he closes the cabinet, the bag he brought finally empty before turning to you, “I’ll make sure you know everything you need to know to survive.”

“I doubt I’ll be as good as you,” you joke, a crooked, wobbly smile on your face.

He steps forward and cups your chin, brushing his thumb against your cheek, “No one’s as good as me, sweetheart.”

You chuckle softly at his words.

This is what you needed – someone by your side to keep you sane as society collapsed and everyone that you knew died.

That night, you slept better than you had in days. Simon had given you his bed, offering to take the couch. You had argued, telling him that you couldn’t take his bed like that.

“I’m up most nights anyway, love,” he had assured you, “At least someone around here can get a good night’s sleep in that bed.”

When you woke up, fully rested you might add, Simon was already awake, drinking some tea. You sat down beside him, enjoying a nice quiet morning.

“How do you feel about learnin’ some basics today, love?” he asked when he was cleaning his mug.

“Sure!” you agreed, “I have to warn you though, I really know next to nothing…”

“That’s alright,” he chuckled, waving to you to follow him to the living room, “I’m a good teacher, I promise.”

“I don’t doubt that,” you watched as he stood up and went to a closet in the hallway, pulling out an assortment of bags and carriers.

He placed them down beside the couch and took a seat next to you. “I think it’s best if we start with you gettin’ comfortable with the feeling of holding a weapon in your hands,” he explained, pulling out a knife bigger than any you’ve seen, “This is a hunting knife.”

He handed it towards you, his fingers confidently gripping the blade between two fingers. You wrapped your hand around the handle, testing its weight in your hands. It was dangerous and nerve-wracking, holding a weapon in your hands.

“I know it’s scary,” he assured, “But when you’re comfortable holding knives then you can learn to use them properly to protect yourself.”

“What about guns..?” you find yourself asking, still gripping the knife in your hands, turning it over and adjusting your grip just to desensitize yourself to it.

“We’ll tackle guns when you get used to knives,” he replied.

“So you have guns?” you ask, letting him pull the hunting knife from your hands.

“Of course I do,” he reaches into a bag by his feet, pulling out a pistol.

Your eyes go wide as you watch him handle it effortlessly, checking the chamber and moving it around in his hands like it wasn’t a dangerous weapon.

“When you’re ready, I’ll teach you to properly use one so you can use it in case of an emergency,” he explained, placing the pistol on the table carefully.

“I’m going to have to kill other people…” you mutter to yourself.

Simon pulled out another knife, passing it into your hands, “Combat knife,” he supplied simply, “And you’ll have to kill them but…I don’t think they’re people anymore, love.”

“I guess that’s true…” you mutter, holding the knife with a firm grip, “I’ve only seen them on the news before it stopped broadcasting. What about you?”

“Haven’t seen ‘em in person either,” he replies with a shrug, “Some of my…teammates,” the words seem awkward coming from his mouth but he continued, “Were givin’ me some information before they went radio silent.”

“What happened to them?” you couldn’t help but ask.

A brief flash of sadness flashed over his eyes but he quickly sobered up, leaning back against the couch with a sigh, “Not a clue. I guess there’s no way for me to know. I just know it was getting bad. Dangerous.”

“I’m sorry about your teammates,” was all you could find in supply of an answer.

Simon didn’t respond, simply letting his gaze fall back on the knife, “Let me show you some handling techniques for you to practice.”

Realizing that he didn’t want to talk about the world outside anymore, you let him lead you through a crash course on knife handling and knife safety. He took the time to teach you the different kinds of knives in his possession and you nodded along as best you could but if you’re being honest – it was primarily lost on you.

You’re not sure if Simon knew that but he seemed to enjoy teaching you, so you let him ramble on to his heart’s content.

By the end of the day, you were confident enough in at least not accidentally cutting yourself on the sharp blades.

In order to repay him, you made dinner for the both of you – though, really, it was just some heated up canned soup-- and did the dishes for him so he didn’t have to.

By the end of the night, you both found yourselves on the couch, watching a movie he had put on. With there being no way to watch anything else, you were grateful he had a collection of movies to his name – you simply streamed your favorite shows and movies and called it a day.

It ticked late into the night and before you knew it, you were falling asleep on the couch, leaned against his shoulder. You could feel him shift and knew you should open your eyes, but the tugs of sleep at the edges of your subconscious kept you from doing so. Suddenly, you felt the soft beat of his heart against your ear and the heavy weight of his arm laid across you. You briefly registered that you were now wrapped in his arms before the final tug of sleep pulled you under.

When you woke up, you were in bed.

And Simon wasn’t in the apartment.

“Simon..?” you called, looking around everywhere for him – to no avail.

You ventured to the door, carefully pulling it open and stepping out. You looked down the hall towards the stairwell before you heard a grunt of effort from the other end.

“Simon!” you called, making him look up.

“What’re you doin’ out here?” he asked, pausing in his task of pushing a large bookcase towards the elevator.

“You weren’t inside…” you mutter, wandering down the hall towards him, “What’re you doing?”

“Barricading this elevator,” he replied, giving the heavy object another push with a grunt of effort.

“Oh, right, you mentioned you wanted to do that,” you mumbled, taking a moment to look over him.

He wasn’t wearing his hoodie for once, instead wearing a tight black t-shirt that was sticking to his skin with sweat. He wore his jeans with a holster and gun on his hip as well.

“Do you need any help?” you asked but he shook his head.

“No, you can’t help with this, love,” he grunted, giving the bookcase one final, heavy push before it was flush against the elevator doors.

It was then that you noticed the straps nailed to the wall. He took them and secured them to the other side of the elevators, making sure the bookcase was fastened firmly.

“Enough people push this and it’ll come down but at least it’s secure enough,” he explained, giving his work a final once over.

“Do you know where the others are?” you find yourself asking as he makes his way to the other end of the hallway

He pauses at that, seemingly thinking of his next words carefully, “I checked door to door. Most of our neighbors got the hell out to go see their families when everything went to shit. A few…were sick and turned in their apartments so I had to…put them down.”

You cringed at his wording, you knew he was trying to phrase it delicately for you but you weren’t sure if you would have preferred him to just say he killed them. ‘Put them down’ made it sound like they were rabid dogs and not people you once knew and smiled at in the halls.

“Found some notes in some of them,” Simon said suddenly, waving you to follow him back to the apartment – to safety, “Guess we can only hope they made it to their families in one piece.”

“I hope so,” you muttered optimistically, slipping past him when he opened the front door for you.

You quickly realize how difficult it is to tell how much time is passing with Simon’s blackout curtains, which he refused to allow you to open for fear of attracting any unwanted attention. With there being no more news broadcasts or anything on TV, you didn’t even know the date anymore and you were too scared to ask for fear of knowing how long you’ve been living like this. Your food rations were slowly dwindling but neither of you talked about it.

You know you’re still waking up in the mornings and sleeping at night – Simon seems to run on an extremely specific schedule. When you asked him about it, he told you it was from the military, which made sense. Either way, you were grateful to him for helping you keep on track.

The water and power were both still on, but Simon kept telling you not to keep your hopes up about it lasting long.

You spent your days learning knife etiquette and practicing stabbing various targets that Simon made for you. You’ve grown much more confident. Of course, you would be no match for your teacher himself but against a bumbling walking corpse? You were sure you would be able to at least buy yourself time to escape if you needed.

Eventually, Simon decided it was time to move onto what you were most scared of – guns.

“I’m going to tell you a few things before I let you hold this,” he said, eyes hardened to show how serious he was as he held a pistol in his hands, “Are you paying attention?”

“Of course,” you breathe, wringing your hands in front of you as you eye the weapon.

“You can’t be scared of your weapons,” he advises, “You need to be confident and sure with every movement you make. It’s not a toy.”

“Hard not to be scared of it…” you confess, “What if I hurt someone with it or…I don’t know.”

“That’s why I’m teaching you all this,” he says, “You’ll get confident and less scared the more you handle them. We’re startin’ you off simple and you can build up to bigger and badder guns. For now…pistols will do.”

“Okay,” you swallow around the nervous lump in your throat, “Tell me what I need to know.”

“That’s the spirit,” he praises, holding the pistol up for you to see how he grips it, “First, never put your finger on the trigger unless you’re going to shoot. Just rest your finger on the side like this, see,” he turns his hand and lets you see the way he keeps his finger hovering beside the trigger rather than on it.

You nod your head, “Got it.”

“Take it,” he says, “Carefully.”

You stare at the offered weapon for just a moment before you reach out and delicately take it from his hands, “Next, never point it at anyone you don’t intend to shoot. Whether it’s loaded or not, keep it pointed away from people and yourself.”

You mimic his grip, grimacing when you realize it's actually much heavier than you thought it would be. It was definitely going to take practice before you built up the ability to hold it for long periods. You follow his instructions and keep it pointed to the ground – albeit awkwardly.

“Here,” he suddenly steps behind you.

You feel your heart catch in your chest when you feel him press against your back. He’s incredibly warm and firm as you lean against him. He carefully takes your hands in his, supporting your hands and holding the gun eye level.

“Just practice lining up your sight and lookin at a target,” he says.

His face is so close to yours, his voice right in your ear, deep and gravelly with that heavy accent. You struggle to process his words, hoping to god he doesn’t hear how fast your heart has started racing.

You close one eye and focus on aiming at a photo on his wall, a small picture frame. His large, gloved hands dwarf your own and you’re suddenly overwhelmed by the scent of him. He smells like cigarettes and the body wash you may have taken a quick whiff of when you used his shower for the first time. You find yourself wondering when he has time to smoke since you’ve never actually seen him do it.

Your mind is blank beyond anything other than him. How big and warm he is, how safe you feel with him wrapped around you, how good he smells and how much you love his voice as he utters tips and commands into your ear – sickly sweet in that way he always seems to talk to you.

If you focused too much on it, you’d slowly come to the realization that you may have a crush on him. But you quickly dash that thought from your head and focus back on his gun lesson as he teaches you how to eject a magazine with ease.

This is about survival. Neither of you have time to dwell on a silly crush.

A few days later, you’re standing in the eerie hallway with him. He had offered for you to just stay in the apartment and relax while he did the work but you honestly didn’t want to be alone so you opted to sit with him as he worked.

Your back was against the wall, sipping a cup of instant coffee you had made. Simon was silent as he worked on barricading the door to the stairwell. You both agreed that it was best if it was still accessible just in case something happened, but you didn’t want any unnecessary visitors making their way into the safe little haven you’ve both made for yourselves.

“We should think about looting the empty apartments,” you said suddenly, trying to keep your eyes off of his bulging biceps as he yanked on a strap that was attached to the doorknob to keep the door from being opened.

“That’s a good idea,” he grunted, stepping back to admire his handiwork when he finally finished testing its durability, “Let’s do it.”

He offered his hand and you smiled, taking it and letting him pull you to your feet. You brushed off imaginary dust in an effort to hide how flustered just holding his hand for that brief second made you.

You started at the other end of the hallway from your shared apartment. Simon displayed a disturbing aptitude for opening up very locked doors. You chose not to comment on it, instead silently being thankful that he was able to do it at all.

“How about we make a loot pile in the hallway so we can bring it all inside when we’re ready?” you suggest.

“Alright,” he responds, eyes scanning over the cabinets in the kitchen, “Food is our main priority but it wouldn’t hurt to have some medical supplies.”

You agreed and started helping him pick things out, filling your arms full of canned goods and pill bottles which you then deposited in the hallway by your apartment.

The two of you made it through a handful of apartments, securing a nice resource pile for the two of you. You were feeling good, hopeful, as you stared at your future right there in the silent hallway.

It wasn’t until you opened one in particular— it belonged to a shy, college kid, you remember— that it seems everything changes for you. He couldn’t have been but 18, away from home for the first time and living in his first apartment on his own.

Simon is busy looting the kitchen, you can hear him placing cans on the counter, consolidating whatever it is he chooses to bring with him. You check the bedroom, looking through the drawers and pocketing a bottle of aspirin and nausea medication before you move to the bathroom.

The second you push open the door, you’re met with the force of another person shoving into you. You cry out as you hit the ground, the person falling on top of you. You panic and scramble out from under them, their coughing and wheezing forcing you to look at them.

It’s the kid who lives there. He’s deathly pale, dark circles under his eyes which are bloodshot. His lips are crusty and dry, seemingly struggling with finding something to say.

“Pl-” he starts to whisper before you see movement in the corner of your eye.

“Simon, wait!” you cry when you see the knife.

But it’s too late, the hunting knife you had held with your own two hands more times than you could count, is embedded in the kids skull, spraying blood all over you. All you can do is make a pathetic squeak, fear and panic rendering you unable to say anything as you watch his now lifeless body flop onto the ground beside you, his still warm blood soaking into your clothes as it runs out of the gaping hole in his head.

“The fuck were you thinkin’?!” Simon suddenly shouts, storming over to you and yanking you to your feet roughly.

You stumble up, bumping into him as you stare at the dead body on the floor, “He..He was alive…I…”

“He was sick!” Simon snarls, roughly wrapping his hand around your throat, forcing you to look at him. There was a fire in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before, making you cower, “You’re lucky he didn’t bite you! Fuckin’ hell, are you stupid?!”

“H-He was talking, he was just sick, Simon!” you argued, tears filling your eyes as you stared up at him, “W-We could have given him medicine, could have–”

“He was a dead man walking,” he shouts, the volume making you flinch, “He was going to turn. Are you a fuckin’ idiot? Thinkin’ we could save him?”

The tears you were holding fell down your cheeks at his cruel words and you glared up at him, “I-I’m not stupid, I just…h-he talked to me!”

“It doesn’t matter,” Simon’s eyes narrow, “He was a threat. A liability. Don’t fuckin’ worry about him, worry about yourself.”

He releases you with a rough shove, taking out some of his anger on you. He continues to glare at you for a long minute before turning his back on you and stalking out of the room, muttering about how stupid it was that you could have killed yourself over some random kid.

Your eyes fall on said kid, no more blood coming from the wound, simply coagulating on the floor around him, “Y-You’re a monster.”

The words come out of your mouth before you can stop them, quiet and shaky. But Simon hears them clear, freezing on the other side of the doorway, in the hall.

“I’m a monster..?” he asks, voice suddenly eerily calm. He turns around, his large body taking up an obscene amount of the doorway. You can tell he’s intentionally trying to intimidate you, a punishment that makes your cheeks heat up in anger, “I’ve been breakin’ my back to keep your stupid ass alive and I’m a monster? Because I put down some fucker that was gonna turn rabid in a day?” he glares at you, squinting through the mask and drawing his dark eyebrows together, “You think it’s easy for me? I’m doin’ everything I can to keep you safe!” he shouts so loud that your ears ring and you flinch from the sound alone, “But if you can’t appreciate that then maybe you should be on your fuckin’ own and see how long it takes before you’re ripped apart by those feral bastards!”

He storms off at that, loudly slamming the front door, indicating his final exit from the apartment. You hastily wipe the tears from your cheeks only for more to replace them and you sniffle, casting a sorrowful glance at the dead kid before creeping out of the apartment yourself.

Simon is nowhere in the hall but the supplies you both gathered are still there.

You carefully open the door to Simon’s apartment and peek inside, finding it completely silent and still. You’re not sure where he went but you decide to busy yourself with loading all your looted items into the kitchen and sorting them all for when he returns.

You’re not sure how long you take to finish but Simon still isn’t back and you become worried.

He had said you should be on your own but surely he didn’t actually just leave the building, did he?

You wander over to his supplies and find a handful of his weapons gone. Your heart shoots into your throat and more tears prick at your eyes before you’re dashing out of the apartment once again.

The door to the stairwell is no longer held shut, indicating that Simon had, in fact, gone that way. You curse yourself. If you had checked sooner then he would have at least been somewhere close but if he really left, he would be long out of the building by now.

You creep towards the door and slowly push it open. You hadn’t even left the floor since before this whole thing started. It was eerily quiet, but if you listened close you could hear some muffled shuffling from somewhere.

You crept out, quickly realizing how dark it was. You pulled out your keychain which held a tiny flashlight that you used to navigate when it was dark in the apartment.

You crept down the stairs, holding your breath with every step until you finally reached the floor below you. You can hear muffled sounds from beyond the door and slowly push it open, flashing the light down the hallway.

It's too small and weak to penetrate the stifling darkness. The power was not on on this floor for some reason and that immediately set you on edge. You could still hear some shuffling and strange, raspy noises from within the darkness.

“Simon..?” you call into the impenetrable, oppressive darkness. The noises stop for a moment and you swallow around the nervous lump in your throat, “Simon?” you call again, louder.

The noises return, shuffling, heavy footsteps advance on you. You strain your eyes to see past the weak illumination that your flashlight provides. You’re breathing heavily, you realize, anxiety making your lungs feel constricted as the footsteps get closer and closer.

All of the sudden, a disgusting, rotted face appears in your sights, arms outstretched towards you. You scream out in unbridled terror as it grabs you, its bony, sickening fingers latching onto your shoulders. You attempt to push it away and run but you trip over your own two feet in your panic. Your flashlight flies out of sight, its dim illumination casting down the hallway, leaving you to push at the undead corpse as it collapses on top of you. Its weight is more than you thought it would be, leaving your arms trembling as you struggle to keep it from falling on top of you. It fights your resistance and chomps its disgusting teeth at your face, attempting to get a bite out of your flesh.

It reeks, you realize, like the smell of a dead animal you pass by on the street. It makes your stomach turn and you fear you’re going to throw up from the smell alone. The rotting skin of its chest slips and pulls away from the bone and muscle and you gag, tears coming to your eyes as you realize the very real and terrifying danger you’re in.

You have no way to get out of this.

As you look down the hall, where the light barely pierced the inky depths, you can see more figures emerging from further down the hall, shuffling and rasping in interest at your fight with the one on top of you.

Tears fall down your temples and a sob bursts from your chest as you slowly come to terms that this is how you’re going to die. You can’t hold the sheer weight of the undead above you for much longer.

“S-Simon…” you call out, weak and strained. You know even if he’s nearby he won’t hear you. You have to try harder, get your voice out, shout for him. You swallow around your tears and panic, taking a full breath before shouting, “Simon! Please! Simon, help me!”

You don’t even register the door opening behind you. But you do notice when the weight of the corpse is gone, a knife stabbing into its skull before a large hand grabs you by the back of the shirt and drags you back into the stairwell. The undead follow after you, slamming themselves against the door as soon as it slams closed.

You’re trembling and unable to blink or breathe as the shock of what just happened washes over you.

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” Simon all but screams, grabbing you by the front of your shirt, dragging you onto unsteady feet that can’t hold you up before slamming you against the wall. You can still hear those zombies slamming against the door. Your ears are ringing and you barely register Simon shouting at you.

He shakes you and it finally draws your attention to him. His eyes are wide, irises darting back and forth over your face. He doesn’t look nearly as angry as you would expect. Instead he looks…concerned. Scared.

“Simon…” you whisper, the tears not stopping as they fall down your cheeks. He’s the only thing holding you up right now, hands balled in the material of your shirt, keeping you pinned to the wall, “I-I was…I was looking for you…”

He’s panting, shoulders rising and falling as he struggles to compose himself, “Lookin’ for me?”

“Y-You said you were leaving and I…” you whimper, “I-I didn’t want you to go so…I went to find you…I didn’t think that…”

You see his jaw tense through his mask before he slowly lets go of your shirt. Your knees tremble under your own weight and your hands find purchase against his chest.

“Fuckin’ hell…” he mutters, stepping away from you with a heavy sigh, “Just don’t…do that again, got it?”

You nod your head, sniffling as you feel your tears slowly come to a stop, “Th-Thank you, Simon…for saving me…”

“Yeah,” he grunts, turning his back to you, storming back up the stairs to your floor.

You unsteadily follow behind him, still a shaky and anxious mess. When you get into the apartment, Simon is in the kitchen, barely sparing you a glance.

“Go take a shower,” he orders you.

You linger in the doorway for a moment, hoping that he’ll look at you even for a second. But he doesn’t and you hang your head, skulking off to take your shower with a heavy heart.

The night rolls around and Simon hasn’t said a word, putting you more on edge with each passing minute. He sits, manspreading on the couch with a glass of Kentucky bourbon in a glass, sipping on it and watching some old movie that he put on play. Usually, he asks you if you’d like to watch with him, but this time he didn’t and that just makes your heart ache even more.

“Simon…” you venture to ask, casting a glance at him. His hard gaze doesn’t move from the TV, “I-I want to apologize–”

“For what?” he asks, the first words he’s spoken to you in hours. They’re cold and make you wince.

“F-For what I said…” you mutter, tucking your legs underneath you as you turn to look at him, “I…I was mean. I know you’re doing all you can for me and it wasn’t fair of me to get angry at you…I was just…startled, I guess.”

“You were naive,” he snaps, finally looking at you with a harsh glare, “You had no fuckin’ idea what those monsters were and you almost got yourself killed because of it.”

“Y-You’re right…” you whisper, feeling the tears pricking your eyes for the millionth time that day, “I’m sorry, Simon.”

He doesn’t respond, simply throwing back his glass of bourbon, downing it all before he stands up, “Sleep on the couch.”

The last thing you hear from him is his bedroom door slamming shut. You lay down that night, quietly crying into the pillow until you finally fell back asleep.

“Wake up!” a barking voice is what draws you out of your slumber.

Still shaken up from yesterday’s previous events, you sit straight up, wild, fearful eyes looking around before your gaze falls upon Simon. He stands in front of the couch, dressed in full tactical gear. Even his balaclava is different, with a hard plate in the shape of a skull covering the front. He looks intimidating.

“Wh-What’re you doing?” you ask, turning yourself so your feet are on the floor.

“We’re trainin’, get up,” he commands and you have no choice but to follow.

You find yourself following him out of the apartment and into the dimly lit hallway. It’s eerily quiet as always and you feel more intimidated than ever standing before him in nothing but some flimsy pajamas while he wears full gear. Even his gaze is different through that skull mask, hard and cold, looking down at you like you’re insignificant.

It’s so different from before. He was so kind and patient with you before and you can tell that now he’s going to really train you.

“What’re we doing today..?” you timidly ask, wringing your hands in front of yourself.

“Escaping,” he responds.

“Escaping?” you parrot back dumbly.

His glare narrows down at you, “You’re going to try to get away from me and make it towards that exit.”

He points to the other end of the hallway, to the stairwell. You glance up at him, where he stands between you and your exit.

“Okay…” you lick your lips nervously, “Do you want me to just run past you?”

“For now,” he drawls. He sounds almost bored, hands wrapped around the straps of his tactical vest.

You take a deep breath and attempt to bolt past him but his reflexes are frighteningly fast. His arm shoots out before you even realize it, catching you around your middle and halting you immediately.

The air is punched out of your lungs from the force of his arms and you stumble back with a groan.

“You’re goin’ to have to do better than that,” he says, looking down his nose at you like you had offended him with your poor attempt.

You brace yourself again and attempt to run past him. This time, you attempt to fake him out and run in the other direction but it ends the same with his arm grappling around your middle and you still not any closer to the exit.

“Again!” he barks and you can’t help but wonder if this was how he was when he was training recruits in the military.

You try again and again to run past him, duck under his arm, avoid his reach – everything to no avail. After several attempts, you’re left panting and frustrated. Simon is still as cool as a cucumber, staring at you in pure boredom as he awaits your next move.

You run again, making rough contact with his arm once again. But this time you start fighting against his hold. You push with all your might, shoving at his arm and his side in an attempt to slip past him.

“There you go,” he says, though it sounds more condescending than proud, “Fight me.”

You slam your fist down over his arm, successfully knocking it out of the way and giving you a chance to bolt past him. You have a clear view of the stairwell door and you can almost taste the success.

But you’re stopped suddenly when a rough hand grabs the back of your shirt. You cry out in shock when he yanks you back towards him, carelessly tossing you to the floor. You hit the rough carpet harshly, the coarse material skinning your hands and knees and you cry out at the pain.

“Simon!” you chastise him, glaring up at him when he comes to stand in front of you, “That fucking hurt!”

“Oh, it hurt?” he sneers, squatting beside you, behemoth form still dwarfing your own as he gets down on your level, “It’s not supposed to feel good. This is training. You’re supposed to try and survive, not whine and cry because you fell on the floor.”

You sit on your burning knees and glare at him. He glares back at you, neither of you backing down.

“Get up,” he commands, standing up, “Go again.”

By the time he allowed the training to be called off, your body was sore and bruised from the amount of times you’d been thrown to the floor. Your knees burn and ache from where the skin had been rubbed off and you fight back tears as you watch the dried blood crust on your skin.

Simon is no more rough for wear than he was before – all your hitting, kicking, pushing, and biting hadn’t deterred him in the slightest. He wasn’t even winded.

Worse more, you hadn’t made it anywhere near the door.

You weren’t sure how Simon felt about it. If he was mad or disappointed, he didn’t say. As soon as you got into the apartment, he went about making dinner after ordering you to wash up.

When you got out of the shower, he tossed a first aid kit to you and silently sat down in the kitchen to eat.

Usually, you would sit with him but you found yourself deciding to eat on the couch by yourself. A sense of loneliness settled upon you that you hadn’t felt since before you had moved into this apartment with him and you find yourself hiding your tears in your food.

Once again, you’re sleeping on the couch. You wouldn’t have minded it if it didn’t feel so much like a punishment. You felt like a dog banished to sleep in the dog house and you can’t help but curl in on yourself at the cold, empty feeling that it causes.

The next morning follows much the same with Simon startling you awake with a barked order. Your body aches and your wounds sting with every movement you make as you drag yourself behind him to the hallway.

“Do we have to do this again today, Simon?” you ask hopelessly, “I’m really tired…”

“Do you think those undead freaks are going to care if you’re tired?” he snaps at you, arms crossed, making him appear even bigger than he already was, “You’re goin’ to learn how to escape from holds.”

“Simon…” you start to complain but a sharp look from him has the words dying on your tongue and you hand your head in defeat.

He’s no more gentle than he was yesterday with you, rough grips and manhandling you around to fit his needs. He barks in your ear, ordering what you need to do and when to break various holds that he has on your body.

He feels so much stronger and more powerful than those zombies had. At least they were mindless and slow. Simon was fast and smart.

“Put your hand under mine to break the hold!” he shouts, clearly frustrated the more you fuck up breaking his holds.

“Not like that! Are you daft?” he grits through clenched teeth, “You’re goin’ to fuckin wind up dead if you keep this up!”

You feel your heart rate speed up and you find yourself almost panicking under his completely oppressive energy. His shouting only sets you more on edge and the tears begin to prick at your eyes once again.

“None of those fuckin’ tears,” he snarls, tightening his hold on you when you squirm and attempt to rid his body weight off of yours, “Do what I told you! You can break the hold if you just fuckin’ focus!”

“Simon, I-I don’t want to do this anymore!” you cry, the tears tumbling down your cheeks as you cry out the words. Your cheeks feel hot and you can barely catch your breath as you weakly punch at his chest.

“There’s no tappin’ out,” he snaps, tightening his grip on you even more. Your body aches where he holds and you know you’re going to be feeling those bruises for days to come.

“Simon!” you practically screech, freeing one hand and harshly slamming your fist down over the hard faceplate.

It seems to startle him enough into loosening his hold and you manage to kick back away from him in your panic, foot hitting him square in the chest in an effort to propel yourself away – putting as much distance as fast as you can between the two of you.

“Simon…” you whimper, voice wobbling, “I am not one of your soldiers. You need to stop trying to train me like I am!”

You watch him adjust his jaw through his mask before he pops his neck. He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you and every hair on your body stands up in pure fear.

He’s on top of you before you even have the chance to say another word. You cry out when the force of his body forces you back and your head cracks harshly against the floor. Your vision blacks out from the force and you groan in pain but he doesn’t stop, a rough forearm pinning against your throat, cutting off your air.

“That was good,” he says, voice cold and devoid of any emotion, “You managed to escape, now do it again!”

Your hands push weakly against him, but you’re worn out and your head is starting to hurt like hell. You open your mouth to say something but his hold on your throat ceases any words from escaping.

You reach up to his face and his cold gaze narrows at you, “You already tried that. It won’t work again.”

But instead of hitting him, your fingers wrap around the face plate and you attempt to push it off – hoping that it’ll obscure his vision enough but he shakes you off with ease.

He catches your gaze and what he sees gives him pause. Wide, teary eyes, red rimmed and filled to the brim with fear. Tears wet your cheeks and he finally notices the way your entire body is tense and trembling beneath him.

“P-Please,” you finally find your voice when his weight eases a bit off of your throat, “I-I don’t want to do this anymore, Simon, please.”

That has his own eyes widening and you take his slackened hold as an opportunity to run away. He watches you scramble up from your spot on the floor and stumble back to the apartment, disappearing within with a slam that makes him flinch. He looks down at his own hands and finds that he can’t conjure up any thoughts that aren’t about you.

You hear him enter the apartment, his heavy footfalls pacing around the living room. You’re hiding in the bathroom, leaning against the door with your knees against your chest to muffle your cries.

He enters the bedroom and pauses, no doubt looking for you before he approaches the bathroom and you feel a brief ping of fear that he’s going to open the door but instead he softly knocks.

“Will you come out so we can talk?” he asks, voice holding none of the cold, harshness that it had for the last few days.

“G-Go away, Simon,” you sniffle.

You can hear him sigh before he follows your request and steps away from the door. You can hear him linger in the bedroom for several more minutes, kicking his boots off before he’s quietly closing the bedroom door and leaving.

The silence and loneliness sinks in once more and you find yourself sobbing into your knees all over again. Your head kills and you feel almost nauseous through your cries from the headache but you can’t stop yourself.

You have no idea how long you cry for but before you know it, the bedroom door opens once again and you can hear the floorboards creak under his weight as he approaches the bathroom door once again.

“I made something for you to eat,” he says through the door, “Figured you might be hungry.” At the idea of food, your stomach growls, “It’ll be waiting for you at the table when you want it.”

You listen to him walk away and you know this is his way of luring you out of the bathroom. Part of you desperately wants to spite him for being so mean to you and refuse his food but the growling in your stomach is too much to bear and you can’t help but clamber to your feet and quietly pull the door open.

When you reach the living room, Simon is facing the TV, giving no indication that he realizes you’ve come out of your hiding place. You sneak into the kitchen to see a bowl of soup sitting nicely at an empty spot. You take a seat and quickly devour the entire bowl, barely taking a break to breathe before it’s completely empty.

You place it in the sink and carefully sneak back out of the kitchen, intending to slide right past him but in your haste you fail to notice that he’s no longer sitting on the couch. Instead, you come face to face with him sitting at the foot of his bed, clearly waiting for you.

You freeze when you see him and all too soon that headache comes racing back to the forefront of your mind.

Simon’s no longer wearing the skull plate and instead wears his usual black balaclava with the skull print on it. He wears a t-shirt and sweatpants, obviously having let himself get comfortable while you hid in the bathroom earlier.

He looks up at you the second you step into the room and the two of you halt in a stalemate, simply staring at one another while you wait for the other to make the first move.

You’re the first to break eye contact when a heavy throb goes through your head, making you close your eyes and bring your hand to your head until it passes. You hear the bed creak when Simon stands up before his hands are cupping your cheeks.

“You hit your head, didn’t you?” he asks, soft and gentle.

You can’t stop yourself from glaring and snapping, “No thanks to you.”

His gaze softens as his hand finds its way to the back of your head, ever so softly prodding at the sizable bump that’s there, “I’m sorry, love.”

“If you’re sorry then why did you do it?” you find those damned tears returning all over again as you continue to glare up at him, “I told you I didn’t like it and I wanted to stop.”

“I know…” he whispers, hands once again cupping your cheeks, thumbing your tears away.

“What was your problem, Simon?” you tearfully ask, sniffling pathetically, “You hurt me. You were scary – scarier than those stupid zombies downstairs. Why did you do that?”

“I got…I was…” he struggled to find the right words before he stepped away from you with a troubled expression, “I was angry— scared. I just—I don’t know.”

“You were scared?” you scoff, “I’m the one who got attacked.”

“You think that wasn’t scary for me?” he asks in disbelief, “You almost got eaten alive on my watch.”

“You sure have a funny way of showing it,” you sniffle, angrily storming over to the bed, letting yourself flop down on the comfortable mattress for the first time in days.

“I know,” he whispers, “Just let me explain, okay?”

You lay there silently, listening to his weight shift where he stands. You take notice of how his scent lingers much more on the blankets now that he’s slept on it. It smells good, you note, musky and delicate. He doesn’t wear anything that smells particularly overpowering.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, “Ever since this shit happened, I’ve been driving myself crazy. I lost contact with my team, my friends. I’m not able to get anymore information on what's goin’ on outside. I’m worried about you, I’m trying my hardest to make sure you can go out there and survive on your own if you need to. I feel like I’m going crazy and I’m scared because I’ve never felt this out of control before.”

You sit up and turn to face him, “How long have you been feeling like this, Simon..?”

“A while,” he mutters, turning his back on you when your gaze starts to feel like too much, “And then you called me a monster and I just…” he trails off, seemingly unsure of how to explain his feelings properly.

“I’m sorry for that, Simon,” you mutter sincerely, reaching out to grab his arm, urging him to turn around, “I never should have said that. And I didn’t mean it, really.”

“Well, you were right, weren’t you?” he scoffs, “I am a monster. Fuck, look at what I did to you – how I treated you. I was punishing you and I never should have.”

“We both made mistakes,” you compromise with a wobbly smile, “We’re dealing with a lot, right? The fucking world is ending and we’ve been trapped in this godforsaken building for who knows how long. It’ll get easier.”

He stares at you for a long moment, lashes fluttering as his gaze softens. You can’t find it in yourself to break eye contact. After a long moment, he seems to decide on something before reaching up and yanking the mask covering his face off.

You feel your breath halt in your chest as your eyes widen, taking in every inch of his newly revealed face. His soft, brown eyes are a juxtaposition to the rest of his ruggedly handsome face. You stand up, never letting your eyes stray from him, a feeling of pure awe coming over you.

“You’re so handsome, Si,” you whisper, reaching forward to brush your fingers over a scar that cuts through his eyebrow to his eyelid, “It’s nice to finally see you.”

“I wanted you to see the real me,” he whispers, “Not the asshole soldier I was.”

“I’m glad you’ve trusted me with this,” you let your fingers wander along his skin, feeling the stubble on his jaw that he hadn’t yet shaved.

“I need to tell you,” he sounds breathy, reaching up and catching your hand in his, pressing your palm flat against his cheek, “I was so scared when I heard you callin’ for me. I thought I was goin’ to be too late and I’d watch you die. I was terrified that I would lose you.”

“Simon…” you whisper in awe, watching how his soft, brown eyes display every tumultuous emotion that he experiences, “I’m sorry. I won’t do anything to worry you again.”

“I want you by my side for as long as you’re able,” he whispers, throat moving as he swallows.

“I won’t go anywhere,” you agree, stepping closer to him, “I promise.”

He leans in at the same time as you, meeting you for a sweet, tender kiss. It lasts only a second before you’re both pulling back to look in each other's eyes. Then, you’re both surging forward for a hungry, heated kiss.

His hands grip your waist, squeezing there as he deepens the kiss. You whimper under his touch, standing on your tip-toes to match the intensity of his kiss.

He moves you backwards, your knees hitting the edge of the bed, causing you to topple down. Simon follows, catching himself on his hands on either side of your head. He only breaks the kiss for a moment to move you further up the bed, easily manhandling you so your head is in the pillows before he’s kissing you all over again.

His hands are rough as they travel over your body, slipping your shirt up just enough to let him touch your bare sides. You quickly realize you’re still wearing your sleep clothes and that you don’t have a bra on.

Clearly, Simon was aware because his hand quickly cups your bare breast with a rough, callused hand. His thumb finds your nipple, flicking over the bud as you whine into his mouth.

He pulls back suddenly, cheeks flushed before he’s fumbling with the hem of your shirt.

“Arms up, sweetheart,” he coos, sickly sweet.

You follow his orders and eagerly lift your arms up for him to tug the fabric of your shirt over your head. Once your breasts are bared to him, he’s leaning down to wrap his lips around one perked nipple while his fingers busy themselves with the other.

You cry out at the feeling of his teeth nipping at the sensitive bud, hands tangling in his soft, curly hair. He groans against your breast at the feeling of your pulling at his hair before he pulls back just a bit, breathlessly whispering, “Such perfect tits.”

“Simon…” you whimper, letting yourself relax into the bed as he switches to mouth at your other nipple, leaving the other to harden in the cool air before his hand travels down your stomach to your shorts, easily slipping underneath the fabric.

“Simon!” you call out again when you feel the heat of his hand cup your folds through your panties.

“Shh, just let me do the work, love,” he mumbled, muffled by the fact he refuses to part from suckling on your nipple.

His tongue drags over your breast, nipping and sucking marks into your skin. As he works the muscle, his hand in your panties remains stationary, just letting you feel the heat of it against your core. The teasing presence only makes you pulse and drool into your panties. You’re positive the fabric must be sticking to you by now from how wet you’ve become from playing with your breasts.

“Your tits are so sensitive,” he mumbles, almost to himself, “Does it feel good, darlin’?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, arching your back to offer up your chest to him all over again.

He grins, a crooked little smile that makes your heart flutter. It was so nice to finally see him smile.

But instead of mouthing at your breasts again, he leans back on his heels and pulls his hand from your panties. You whine at the loss but it’s cut short when he hooks his fingers into them and tugs them down your legs. You lift your hips to assist him but find yourself wincing when an ache goes through your body.

He notices and gently runs the palm of his hands up your thighs, urging you to relax.

“You sore, love?” he asks, voice filled with what you can only call guilt.

“A little…” you admit, biting your lip, “My thighs are killing me, actually.”

He shakes his head at himself and leans down, pressing a kiss next to the scrape on one of your knees as his hands slowly begin to knead the sore muscles in your thighs. You sigh and let your eyes flutter at the feeling.

With your eyes closed, you don’t realize he leans down until you feel a hot, wet tongue slide from your pubic bone to your sternum. Your cunt clenches pathetically at the feeling. When you open your eyes, Simon’s pretty, brown eyes are half-lidded and his tongue hangs out of his mouth. You can’t resist cupping the back of his head and pulling him for a kiss, whimpering and moaning against his mouth.

“Fingers or tongue?” he asks, muffled and messy against your lips.

“What?” your hazy mind can’t quite comprehend what he’s asking of you.

“Do you want my fingers or my tongue?” he reiterates, “I want to make you cum.”

You whimper at that, “B-Both!”

He scoffs, full brows furrowing, “Greedy.”

You find yourself blushing at that but he doesn’t deny your request. He sinks down your body, peppering kisses down your body on the way until he kneels on the floor at the foot of the bed.

He grabs your hips and effortlessly yanks you down so your legs hang off the edge of the bed.

He spreads your thighs apart and you find yourself holding your breath, watching through your lashes as he trails kisses up your thigh, getting closer to where you want him the most. You’re trembling under his attention and it makes you clench pathetically around absolutely nothing. You’re sure he can see the way your cunt drools and leaks with every small kiss he peppers against your skin.

Just when he gets close, he pulls back and kisses back down towards your knee. The teasing has you wound taut, feeling as if you’re almost on the edge without him ever properly touching you.

It feels like hours that he does it, kissing up and down your thighs. Occasionally, he nips at the skin there, swirling his tongue over the burning marks he leaves behind to soothe the sting. Finally, he moves his hand and you think he’s going to finally give you something but all he does is spread your folds apart with two fingers, exposing your hole and clit to the cool bedroom air. The action makes you whine but he pays you no mind.

He carries on kissing your thighs and nipping at your skin. No matter how much you rut your hips, hoping to entice him into touching you and giving you what you really need, he ignores it. He ignores your whines and the cries of his name, ignores the way your cunt clenches and drools around nothing, clit twitching from how much teasing you’re enduring.

The little bud aches, throbbing as it begs for anything – any little touch that he has to offer. He could blow air upon the nub right now and you’re sure you would explode in pure pleasure.

When you sob his name, broken and needier than you’ve ever heard yourself, he finally looks up. His eyelids are heavy, concealing half of his iris and it makes him look positively fucked out.

“Look at me,” he commands, licking his lips slowly, “Right in the eyes, let me see you properly.”

You force yourself to meet his penetrating gaze, almost struggling to compose yourself. You find yourself trapped in the eye contact, almost paralyzed under his intoxicating gaze. He holds you there for what feels like minutes but in reality is probably just a few seconds.

His fingers finally hone in on your clit, pressing against the twitching, hardened bud. You cum immediately, still locked in that intoxicating eye contact. You cry out, hands slapping against the bed as he draws the orgasm out of you with slow circles on the little bud, sticky clicking sounds filling the room and mixing with your wild cries of pleasure. It seems like the high never stops, more and more cum gushing from your cunt and dripping down to stain the comforter beneath you.

Simon watches you with keen attention, taking in every expression you make as he makes you cum against his fingers, the bud throbbing wildly until the orgasm finally dissipates.

When you finally sag against the bed, your thighs fall completely open as the post-orgasm exhaustion quickly hits. You’re left trembling and twitching through the aftershocks, pretty pussy still drooling with every clench of your walls.

Simon takes the opportunity of you coming down to strip himself. He tugs his shirt off over his head and lets his sweatpants drop the floor, carelessly kicking them away. His gaze never leaves you, never leaves that twitching little cunt between your legs.

There’s a slick film of your cum coating your folds and his mouth fucking waters.

Your eyes fly open, not even realizing that you had closed them, when he suddenly cups the back of your thighs and pins you wide open for him.

“Simon…” you pathetically coo, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair when he comes within reach.

“So sweet for me,” he coos, kissing your thigh once again and you’re scared that he’s going to tease you all over again, “A good orgasm got you nice and sweet, huh?”

“Mhm,” you mutter, dazedly looking at him as you feel his breath on your sensitive cunt.

That alone makes you clench around nothing. You nearly whimper out loud when you see his tongue fall from his mouth, glistening with spit before he licks a slow, wide stripe between your folds.

When he comes back up, he holds his tongue out and lets you see the creamy mess of your cum left behind. He makes a show of swallowing every drop in his mouth, making your cheeks flush in pure embarrassment at such a lewd display.

You had no idea Simon would be so fucking filthy in bed but the way his eyes roll back at your taste tells you all that you need to know.

He loudly slurps your clit between his lips, swirling his tongue around the sloppy bud as he whines and groans into your cunt. You tug harshly at his hair at the overwhelming feeling of having your clit doted on so expertly.

His hands keep you pinned open, allowing him to slip his tongue inside you, occasionally taking a moment to visibly swallow every drop of your slick so you can see the way he absolutely savors your taste.

He swirls that offending tongue around your clit again, slurping it back into his mouth before two fingers are prodding at your entrance. You clench against him, the excitement of finally being filled with something making you whimper. Just the sound of you so eager makes him almost want to cum completely untouched.

Your cum generously coats his face and he absolutely loves it. He pulls away suddenly, dark eyes locking onto your face as he pants from how lost he was in eating you out. He slowly presses two fingers inside you, letting them slide in, hugged by the plushness of your walls.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet, love,” he coos, moaning sympathetically when you cry out from the feeling of being stretched on his fingers, “And so warm too, fuck.”

He decides, in that moment, that he doesn’t care if the world is ending outside, he feels nothing but bliss with you. He never wants this to end, he wants to get completely lost in the pure intoxication of you.

He leans down, flattening his tongue against your clit once again. The feeling is heightened now that he’s got his thick fingers stuffed inside you. You clench around him at the feeling of his tongue on the sensitive bud once more.

He suddenly crooks his fingers and your legs helplessly kick in the air at the overwhelming feeling of him pressing and prodding against that gooey little spot inside you. Your hips rabbit up and you practically wail at the overwhelming sensations he’s attacking you with. You squeal his name so sweetly before he finally backs off a bit, letting you sink back into the soft cushions of the bed.

He’s completely drunk off of you, off the creamy cum you gush out for him to lick up, off the lovely sounds you let out from how good he makes you feel. His cock is so painfully hard and he wants so badly to wrap his hand around himself but he knows he’ll blow his load the second he does, so he refrains.

To distract himself from the ache in his cock, he doubles his focus on you and making you feel good. His fingers crook upwards again, prodding your g-spot again with renewed vigor. You cry out, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when he sucks your clit into his mouth, the suction making your thighs tremble.

“I-I wanna cum!” you cry out, fingers still tugging harshly at his hair.

He groans against you but doesn’t dare to part from you, too focused on bringing you to your high to actually goad you into it. His fingers move inside you, fucking you nice and deep, making sure he’s working that sweet little spot inside you as he continues to suck on your clit.

It doesn’t take long before your entire body stiffens and you toss your head back. The choked out cry is music to his ears and his own eyes roll back when he feels the way your walls tighten around him, soaking his fingers generously. Your clit throbs in his mouth before he releases his suction on it, instead choosing to lick the pulsing little bud with the flat of his tongue to gently ease you through the high.

You’re pushing his head away long before he’s ready to part but he willingly backs off nonetheless. His chin is wet with your cum, even dripping down his neck and the sight makes you flush. There’s a loud, squishy noise when he slowly pulls his fingers from the hot clutch of your cunt.

“Scoot back for me, darlin’,” he commands you, slurring a little before he pops his fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean of the mess you left behind.

You do as he says, shakily pushing yourself back so you can lay your head in the pillows. With Simon standing at the foot of the bed, you finally get the chance to take a look at him.

He’s obviously incredibly well built, broad and firm in all the right places. Most notably, he has numerous scars, some that looked like bullet wounds and others that were long and thin.

“Are all those from the military?” you find yourself asking as he carefully crawls onto the bed, jostling you as the mattress moves under his weight.

“Yeah,” he breathes, leaning down to press his lips against yours.

You let him handle your body as he pleases, spreading your legs so he can comfortably situate himself between them. His cock, hard and heavy, rests against your folds and you find your eyes going wide at the sight of it.

“Somethin’ the matter?” he chuckles, like he can hear what you’re thinking.

“That’s not going to fit,” you breathe, unable to tear your gaze off the twitching, fat length of him.

“‘Course it will, love,” he breathes, pecking your lips again, letting his lips trail down over your jaw, “I worked you open real good, all you gotta do is relax and let me in.”

With a minute adjustment of his hips, the tip prods your entrance. He grips the base of his length, carefully pushing forward, mouth dropping open as he feels your hot, wet walls spread around the head of him.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he grunts, “Jus’ let me do the work.”

Your hands fly down to grip his forearms, nails biting harder into the skin there the deeper he sinks into you. The middle of his cock is the fattest, giving you an almost painful stretch that makes your face pinch up in a way that Simon doesn’t like.

He brings one hand to his mouth, licking his thumb before carefully pressing the digit against that sensitive bud. You whimper at the feeling, cunt clutching tight around him, easing more of his length inside. He circles your clit a few more times, watching your face for any clear signs of discomfort. Before long, his hips meet yours, filling you absolutely full to the brim in a way no one ever had before.

He plants both hands on either side of your head, abandoning your clit in favor of simply rutting his hips against yours. His large body hovers over you, shielding you from anything outside of him and you find yourself completely lost in everything that is him – how full he makes you feel, how nice he smells, how safe you feel trapped beneath him like you are.

Your hands wind around his neck, pulling him down so his chest presses against yours. Your breasts squish against his chest and he finds his eyes flickering down just to look at them. The sight makes you smile despite yourself – it’s cute, you think.

Tangling your fingers in his soft curls once again, you bring him down for a kiss. He’s still slowly, carefully rutting his hips against yours, his lower abdomen sliding against your clit as his cock stirs inside you, stretching you and hitting every sweet little spot inside you.

You whimper into his mouth, gasping at the way he makes you feel so full and good while he barely does anything. Your knees bracket against his ribs, squeezing him so tightly you wonder if it hurts but he just continues to kiss you and circle his hips.

“Wanna feel you cum around me,” he whispers, barely parting from your lips to request it, “Just like this, cover my cock. Be good for me.”

You knew you wouldn’t be able to disobey even if you wanted to. With the way he stirs you up and drags against every tender spot inside you all while grinding against your clit the way he is, you don’t stand a chance. Your third orgasm creeps up on you and your back arches just as it washes over you.

Simon groans at the feeling of you cumming around him for the first time – the tight, wet clutch of your cunt feeling better than he ever could have dreamed. As he watches you writhe in his bed, moaning and whimpering his name, he’s overcome with a plethora of feelings that just melt his heart.

He can’t resist pulling you in for another kiss, cupping your jaw as he pulls his hips back until just the head of his cock remains buried in your cunt. You’re still working on coming down from the orgasm he just gave you but he’s greedy – he wants to feel it again. He wants to fuck the orgasm out of you, make you ride it out and gush all over him.

He needs to show you how good he can be for you, hoping that this alone can get across just how much you mean to him. He’s never been the best with words, so he can only hope that this is enough for now.

Your hands press against his chest, aimlessly pushing at him from the overwhelming way he fucks you. You’re so sensitive, pushed into cumming more times than anyone had ever made you before. But he doesn’t show any signs of slowing or stopping. He’s a machine, built for stamina and he’s on a fucking mission now – to make you feel as good as he possibly can.

You’re attempting to push him away, to give your poor, overstimulated body a chance to come down. But he’s having none of it.

“Hands off, love,” he commands breathlessly. But you just stare up at him with dazed, teary eyes, panting and sweaty. He clicks his tongue, “You ignorin’ me, sweetheart?”

He grapples your wrists in his one hand, pulling yours away from his chest and pinning them above your head. He uses this new hold as leverage to really fuck you, pulling back and sinking back in as deep as he possibly can. His tip kisses your cervix, making your thighs tense up at the twinge of pain that comes with having him so deep.

But the pain mixes so addictively with the pleasure that you find yourself getting completely lost in the slow, deep rhythm that he sets. Every time he sinks balls deep, his hips slap against yours and he rubs up deliciously against your clit. The pleasure on your bud doesn’t last long before he’s pulling back again, never allowing you to fully build up to another delicious high.

Simon is lost in the way you whimper and whine. He can swear that he’s never heard anything as incredible as you being denied the pleasure he had been so generous with so far. He likes the desperate look in your eyes; it makes him feel amazing to know that you need him to make you feel good. He’s in charge of your pleasure in that moment and he finds himself relishing in that feeling of control over you.

You look so sweet beneath him, pinned and helpless with teary eyes looking up at him. Your pupils are blown wide from the pleasure his cock brings you as he continues to fuck you nice and deep.

Usually, Simon is a fast and rough kind of guy, but he finds himself thinking that he could definitely get used to a pace like this more often. As long as it’s you that’s underneath him.

It doesn’t take you very long to break, those pretty tears falling down your cheeks as you breathlessly plead with him, “Please, Simon,” your voice cracks so cutely, “I want more!”

He chuckles under his breath and leans down, pressing a tender kiss against your temple before whispering, “What’s stoppin’ you from takin’ more?”

That seems to set you off. You’re bracing your feet on the bed, rutting your hips, rocking yourself against his cock. A moan rips from his chest at the sight of you using his cock like that. His heavy balls press against you and the feeling makes his cock throb, making him realize how badly he needs to cum. But he doesn’t want to give up this little show you’re putting on for him so soon.

You’re so, so wet that he can feel how your messy little cunt squishes around him. You shamelessly soak every inch of him the more you work your own pussy on his fat cock. You tug your hands free from his grip and he’s left clenching the pillows in his fist when he watches your fingers descend.

He thinks you’re going to go for your clit, to push yourself over the edge like you so deserved for being so good for him. But instead, you reach for your own tits. The breath punches out of his lungs as the sight of you meanly pinching and tweaking your nipples as you continue to rock yourself against him.

Simon feels his balls tighten at the sight and he almost thinks he’s going to cum but he suddenly pulls his cock out. You wail in complete misery at the loss, tearfully watching him wrap his hand around the base of his cock, pinching off the impending orgasm.

You flop back down onto the bed, sniffling pathetically as you glare at him for ruining the orgasm you were so beautifully working yourself up to. He smiles crookedly at you, cupping the backs of your knees, crudely pinning them to your chest so your pretty, wet cunt is open and vulnerable to the way he suddenly stuffs himself back inside.

With you completely pinned beneath him in a press, you can’t do anything except cry out and wail in pleasure as he finally fucks you fast and hard. His balls slap lewdly against your ass, your arousal dripping off of them.

His eyes are locked on the way you’re stretched so wide around the girth of him. You’re creaming around him, a milky ring left in your wake every time he pulls out. He doesn’t give you much chance to breathe or collect yours, simply fucking you with everything he has. It’s loud, wet, and fucking messy.

“F-Fuck,” he chokes on the word, voice breaking as it comes out. He’s so close that it hurts, “Play with yourself for me, love, rub your clit.”

Your hand flies down to do as you’re told without a second thought. It only takes a few, quick circles around the hard little bud before you’re cumming with a cute little squeal. Your feet kick helplessly in the air, toes curling from how hard you cum around him.

Simon groans at the sight and feeling of you losing yourself on his cock. You continue to swirl and tap at your clit, forcing yourself to cum harder and harder until you’re squirting around him with a choked off sob of his name.

Simon’s hips never still or falter, fucking you fast and deep to work you through the orgasm. Your cum splatters across his hips, thighs, and chest. It makes his eyes roll up into his head before he lets his head fall back. His jaw opens and he moans, loud and deep as his own orgasm finally washes over him.

His pace falters as you lay there twitching and crying, a few trembling thrusts of his hips as his cock spits rope after rope of cum inside you. He cums longer and harder than he has in a very long time. He continues with short, aborted little thrusts on his sensitive cock as he continues to cum.

Even when the orgasm dissipates, he finds himself fucking into the creamy mess drooling out of your twitching cunt.

“S-Simon-!” you choke out, nails clawing down his shoulders, “S-Sensitive!”

“I know, love,” he pants, almost deliriously, “J-Just one more. G-Gotta fill you up again.”

You can’t do anything but lay back and let him use your cunt as he works to force another orgasm out of his overstimulated cock. He’s gasping and whining as he moves his hips, pulling his cock out only to stuff it back inside. A mixture of your cum and his drips down, soaking his cock, pelvis, and balls. It’s a heady, lewd mess that he can’t bring himself to worry about now but he knows it’ll be a pain to clean up later.

You’re trembling and twitching with every one of his movements, tears dried and new on your cheeks. He feels a pang of remorse for you, you’re tired and overstimulated but he just needs to wring this one last orgasm out and then he’ll let you rest.

“You can be good for me, huh?” he coos sweetly, “Just be sweet and let me, fuck, use this pretty little cunt, yeah?”

“Y-Yeah,” you whimper, nodding your head as your eyelids flutter in exhaustion.

Simon leans down, pressing his lips against yours. You both get lost in the kiss, with your arms wrapped around his neck. He loves how it feels to have you stuffed on his cock while your pretty, sweet body twitches and trembles beneath him. He knows it probably hurts by now and the fact you’re just laying there and letting him use you like this has him reaching his second high.

He chokes on a moan, gasping as he cums for the final time. It’s much more lackluster than his first one but he still fills you up just like you both needed. His cock twitches almost painfully inside you as he slowly rocks his hips, wincing at the overstimulation.

After a few, still moments, he pulls his length free from the soft plushness of your cunt and rolls off of you. You’re both panting, laying on your backs on the bed as you come back to yourselves.

You’re the first one to move, rolling onto your side and wrapping yourself around him. Simon finds himself smiling when he feels the sweet way you snuggle against him, seeking his comfort automatically.

You start shivering, the mess of cum and sweat on your body causing you to become cold. He urges you to sit up despite your protests.

“Let’s take a shower and sleep,” he offers sweetly, supporting your shaky body to the bathroom.

He continues to support you and hold you close through the shower. He finds himself grateful that there’s still hot water because you both certainly need it after such a messy tryst in his bed.

You’re the first to fall asleep, tucked against his chest with your arms wrapped around him like a little koala. His hand strokes up and down your back, just staring into the inky blackness of his bedroom.

Part of him feels like it’s all a dream, to have someone so sweet tucked against him, offering him comfort and feeling safe as they snooze peacefully. A sense of fierce protectiveness washes over him as he finds himself going through plans in his head – what the future may hold.

He’s torn from his thoughts when you shoot up from your deep sleep with a gasp. Your head wildly turns, looking around the room. His hand finds purchase on your back, making you jump before relaxing immediately in recognition.

“Bad dream?” he asks, tugging you gently to lay you back down against his chest.

“Yeah,” you whisper, “I dreamt that I was trapped with them in that hallway again.”

He hums, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, wrapping his arms tightly around you to make sure you feel secure. You go still for a long time and he thinks you fell asleep again but then you ask him a question that surprises him.

“Who are those people in the photos?” you quietly question, “In your living room.”

He hums, rubbing a rough hand up and down your shoulder and arm, “My teammates. Friends, I guess.”

“You guess?” you chuckle.

“Yeah,” he breathes, “Task Force 141; Captain John Price, and Seargets John ‘Soap’ MacTavish and Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick.”

“Soap is a silly name,” you comment, grinning up at him, resting your chin against his chest, “What about you?”

“Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley,” he responds with ease.

“Do you know where they are?” you ask.

It’s an innocent question but it sends a pang of hurt to his chest. If he were a weaker, less trained man, he may have felt tears pricking his eyes, “I don’t know,” he pauses for a moment before continuing, “I was in contact with Soap when everything started goin’ to shit. Lost contact with him though. He’s a tough bastard though, I’m sure he’s fine somewhere out there. I don’t know where the other two were or are.”

“If they’re even half as good as you, I’m sure they’re all fine,” you offer optimistically.

Simon hums again, reaching a hand up to brush a stray flyaway off of your forehead. His big hand cups your cheek, stroking his thumb over your lips which you offer a gentle kiss against.

“All I’m worried about now is you,” he confesses softly, “As long as you’re safe, I’ll be happy. I’ll do anything to make sure you’re okay.”

“I am,” you smile, laying back down to nuzzle against his chest, “I’m okay as long as you’re here.”

He wraps his arms around you again and closes his eyes, letting himself sleep peacefully with you held safe against him.

It’s not even a week later that you’re sitting on the couch with him, peacefully watching a movie with a full belly after cooking a quick dinner with him, that you hear a loud, mechanical thump and you’re plunged into complete silence and darkness. Your heart jumps and races in your chest, mindlessly grappling onto Simon’s arm as he sits still beside you.

“What happened?” you ask, whispering as if you’re scared to speak any louder.

“Power went out,” he responds, not sounding the least bit perturbed, “Knew it was comin’. Water’s probably out now too.”

“What do we do?” you ask, the tremor of fear in your voice practically breaking his heart.

He stands up and you whimper in fear when he’s out of your reach. You can hear him moving around in the dark before a bright, blinding light lands on you.

“We can’t stay here for much longer,” he responds, “We’ll have to move out and find somewhere with more resources.”

“How long have you been planning this?” you ask, getting to your feet to follow him down the hall to the bedroom.

“Ever since the news stopped reportin’,” he responds, grabbing a large backpack from the closet, “Let’s pack up.”

You linger beside him and he looks at you with a raised brow, “I’m scared, Simon.”

His gaze softens and he walks up to you, cupping your cheeks tenderly, “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promises, “We’re goin’ to go out, find a small place to hunker down. We’ll look for a generator or a vehicle and get somewhere safe. You trust me, don’t you?”

You nod your head, “Of course I do.”

“Good,” he smiles, kissing your forehead, “Now take this backpack and fill it with what’s left of our canned food, alright? I’m goin’ to pack everything else we need, don’t worry about a thing.”

He offers you a flashlight, which you gratefully take and click on. You’re glad that he gives you an easy task to focus on. You take the smaller backpack he offers you and make your way to the kitchen. You only have about 5 cans of food left and you carefully place them inside the bag before opening the refrigerator to pack a few full bottles of water that you have stored in there. You make sure to toss in a can opener just in case before you place the backpack on the couch.

Simon emerges from the room with the large, military backpack slung over his shoulder.

“You get it all?” he asks, taking a seat to shove his boots onto his feet.

“Yeah and a couple water bottles,” you respond, approaching him slowly.

“That’s perfect,” he praises, looking over at you, “You should go get dressed. Jeans and a hoodie. Put your sneakers on and make sure they’re tight, got it?”

You nervously do as you’re told, disappearing into the bedroom to quickly dress yourself under the flashlight. You can hear Simon moving around in the living room, heavy boots thumping against the floor with every step he takes.

You toss the hoodie over your head and make your way back to Simon, who stands in the living room, looking out the window. The sun is just beginning to come up over the horizon, casting a dim amount of sunlight to come through.

He turns to look at you when he hears you approach.

“There you go,” he hums, pulling the hoodie up over your head and tightening the strings, “Keep your neck covered. We’ll find you some better clothing somewhere along the way.”

You nod your head and take a glance over his shoulder out the window. You can barely see the ground from your position but you can see people shuffling around on the streets below. A pang of fear goes through you as you realize that they’re most definitely not normal people – the streets are crawling with those undead freaks.

Simon leads you to the door and unsheaths a weapon for you – a machete he had taught you to wield with relative ease. You grip it in your hands, nervously twirling it around until you find a comfortable position. Simon nods his head and pulls out a combat knife, holding it low at his side before opening the door.

The descent to the lobby is relatively easy, you walk over the undead that have already been taken care of in the stairwell.

“I took care of these already,” he explains without you even having to ask, helping you jump over a pile of 3 zombies at the foot of the stairs.

“You got more kills under your belt than me,” you comment, mostly in jest to lighten your mood.

Simon huffs under his breath, slowly pushing open the door to the lobby, “You have no idea.”

You squint and turn off your flashlight when you step into the well lit lobby. The sun is now above the horizon, allowing you to see with ease once again.

Simon remains in front of you, making your way to the double front doors. You peek around him, heart racing in your chest as your grip on your weapon tightens.

“Are you ready?” he asks, casting a glance over his shoulder.

“No…” you confess, shuffling closer to him.

“Everything will be okay,” he promises firmly and you actually believe him.

When he pushes open the door, the groans of the undead fill your ears and you find your eyes darting frantically around the streets that you can now see with terrifying clarity.

Hundreds of undead swarm the streets, stumbling and groaning as they shuffle around aimlessly in search of food. Simon reaches down and takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You know it’s going to be the fight of your life but with Simon by your side, you have faith that you’re going to make it through and find somewhere safe together.

property of rowarn; do not modify, repost, or translate.

#simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost smut #ghost x reader #cod smut #cod x reader

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writingmochi · 9 months ago

Text

part 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

soundtrack (spoilers for part 2!) | part 2

prologue: a town called valentine

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“my name is heeseung.” he smiles.

1. stay soft, silly

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what was that for?”

“to stop you. she doesn’t like it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“deal.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you like how my walls are sucking you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you can cum in me-“

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

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

“breed me then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“y-you.”

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

“heeseung…”

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

“heeseung!”

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

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

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

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

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

“still a tie, huh?”

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

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

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

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

“we don’t need to discuss that.”

“no, we don’t,”

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

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

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

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

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

your parents who knew heeseung’s parents.

this will be awkward as fuck to experience.

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

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

“no.”

“what?”

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

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

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

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

“how? they’re in me, heeseung.”

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

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

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

“whatever, i have another thing to do.”

“does it involve the baby?”

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

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

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

“what the- what do you mean?”

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

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

“i’m gonna be a dad.”

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

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

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

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

“it’s fucking (y/n).”

“okay, now hold on!”

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

“SINCE WHEN DID YOU TWO HOOK U-“

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

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

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

“yoon keeho’s party?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“yo!” jimin replied.

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

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

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

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

“my mom is an ob-gyn doctor.”

“miss (y/n)!”

“wear this!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“for you, miss (y/n)…”

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

she drew you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“MISS (Y/N) IS GOING TO BE A MOM!”

“miss (y/n)!”

“no wa-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“carpool picking you up?”

“yeah, my roommate and her boyfriend.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“no, we didn’t fuck today-“

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

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

“which are?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you’re definitely not his style.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“wha, what’s this?”

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

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

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

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

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

“you gotta have to thank heeseung for that.”

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

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

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

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

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

“from beomgyu?”

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

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

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

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

“hey, who rang the be-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

“hey, uh, sheep!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“HEESEUNG HYUNG IS A DAD?!”

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

“shut up!” sunoo exclaimed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“hello?”

“that will not work, (y/n).”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“how’d you kno-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“hey, (y/n).”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“TWINS?!”

2. katana-like knife

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

lee heeseung: threatening much. i’m in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“yeah, 3, 2… 1!”

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

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

“yeah… the babies are ours-“

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

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

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

“WE’RE GOING TO BE IN-LAWS.” you can hear mama cheer as both of the women twirl around the small space, making you feel even more guilty for breaking the immersion as you stop budging away from heeseung’s hold. rolling your eyes, you stare at heeseung and lean in close to his ear, whispering.

“bad fucking idea…”

“at least they’re happy, right? well, i won because of that.”

mama interrupts both of you as she gives you both an enormous hug while heeseung’s mom comes from behind. you could see the tears coming out of mama’s eyes who rested her head against your shoulder.

“ughh, too tight.”

“stop it, honey! (y/n) looks so uncomfortable.” papa reminded.

“oops, sorry!” your mom lets go of her hold as heeseung’s mom slotted between the two of you as she pushes in on the excess fabric of your clothes, making you grip both sides of your top and pull it backward so she can see your bump already showing.

“hi, baby!”

“it’s babies.” heeseung’s dad cuts in as his wife follows with, “there’s two of them?”

“i swear to god.” heeseung’s old man brushes his face, unbelievable that his wife didn’t see the two sacs from the ultrasound as you give your mom a nod, her hands carefully holding onto your waist.

“fraternal twins,” you confirmed to her as you watched another batch of fresh tears coming out of her eyes.

“hello, you two. you’re going to have the best mom ever.”

“and dad too.” heeseung’s mom replied as she moved to stand in front of you two, seeing his grown son seemingly glowing as she spoke of him being the best dad to his two unborn children.

“okay. i gotta have to make the red meat well done then.” mama cuts out as she hastily moves to the kitchen to cook back her meat-based meal, letting auntie lee replace her place as she caresses the bump gently.

“how long has it been?” she asked as you opened your mouth to reply.

“we did the ultrasound two weeks ago. so it’s week 12 now.” heeseung cuts you off as she gazes back at her son.

“what have you two already prepared?”

“we gave a letter to the university for future parents and they agreed to let me take online classes entering 5 months because i only have three classes, one is that's doing a study case, and they let heeseung have parental leave if i give birth. i haven’t found the right doula yet but my supervisor at the daycare has a connection to one and i think it will be her. she has given me the number so i just have to text her,” you answered.

“is it near campus?” she replied.

“yeah, because i don’t want to graduate late. that’s why i decided to stay near campus during it.” you have thoughts on if you should just take a break this semester to focus on your pregnancy or not multiple times by now. but, of course, the rivalry comes back as you still want to keep pace with heeseung and your friends who will be graduating next semester.

“you should take a semester leave, (y/n).” heeseung cuts off your thought as you peek at him.

“i’ve already got what i wanted from the uni and it’s fine, heeseung. i can keep up.”

“well, you can, but what if you don’t take care of the babies?”

“of course, i can take care of the babies-“

“not by being stressed over college.”

“heeseung-“ you turn your body towards him as you grip both of his upper arms, firm hands holding him as you stare down at him. “i know what’s best for me. i know what my limits are. i’ve trusted you enough with the food but you should also trust me to know how to take care of myself outside of nutrition.”

your teeth are grinding against each other as your fiery gaze stays on him, even as you let go of the grip. it stays for a few more seconds as you turn back to head to the dads who seem to be forgotten by the sofa, seeing papa teary-eyed as he hugs and kisses your head before you let heeseung’s dad hug you.

his mom turns towards him, cupping his cheek. “she knows what she’s doing, heeseung.”

“but how should i know it’s right? cause that’s not right for me. my friend’s mom said that a pregnant woman should focus on preparing herself for her birth and doing college doesn’t seem to prepare her for that.” heeseung sighed as he looked at his mom, not expecting a slight hurt on her face.

“i was still doing my job when i was pregnant with you, heeseung. your dad trusted me for that cause he knows my limits, might be even more than i do. let her be and you might learn that she knows how to take care of herself, too.” her hand brushed away the fringe on his forehead, eyes glistening as she let out a small warm smile at him. the hurt falling away as heeseung sees her mom’s signature smile of knowing before she brought him in his arms, hugging him tight as he glances at you who is giving him a small look with a tight-lip smile before you turn away to the dining room.

heeseung stares at the glow-in-the-dark stars sticking on the ceiling. his back being stretched out on the floor as he laid on the comforter beside the single bed where you’re still playing with your phone. he remembered how he begged—trying to persuade—his parents to bring him home with them. but knowing that he’ll only be staying for one night and you two are “together”, they decide for him to stay with you instead. you can see how his fuming breath was held as you glanced at him with an unidentifiable look at the dining table, his parents believing you would let him stay in your bed.

but he insists on lying down on the floor, knowing the history between the two of you they don’t know, as you silently agree.

printed pictures still hang on one side of the room when he looks at them as long as the bedside lamp is still on. he remains silent, eyes tired from looking at his phone so much to distract him from his reality when he hears the rummaging movement on the mattress as you put the phone on the table.

“well, night, heeseung.” the click of the lamp is big in the white-noised room as darkness envelops the space, letting in the moon and streetlights outside beam their shine inside. your eyes easily adjust to the surroundings as you puff your one-less pillows on the bed to find the right position—knowing the ache of sleeping in the wrong position when you are carrying two fetuses inside you.

“since when did you work in a daycare?”

the man’s words overcome your action as you brush the cover of the pillow.

“why do you wanna know?” you put the pillows in the right position as you lay your head and back against it.

“since your mom proclaimed that you’ll be the mom ever.”

heeseung is reminded of the way you look when your mom says that, a look of pride coming out of your eyes as you unconsciously nod knowingly. even if you and him are close by proximity—by being your moms’ children, by being schoolmates, by having roommates who stay in proximity with each other—there’s still something that you don’t know about each other. because if the opposites know, they can use it as leverage to bring any of the two down.

“had a few babysitting gigs during high school days. i started to like it more and decided when i go to hybe, i’ve volunteered for a non-formal school for children and more. i decided to do a part-time job at a daycare and yeah…” you replied, laying down by your side as if you could see heeseung beside you when he is, in fact, below you.

“it doesn’t match with your major though.” heeseung gives a snide comment as you sigh loudly.

“so what if a business major can’t connect with my passion for childcare- fuck me.” you stopped to remind yourself to stop taking the bait from heeseung because you know he was making these comments to break your confidence within yourself. you could discuss how making and taking care of a business could resemble making and taking care of a child, but with the way he had pissed you off today in more ways than one, you rather stick that thought to yourself and instead, take offense towards him.

“why did you wrap your arm around my shoulders?”

heeseung glances towards the bed, seeing your silhouette on the top forming a dark shadow because of your comforter shielding it.

“i had to. so they know the babies are ours,” he replied with the thought that first came to mind after he already had his arm behind you—blaming his underlying consciousness for doing that.

“and it makes them believe we’re together when we’re not. look at us now.” both of your arms stretch out of the comforter to tell him just how big the situation you got yourself into cause how many white lies must you tell your parents to hide that this is because of a hookup, not because you are romantically linked?

your staggered giggles drop as you try to glance downwards at him, the arm nearest to the floor left hanging as heeseung didn’t comment on what you said. “well, this just got more complicated.”

“our situation is complicated since the start, (y/n).”

“well, i know who to blame for making our strings get more tangled with our parents cause fuck you, heeseung.”

he saw the lone middle finger standing tall from the silhouette of your figure before you picked yourself up and lay all your weight on the bed, turning the other side as heeseung followed; both of you staring at the opposites of the room, knowing that your bodies needed to rest so you can face each other again in the morning.

the time between that night and how you both lived after you went back to your own places near campus was a week when you texted him about the doula that you had told at your parent’s home. the car was left in neutral with the handbrake lifted as heeseung waited at the daycare where you work. his eyes gaze at the differing modes of transport each guardian is picking up the kids with before looking at the lobby as he sees you and another attendant saying goodbyes to the kids. he watches as a few of them hug you and even a few let their cheek rested against your growing bump before you take a glance forward at them who is going back to be with their parents, noticing his car for a few seconds before you return inside to take your items.

the backpack is hanging off your shoulders as you take another sliced fried potato from the container when you enter the passenger’s seat beside his driver’s one, resting your back against the seat with your bag there to support you. “hello! i’ve sent you the address, right?”

he stares at you with his squinting eyes, “you should not eat that.”

“it’s cravings, heeseung. it’s totally normal. the doula can count me on that.” you chew another fry as heeseung lets out a mumble under his breath as he moves the handbrake and puts the gear to drive, reeling the car forward as he drives you to the doula’s office. both of your moms have suggested several doulas for you to choose from, but you reminded them you’re having twins. so having a doula who specializes in taking care of moms birthing multiples will be helpful as it is also your first time.

playfully, you fly a french fry like an airplane towards heeseung as he drives, like the usual time you try to feed kids at the daycare. it nudges against his lips a few times before he bit it, pulling it off your fingers; making you let out a chuckle cause he can’t even resist it himself.

the parking lot was pretty barren as you only saw a few vehicles when you both walked out of the cars. you adjust the backpack once again on your back as the chime from the car tells you it is now locked as you enter the office building.

thanking the receptionist, you and he stood in front of the doula’s office as you knocked the door.

the door opens as a soft-spoken woman says from the inside, “miss (l/n)(y/n)?”

“yes, i am.”

“oh, come in. come in.” the door widened as heeseung could see the things inside the large office room. a desk in one corner and a cabinet stood behind it. accolades and certifications by the desk with a sofa on the corner beside the door. a box of what seems to be baby toys beside the sofa as posters are hanging on the wall. from the anatomical look of a baby inside their mom’s uterus to words of encouragement towards mothers.

“i’m haseul. nice to meet you.” the woman shook your hand as she then glanced at heeseung who was still wandering around.

“oh, uh, this is heeseung, the babies’ daddy.” you refer to his name as he looks at the lady, shaking her hand as she looks between the two of you.

“so, both of you aren’t married or dating-“

“no, we’re childhood friends and hooked up, and this happened.” heeseung blurts out as you raised your eyebrows, poking your tongue in the cheek. haseul nodded her head as she let both of you sit down in front of the desk.

“first, congratulations on the twins. you must be nervous to find that out.”

“of course, especially as a first-time mom. but, i’m feeling pretty okay.”

“that’s good, i’ve also sent you the questionnaire for you to fill on your plan for giving birth…” haseul’s voice traces out as heeseung glances at the portrait frame of her holding onto a baby with a mom, a glance at the book about post-partum, and a baby doll on top of the cabinet right in front of a corner window. he could only catch onto some words he recognized from jeongin telling him—birth, dilation, cramps, anesthesia, cesarean—as he sensed himself getting overwhelmed, especially when he had the second preliminary match in two days and his gig in being the documentation for a baseball match for hybe uni too.

his thumbs caressed his fingertips as he sensed the sweat forming on his palm, the same feeling he has every time he has to go to match. to then realize just how ready you seem by how eloquently you say the words for your requests to the doula like you’ve grown up much more than he is even though both of you are the same age. sure, he felt the leverage the first time when he sent you food and a few tips he makes beomgyu do; but his knowledge couldn’t compete with yours and it scares him to know he is losing his stance from above you. to know that you’re much more ready than him.

“heeseung…” he heard someone calling for him, before something wrapped around his wrist, taken aback to see you brought him back to the room he was in.

“sorry… what did you say?” heeseung replied as haseul gave him a warm smile.

“i’ve heard from (y/n) that you have known some knowledge of pregnancies but i could give you some sources to read because it is your first time as a dad as well.” the woman said to him calmly, looking at heeseung as if she can read his body language. your hold on his wrist stays as you rub the inside of his wrist with your thumb. “we have also discussed that (y/n) will try the normal route with water birth and if she can’t handle it, she’ll be going with cesarean. we could also do an appointment every two weeks as both of you are students now, but it is best if you come so you can understand each process as she is entering the second trimester.”

“i understand. i’ll try my best to set my schedule so i can join her.” heeseung glanced at you, who was giving a nod before you let go of your hold as he seemed to be anchored back in the room. the woman gives a small smile as she starts a lecture on the process of pregnancy, childhood, and parenthood. another class that heeseung doesn’t want to get in the first place, but knowing his determination to be the best dad ever—as what his mom believes him to be—he follows along with writing notes in his book as you have with your laptop. the class that he has to pass so he can take care of his children as best as he can.

even with the music booming from around his space, heeseung still felt like something was different. his eyes rested on the plastic-colored cup filled with a concoction of alcohol he didn’t know—he could taste the gin and what seemed to be fanta in it. the sigma mu’s frat house lits up in motion as he eyes the way the expensive big-ass speakers are scattered around the room, gazing at the familiar faces of his peers and juniors he has seen while walking around campus.

something stirs within him as he eyes his friends who are here—beomgyu who is by the speaker as he talks with the dj, jimin with his dance crew friends, jeongin with his class friend, while heeseung sits with sunoo and sunghoon on either side of him. that’s when he caught onto the silhouette of some familiar faces every time he comes across a certain person; every time he comes across you.

“excuse me, gang.” heeseung would like to thank himself for being able to stand up so stable even with the nearly empty cup, excusing himself from his basketball teammates to walk towards the frat boys of sigma mu to find the vp and his girlfriend by his side.

“winter…” he calls with the nickname he heard you and others call her before as said girl turns towards him with her boyfriend’s arm still behind the sofa.

“lee heeseung.” she spoke out with a grin on her face, “what makes you come in front of us?”

“i was wondering,” ‘fuck it’ heeseung drinks up the whole liquid that remains inside the cup, hoping that his alcohol tolerance still be able to support him to be stable, “has (y/n) ever talked to you about a doula check-up or some other thing?”

“she should’ve told me if there’s gonna be a checkup but i don’t think there is one nearest from now.” minjeong replies as she lets sungchan take care of her drink so she can comfortably talk to the boy in front of them.

“ah, really?”

“yeah!” minjeong replied before giving another smile. that’s when someone crashes to wrap their arms around minjeong and sungchan, making the two jump as they turn to see ryujin’s head between both of them before giving minjeong a peck on the temple.

“hey, (y/n)’s baby daddy. whatchu up to?”

heeseung chuckles as he looks between the two girls—”no wonder you have them as your friends, all of them are similar after all”—before he opens his mouth.

“just checking what’s (y/n) up to-“

“well, she’s not here. for your information.” ryujin lets out a smirk, “you must really wanna talk to her about something.”

“a doula appointment.” sungchan replied, “and you know how (y/n) is about…” the boy glances at, “him.”

heeseung’s teeth grit against each other as he senses they are hiding something from him. maybe because of your doing so you can prove to everyone that he isn’t as committed to his children as he spoke about.

“you and minjeong aren’t home, so i presume (y/n) is with chaer-“

“someone’s calling my name?”

heeseung sighs as he turns towards the voice of chaeryeong who is holding two cups of drinks as she gives one to ryujin.

“he’s asking about (y/n).” minjeong nods toward chaeryeong when she lets out a small ah before turning her head to stare at heeseung.

“since chan here invited all four of us at the frat party, she really wanted to be here but, of course, cause she’s preggo with YOUR children, she couldn’t. but all of us went out of the apartment together and she was holding a duffle bag of some sort.”

“where is she going?” heeseung doesn’t hesitate to ask, making your three friends look at each other and giggle.

“you seem desperate enough. she’s at the park near our apartment complex. she complained about needing a light workout because of how much her back is hurting.” ryujin said as heeseung could picture the park, knowing where you lived because he had picked you up for your trip back home for the weekend.

“okay, thanks all of you.” heeseung places the cup on the table beside the sofa where minjeong sits and turns away, letting the sense of fresh air flowing inside the frat house guide him to the nearest exit as he arrived on the pavement, feeling the stuffiness inside him getting lighter as he gave a text in his group chat he’ll be leaving early.

the walk there was pleasant, to say the least, because the suburban town the campus is in is pretty sparse compared to the city where heeseung and you live. there is enough place for it to be called a big town but not enough skyscrapers to be called a metropolis. and with the inconsiderable amount of apartment complexes available near campus, he already pinpointed the park where you might be.

crossing the black-and-white stripes, he arrived at one of the entrances of the park where he still could see a few people doing their activities inside—night jogging, playing chess under the streetlights, and a couple who was on a date. he was reminded of what ryujin said about how you might need exercise, but the duffle bag says to him you might stay in one place rather than walking around the park as the main event of your exercise time.

heeseung’s feet instantly brought him to the place that he had gone before in this park as it is the same park near where sunghoon, jay, and jake live—maybe they live in the same complex as you do—when he finds the silhouette lightly jog behind the trees from the path he is on. the sound of rubber meeting the concrete slaps across the night’s atmosphere as he sees you in the middle of the basketball court, wearing a sweatshirt where he could see the bump pushing against the fabric. the basketball bouncing between your palm and the ground creates the familiar sound as you jog toward the ring and shoot your shot. the ball hits the backboard enough that it bounces into the basket.

“fuck yes…” you exclaimed as you grabbed the bouncing ball into your hand, heaving as you brushed the sweat of your skin right underneath the spotlight shining on the court.

that’s when you pick up the scraping on the concrete and clap when you turn around to look at the last person you want to see tonight.

“you still got it,” heeseung commented, making you scoff as you took a few steps back so you stood adjacent to the free throw circle. holding up the basketball between your hands as you tried to remember the position before pushing towards the ring. the basketball curves as it hits the edge of the box instead.

“dammit!”

“you spun your ball,” heeseung replies as the ball flies into his arm, naturally guiding it into a dribble as he walks towards you.

“i didn’t.”

“your wrist was twisted and it makes your hand doesn’t flop straight towards the ring.” he walks towards your side as he shows you the way to hold it, making you glance at the arm muscles that form from holding the ball so much as he throws the ball, creating a perfect arch that it bounces on the back of the rim before it flies and the basket catches its fall. your body immediately reaches for it before heeseung can as you return to your spot whilst dribbling alternating between left and right.

“i know.” you lightly roll your eyes as you grab onto the basketball once again, wiping your sweat palm against your sweatshirt before you feel the right grip as you return to your position, reminding yourself to let the ball fly and not twist your ball before you threw it.

you heard a click of the tongue as you saw a pair of hands reaching to hold yours, making your hand move to the position as you picked up heeseung’s breath beside your ear. startled, your shoulder nudges against his chest as you hear a small “ack” before you throw the basketball, seeing it twirl in the air. you can hear heeseung saying “i told you so.” before it bounces against the backboard, but you are ready as you stride towards it to grab the ball before heeseung catches it and you quickly do a layup, gliding the ball as it bounces right at the small box above the rim as it bounces inside. you turn your body to face him, head tilted with a smug smile as the ball bounces before it rolls to heeseung’s feet.

but the smile falls as you see heeseung who is in his element, walking back to the three-point line and shooting his shot as the ball, once again, creates a perfect arc. the basket catches it into its net as heeseung walks towards the center of the court with a wide grin on his face. the ball bounces near you as you hold it and dribble once more, glancing at it, the court, and heeseung once again as you shake your head, scolding yourself to take things slow for your and your babies’ sake. the sudden epiphany makes your eyelids flutter as you dribble away at a steady walking pace around the court.

your footsteps are met with another as heeseung’s legs stride towards you, a smirk on his face showing as he replies, “that’s why you were put in the point guard position.”

“hmm…” your reply is small as you continue to dribble away the basketball, making you and he walk around the court together before he cuts through the silence.

“why did you stop playing basketball in high school?”

your body stood still as you let your muscle memory do your job of dribbling the ball, shifting your head towards his even if you look away.

“you were, well, it seems to be still are, good at it,” he added.

the memories of your first year in high school from the extracurricular showcase come back as you are already determined to stop playing basketball, focusing on doing something else that you were interested in.

“i got tired of it,” you replied, but heeseung seemed to notice that it was not all the truth.

“and…”

the ball stops bouncing as you hold it against you, wrapping your arm across your front along with the ball as you glare at him and reply, “you.”

“me?”

“yeah, you. i stopped playing because of you.” you turn around and set your eyes on the bench where your bag is. your water bottle calling for you so you can hydrate yourself as you give in.

“really, huh? wow, that was another victory i didn’t expect-“

“fucking hell, heeseung. that’s why- this-“ you gulped down your saliva, “what you become because of it is why i stop. i know our moms are outstanding basketball players at their time and we’ve gotten the signal to be like them but-“ you hold back as you throw the bottle inside the bag, holding yourself down as your hands form fists.

basketball has always been a large part of your life before you were even born. your mom and heeseung’s met because of their love of basketball as they became skilled players together. your mom and dad meet up because of basketball. you still remember the amount of pictures of your parents in their high school days in their basketball jerseys in the photo albums. even if they don’t pursue it professionally, it still becomes a large part of their life as it also spills onto you.

with the amount of time you have interacted with children—as it makes you see your own experience as a child in a different view—many of them like to mimic what their parents do before they form their own sense of self. you can see it with the way one child at the daycare is always playing doctor with dolls, figures, and plushies because one of their parents is a doctor. you were like that. you’ve heard and seen just how impactful basketball is to your mom that you want to be just like her, making you join the teams during your elementary and middle schools.

to see and feel the influence of your rival during practice and tournaments around you was overwhelming.

the tug-of-war between the basketball in between both of your hands is just the beginning of what kinds of rivalry you and him have during practice. even if your coaches assigned you to the same team, you or he, depending on who is first, will reach out to the coach to be put into the other team. even if you two had to practice together, hidden aggression is flying to the roof, which includes passing the ball so hard that it had even made your nose bleed. as time goes on and the many matches you and he have to compete in as you two have to watch each other to “encourage” each other’s team, you had notice the way you fell out of love of basketball because of how there are more bad memories associated with it even if you were being trusted as a captain for one season and scoring many buzzer beaters to let your team and school win the tournament.

“you’ve become so much better with it as i lost interest. i still remember when the coach brought me to the nurse’s office cause you passed the ball so hard that it hit my face. in the middle of practice for the last season in middle school, that’s when i knew…” you take steps closer as you now stand in front of him.

“i knew i’m in a losing battle against you.”

your muscles twitched as you wanted to let out a smirk when you noticed the hidden expression heeseung failed to hide, the little shock he had gotten to show. yet, the emotion that is enveloping you held it down, as you now had to tell him the truth. why your rivalry seemed to expand outside of the scope that both of you are in.

“that’s why i quit basketball. that’s why i decide to pursue my own path even with you tailing behind me to comment on my every move. because i am sick of you. yet, i held back. i had to retaliate, just like what i did on that fucking playground when we were 5. cause i’m not afraid of you even though i know i’ll lost in the end.” you chew the inside of your cheeks as heeseung seems to read your face while letting his brain figure out what you meant.

“that’s why i wanted a fucking truce.”

with the way your facial muscles contort, it hurts you more and more as you feel the tears of pain forming, harboring the feelings you have felt for nearly two decades now. with your hand raised, you wiped the small drop of tear as you let out a huge breath, feeling just a bit of the weight in your rivalry falls off—right along with you.

as you let your body sit on the concrete ground, you push yourself back slowly as you settle and lay on it. heeseung’s conflicted face peeking from your vision while you’re trying to blur it out by focusing on the night sky. though the light pollution is still around you, you can still see tiny specks of stars behind the shadow of clouds of the night. stretching your back on the ground as you let your backbone rest after trying to make you stand upright while carrying two growing fetuses.

eyelids close, you let nature take control in calming your emotions and let heeseung process the information himself. the first time you truly open up yourself behind the mask of your persona—maybe when he stays the night in your childhood room is one as you recall your feet resting against his sleeping figure, contemplating if you want to wake him up or not before gazing at the dusting basketball that you decide to bring back to your apartment after papa helps in blowing more air so it doesn’t sag too much.

the sound of rustling leaves seems to be louder as you rest still, hearing a muffled thump beside you as you open your eyes, looking at your feet to then find another pair lying down right beside yours.

“you’re the one that was throwing a fit and ruining my toy truck after i apologized.” you sighed as you took a peek to see heeseung’s head turning towards you, asserting dominance once again before looking back. you knew that if you replied with the same vibe to assert your own dominance, it would actually break you apart faster than the rate that you are now. however, you have one question that will be the right one to ask him about.

“did you mean that?”

“‘mean’ what?”

“the apology? did you mean that? cause i want you to look at it from my eyes, lee.”

heeseung traces back to that memory when he sees you teary-eyed face and his mom beside him, the boys he was playing with snickering on the side as they saw him getting in trouble with his then-friend. the “sorry” mumbled out of him with his eyes on you but mind on the boys, who seemed to not snicker at him, but at you for being a pissy fit. but, deep down, he knew…

“i meant it.” his reply makes you turn your head, mirroring his form as you let out a slight pout.

“with that smile you were giving? hell no-“ you rolled your eyes.

“i genuinely meant it. the boys that were there, they were behind you and they were laughing at us. i had to juggle facing you and them. i had to look fierce yet still can give you an apology. maybe that’s why you see the smirk that you see. i was a fucking child, (y/n). we’re not as good as we are not in hiding complicated emotions to only let out one.”

your chest rises and falls as you see the apology smirk in a different light. you don’t know if you should easily believe that or not, but after taking it into consideration, you could feel a small part of your inner child healing up before you realize the damage that you also have done to him.

“if it is genuine; i’m sorry, then. about the truck. you know how i felt now and why i did that.” you return to look at the sky once again as you hear the rustle beside you before peeking at heeseung who is also staring into the night, listening to him humming before you return to gaze back again.

“what would happen if i actually have the emotional intelligence to know that you were sincere that day?” your words cut off the silence as you felt the guilt pouring for it to be transformed into humor that was reciprocated well by heeseung’s chuckles.

“well, we wouldn’t have these two.” he playfully poked your belly, making you let out a small shriek before holding onto his wrist as you held his hand down between the two of you and you pivoted your head to see him.

“in all seriousness, i think we might have been the friends our moms see us to be because let me tell you, they see us differently than what we are having.” his words are replied with a hum as you added,

“i notice that too. glad we can be more civil in front of them.”

“we still could, you know.”

with the way you didn’t hold on to his wrist tightly, you felt the limb moving under your touch before his palm rested underneath your own. the wind blows against your sweaty top as it gives you shivers from the cold, hoping that your own temperature and a lifeline can help warm it up. and you can feel it warmer as you see heeseung pivot to mirror you. his fingers slid between yours as if he knew the little shivered breath you led out.

“have each other’s backs. emulate what they want.”

your eyes are galloping to the way the spotlight shines half of his as the other one is cast in shadows from facing the concrete. you could smell a faint scent of alcohol on him but with the life in his eyes, you knew he wasn’t drunk. the way his eyes are also peering with slight twitches as before connecting with your gaze.

pushing one side of your upper body, you cup onto heeseung’s cheek as he leans up to connect your lips. your shoulder is pushing down against the ground as heeseung’s grip on your hand tightens, making it steady as you can hear his muffled hum from your kiss. your fingers curl to hold yourself up better before you feel his other hand reach for your waist and push you down so you both lay on the side.

both of you take turns to take a breath as you sense the tip of his nose brushing against yours. every time you let out a breath, the other’s lips linger before connecting once. your legs curled as you felt the ticklish sensation surging through your nerves before heeseung pushed your lower back so it could stay for one last long kiss before he pulled away. your noses touch each other as you feel his hand on your waist trails to your bump, pressing it down gently as you lean back to see him looking down at the body he is holding. then, his eyes flick back to you as he can sense you slip away, turning yourself away from him as you push yourself up with your arms.

grabbing the lone basketball and putting it in the duffle bag, you zip it up and shift to find heeseung now upright, yet still with his legs stretched out on the ground.

“baby steps, heeseung.” you pull away before giving a small salute.

“baby steps.”

your voice echoes as heeseung watches you walk away, biting his bottom lip before a chuckle falls out of him as he knows he had to text you back his question about the appointment, knowing that you will reply to him.

beomgyu breathed out as the elevator opened up to the now familiar hallway, holding onto the box that he had still had to bring even if heeseung already told him he’ll do the next one himself because of what he told him. the box held fresh ingredients that jeongin also pinpoint—courtesy of his doctor mom—on what you should eat, considering now that there are two of them inside you. beomgyu couldn’t help but feel melancholic knowing that this was the last time he’d probably visit your apartment complex as… well…

but, other than bringing you today’s box, beomgyu is here to pick you up for the doula appointment as heeseung will follow suit after practice. even his bandmates are weirded out as to why he has to do the errands, but knowing that they’re in the process of rest mode whilst preparing to create new music and focusing on academics, he allows it, especially with how long he has been best friends with the guy.

he huffs as he positions the box again against his upper body, sliding his pointer finger to the bell as he picks up the familiar bell sounding in the room. but it seems like there’s no one inside. he’s glad that he remembers the pin ryujin has given him as he pushes inside the door to see the clean empty living room of the apartment he has been in countless times when he had to put the box in himself. pushing off his shoes, he walks to the kitchen and places the box on the island counter before rushing towards the intercom to turn off the bell.

that’s when he heard the noise of something familiar.

a guitar strumming sound of chords and the changes he recognized.

beomgyu took tiny steps towards one of the ajar doors in the hallway as the realization of the familiar sound widened his eyes. of course it was familiar to him, it was his song.

the nearly acoustic rendition of “skipping stones” with a familiar voice he had heard makes him peek through the door to find you sitting cross-legged on your bed, holding a nearly all-white guitar as you strum while having headphones on your head, singing the daylights out as your window lets the stream of lights in through the window. he lets you sing as he can see you glow—jeongin had mentioned to him that pregnant women have this whole glow on them. maybe that’s what he was seeing in you. the way your fingers glide against the fretboard with your eyes on it or close as you sing the lyrics makes beomgyu mesmerized.

the last ring of strings strummed is heard from your rumble speaker when you notice clapping from outside of your headphones, making you look up to find beomgyu behind your slightly open door. his clapping turns to hollering as lets out a wide thin smile before looking away; you don’t want him to see you flustered. that is when you realize why you’re here.

“oh fuck, the doula appointment.”

“yeah!” beomgyu replies outside as you quickly tidy the guitar up into your case and you step into your wardrobe to grab some more clothes that are much more appropriate for your appointment.

“sorry, about that. beom.”

“nah, no worries. i can wait.”

“thanks!” you close the door as you quickly change your clothes, deciding for a flowy blouse with a rubber-banded culotte, needing to remind yourself to buy maternity clothes because you are slowly running out of clothes that fit you. you wore a bit of sunscreen as you got a message from mama telling you to embrace the pregnancy glow your friends seemed to notice is exuding out of you as you’re in the second trimester. wearing the eau du toilette that doesn’t make you as dizzy—unlike perfume—you open the door to see beomgyu leaning against the wall where it hangs a frame of you and your roommates in photo booths.

“you ready?” he held his hand out as you nodded, you put your hands out before beomgyu grabbed the strap of the bag from your hold, startling you before you returned to your usual state. if your face isn’t warm enough, it’s now warmer from the embarrassment.

the walk down to his car is silent as he helps with buckling the seatbelt to the side. seeing how much your stomach is rested underneath the strap makes him giggle as you recognize the smell of pot from beomgyu’s very appropriate old sedan car.

“hopefully you aren’t high while driving me.” you give a cheeky grin.

“of course not. heeseung will actually kill me if he finds that i dui with you.”

beomgyu twists the key of the ignition as the car turns on—yes, that’s how old his car is—as the sound of a loud rock song plays from the rock fm you recognized. his hand reaches for the button as you react,

“no need. i’m okay with it.”

he hums as he reaches for the volume to turn the sound down, not letting the rattling of the sound in the interior startle you as he pulls the car out of the parking space and into the road.

“can you check the quickest route to the office?” beomgyu said as he brushed his wolf-cut hair.

“of course.” you lean back against the leather seat as you open the map app on your phone, telling beomgyu the roads to the doula’s office. the song has changed to a familiar song by tom petty playing as you notice how beomgyu glances at you.

“what?” you called out with a few chuckles.

“i didn’t expect you to like my song, well txt’s song.” his reply is met with your own giggle as you lean back.

“even if i hate heeseung. that doesn’t mean i have to hate his friends, you know?”

your eyebrow is raised as he gives another quick look before focusing on the road, “if you don’t believe me, i’ve been a fan of band your band since, like, sophomore year when you formed.”

“why? i really wanna hear from a fan's perspective.”

your giggle warms his heart as you answered, “i just relate to it, ya hear? a band that talks about the hardships of finding oneself and the struggle of growing but in a more intelligible way other, especially ‘skipping stones’ from your newest album.”

both of beomgyu’s hands are on the steering wheel as you feel the brake of the car before turning to the curb of where the office is, parking nearest to the entrance as the car stops and he pulls the hand brake. both of you sitting inside as you waited for heeseung to arrive in a few minutes from the last time he texted you.

“why ‘skipping stones’ specifically?”

“hmm…” you suppressed the grin that is threatening to go out before replying with, “interpreting self-struggle with the idea of skipping stone is… in it of itself, very poignant. to correlate the body of water with your own and the stones you’re throwing as the struggle you’re facing.” you let out a huge sigh, “i don’t know- it’s something i understand, especially if someone else is doing the skipping stone to you, feeling that emotion sinking into you, replacing the water’s place…”

you glanced at beomgyu who was definitely staring at you, his hands on his lap as he let out a solemn smile, agreeing with what you said. you quietly nod and take a sharp intake, trying to find the right words to cut the rising awkwardness between the two of you, “other than that, the freaking dissonance on the harmony is so good. it gives a sense of unbalanced buoyancy as if you’re a leaf floating on the water and the skipping stone makes it unstable. great job on that.”

“thanks!”

“of course.” you nearly slapped yourself for leaning closer to the middle console, but beomgyu seemed to not react as much when you felt a bit of your finger touching his. “can’t wait for the next release. no pressure.”

the corner of beomgyu’s lips rose as he giggled, a boyish grin on his face before his expression changed, “don’t worry, me and the band won’t let the fans down.” he replied as you leaned back, head nodding. that’s when you hear the rumbling of the car right beside yours as you see the appearance of heeseung’s newer model car.

“gotta go. thank you so much for bringing me here,” you said as beomgyu helped pick your bag up from the backseat.

“of course, (y/n). gotta have to thank heeseung for letting me do so, but hey…” you felt his hand reaching and now touching your wrist, making you turn your body while nearly opening the door.

“i've known you since high school but we never hang out together cause of heeseung. maybe we could hang out, with your girls and my guys? if heeseung is already melting his ice down then i think that’s okay for us and our friends to hang out. it’s up to you, though.”

you suppress an amused smile as you think about it. thinking about how long have you been crushing on the boy in front of you and how you wanna shake heeseung a thank you for letting him do the errands, maybe even to your noise-canceling headphones that make him notice just how much you like him- no, his band. yeah.

“i’ll think about it. heeseung and i don’t have a formal truce yet but based on what we talked about last time, maybe it could work.”

“sweet-“

you heard a knocking on the door before you turned around to catch heeseung’s silhouette behind the glass window.

“i’ll talk to the girls so we can arrange a time.”

“me too with the guys.”

“okay, bye beomgyu.” the car door unlocks as you nuzzle the door open while hearing beomgyu’s own “bye” from the driver’s seat. heeseung helps to hold the door as you step out.

“thanks for her ride, gyu.”

“don’t mention it, hee. we might even have to ride with her often.” beomgyu said right as the door that heeseung held closed. the engine turns on as the car drives off the parking. you stand right beside heeseung as he looks at you, who still has a lingering smile on your face.

“why are you smiling, (y/n)?”

he lightly nudges your palm with his as you turn your head to him.

“you’ll see, hee.” as you took off towards the office, leaving heeseung once again alone as he then followed you.

part 2

taglist: @raeyunshm @leilasmom @evidive @boba-beom @kwiwin @endzii23 @fluffyywoo @camipendragon @hiqhkey @wccycc @cha0thicpisces @y4wnjunz @yeehawnana @beansworldsstuff @kimipxl @blurryriki @amazzwon @reallysmolrenjun @stelanity @possibly-zoe0218 @enhypenilycometoaus @jaysupremacy @jungwoneez

#k-labels #enhypen imagines #enhypen smut #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fanfiction #heeseung x reader #rsc: laurel hell #cr: heeseung #cs: enhypen #sc: regina

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 29 days ago

Text

Meet the Family 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your boss needs a last-minute favour for the holidays.(petite!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: I love writing toxic people.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

“Mr. Hansen--” You begin, choking on your error, “Lloyd, my flight--”

“Christ, I told you, cancel it. I’ll add the difference to your next check,” he grits under his breath.

You plant your feet, shifting despite your effort as he keeps his grip on your hand. He turns back with a grunt.

“What’re you doing?” He asks.

“No, what are you doing?” You throw back. “What the hell is going on?”

“First, watch that sweet mouth of yours. Second, we’ve been through this, Pixie pie. You just need to play along,” he keeps his voice low and peeks over his shoulder. “Loosen up a bit.” He loosens his hold on you and runs his hand up your sleeve. “Hm, I guess I shoulda told you to dress up a bit.”

“What?” You look down at your black cotton tea-length dress. You chose it for comfort but it’s not entirely frumpy. The ribbed stockings might not add much to the attire however.

“Just...” He grabs your shoulders and nudges them back, “push the chest out a bit.”

“Ugh,” you clasp onto his wrists, “stop. Okay. I’ll stay for dinner but I can’t miss my flight--”

“You have to,” he argues.

“You realise this is wildly inappropriate,” you say.

“Do you really expect anything different?” He tweaks a brow. “You’re staying. I’m not doing this alone. I put it off for a decade already--”

“Jesus--”

“No blasphemy either,” he lets go of you and presses his finger to your lips. You growl and shove his hand away.

“I want a bonus, a big bonus--”

He hushes you and waves his hands. He leans back and once more looks over his shoulders. “Later. We’ll deal with numbers in private. Right now, you need to come meet your in-laws.”

You squint at him. It’s an act, you remind yourself, but something about his commitment to it makes you uneasy. You know better than to believe a word that comes out of his mouth but there’s a degree of earnestness in him that’s unsettling.

“Baby, please, don’t look at me like that,” he steps closer, “I need you to look at me like I’m the second coming, okay? We’re madly in love, you and I.” Your eyes widen and he sighs, “okay, you’re not scared of me.”

You neutralise your expression and blow out a long breath. You shake away the tension and shrug. It’s as good as you can do.

“Here,” he grabs your wrist and turns, guiding your arm through his, “just smile pretty for me.”

He hooks your elbow with his and urges you onward. You steel yourself for the room of strangers as their voices drift through the archway.

You enter the front room and quickly scan the space; there’s a large-mouthed hearth, lit and draped in evergreen and berries; a long cream sectional, a matching duo of armchairs, and a chaise in the same shade; a low glass coffee table with a golden perch and a console table in a similar style along the wall crowded with bottles and crystal; an area rug in a smooth white with patterns in dulcet beige and rich butterscotch; and the low din is cast by tea lights daintily set around the space in glass holders and candelabra.

More pressing than the decor are the bodies that fill the room. You recognise Ransom as he speaks with an older woman with short white hair and thick-framed glasses. She wears a red pantsuit with a gold blouse. Very festive.

You glance over at Lloyd and take him in fully. You hadn’t paid much attention for the whirlwind all around. He wears a pair of evergreen slacks and a sweater with a reindeer's face on the front. He wouldn’t even let you put tinsel on your desk but now he’s dressed like a kid in a holiday parade.

“Looks like someone didn’t get the memo,” a tall blonde woman approaches with a glass of pale wine in hand. You try not to look with concern at her rounded middle; it sticks out starkly as her long limbs are thin and lithe. “A very grim Christmas indeed.”

“Lillian,” Lloyd faces the woman about his own height. She has his eyes and his lips. You assume their relation before he declares it. “My sister, Pixie,” he gestures to her carelessly.

“Older sister,” she preens and rests her hand on her swollen stomach. Your eyes flick away from the crystal in her hand.

“By about thirty-one seconds,” Lloyd scoffs.

“Oh, sweetie, it’s non-alcoholic,” she swirls the wine in her glass, “she’s so tiny and quiet.”

“Ahem,” you clear your throat, “it’s nice to meet you.”

She laughs, “oh, so polite. Entirely not his type.”

You try not to react. You agree. You know the women that Lloyd really likes. You’ve screened their calls until they just give up on getting a second date.

“Believe it or not, Lil, you’re not everyone’s type,” Lloyd retorts. “I think your ex-husband would agree. The second one too.” Lloyd lifts his chin and looks around, “is the third here or are we on number four?”

“Lovely,” she spits. “Love you too, brother.”

He shakes his head and draws you away from her. She raises her brows and her glass and sips. You let him take you away. You already despise most of these people. The room radiates with derision. Your family might have some grudges but there’s a general air of good will.

“I need a drink,” he mutters.

You gladly follow him to the table. He pours himself a tumbler from the boxy decanter. He sighs as he picks it up but stops himself from drinking.

“Well, help yourself,” he says.

You hesitate but not for long. You need something if you’re going to get through this. You pour yourself some chardonnay and sidle away from the table. You check your watch as you raise your glass.

“Don’t fucking worry about your flight,” he hisses under his breath. “If I’m not getting out of this, you aren’t either.”

“But why?” You ask behind the glass.

“Not right now,” he warns and nods at another figure as they approach. “Uncle Benson.”

“Junior,” the man returns. You drink your wine and don’t comment on the epithet. “Where’s the old man?”

“Where he always is,” Lloyd replies.

“Mm, and this is...” the older man looks at you pointedly, dipping his chin to do so.

“Pixie. My fiancee,” Lloyd answers dully, almost deflating.

“Benson,” the man offers his hand, “but a pretty girl like you can call me Benny.”

“Benny,” Lloyd repeats to himself in confusion.

You shake Benson’s hand, “um, thanks, nice to meet you.”

“Mm, very nice to meet you,” he lifts your hand and smushes his lips to your knuckles. He clings to you, petting your hand. “You’re gorgeous, what’re you doing with this lump?”

“Uncle,” Lloyd drones.

“Adorable,” Benson inches closer, “my inheritance is bigger than his, among other things.”

“Alright,” Lloyd snatches your hand away from him, “go have some water, Benson,” he growls, “think you’ve been into the brandy.”

“I’d like to get into something else,” Benson snickers.

You almost laugh, despite your disgust. You’ve heard that line before. Lloyd puts himself between you and the older man. “I think that’s why Carolyn filed the papers, huh.”

“Oh, you little twat,” Benson snarls. “Fine, fine, I’ll leave you to disappoint her on your own.”

Lloyd tuts and shakes his head as the man lumbers off. He turns around and drains his glass. It’s strange, seeing him in his natural habitat; he’s not so ‘alpha’ here.

“Let’s get the rounds over with.” He grumbles.

Your wine lasts you through the introductions. Two more uncles; Carter and Linus, along with their wives, Andrea and Angela. Then the full-blooded aunts; four of them, Raquel, Shanna, Beatrice, and Lana. All of them tall, blonde, and bold in their own way. Then a batch of cousins you can’t keep sorted; Ransom and his mother Linda, among them, with no explanation as to the rest of their tribe.

Lloyd pours himself more whiskey. You abstain from a refill and stand near the wall, observing the wilderness of entitled trust-funders. It explains so much yet inspires so many more questions. You never expected Lloyd to be the dark horse.

“Lonely?” The timbre startles you along with the twisting pinch on your ass.

You yipe and snag the attention of several sets of eyes around the room, not least of all Benson, drooling over another snifter of dark alcohol. You swat Ransom’s hand away and face him amid the row of laughter. Despite the airs they put on, your audience is more amused than appalled.

“Where’s your prince, huh?” Ransom asks. “All that whiskey and...” He holds up his index then lets it go limp, “don’t think it’ll be a very peppy after party, sweetheart.”

You sniff and cross your arms. These people are at least consistent, grossly so. It makes you wonder why Lloyd was so insistent that you watch your mouth, especially when you’ve never stooped to his level before.

“Is it much of a party if there’s only one attendee?” You counter.

He narrows his eyes and tilts his head, “what?”

“Nothing,” you shake our head. You don’t need to explain the joke. Besides, this is all fake. Don’t let it get to you.

“So, how long did he wait to put that ugly thing on your finger?” Ransom asks.

You shrug, “long enough.”

“Did he do the whole schtick? Get down on one knee? Put the ring in your wine glass?” He prods.

“I’ll let him tell the story,” you say.

“Hm, never knew a woman so unexcited about a wedding,” he snorts.

“Maybe I’m just unexcited by my company,” you back away as his hand jiggles at his side. You eye his fingers, wary of another pinch.

“Fine, marriage is boring anyways. What’s his favourite position? I always figured he lets the ladies do all the work,” he snickers.

You stare at him. Not quite as offended as annoyed. You could ask him which hand he uses but you are not letting Lloyd drag you that low. Why are you even letting him put your through this?

“Hugh,” Lloyd appears and slides his arm over your shoulders.

“Little L,” Ransom retorts dryly.

“Shut up,” Lloyd sneers as you resist the urge to shrug him off of you.

“Where were you then? Leaving your woman all on her lonesome,” Ransom rubs his fingers together subtly and you scowl at him.

“Broke the seal,” Lloyd deflects. “What do you care? You wanna hold it next time?

“Hands are too big,�� Ransom cackles.

“Speaking of,” you pipe up. “The bathroom, where would that be?”

Lloyd clucks and looks down at you, “down the hall, opposite the kitchen.”

“Thanks,” you carefully slip away from him, “I’ll be back.”

“Wait,” Lloyd catches your arm and pulls you back. “Not without this.”

He leans in before you can react. He bends to press his lips to yours and you can’t repress a surprised squeak. He purrs and the vibration makes your skin crawl. What on earth?!

You part and ignore the stares you can feel all around. Not just from Ransom but the rest of the room. What is he doing? That’s so embarrassing.

You force a smile, “uh, be back.”

You spin and scurry away. That room, those people, are suffocating, and Lloyd, not least of all. You hide in the bathroom, locking the door, and you take the moment of stillness to think. Big mistake as it all starts to set in.

You drove all the way here under false pretenses. It’s believable that Lloyd would forget to bring the gifts. That tracks but this? The whole pretending to be engaged? What is his game? Is he really trying to impress anyone or is he torturing you? Why?

You can’t figure any of it out. You gave up trying to understand your boss ages ago, you suppose you should do the same with these people and just get through this. For all your trouble, the food better be fucking delicious.

You let yourself out of the bathroom and flatten against the door as you nearly collide with another person. Lillian nearly stomps right over you as she holds her stomach and rushes down the hallway. She lets out a sigh.

“Oh, are you done in there? I’m splitting at the seams,” she trills.

“Um, yeah, all done,” you sidle away from the door.

“Could I trouble you for some help?” She asks. “This thing,” she pats her stomach, “I can get down but I can’t get up.”

“Hm?” You furrow your brow in confusion, “help?”

“We’re both girls,” she giggles. “And we’ll be sisters soon enough, won’t we?”

“Um.”

“You know, a pregnancy at my age, I really can’t strain myself,” she explains.

“Oh, er, I guess--”

“Thanks, sweetie,” she nudges you back into the bathroom. You have no choice as she heard you through.

You stare at the wall as she slams the door and hustles over to the toilet. She pulls up her white dress and turns to sit, her silhouette a blur in your peripheral. You flick your eyes to the ceiling and bounce on your heels.

Her stream flows out and fills the tense silence. She sighs.

“Thank the lord,” she groans. “I swear, the little twerp is right on my bladder right now.”

“Mm,” you nod and glance at the door.

“I knew we should’ve gone with a surrogate,” she sniffs. “A piece of advice, when he puts one in you, make him suffer.”

“Puts one...” you blink. “Um, I don’t...”

“I mean, he’ll have to start trying as soon as the wedding night,” she laughs. “He’s getting up there. His swimmers won’t be as fast, will they? And the way he drinks, they’ll be too groggy to know which way is which.”

“Um, we’ll worry about the wedding first--”

“Enjoy it. Once you’re tied down, it’s not very much fun,” she says as she tears of tissue. “Alright then, darling, I need you.”

You do your best not to see all of her. She reaches for you and you get close. You pull her up to her feet and she squeezes past you to the sink. You look at the toilet and shut the lid, flushing it with a push of the button. She washes her hands with a hum.

“You’ll be so adorable when you’re big. Like an overstuffed teddy bear,” she chimes. “He’ll love that. He always did hate feeling small.” She twists off the faucet and dries her hands. “You must make him feel like the man he wishes he was.”

You just look at her. You have no true reason to defend Lloyd, but because she’s so smug it irks you. You look her in the face, even if you feel ridiculous having to look up.

“Well, he can piss on his own, so I think he’s just fine,” you step around her and swing open the door. The silence that follows you is the only satisfying thing about that night.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #series #fic #meet the family #the gray man

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hopesworlld · 9 months ago

Text

౨ৎ i want you to cry, cry for me

౨ৎ 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 — jealous!anakin x fem!reader

౨ৎ 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 — anakin's jealousy gets the best of him once again and you have no choice but to punish him

౨ৎ 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 — 2k

౨ৎ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 — swearing, toxic!ani, smut ( sub!ani, degradation, reader calling ani a slut, hair pulling, ani crying for 90% of the fic, cock stepping, nipple play, biting, bondage, begging, dry humping, hand jobs, edging, dacryphilia, oral f receiving, face sitting, cuming untouched, panties as a gag, overstilmulation, face slapping, cock slapping, cum as lube ) holy fuck that's a lot

౨ৎ 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗸𝘀 ! — i never usually write subby male characters so i had some fun with this, hope you enjoy !

part one part two masterlist

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“you are in so much trouble,” you spat the moment you enter your and anakin’s shared apartment, anakin trailed behind you, head cast downwards, “seriously, anakin, i talk to my coworker for two seconds and you come over throwing a hissy fit? try grabbing my ass in front of my boss and his husband?” you growled and anakin whimpered, wrapping his arms around himself, “what do you have to say for yourself?” you demanded.

“i’m so sorry,” he whispered, voice thick but he refused to look up, eyes remaining fixed on his shoes, a frustrated groan fell from your lips as you walked over to him, grabbing his hair and yanking his head up to face you, his pretty blue eyes were glassy, tears dripping down his cheeks and onto his white shirt, glasses hazy from condensation. he hissed at the sensation of his hair being pulled, lips trembling.

“i’m so sorry,” you imitated with a scowl and anakin let out a sob, “that’s all you have to say?” you questioned, “god, anakin, you are fucking pathetic,” you tell him, letting go of his hair and storming through the apartment. still, anakin is quick to follow you, stumbling over his own feet as you walk into the living room, tossing your coat and bag down, massaging your temples.

“no, no,” anakin cried, “please, i mean it, i didn’t want to upset you,” he told you, “i was just, he was so close to you and…”

“oh my god,” you screamed, whirling around to face him and anakin looked stricken, not expecting your outburst and more sobs came tumbling from his lips, he brought his hands up, wiping away the sticky tear tracks but they were quickly replaced with new ones. “we shook hands, that was it, and you come over acting like a bitch in heat,” you grind out, “do you want to embarrass me in front of everyone? is that your goal, want to make me look stupid with my boyfriend who can’t control his needy cock?”

“that’s not it!” anakin cried, dropping onto his knees before you and wrapping his arms around your legs, clinging to you desperately, “please, i’ll be good, don’t leave me,” he begged, burying his face into your thigh.

“you haven’t been a very good boy though have you, ani?” you asked him coldly, “i warned you, and you promised you would stop, why did you lie to me, huh? speak up, angel,” anakin’s head snapped back, eyes wide and lips parted, his tongue darted out wetting his lips as he took a shuddering breath.

“i… um… i, i didn’t…” words seemed to escape him, his pupils blown wide beneath his glasses, his mouth opened and closed multiple times, only gasps escaping.

“what got nothing to say now? that’s a shame, baby boy, guess i’m just gonna have to punish you,” you shrugged, leaning down and grasping his shoulders pushing him off of you, anakin hadn’t been expecting this, his body falling backward and colliding with the floor with a thud while you watched in disinterest. “pathetic,” you said with a roll of your eyes before your gaze fell, seeing the bulge in his slacks, a small laugh escaped your lips, “are you hard right now?” you asked him with wide eyes, “are you serious?” you giggled and anakin whined, crimson staining his sticky cheeks.

“god you are such a slut, getting off on me telling you off,” you said, stepping closer and placing your foot on his chest, holding him in place.

“didn’t… didn’t mean to,” anakin hiccuped, but he looked up at you with that look in his eyes, so full of desperation and longing.

“what did i say about lying, angel?” you asked him sternly, cocking a sharp brown.

“no, no, i really didn’t mean it you just look so pretty when you’re angry, and you called me… called me a slut and i, i couldn’t help it,” he babbled head shaking frantically.

“i forgot you were such a whore for degradation, gets your cock all excited even when you’re in trouble,” you scoffed, “do you think you deserve to cum after how you acted, ani?” you asked him with a raised brow.

“yes, yes, wanna make you feel good, let me come, let me fuck you,” he begged from where he lay on the floor, you pursed your lips, slowly dragging your foot down anakin’s chest, tracing along the plains of his ab’s before finally reaching his crotch, pressing down lightly on the bulge there, anakin gasped, rocking his hips upwards.

“stop,” you told him harshly, pressing down harder and anakin cried out. “you fucking like this? you like me stepping on your cock, god, ani,” you said, watching as he writhed beneath you.

“i’m sorry,” anakin cried out, hands coming up and clutching the carpet, his face was still flushed and tears continued to flow, you decided to have mercy on him, pressing your foot down one more time making him screech before pulling back.

“get up,” you commanded him, anakin scrambled upwards, stumbling slightly as he rose on shaky legs, almost falling into you but you grabbed his shoulders, “good boy,” you cooed and anakin’s face lit up. “now go into the bedroom and get on the bed,” you told him and he indeed quickly, rushing from the room. you followed him, watching as he kicked his shoes off and tumbled onto the bed. you climbed onto the bed after him, straddling his hips.

“baby?” anakin whispered.

“hush, now,” you told him, hands coming up and trailing over his shirt-clad chest, hovering over his nipples and tweaking them slightly, grinning when anakin whimpered. you carried on, pinching harder, rolling the nubs between your fingertips, anakin’s mouth fell agape, his hands coming up to grasp your hips. “did i say you could touch?” you asked him with a raised brow.

“i… no but i,” you didn’t listen to his excuses, simply shaking your head, moving to untie his tie, unlooping it from around his neck.

“keep thinking you are gonna be a good boy and then you just don’t listen,” you sighed sadly, “guess you can’t be trusted right now,” you tell him, grabbing his arms and pulling them up so they are above his head, you then loop his tie around them before securing them to the headboard. “that’s better,” you said with a satisfied smile, leaning back on your heels.

“oh…” anakin said, titling his head to look at his now secured hands, he pulled his arms slightly but they remained in their holding, when he turned back to face you, his pupils were completely blown, you could hardly see his irises beneath the darkness. you then began to unbutton his shirt, leaving it open so that you could see his nipples, they were hard and rosy making you smile, leaning down and captured one between your teeth and bit down, anakin hissed. “fuck, baby, what…”

“shh,” you crooned as you switched to his other nipple giving it the same treatment before pulling away satisfied. you took your own clothes off, tugging your top over your head and unclasping your bra, then shimmying your skirt down your hips leaving you in only your panties, anakin leaned up, trying to hold you but his arms jolted against the restraints, he looked up at you with large pleading eyes. “you really think that's gonna work on me, angel?” you asked him.

“just wanna feel you,” he pleaded but you shook your head.

“you don’t deserve to touch me, been so naughty today, anakin,” you scolded, dragging your hips along his groin, “wanna tell me why?”

“i’m… i,” he tried to say but his voice fell short.

“tell me,” you pressed, rocking harder against him, hand coming up to his throat, holding it tightly, forcing him to look at you.

“i… i embarrassed you in front of your boss,” he gasped out.

“and,” you continued with a nod of your head.

“and, i lied, didn’t listen to you, i… i got turned on when you were telling me off, please, i’m sorry, fuck,” he begged, rocking his hips.

“good boy,” you smiled, releasing his neck and patting his cheek. you climbed off of him and unbuckled his belt before tugging his slacks down, his cock sprang free, bright red and weeping as it lay against his stomach. “oh, angel, looks sore,” you cooed, reaching out and stroking it gently, circling your thumb around the tip.

“yes, yes,” anakin gasped.

“feel good?” you asked him sweetly.

“so good,” anakin nodded, and you smiled, jerking your hand up and down, using his precum as lube, he sighed in relief, head falling back against the pillow, and you giggled, continuing to play with his cock until he was squirming and crying, crystalline tears dripping down his cheeks. you felt him pulsing in your hand, so you pulled away and stared at him, waiting for him to react.

“what?” he gaped, “no, please, i was so close,” he sobbed.

“poor baby,” you snickered, “but you don’t get to come yet,” you shrugged, “haven’t proved how sorry you are have you, darling,”

“what can i do? please, i’ll do anything,” he pleaded with you, sitting up against his restraints, his shoulders tensing, muscles rippling, you bit down on your lip appreciatively, you could feel the wetness staining your panties and an idea sprung in your mind so you tugged your panties down and dropped them on the bed.

“lay back,” you instructed, grabbing his shoulders and guiding him back down, crawling up his body and balancing over his chest, “you are gonna eat me out, okay?” you prompted and anakin nodded eagerly and you were balancing over his face, core pressing against anakin’s plush lips. instantly anakin dove in, burying his face against your sopping head, tongue burying into your gummy walls. he was relentless, slick dripping down his chin as he consumed you. “yes, angel,” you gasped, hands gripping the headboard as you sank deeper onto him, thighs pressing around his face, holding him in place. you could feel his arms pressing against you, but he couldn’t use them to hold your hips as he loved to, instead, you were fully in control.

“so good,” you murmured, rocking your hips against his mouth, sinking into the feeling of his tongue inside of you, trailing up your slit, and suckling on your clit. anakin whimpered against your core sending vibrations through you. “fuck,” you gasped, “i’m gonna cum soon,” you say, grinding harder against anakin’s mouth, your words seemed to prompt him to burry deeper inside of you, tongue probing at your walls, curling upwards against you, your head fell backwards as you drew closer. “yes, yes, oh my god,” you screamed as you came all over anakin’s face, chest heaving as you came around and pulled back only to meet anakin’s guilty look.

“what?” you say curiously, turning around and seeing anakin’s spent cock laying against his stomach, streams of sticky white cum staining his stomach. “anakin?” you asked him lowly.

“i’m sorry!” anakin sobbed, “i couldn’t help it,” you shook your head at him, settling on his chest.

“can’t do anything right,” you spat, raising your hand and slapping his harshly, he whined at the sensation, looking at you with wide eyes. “i tell you, you can’t cum yet and you do it while i’m not looking, fucking pathetic,” you slap him again and this time anakin moaned. “shut up, i don’t wanna hear you,” you hissed, “you know what, i’m not giving you a choice,” you tell him, grabbing your panties from the bed and shoving them in his mouth, he choked slightly around the fabric but other than that he stayed silent, simply watching you. you moved down the bed so that you were between his legs, grasping his cock and holding it tightly, his whimper came out muffled as you let it drop down into his stomach, already chubbing up once again.

“getting hard already, angel?” you asked, landing a slap on his cock, the scream he let out ripped through his gag and you smirked, “hurt?” you asked him curiously and he nodded furiously, tears leaking down his face and onto his neck, nose running as he kicked his legs helplessly. “that’s a shame isn’t it,” you said, slowly beginning to pump his cock, once he was fully hard you stopped and slapped him once again. anakin babbled against the panties in his mouth, begging, pleading maybe, you weren’t sure as you slapped him once again, watching as a small burst of cum spurted from his tip. you rose your brow at him and he shook his head quickly, drool dripping down the side of his mouth.

“good boy,” you murmured, looking at his cock still straining harshly, “stay like this for me okay, angel,” you said before standing up from the bed and heading to the door, “i’ll be back later,” you hummed, leaving anakin alone in the bedroom voice muffled by your panties, hands tied to the headboard and cock throbbing and weeping as he waited for you to return.

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this shit was wild lmao

tags: @johnbassplayercutie @st4rfckerz @titaniasfairy

#anakin skywalker #hayden christensen #anakin skywalker x reader #hopes fics !#anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker x you #star wars #star wars fanfiction #anakin #anakin modern au #anakin smut #anakin x reader #anakin x you #darth vader x reader #star wars anakin #hayden christensen x reader #needy!anakin

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dissapointu · 1 month ago

Note

Hey can I ask for how arcane characters would celebrate their s/o's birthday. My birthday is coming tomorrow (same day when Act 3 is released and I'm not ready 😭)

Happy (early) birthday!, Mine is coming up on Sunday! I hope you like this annon- my requests are filled to the brim so sorry if this took a bit long for me to get to-

Jinx

Jinx goes all out with chaotic creativity. She’d make you a wild, explosive “birthday surprise” (don’t worry, the explosions are just colorful fireworks this time). The celebration would be an adventure—she’d set up a scavenger hunt across Zaun, leading to a hideout decorated with glowing lights, mismatched balloons, and her unique artwork. The night would end with a heartfelt (but chaotic) gift she made herself, reflecting how much you mean to her.

Vi keeps it simple but meaningful. She’d spend the entire day with you, taking you to your favorite spots in Zaun (or Piltover if you’re feeling adventurous). Expect her to show up with a small, thoughtful gift—maybe a charm or bracelet symbolizing her commitment to you. She’d throw in a surprise, like a home-cooked meal or sparring lessons where you always “win.”

Sevika

Sevika would take you to one of the classier underground bars in Zaun, ensuring the atmosphere was just right. She’d have the bartender make your favorite drink and possibly even toast to you in front of everyone. Her gift would be something practical but meaningful, like a custom-made piece of armor or a knife engraved with your name. She wouldn’t say much, but her actions would scream, You’re everything to me.

Silco

Silco would celebrate your birthday with understated elegance. He’d arrange a private dinner in his office, with candles casting a soft glow over the room. His gift would likely be something rare and meaningful—perhaps an artifact with a story or a promise of future security. He’d also take time to express his feelings, which is rare for him, making the moment even more special.

Vander

Vander would keep it warm and heartfelt. He’d organize a gathering at The Last Drop with your closest friends, ensuring there’s good food, drinks, and laughter all around. He’d give you a gift that resonates deeply, like a hand-carved trinket or something symbolic of the family you’ve built together. He’d make sure the day felt safe and full of love.

Ekko

Ekko would use his inventive mind to create a birthday you’d never forget. He’d set up the Firelights’ hideout with glowing murals and lanterns, creating a magical atmosphere. His gift would be something handmade, like a small invention or a piece of art. The night would be filled with music, laughter, and his infectious energy, all focused on celebrating you.

Jayce

Jayce would celebrate with grandeur. He’d book a beautiful venue or take you to a fancy restaurant in Piltover. He’d make sure everything was perfect, from your favorite dishes to a heartfelt toast about how amazing you are. His gift would likely be something extravagant, like a custom piece of jewelry or a groundbreaking invention dedicated to you.

Viktor

Viktor would celebrate your birthday with quiet, thoughtful gestures. He’d invite you to his lab, where he’d surprise you with a small, meaningful invention tailored to your interests. He’d also take the time to express his appreciation for you, likely in the form of a handwritten letter. The day would end with the two of you sharing a quiet moment, away from the world.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn would plan an elegant birthday celebration. She’d take you to a picturesque part of Piltover, where you’d enjoy a private picnic or a fine dining experience. Her gift would be something sentimental, like a beautifully framed photo of the two of you or a token from one of your shared adventures.

Mel Medarda

Mel would make your birthday a masterpiece. She’d commission a stunning piece of art in your honor and host a luxurious gathering with Piltovan elite. Her gift would be thoughtful and extravagant, like a handcrafted piece of jewelry or a beautiful outfit tailored just for you. She’d spend the entire evening making sure you felt like royalty.

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa would celebrate your birthday with strength and style. She’d organize a feast worthy of a warrior, complete with toasts and a bold declaration of her affection for you. Her gift would be something practical and meaningful—perhaps a weapon or armor, designed with your needs in mind. She’d make sure you knew your worth in her eyes.

Maddie Nolen

Maddie would celebrate with a warm and personal touch. She’d bake you a delicious cake and organize a cozy get-together with close friends and family. Her gift would be something heartfelt, like a scrapbook of your memories together or a thoughtful keepsake. She’d make the day feel safe, special, and full of love.

Lest

Lest would celebrate with a mix of humor and sincerity. She’d tease you about getting older but then surprise you with a heartfelt gift, like a handcrafted piece of jewelry or an item she noticed you’d been wanting. The celebration would be low-key, filled with laughter and quiet moments of affection, showing how much she cherishes you.

I hope this adds to your excitement for your birthday! Have an amazing day filled with love, joy, and perhaps some Arcane watching!

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atenea585 · 21 days ago

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8 and 15 together?

But instead of it being a puppy, reader is puppy?

any character ♥️

I hope you like what I create just for you!

Prompts: A puppy! - “I could ruin you.” “You mean... In a kinky way or a bad way?”

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Tags/Warnings: Rubbing on crotch, allusions to sex

You adjusted the collar of your shirt, sweat causing it to stick to your skin. This spell they had cast on you to communicate with the victim's dog had affected you more than they expected, causing you to act like a dog like scratching behind your ear or running after a ball. But what was happening to you now would be funny if not devious. You knew what was happening to you. The proof trickled between your thighs and made you close your legs.

Damn... You were in heat.

“Hey, how do you feel?” Dean asked as soon as he walked through the door. “I brought food.” He held up a bag that probably contained hamburgers. “Don't worry, it's not dog food, although I was tempted.” He laughed as he closed the door behind him.

You just stared at him, your pulse increasing its speed as you felt more wetness in your core. His voice only made you want him more, but you couldn't. You didn't have that kind of relationship with him. Let's say you two were just hunting partners.

“Dean…” You mumbled.

He looked up at you as he took off his jacket.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

You dug your nails into the table in front of you and growled lowly, looking him up and down slowly.

“I need your help.”

"Of course." He said as he approached you.

You bit your bottom lip and ran a hand over his abdomen under his confused gaze.

"What are you doing?"

Your head was a little higher than his crotch and you leaned down, rubbing your head over that spot.

Dean let out a surprised gasp and grabbed your shoulders, pulling you away.

“Sweetheart, stop.”

"Please." You whimpered pathetically. "I need you."

“It's not you who's talking.” He denied.

“Yes, it's me. I’ve wanted you for a long time, Dean Winchester.”

You saw him gulp, his mind probably spinning. He tucked your hair behind your ear and you purred, feeling your skin burn every place he touched.

“Oh, doll, I can’t do this.” He caressed your cheek with his thumb, a finger under your chin to make you look at him. “I could ruin you.”

You held his hand, his fingers brushing your lips.

“You mean... In a kinky way or a bad way?”

He laughed softly and shook his head in amusement.

“You are a bad girl.” You put his finger in your mouth and rubbed your thighs together. He seemed to notice and growled. “You really are in heat.”

He held you under your arms and lifted you up without difficulty before throwing you onto the bed. You let out a grunt and turned to look at him, huffing.

“Down, girl. Get a grip.” He took off his belt and slapped it against his hand. “Or I will force you.”

You never thought that being in heat because of a spell that made you act like a dog would be a positive thing in your life.

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pocketgalaxies · 3 days ago

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hello from the past (sunday december 8)! in lieu of my normal friday liveblog here are some things i remember from the daggerheart critmas show in no particular order :)

Uncle Pelvis

riley, full eldritch reindeer monster, just Sobbing about her pet rat which she named gorbachev because her dad calls the actual gorbachev a rat bastard

laura miming her stupid lil candlestick hands and wiggling her stupid lil mesh wings the entire time

marisha getting out of her chair yelling "MY SKATEBOARD–IT'S ROLLING DOWN THE STREET"

the whole audience watching matt's "how to watch daggerheart" video before the show started with utmost rapt attention as if it was new information

"put it in your frigid box" "my body is ready"

"SLIPPERY WHEN WET, BITCH"

slippery when wet bitch made me so happy because it's such a marisha-ism that i pulled out my phone to put it in my tumblr drafts so i wouldn't forget it. it's the only thing i wrote down the whole show

marisha and ashley miming riley sticking her arm into gwenny's body

bethany insulting ralph and ralph sobbing "i thought tristan was just gonna read a dramatic monologue"

every time someone started crying gwenny's hands would creep into frame holding the box

the holiday spirit going "...~whoa~" from tanner's weed grenade

ralph bader ginsburg

bethany's very not secret comic book obsession

"how do you know i was the one who tagged the water tower" "it says dylan right there"

laura going "i still can't believe you all said i was naughty" and travis' thumbs up

everyone going "DIDN'T YOU LIVE IN GERMANY?" and marisha going "YES AND I'VE USED MY EXPERIENCE 'I LIVED OVERSEAS' 4 TIMES ALREADY"

marisha going "we're still rolling even though we had two crits. ok,"

everyone looking at travis' monkey hat and breaking

bethany checking if her vag was still there

gwenny inexplicably knowing everything about everyone's lives and houses

one half of the party crying into a box and the other half getting violently disemboweled by an evil hag

the way bethany said ". no–!" when ralph asked if they had a chance together

bethany's lil tantrums

ralph throwing his own lil tantrum and saying "i learned from the best"

laura trying to use an experience talking to the holiday spirit and muttering "no they wouldn't care who my dad is..."

riley intensely saying "i know where it went. follow me." and then comically slipping on ice with her ungraceful bambi legs

marisha going "matt What did you say you said it so fast and i was so distracted" and matt just repeating back a bunch of german

tristan's illusory pack of krampus monsters all having a little tree topper sitting on one horn

the audience laughing at Every single one of sam's jewish jokes despite ourselves

i can't remember what the context was anymore but taliesin just deadpanning "This Was A Mistake." over all the cry-laughter which only made the cry-laughter more severe

i kept looking at a mom in the row in front of me who definitely only came to support her child and she just looked so confused the whole time. confused for 5 hours straight. i'm so sorry mom

riley screaming "IT'S THE COMMIES" and immediately offering up gwenny because "she's a virgin" and gwenny, 3 beats too late, defensively going "I HAVE SEX ALL THE TIME"

the VIPs doing the little sing-songy thing and the whole cast going "what the fuck you creeps"

sam skipping onto the stage like an angelic little boy when momlan finally announced him

ashley's court jester look in the 2nd half was very cute

someone behind me said "she is so cute" about laura's tree topper outfit, apropos of nothing. relatable

i think nobody in the audience was expecting the character art of their transformations and it was absolutely an involuntary gasp and yell when riley's first appeared. and when marisha described the christmas lights appearing on her antlers like 3 ppl around me including myself went "oh cool"

everyone losing their FUCKING minds when liam did the hamlet monologue

everyone losing their FUCKING minds when liam did the breakfast club monologue

a high schooler robbing the comic store and getting ambushed by a bunch of fairytale monstrosities who are actually also just high schoolers

the concept of a tiny tree topper being able to step in front of someone to take the hit for them. and the fact that every time she did it the crowd went "AWWWW."

tanner's intrusive monkey noises

matt repeatedly saying "it doesn't matter if you rolled with hope or fear on a reaction roll" and marisha going "You Know We're Going To Say It Anyway. I Rolled A 15. With Hope."

liam saying that the hair on his calves specifically was contributing to his armor

marisha trying to do math in front of a crowd of thousands, marisha spitting all over her mic in front of a crowd of thousands, ashley not being able to read her dice in front of a crowd of thousands, laura trying to choose dice in front of a crowd of thousands

sam feeling the need to clarify that his acne was just makeup. the details of the makeup not rly showing up on the screen so it definitely just looked like a rash and i felt a non-negligible amount of relief when he made said clarification

every time gwenny went anywhere it was described as "rolling." like bb-8

gwenny going "hey this kind of isn't so bad" and ralph immediately going "you're going to melt in the summer"

every time they were so teenager-y. "my dad said this" "suck it" "chode"

ralph going "i had my bat mitzvah so i'm a man now, not a child. so this doesn't apply to me" and tristan going "and tanner's 22"

trying to kill a mythical fire scarecrow monster but whenever anyone tries to do something strategic about it everyone goes "NO WAIT THE COMIC BOOKS–"

on a more serious note meeting cool ppl before the show and during intermission! everyone was wearing cozy cr merch it was so cute! there was a trinket with christmas lights and armor with a light-up VM logo! there was a fuckin awesome percy vex couple's cosplay! there were laudnas! there were keyleths! one person got told their bag was too big and everyone in line was offering tips on how to carry all the super cute caleb cosplay-related paraphernalia in their bag, everyone was so nerdy and friendly. the critmas album was playing during the pre-show and the atmosphere was so cute. so many ppl sang along to the twelve days of grogmas mv when it played during intermission. a whole crowd of grog impressions. and when marisha/riley said her stupid thing about how one day nerd culture might become cool and popular and everyone cheered it made me feel so warm and fuzzy.

ok i could keep going but i'll stop. it was such a fun fuckin time y'all

#I HOPE EVERYONE HAD AS MUCH FUN AS I DID!!!#text #critical role #cr extras #critmas story #cr lb #cr spoilers #personal

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honestsycrets · 1 year ago

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before anyone else I: the venerable [admiral!miguel o'hara x princess!reader]

❛ pairing | admiral!miguel o'hara x princess!reader

❛ type | one-shot, sfw (minor past suggestive themes)

❛ summary | once upon a time, miguel loved a princess. upon learning about her engagement to his father, King Stone, he's back with a plan in hand.

❛ tags | forced marriage, arranged marriage, historical period not defined, royal!au, admiral!miguel, princess!reader, mention of character death, elements of implied treason and betrayal, some angst, some fluff, annoyed miguel, lyla makes trouble, self edited, f!reader, persuasion inspired, a kiss, innocent!reader, Spanish is not translated, a kiss.

❛ sy's notes | no requests were fulfilled; filled to meet this poll.

An imperial boat docks. It waves in the water a little off-kilter, pulling to the right in all its glorious majesty. On the dock itself, the head of ground forces stood dressed in full regalia, all navy blue and white, the gold buttons glistening in the fresh morning light. Jess expected this day would one day come. The seamen shouted among one another on the ship until at last the crew outstretched a thick oak plank. Boots bounded down the strong wooden ramp leading from an imperial ship to the dock. The awaiting crowd was rough and rowdy, casting bellowing screams at the admiral and his crew.

“There he is!” Jess boomed, clapping her umber hands together.

They were freckled, with the frequency of her exposure to the sun. Today, her skin was shielded by a heavy coat. She abandoned the thing over her chair as she wrote letters, recommendations, and battle orders. But she preferred it when her poet shirt was thrown open, teaching the men and women in her charge.

Admiral Miguel O’Hara led the charge, passing by the lackeys throwing down trade goods from the belly of the boat. Compared to Jess, his clothing was rough, punctuated by his time at the sea. What use was there for a thick coat with the spray of sea spray daily? No, he stood in dark brown breeches and a thrown open poet-shirt, sodden with sea water, likely from dealing with whatever injury brought his ship back to this usually forgotten port.

He was glad to be back on the Spanish shore, if only it weren’t this shore and the many stairs he would have to brave to get to the castle while the engineers worked on the Venerable. Miguel loosened the sweat from his coarse locks, his shoulders bunched and ready for another fight. He came to a stop in front of Jess, exhaling deep, rage-filled breaths. Jess shifted back on her boot heel, a grimace on her countenance.

“That’s a pretty good hole. She’s taking on water quick. You hit something, Miguel?”

“Me? No, I don’t hit rocks.” Miguel snorted, casting a look over his shoulder to the woman that stood at his side. Lyla’s eyes averted, not quite saying anything and saying everything at the same time. Lyla obscured herself behind her thick honey-brown bob. “Someone was distracted with the king’s cask of Carribean rum.”

“Lyla?” Jess came up behind her, grasping her shoulders for emphasis. “No. Our Lyla couldn’t’ve done that number.”

“It was once! One in eight years.”

“Those... those changes you wrote me about. They have you on edge, paranoid. Let’s have a drink with the imperial guard. They have missed you.”

Miguel threw a hiss back at the two as he stormed up the stairs, bundling buttons of his dirty poet shirt to obscure the sight of his dark chest from onlookers, namely the sex-deprived women and men of the capital whose hungry eyes ogled his crew. He didn’t need a loon bothering him right now, not here, he might punch them into a permanent, instantaneous sleep.

“Oh, come, Miguel, these things happen. Look how sorry she is.” She says as if he cares. Jess rushed to catch up with him, the beads on the ends of her braids snatching and clicking. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, his head heavy. He doesn’t have time for this.

“What she meant to do is as much irrelevant as it was irresponsible. If you’ll excuse me, Jess, I now have to prepare a new ship to set sail.”

“The king wants to see you. It’s about her,” she shouted. Miguel’s steps came to all but a grinding halt, his finger fingers flexing into a tight fist. His mouth was dry, and it wasn’t due to a lack of hydration but the mention of your name on Jess’s lips. She brought her hands to her hips, her hands on the golden embroidered loops. His face sagged, all irritation melding into something different, inscrutable. He threw her a look.

“Fine.”

But first-- he had to get this sea stank off of his skin.

“Admiral O’Hara! There is just the man I have been looking for. Come, come, let me pour you tea. No? No tea? Of course not, it seems I don’t remember the boy I used to know. You’re a man now. And one of decisive action! Coffee, yes? You are better suited to black coffee. Am I correct?”

Everyone thinks he is thirsty in this blasted place.

He didn’t belong here. He was, as he preferred to be, stuck at sea. The unforgiving sea required his attention lest his men befall a terrible end. He could handle that burden. He stood below a great sigil of a sea dragon whirling to chew its tail. Its hands secured a great many orbs in its sharp, jeweled talons. His eye tracked across the inside of the crest, turning over the word hopelessly on his tongue.

“Rum,” he answered caustically, his eye dropping from the great sigil before him to the jeweled sapphire and emeralds that were embedded in the floor. Between rows of sentinel were porcelain statues, their hands wrapped around blunt and aged swords, their fingers almost palpable on the artifacts that remained from times of old. The deep navy blue curtains and tapestries are detailed in ineffectual teal. He never cared for the other assortment of pots and jars that were so-called mythical artifacts and rolls of paper that would soon house the king’s poorly-made royal decrees.

“Aha! A good seaman and his alcohol,” the king minced his laughter. The noise aggravated him, the memory of the man’s words buzzing in the back of his head. Now he kissed up to him. How he’d fallen. He blinked up to the royal crest, then down to the aged king. His long, grey hair at the middle of his back reflected his many losses. Miguel turned his eyes back down to the king, eyes crinkling at the corners, taking a glimpse of him. His tone slipped. “It makes the time pass more tolerably, does it not?”

“It does.”

He pops open a glass bottle of rum, pouring it into a cup encrusted with more fine jewels. Miguel doesn’t drink.

"I suppose you want me to get to the point.”

That would be a nice change, yes. His eyes held modest deference, his heavy dark brown boots pacing toward a hearth in the middle of the king’s study. Wisps of vibrant blue fire threw embers into the air. He finds himself staring at a stained glass effigy of your mother. A woman who undoubtedly would have been ashamed of the husband that stood before him now.

“You recall my daughter,” How could he not? He released a small grunt, an acknowledgment of the king’s words. Mindful of his reaction, Miguel turned his hands over the hot air, plumes of warmth kissing his sun-worn cheeks. As the king spoke, the flickering flames warmed the slight ring on his thick fingers. “I’ve arranged her marriage to Lord Stone. An alliance of sorts.”

Miguel’s eyes go wide, aghast, staring into the blank flames. He grits his teeth together, the thin blade of his patience whittling down with every word from the king. He kills his face of the horrified, fleeting emotions that dappled his skin like obvious spots. He might have snapped a look at the king before his eyes calmed, trained to maintain the illusion of composure.

“How unfortunate.”

“King Stone?” around the corner, his second-in-command squeaked. He should have left her outside. Miguel brought his hand to cup his slight forehead, throwing her a warning look. “That old coot is still--”

“Lyla.”

“Yes, he is quite old, isn’t he? I was surprised when he asked for her hand in marriage, truly,” the king said tightly, born in annoyance. He has gone ashy, eyes desolate as he recounts the death of the prince, or perhaps his own. “I would have preferred an engagement to his son. I trust you heard about his assassination. It was a great surprise. A tragedy, indeed.”

“We have heard many things about it. I am surprised that you would agree to such an alliance after what he's done.”

It was impossible not to hear rumors in the ports he sailed through. Miguel did not only hold to royal ports but those that held slimy crowds of pirates and prostitutes. If he did not, he would never have the truth behind the many rumors that swirled through the air. Women in richer towns had time to spread rumors. Those suffering from poverty had no time for them. Their lives were ones of perpetual struggle. What use had they for the death of stupid princes?

“Feelings change.”

Did they really--

“Miguel. Truly, I understand your apprehension. But unless you have the magic to raise my dead sons from the grave, I have no choice.” The king sighed, beating his old knuckles on the game board. He’d sacrifice another child for his own safety-- the illusion of it. Coward. “I must know if I can I trust you with her transport.”

“She won’t last.” Miguel stared at him, breathing the words out, his frown darkening the rest of his features. “She is a balm to any battle-worn king, but Stone is not just old. He is dangerous. If you send her there, you will send her to her death.”

“His wives are well cared for,” your father argued mildly because it was not him who would face the rest of a lifetime with Stone. He brought a fist to his mouth and bit down upon it, a vestige of the man he used to be. “Perhaps your feelings for her cloud your judgement.”

“I can separate my feelings from my professional judgements, mi rey.”

“Yes. I suppose you can, admiral. How long has it been since you bore the responsibility of being the Head of Guards? Seven years?”

“Eight,” Miguel cropped, his hand shifting to the top of his pommel. “It has been eight years since I left the crown city.”

“Head of ground forces regulates my guard now. I find them lacking,” he grabbed Miguel’s cup of undrunk rum and threw it back, his tongue snapping against the roof of his tongue. He felt for the sentinel of guards in the room. “My soldiers, that is. If they had been stronger, perhaps my sons would still be alive.”

Be it like him to find fault in everyone but his own battle choices.

“But I am ever humbled by your selfless service, mi hijo,” he spoke mildly, “Please know it isn’t a decision I make lightly. I know my daughter. She would feel more secure if you were the one to take her to Stone.”

They were nice words from a soon-to-be puppet king. Miguel turned his gaze onward, locating Lyla by his side. Her small, scarred hands warmed themselves over the ancient blue flame. A surge of heat turned over in his stomach, punctured by a fear he hadn’t felt in a while. He steadied his voice.

“I would not be so certain.” Miguel wrinkled his forehead, throwing a look that looked almost off-kilter. After this many years, would it be easy to face you again? No, he decided. Not for this purpose. “Soft women are fickle to easy words.”

What of me?

Not you, Lyla. You’re not soft.

“If you do not want to, I can send her by way of Jess,” a long sigh slipped off the king’s lips. Then quiet, only broken by a clatter and Lyla’s frantic attempt to replace game pieces into their proper position. Miguel swayed to where she was, grabbing the head of a miniature oak knight and popping it into the proper position.

“For her sake, I will deliver her.”

Miguel said nothing more. He failed to wait for the king to dismiss him, perhaps out of confidence in their relationship, that this was not something he had to tread lightly around. Lyla rushed by his side, the wordless guards drawing the heavy doors open to the wide stone hallway before them.

“You cannot take her there,” Lyla spoke with a rigidity that Miguel admired, mindful of the volume of her words, only a whisper. “Your father is--”

“Yes, Lyla, I know very well.”

“Then what next?”

At the end of the hall, Miguel rushed down the steps, out of the king’s chambers, and into lush, almost stabilizing grass. Free of the constricting walls that he would have once called home, Miguel took in the fresh air, his hands behind his neck. To take you there meant certain death. To not take you there, well, he regarded both just as poorly. The fat roses bobbed on their pointy stems. Miguel expects to see you there, with your chambermaids, eating fruits on an Arab blanket.

“We take Jess up on her offer. She’ll be expecting me.”

“Miguel, the intent in horseback riding is that your ride the horse.”

“You know, on top,” Lyla jumps onto Jess’s sentence. “He hasn’t been on top of anything in years--”

“And break its back?” Miguel held the reins in his thick fist. The horse, a chunky mocha and white painted thing was a profit from his voyages overseas. Not only was it subjected to awful sea travel, but now to have a man of muscle on its back? With his newfound speed, it was a risk he did not need to take. “No. I have two feet. I can walk.”

Miguel was many things, but he wasn’t a monster. Or so he liked to think.

“I think you’re quite sweet, Admiral O'Hara.” Jess’s own guard, Gwen, spoke. She was a willowy thing, barely a sprout of a woman with a good heart. He could tell. Miguel looked down, opting for silence as he crunched down full blades of grass under his foot.

“Miguel doesn’t like compliments,” Lyla said.

He also didn’t like long, relaxing walks in the valley. Jess proposed something like drinking in her office. It would have been glorious-- but Lyla, whose recent binge nearly scuttled his ship, chose a good ol’fashioned horseback ride. Something that didn’t remind her of sitting on the patchwork doll that was the Venerable.

“The princess would marry someone she does not know?”

Dread filled Miguel’s stomach at the words, the truth in them half-cocked and wrong. He found no words on his tongue that could fit the weight of bitterness that he felt about the arranged marriage. Everyone knew, everyone but Gwen. She was a young thing.

“It’s not her choice,” Lyla spoke in your defense. “It’s her father’s.”

“Forced marriages are a thing of the past. They are not right. Has the princess ever even met Lord Stone?” Gwen asked.

In less than a week’s time, following the festival of roses, they would sail eastward. Or, so said the sailing plans he laid out for Jess. Who, for her part, looked away. Lyla and he exchanged a glance of mutual understanding. That was what he liked to call a sign.

“No, before their deaths, her brothers never would have allowed her travel to Alche. This whole alliance is a sham. We’re expected to deliver the princess in some false faith that he keeps this so-called alliance. He will not. I cannot decide if the king truly believes in this alliance or if he is hopeful he will remain as a ruler. In either case, it is foolish. Stone would murder his own legitimate heir and for what?”

Except they aren’t his words. Those words flowed freely from Jess’s lips.

“The king will fall.”

“Miguel. Those are treasonous—“

“Treasonous? He is incapable of governing.”

“The council helps him,” Jess says, but the words come out slanted. She convinces herself as much of the truth as him. Gwen’s lips close, looking down to the sword at her side, then back to Jess’s troubled eyes. Miguel had her where he wanted her. Where she wanted to be-- abandoning this foolish faith in a man who long since gave up hope on a strong, independent nation.

“A counsel of plants. Five of his sons have fallen. If this keeps up, we will fall next.”

Jess felt the words running bone-deep.

“You have a plan.”

He always did.

The deep night sky was a sea of twinkling stars. Oil lamps illuminated the solitary garden. Miguel fit his hands in balls on his hips, eyes flickering from the blades of grass to the long stems of lilies. He breathed softly, drawing in breaths that should have been relaxing, but morphed into something awful, some unfiltered fear of the failure of his plans.

“These are her gardens, aren’t they?”

“They are,” Miguel answered. “If nothing has changed, she cares for them herself and harvests them with the peasants. She’ll be here, tomorrow, for her last harvest as a princess.”

On one hand, overturning the king and his council could go seamlessly. He had Jess, that much was for certain. Gwen, who seemed to go with her bidding, held a good heart about the ethics of arranged marriage. She turned her nose up at it, the suggestion that you would be forced into a marriage with an old, cruel king. Lyla, his Lyla, held no apprehension to the plan. She treated him with deference, seeking only his happiness as his best friend.

Would this-- being king-- make him happy?

Miguel looked down. Soft pink roses, ripe and ready for the rose-picking festival. Your last, if things went to your father’s plan. He hadn’t thought about it: about how you might feel in the push for another engagement. Not one to an aged, cruel man-- but… he never thought to find you, to ask. He wasn’t sure he could stomach the rejection and yet still force you into a marriage with him.

It wasn’t that he wanted to-- but had to.

Miguel turned his hand into the suit vest across his chest, removing a bit of aged parchment with a broken wax seal. He turned his finger over the old ink. In every interaction I face, I long to spot you, hidden among the roses, the lilies, to be one of the heads of delighted harvesters. But you are not here. You are never here. I fear you never may be.

“Miggy,” Lyla said. “Miggy look.”

Miguel lifted his head to look at Lyla. She wasn’t looking at him, peering across the garden, somewhere Miguel couldn’t see from where he stood. He lifted his dark brown boots, stomping around the corner. His sharp red eyes were wide in shock, bags of exhaustion lifted by your sight. Had it-- really been eight years?

Panic works in tandem with longing. He could run for Jess’s chambers, crumple there like the very coward that ran this fastly crumbling kingdom. Face you another day. He couldn’t help but indulge himself in the gentle lilt of your voice, the way you rolled the ‘r’ on his last name, even though it was very much not an ‘r’ to be rolled.

“Is that you, Miguel O’Hara? ¿De verdad?”

No, Miguel thought. Not yet.

His mind was overwrought, more stimulation than he had in months of battling the sea. He could climb ropes, fix sails, fight pirates, throw out orders, and care for the ports. No issue. None. But as you stood there, looking finer than any treasure he ripped from the hands of the most experienced of pirates, he found himself unable to locate his practiced words.

You were meant to be his. To be by his side. Of that much, he was certain. Miguel folded the letter in his hand and tucked it back into his dark coat, exploring your gown. A light, white off-the-shoulder dress, embroidered in teal and ombre details, with the most beautiful seafoam bowed sash. You pulled at the rebozo over your long dripping sleeves, the jewels of your hairpieces tinking together as you moved, pulling up your skirts saucily over your ankle.

“Is it not the admiral?” your handmaiden whispered.

“I did not know he was back,” said the other.

“Please excuse us, girls. Lady Lyla, I would prefer a private audience with the admiral. If you would,”

“Of course! Of course, come, hurry up, you're slow--” Lyla did not need to be told twice. She made herself scarce, grabbing the mid-backs of the girls, forcing them up the steps and out of sight. Miguel dipped down to take a lantern that one of the girls had forgotten.

“Hola, mi amor,”

Miguel turned around, offering you his forearm. Your jeweled eyes fell on it. You took his broad arm with one hand, minding the train of your dress in the other. The pads of your fingers shifted along the muscle. It took a moment for him to register your curious touch. The increase in his muscle mass, particularly as of late, must have been jarring. His brows knit together, his eyes crinkling around the edges in a way that reflected his age by sea. You moved through your gardens. Miguel, your ever-patient servant, followed your lead.

At night time, your garden was impossibly beautiful. It was lined by bushels of healthy, salt-tolerant roses, cloaked in the secret of darkness. Miguel remembered the small pond as if it were yesterday, the secret place of his youth. Small bugs sang in the heaviness of your mutual silence, breaking with the pop of your lips.

“I saw you had a letter in your hands. From a woman, perhaps?”

He lifted his hand, offering the lack of a marriage band. No wife, not even a love on a distant shore. The memory of your kisses, your bodies strewn in bed, overrode any ability for him to find another woman. What happened to your eyes-- you began, reaching to touch him. He turned his face away. You were the first to notice. Or, perhaps, just unbothered by tethers of propriety.

“You are still unmarried? Then why did you never answer my letters?”

“What would you have me say, princesa?” Miguel’s words came at last. He hadn’t meant them to come out the way they did. A long, painful lament on his tongue, marked with barbs. “You chose your family over my proposal. Your rejection was quite clear.”

“You, above everyone else, should know it was not an easy choice. I could not have told them the truth.” You sat down on your stone bench, fixing your skirts. “You would have hung.”

“Yes... well. How funny is it that they are now dead,” he bit out. “While I stand here alive.”

Your eyes were bright, watery, bits of tears slipping down from the corners of your eyes, over pink blush at your cheeks. Shit, he hadn't meant to say that. A slow breath leaked from his mouth. You stood up, brushing the tears away with the flowing sleeves. It hurt to see your pain well to the surface.

“Miggy, I know you hate them, but please don’t talk ill of the dead. They did what they thought was best for our nation and nothing more.”

Right-- to secure the possibility of an alliance through an arranged marriage, how charitable of them. You stood before a bushel of roses, turning your eyes over the fat blooms as an excuse not to look at him. You poisoned your mind with the lies of your father and brothers. He turned you, lip trembling.

“What of what was best for you?” His hand found your cheek, rolling away the tears that spilled openly before those in the garden. The sentinel who watched, the flowers that grew in peace. You leaned into his touch, eyes closing at the comforting warmth that welled up in your chest. He was here, again. “That has always been the only thing that I am concerned with.”

“I know. My brothers couldn’t understand. They only understood politics.”

“What of your father? He knows how I feel.” Miguel said. The words were smooth and soft, gentle like the sill waters of your pond. “He may not know that I was your first--”

“Miggy,”

“Your virginity belongs to me. Stone cannot take it,” he punctuates the words. They seem to draw some ancient feelings loose, drawing back with your hand to your chest, cooling the heat that bubbled in your chest at the mere memory. His voice milded out, a smile warring at the corners of his lips. Eight years, and he knew you thought of that very warm summer’s night on the pavilion. "But your father would still allow you to live in misery."

You're not thinking of your father when Miguel speaks of such silly, youthful things. It's hurled into the past.

“You remember.” The tone in his voice pulled at a question, but he asked none. You tugged on your rebozo and turned away from Miguel once more, embarrassed. He couldn’t resist. His hands cupped your slight shoulders, rippled with goosebumps, though it was not a cold night out. His lips worked on your ears, kissing the delicate earrings that dripped from your earlobes. “The last day of the rose harvest.”

“Miggy, not here.”

“Your guards fell ill for their night shift. I took their place. You bathed in petals and perfumed your skin that night. I dare say, on purpose. You were so good for me.”

The memory must have made you clench, your blood runs warm, leaning into the soft kiss he set behind your ear, the scrape of his fang. Oh, stars, you cried.

“We should stop, my father--”

“Knows what love we have. Even if he is a spineless coward.”

“Have? Miggy?”

He held his chin level, swaying where he stood, seeking some acknowledgment that your feelings had not changed. For what seemed like the hundredth time that night, you faced him. In place of a response, silence was the best course of action. A grim smile worked on his face, his head pounding with the lack of alcohol, that little friend of his that had made these years pass so easily. You tugged him forward.

“You are mine?” you ask.

“I am yours. I am loyal to you before anyone else.”

To his surprise, you held out your hand, your fingers twiddling at him.

“Then prove your loyalty to me.” You hummed. “Give me that letter. I want it.”

“You can’t trust me, can you?” He sighed, slipping his hand into his coat pocket. Finally pulling it free, he unraveled it. Its crispy, flaked edges slipped from your fingertips. The royal seal glimmered in your eyes, wrought in sudden delight at your own handwriting.

“This is mine. And you’ve kept it so close to your heart this whole time? Oh, Miggy,”

“Don’t start,” Miguel took a step away, rubbing the frustration out of his forehead. Blood rushed to Miggy’s dark face. He should be so lucky that it was night, that the moon was not full, and that you would not weaponize it. You plucked up your skirts, daring a twirl, jewelry jingling, skirts whirling. His lips pulled in a smile at your delight, a party all on your own. Congratulations on your victory, he wanted to say, as if it hadn't resulted in years of endless longing.

“I knew it.”

“You did not,” Miguel bit out, kicking out his feet over the inky blades of glass. “You interrogated me regarding its source. Another woman when I have a princess? How asinine.”

“Oh, Miggy. If you write me a letter, just one,” you settled it back in his coat jacket. “I can be at peace with this marriage. I’ll close my eyes and think of you.”

His mind reeled at your words. He shot you a wan look, which you returned with a confused flicker of your long lashes, wondering what you said that was so wrong. Miguel looked toward the armed guards, men who-- in the day, he served with. He trusts them in a way that is unique to service under the crown-- to you.

“What sort of man do you take me for?” he bit out, his tone tapering dangerously low. “To think I would allow you to marry that man?”

“What choice do I--”

“You listen to your father regarding the oddest things. You would marry an archaic sack of shit but not the love of your life.”

“Oh,” breath punched from your chest, exhaled in a shaky breath. Your hand came to your chest, twiddling the jewelry at your chest. Miguel turned his head back to face yours, his scarlet eyes trained on yours. “I wasn’t aware of your offer.”

He couldn’t help it. Not anymore. The time at sea, eight years of suppressed pleasure through memories of your warmth, and the letters you sent all culminated in overcoming longing. He dipped down, his lips sliding against yours. He swept his tongue past your lips, drawing you closer with a stabilizing hand behind your back. He was many things, but never a coward, savoring the tender taste of fig and honey and you on your lips. You were as sweet as he remembered. His lips parted, words barely a puff.

“I don't believe I ever retracted it, Princesa.”

Yes, you say delightfully. He wonders if you'll still say yes after you learn of what he's done. He doesn't always like the decisions he has to make-- but they're for your good. One day, perhaps, you'll understand.

#miguel ohara oneshot #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara oneshot #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara/reader #atsv imagines #atsv au #atsv imagine #atsv x reader #atsv miguel imagine #atsv x you #atsv angst #miguel o'hara angst #royalty au

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xhoess · 7 months ago

Text

Rivals in the Spotlight

Yunho!dancer × fem!bod singer

Masterlist

Y/N is a passionate singer determined to secure a scholarship, often feeling overshadowed at her performing arts school by Yunho, a confident and popular dancer, dreams of becoming a professional dancer while managing the pressure from his family's legacy. When they are cast as the leads in the school's musical, their well-known rivalry escalates, leading to strong disagreements in during the rehearsals. Will they get over their little rivalry and put up a good show?

Wc: I think around 4k

Genre: enemies to lovers, smut, fluff

It is 8 am, and I am currently riding the bus to school. Today is the day I find out who will get the leads in the new school play. I don’t know a lot of people who are participating, but I definitely know one person: Jeong Yunho. That son of a bitch always knows how to get on my nerves, especially when I’m already in my worst mood.

I feel stupid writing this down, but I’ve been doing this for so long that I feel the need to keep this stupid diary updated. Even though it’s 40 percent me complaining about Yunho, it still is a good way to express myself, I think? I look out the bus window as the familiar scenery of my neighborhood blurs past. My thoughts keep circling back to the audition. What if I actually get the lead? What if Yunho gets it too?

As I walk into the school, I feel eyes burning into my back. That only means one thing: the names are out. My heart races as I rush to the performing arts hallway. A group of people is gathering around a piece of paper on the wall. Yunho is there too. Of course.

I push through the crowd, my palms sweating. I quickly find myself standing in front of the paper, and now I get why people have been staring. Me and Yunho need to play the two leads in the play. The worst part is that we need to play a couple. I play Alice, the female lead and yunho plays Jay the male lead.

"No fucking way... I thought you would be a background singer or something," Yunho says, standing next to me, also staring at the paper.

"Shut up, Yunho. You’re as tall as a tree, might as well play one," I snap before walking away.

The rest of the day, I try my best to avoid talking to people and head straight home after school. My best friend Rina calls me as soon as I get home.

"Can you believe this?" I vent, flopping onto my bed. "Of all people, I have to play opposite Yunho. This is a nightmare."

"Maybe you can be so miserable to him that he’ll quit," Rina suggests.

"I wish," I sigh. "But he’s way too competitive to just quit."

The next morning, I wake up with a knot in my stomach. I can't avoid Yunho forever. Rehearsals start today. I arrive at the auditorium early, hoping to get a moment alone before the chaos begins. The large, empty space feels oddly comforting. I stand on the stage, looking out at the rows of empty seats, trying to imagine myself performing without wanting to throw up.

Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me. I turn around to see Yunho walking towards me, his usual smirk replaced with a more serious expression.

"Hey," he says, surprisingly without a hint of sarcasm. "We need to talk."

I cross my arms defensively. "About what?"

"Look, I know we don't get along, but we have to make this work for the play's sake. It’s important to both of us, right?" His voice is calm, almost sincere.

I’m taken aback by his change in tone. "Yeah, I guess."

"Let’s just try to keep it professional," Yunho suggests. "We can hate each other offstage, but when we’re up here, we need to be convincing."

I nod, still wary. "Fine. But don’t think this means I’m going to make it easy for you."

He chuckles. "Wouldn’t expect anything less."

The sun is setting, casting long shadows through the tall windows of the rehearsal room. Once everyone is ready for rehearsal we start. Because this is the first rehearsal we only needed to learn the first few pages.

I see yunho get in character and that reminded me that we are going to be lovers in the end of the play.

"Okay everyone, get in place for the first scene" the director said.

I stand across from yunho and did some last warming up.

"3.. 2.. 1.... and go!"

"Alice did you hear what happened" yunho says.

The rehearsals go on for a little more, but I keep forgetting a few words in some sentences. I can feel the tension growing.

"Buy Jay, you never know what happens when you say no" I say, I realize the sentence is wrong. And yunho does too.

"You're impossible, you know that?" Yunho snaps, slamming his script onto a nearby table. "Do you even care about this play?"

I cross my arms, matching his glare. "Of course I care! But you’re not the director, Yunho. Stop acting like you know everything and let's just continue"

He steps closer, his eyes blazing with frustration. "Someone has to take charge when you keep messing up your lines!"

My fists clench at my sides. "I wouldn’t mess up if you weren’t constantly trying to outdo everyone. This isn’t a solo performance, Yunho. It’s a team effort."

Yunho scoffs, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "You just can’t handle that I’m better at this than you."

"Better?" I laugh bitterly. "Your ego is so big, I’m surprised you can fit through the door."

He narrows his eyes, his jaw tightening. "At least I put in the effort. All you do is complain and act like a victim."

My blood boils, and I take a step forward, refusing to back down. "You think you’re so perfect, don’t you? Always criticizing everyone else to make yourself look good."

"Maybe if you spent less time whining and more time practicing, we wouldn’t have these problems," he shoots back.

I feel my face flush with anger. "You’re such a jerk, Yunho. No wonder no one likes working with you."

For a moment, there’s silence, the words hanging heavily in the air. Yunho’s expression falters slightly, a flicker of hurt crossing his face before it hardens again.

"You don’t know anything about me," he says quietly, his voice trembling with barely controlled rage. "You’re so wrapped up in your own little world, you can’t see past your own nose."

I open my mouth to retort, but the words catch in my throat. We stand there, breathing heavily, the room suddenly feeling too small, too stifling.

Finally, Yunho breaks the silence, his voice cold. "If you can’t handle this, maybe you should quit."

I swallow hard, the lump in my throat making it difficult to speak. "Maybe I will," I manage to say, my voice shaking. "At least then I wouldn’t have to deal with you."

We stare at each other for a moment longer before I turn on my heel and storm out of the room, slamming the door behind me. My heart is pounding, a mix of anger and something else I can’t quite name. As I walk down the empty hallway, I can’t help but wonder if things will ever get better between us.

Yunho is left there standing, regretting some words he said.

The cool evening air hits my face as I storm out of the auditorium, my anger still simmering beneath the surface. I find a bench near the entrance and collapse onto it, trying to catch my breath. The sky is tinged with the pinks and purples of twilight, but I’m too wrapped up in my thoughts to appreciate the beauty.

"Why does he have to be such a jerk?" I mutter to myself, kicking a small pebble with my shoe.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s a message from Rina.

**Rina:** Hey, how did rehearsal go? Any updates?

I hesitate before replying, not sure how to put my frustration into words.

**Me:** It was a disaster. Yunho and I had a huge fight. Again.

Her response is almost immediate.

**Rina:** Ugh, that sucks. Want to talk about it?

**Me:** Maybe later. I just need to cool down right now.

**Rina:** Okay, just remember, you’re amazing and you can handle this. Don’t let him get to you.

I smile slightly at her words, feeling a bit better. Rina always knows how to make me feel better.

The next day:

The cafeteria is buzzing with activity as I navigate my way through the crowd, holding my lunch tray. I spot Rina at our usual table and make my way over, sliding into the seat across from her.

"Hey," she says, giving me a sympathetic look. "You look exhausted."

I sigh, poking at my food. "Didn’t sleep much. Just kept thinking about everything that happened."

She nods, taking a bite of her sandwich. "Yunho really knows how to push your buttons, huh?"

"Yeah," I agree, feeling the frustration bubble up again. "I don’t get it. One minute he’s trying to be all professional, and the next he’s tearing me down."

"Maybe he’s just stressed," Rina suggests. "This play is a big deal for everyone."

"Maybe," I concede, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. "But it’s like he enjoys making me miserable."

Before Rina can respond, I hear a familiar voice behind me.

"Can we talk?"

I turn to see Yunho standing there, looking unusually serious. Rina raises an eyebrow, but I nod, getting up from the table. We move to a quieter corner of the cafeteria.

"What do you want, Yunho?" I ask, crossing my arms defensively.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Look, about yesterday... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for things to get so heated."

I blink, taken aback. This is not the Yunho I’m used to. "You’re... apologizing?"

"Yeah," he says, looking genuinely uncomfortable. "I’ve been thinking about what you said, and you’re right. I’ve been acting like a jerk."

I stare at him, trying to process this unexpected turn of events. "Why the sudden change of heart?"

He shrugs, looking away. "I guess I realized that we’re stuck with each other for this play, and if we keep fighting, it’s going to ruin everything. For both of us."

His words make sense, but it’s hard to let go of the anger so quickly. "So, what do you suggest?"

"Truce?" he offers, holding out his hand. "Let’s try to make this work. For the sake of the play."

I hesitate for a moment before shaking his hand. "Truce."

At the Rehearsal Room, Late Afternoon:

Back in the rehearsal room, there’s a noticeable shift in the atmosphere. Yunho and I still have our differences, but we’re making an effort to be civil. Our scenes start to flow better, the tension easing with each passing day.

One evening, after a particularly grueling rehearsal, I find myself sitting on the edge of the stage next to Yunho. We’re both exhausted but there’s a sense of accomplishment in the air.

"You know," I say, breaking the comfortable silence, "I never thought I’d say this, but we’re actually doing pretty well."

Yunho smiles, a genuine one this time. "Yeah, who would’ve thought?"

This new feeling was brewing in my chest, it wasn't hatred, it was far from that.

"You know I never meant to be harsh the other day" yunho says, looking down at his shoes that are hanging off the side of the stage.

"Its okay, I said some mean stuff to you too." You lift your shoulders a little while saying. "I really need this play to go well so I can have a higher chance of getting a scholarship. That's why I was getting pissed off by you" I say.

"My parents always expect the best of me, just because they were the best in their days doesn't mean I am. I guess that's why I got so angry at you for saying I wasn't a team player." Yunho sighs ".. I really try to be but sometimes my parents just get into my head and make me forget this is not a contest"

I frown at his story, it's sad that he can't express his passion the way he wants.

I stand up and hold my hand out for yunho. He looks up confused but grabs it, I pull him up and say "you need to enjoy this yunho, talk to your parents about it. It is your life and it should be fun while you're here" I say with a soft voice, not realizing that our hands are still together.

He suddenly pulls me into a hug which caught me off guard. "Thank you y/n. You're not so bad after all" I hear him whisper.

The morning of the play:

"Ahh! How are you feeling? Today’s the day!" Rina exclaims, practically bouncing with excitement as she walks next to me.

I can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. "I’m feeling really good about all this. Not only will this improve my chances of getting a scholarship, but it’s also helped Yunho and me forgive each other."

We turn a corner, and my heart skips a beat when I see Yunho standing there, talking to one of his friends. I’m about to wave when I catch his words.

"I don't know, man. She is so annoying. I can't handle it any longer. I'm happy this act is all over after tonight."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. Tears well up in my eyes. How could he say that after everything we’ve been through? After the connection we shared the other night?

Rina notices my change in demeanor immediately. "What’s wrong?"

I swallow hard, trying to keep my voice steady. "I just heard Yunho saying he can't stand me and he's glad this is all over after tonight."

Rina's eyes widen in shock, then narrow in anger. "What? That can’t be right. That son of a bitch"

I nod, biting my lip to keep from crying. "I don’t know if I can go through with this tonight, acting like everything is fine. This play has done nothing but be stressfull, I'm done"

Rina takes my hand, her grip firm and comforting. "Listen, I know this hurts, but quitting now isn’t the answer. You’ve worked too hard to let this ruin it. Just hold on a little longer, don't say or do anything you will regret later" she said "I'll be right back just don't do anything okay?"

I nod, trying to take comfort in her words, but the ache in my chest remains. I steal another glance at Yunho, who’s laughing at something his friend said

Later that day in the school's hallway:

“That jerk,” she mutters, clenching her fists. “I can’t believe he said that about you after everything you two have been through.”

I shrug, trying to act indifferent, but the hurt is clear in my eyes. “It’s fine, Rina. Let’s just get through tonight.”

“No, it’s not fine,” she snaps, standing up abruptly.

Before I can stop her, Rina storms across the hallway, heading straight for Yunho. My heart races, and I quickly follow her, catching snippets of her angry muttering.

“Rina, wait!” I call out, but she’s already reached Yunho and his group.

“Hey, Yunho!” Rina’s voice cuts through the chatter, silencing the group. Yunho looks up, surprised.

“Rina? What’s up?”

“What’s up?” she repeats, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’ll tell you what’s up. How dare you talk about Y/N like that behind her back?”

Yunho’s brows furrow in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Rina spits, crossing her arms. “Y/N heard you this morning, calling her annoying and saying you’re glad this is all over after tonight. How could you, after everything you two have been through?”

Yunho’s face pales, realization dawning on him. “Wait, that’s not what I—”

“Oh, save it!” Rina cuts him off, her anger palpable. “She thought you were friends, that you understood each other. But you’re just a two-faced jerk!”

By now, a small crowd has gathered, watching the confrontation unfold. I feel my cheeks burn with embarrassment and hurt, but I don’t stop Rina. She’s saying everything I wish I had the courage to say.

“Rina, please,” Yunho tries again, his voice pleading. “You’ve got it all wrong. I wasn’t talking about Y/N like that.”

“Then who were you talking about?” Rina demands, her eyes blazing.

Yunho takes a deep breath, looking around at the crowd before focusing on Rina. “I was talking about the director, I was talking to my friend about how I’ve been feeling overwhelmed by her, she has been on my toes the last few rehearsals. And plus if I had to say something mean to y/n I would just say it to hee face, I've done it the last few years.”

Rina’s anger falters, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face "Oh, well this is awkward" she said while laughing awkwardly.

That evening:

A buzz of excitement fills the air as students, teachers, and parents take their seats in the auditorium. Backstage, the cast is a whirlwind of activity, making final adjustments to costumes and props. My heart pounds in my chest, a mix of nerves and exhilaration. I peek through the curtain and see the audience settling in. This is it. Months of hard work, late nights, and overcoming differences have led to this moment.

Yunho stands next to me, adjusting his costume. He looks at me and smiles, a warm, genuine smile that sends a flutter through my stomach. "You ready?"

I nod, trying to steady my breath. "Ready as I'll ever be."

The romance scene is next up —the moment where our characters, after a series of misunderstandings and conflicts, finally confess their love. The lines have become second nature, but tonight, something feels different. There's an electricity in the air, a deeper connection that wasn’t there during rehearsals.

As Yunho and I move through our lines, the world around us fades away. It's just the two of us on stage, our characters’ emotions mirroring our own unspoken feelings. Yunho steps closer, his character's confession blending seamlessly with his own emotions.

"I've been thinking a lot about us," he says, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "And I realized something important. I can't imagine my life without you."

My heart races as I respond, my own feelings bubbling to the surface. "I feel the same way. You’ve challenged me, pushed me, and made me better. I’ve never felt this way before."

Yunho takes my hand, and the touch sends a spark through me. He looks into my eyes, and for a moment, it’s as if time stands still. "I love you," he says, I know it's just his character speaking. But it's feels a little too real.

Tears well up in my eyes, and I whisper, "I love you too."

The curtain falls, and the audience erupts into applause. We take our bows, the adrenaline still coursing through our veins. Backstage, the cast congratulates each other, but all I can think about is Yunho.

I find him in a quiet corner, away from the chaos. He looks up as I approach, a soft smile on his face "hey"

"Hey" I reply

"That was... incredible" He says, stepping closer.

I could smell his perfume, he was standing so close. It made My heart beat a lot faster. "It really was..."

He looks down and meet my eyes, we don't say anything but we both feel what's about to come. "Would you like to go somewhere private..?" He asks, his voice low.

I nod, "I would like that"

He grabs my hand and we walk towards the drama room. The place where it all began. The room is quiet and dark, the only source of light is the moonlight that is shining through the tall windows.

Yunho closes the door behind us, and the click of the lock seems to tighten the tension even more. We stand there for a moment, just looking at each other in silence.

He moves closer, his hand moving away a piece of my hair.

His lips meet mine, it starts of soft but quickly deepens. His arms wrap around me, pulling me closer until there is no more space left between us.

We pull away, stading there breathlessly. And yunhos eyes search mine. A silent question hanging in the air. I nod, giving him my answer without him having to ask it.

He leads me to the small couch in to corner of the room, we sink down on soft cushions, his hands move gently over the curves of my body. I lay one of my hands on his bicep, he tenses up under my touch and his muscles tighten.

Yunho reconnects the kiss again, this time it's with hunger and passion. He slowly slides his hand under my shirt, cupping one of my breasts. The warmth of his hand tingling on my skin.

I gasp when he pulls my shirt over my head and throws it on the floor. Exposing me to the cool air. He lowers his head and starts to kiss me all over my body "you're so beautiful" He murmurs against my skin.

I blush, my hands start to unbutton his shirt revealing his chest. He shrugs himself out of the fabric and I move my hands over his skin.

We're now left in our underwear, Yunho's hand moves down, his fingers teasing the edge of my panties before slipping under the material. When his finger enters me, a groan escapes my lips, muffled by our kiss.

He takes my reaction as encouragement, adding another finger and moving in and out in a steady movement. The sensation of his fingers moving in and out of me sends waves of pleasure through my body, and I arch my back, pressing closer to him.

"Yunho," I whisper, my voice breathy and filled with need.

He breaks the kiss, his eyes locking onto mine, dark with desire. "Does this feel good?" he asks, his voice husky.

"Yes," I moan, my hands gripping his shoulders for support.

Yunho's free hand trails up my side, his touch light and teasing. He kisses a path down my neck, his lips leaving a burning trail on my skin. As his fingers continue their rhythm, he takes one of my nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it. The combined sensations are almost too much, and I gasp, my fingers digging into his shoulders.

"Yunho, I need you," I manage to say between ragged breaths.

He looks up at me, his expression a mix of tenderness and desire. "I need you too," he whispers.

With a final, lingering kiss, he pulls his fingers out and helps me out of the last of our clothing. We pause for a moment, just taking in the sight of each other, the intimacy of the moment deepening our connection.

Yunho gently lays me back on the couch, positioning himself above me. He takes a condom from his wallet, and with a quick, practiced motion, he rolls it on. His eyes meet mine, seeking one last confirmation.

I nod, my heart pounding with a mix of nerves and anticipation. "I'm ready."

He aligns himself with me, and as he slowly enters, we both gasp at the sensation. He moves with care, giving us both time to adjust. Once he’s fully inside, he pauses, our foreheads touching as we share a moment of stillness

Yunho starts to move, it's slow at first but once I wrapped my legs around his waist he couldn't hold back any longer. A groan escaped from his lips and he fastened his pace.

His hands roam over my body, caressing and teasing, driving me closer to the edge. I can feel the tension building, the knot tightening inside of me.

"Yunho I'm close" I whisper against his neck.

"Me too" He says, his voice strained with his pleasure.

The sound of our breathing is getting heavier and faster. With a final trust I feel a wave of pleasure wash over me, yunho throws his head back when he feels my juices spilling over his cock. That is enough to send him over the edge too. Our moans filling the silent room.

We collapse together, yunho holds me close. His breath warm against my skin as we come down from the high.

"I think I like you y/n" yunho said, pressing a soft kiss against my forehead.

"I like you too yunho" I whisper back.

We lie there for a little longer, wrapped in each other's arms. And that's when I realized that this moment was the beginning of something beautiful.

#yunho smut #ateez yunho #jeong yunho #ateez smut #smut #ateez #ateez fanfic #romance fiction #romance #dance #theatre #love #fluff #yunho x reader #yunho fluff #yunho fic #yunho #trending

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todomitoukei · 5 months ago

Note

Honestly it’s a depressing ending for the villains. We get hardly any follow up for the remaining ones, Toga was the last one I expected to die and I was hoping it was a ruse at first. But since it’s official it’s heartbreaking. It’s lacklustre just throwing in a character to portray Tomura and what would happen if a civilian did reach a hand out, and throwing in another character for Deku to interact with. Honestly even the heroes were pointless, nothing has really changed in the system. Hawks never got a consequence for his actions, hell it could have been explored of a hero murdering a villain questioning the like of what makes a villain or hero. But he rises in ranks and has done nothing. I just feel it’s such a rushed ending, and I would have been ok with the same ending if it didn’t feel so messy and compiled together. There are so many loose ends and follow ups from characters, Shoto especially. It’s unfortunate, but honestly I’m glad it’s over. I lost passion after a while, but I appreciate the joy it’s gave me when I first started following the manga and getting into the anime, and experiencing the highs and lows of manga leaks. Dabi was my main one, and it’s one positive I gain from this ending for how open it is to his fate. It’s just sad that it ended this way.

Hori's biggest strength is for sure coming up with interesting ideas - like you said, exploring certain parts could've made for an incredibly interesting story. However, his biggest weakness is not following through with what he's starting, doing a 180 right at the end every time.

The cast has always been too big, yet he chooses to show us minor villains like Gentle and La Brava - who receive a happy ending - while the main antagonists endings aren't even being shown.

As much as the villains dying sucks (subjectively but also objectively since the story spent so much time telling us it's about reaching out and helping everyone no matter what), if they had been at least given a proper conclusion it could've been acceptable, yet after 400+ chapters, the author couldn't even bother to show all the main antagonists and their endings.

Where exactly is Spinner? We know he wrote and published a book, but is he in jail and if so, how did they allow him to publish this book?

Is Compress in jail forever? Is he still in a cell with Geten? He read Spinner's book, but how did he get hold of it? Was the prison kind enough to give him a copy?

What about Touya? Assuming he's dead, how much longer did he have? Did his family care when he died? How is the family coping? Are they getting along? Why did Horikoshi not show us Natsuo and Touya talk after spending so much time saying they used to be so close? Natsuo not saying anything and having mixed emotions after all of this was actually an interesting idea, but not when you don't do anything more with it - now people just think Natsuo is an asshole when in reality, he has every right to feel conflicted, but it sucks as a conclusion when we've all been looking forward to seeing him and Touya finally get to reunite and be happy.

What was the point of Shigaraki appearing as a ghost to Deku? Why wouldn't he at least appear in front of his friends? Why wouldn't we see him show up in front of Spinner, approving his book or something?

And yes, Shouto, too. Why is the main info we get in regards to his father? What about his hero costume, which we aren't even being shown? Did he ever change his hero name or is it going to be Shouto forever?

I wouldn't even say it's rushed as much as it's an unbalanced focus. The last few chapters could've been focusing on these subplots, but instead Hori tried to mimick the tone of the first season by showing the kids returning to school and whatnot, something that could've been shown in less time to also make space for elaborating on a bigger variety of characters and plot points.

I'm also glad it's over, I just wish these characters could've been in a better story.

#bnhavent #ask

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daetko · 4 months ago

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EPICCCCCC okay so can i gett

BEACH VOLLEYBALL ; send me a few characters and i’ll write a drabble of a beach volleyball match between them ( & you!)

i think im gonna put 4 ppl on each team, so for team one i want:

bakugo, mina, ochako, todoroki, and denki

and for team two:

mashirao, iida, midoriya, kirishima, and me!!

i hope i did this right,, i can remove or add characters if need be!!! i tried to make the teams as fair as possible HEHDHE

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⛱️ beach volleyball

⊱ cw ; gn reader (no pronouns mentioned), crack wc 1.2k, not proofread

⊱ a/n ; livvy! hiii sorry for taking a while ! i was on the plane when i wrote this,,,, i hope u like it! i got too carried away with the word count hope that’s ok! thank u for requesting!

⊱ masterlist , event navigation

the sun blazed down on the beach, casting long shadows across the sand as the waves swayed in the background. the air was filled with the sounds of summer—laughter, the distant call of seagulls, and the steady thump of a volleyball being bounced between eager hands.

“come on y/n, let’s go easy on them now so we beat them later” kirishima grinned cockily while a nervous ojiro and midoriya sweat dropped in the back.

Iida stepped in front of you both, looking determined “okay, y/n, kirishima. let’s win fair and square” “no way iidas into it!” “i’m kind of scared now, actually…” a banter between mina and ochaco was heard, as you sighed in relief knowing the tallest and fastest guy on your team was ready. “let’s win this already, damnit!” bakugo’s tsk was followed by a yell, firing his team up. this was going to be fun.

you took your positions, ready and determined. the match started with a powerful serve from bakugo followed by his signature “DIEEEEE!”, which was amazingly dug by ojiro, with bakugo glaring as smoke gushed from his head. “got it!” midoriya called out, confidently jumping to set the ball to you, which you accelerated from your position to spike— but todoroki blocked it. “good job” and “YEAH, ‘ROKI!” were heard from the opposite team as kirishima and iida simultaneously let out a “tsk”.

“It’s only one point! the next one is definitely ours!” ojiro comforted, as ochaco was up to serve next. she took a deep breath, threw the ball in the air, and jumped high—but the serve was out of bounds by barely a millimeter. “you look constipated.” denki joked to a deflated uraraka warning a nape slap from mina. you stifled a giggle as mina patted ochacos back who looked like she was about to throw up.

Iit was iida’s turn to serve, and he looked every bit as confident as you’d expect from the class president. taking a few steps back, he tossed the ball high and launched himself into the air, spiking it with unbelievable speed. the ball hit the opposite court hard— earning your team a well-deserved point. cheers erupted around you as iida landed, teammates hyping him up with grins and shouts.

now, it was your turn. your eyes locked with bakugo’s, who was glaring daggers your way, making your heart skip a beat. but you shook it off, took a deep breath, and tossed the ball just a foot into the air. with a flat hand, you hit it—a float serve that was notoriously tricky to dig. even though Mina managed to get under it, the ball wobbled in the air, making their spike attempt sloppy. kirishima quickly blocked it, securing another point.

the match continued, and before you knew it, the score was 24-23, with the opposing team just one point away from winning the set. sweat dripped down your face, and the sound of heavy breaths and the scrape of sandy feet filled the tense air— the continuous glances between your teammates eased up the pressure in the air but with the opposition being a point ahead and at set point made the tension unbearable. midoriya leaped into the air, slapping the ball with a cupped hand, todoroki receiving it and mina quickly set it up for a focused uraraka, who sent it flying toward denki. he went for the spike, which got blocked by iida. the ball ricocheted off his hands, but Bakugo, now face-first on the floor, somehow managed to keep it in play.

As long as the ball was in the air, there was still hope.

uraraka set it for mina, who managed to get a spike in. that’s the first set with a win to the opposite team. everyone dropped to the floor to catch their breath, dismissing the celebration till later. after getting up, you took a 15 minute break and the second set started.

the tension in the air was thick, everyone fully aware that the next set would determine the match. after the short break, both teams returned to the court refreshed, though the exhaustion was evident in the way they moved.

denki, grinning despite the exhaustion, bounced the volleyball in his hand as he approached the serving line. “alright, round two, ready to get your ass beat?”

you rolled your eyes and scoffed, “don’t think about it too much before your brain short circuits dummy” you earned a tsk from the blonde

the ball flew over the net with surprising speed, but this time, ojiro was ready— he dug the ball up effortlessly, sending it flying to iida, who set it up perfectly for you. with adrenaline pumping through your veins you jumped, your hand meeting the ball at the perfect moment. the satisfying smack echoed through the air as the ball flew past todoroki’s outstretched arms, landing just inside the boundary line.

“YEAHH!” you shouted, your teammates cheering you on.

the game continued, each point hard-fought. bakugo, as expected, played with an intensity that seemed like he would murder someone anytime now, his determination to win unwavering as every move he made became harsher. but your team was ready and expectant, matching your opponents point for point.

before long, the score was tied at 24-24, the final set in a deadlock. two more points and the winner will be decided. your classmates that had gathered around the makeshift court watched with excitement and cheers as you all were ready to win.

“let’s finish this,” kirishima muttered, breathless, clapping a hand on your shoulder. you nodded, focusing all your energy on the ball in front of you. the serve came over the net, spinning wildly. midoriya dove for it, barely managing to keep it in play. the ball sprang up, and a serious ojiro set it high into the air. you glanced towards the ball in the air, knowing this was up to the boy you have high expectations from; both you and iida jumped with a hand raised, but you knew the ball was going towards the boy with the glasses— and he did not disappoint—with all the strength he could muster, he slammed the ball down with a powerful spike, that sailed past the blockers and hit the sand with a thud, earning your team a point. set point it was now, with your classmates cheering both teams up.

midoriya sighed as he stepped towards the serving line, serving a long ball which was received by ochaco who sent it to todoroki, setting it to denki ? bakugo ? both of them flew up at the same time but the ball was too long to go to denki who’s closer to the setter. taking notice of this, you sprung off the heels of your feet and jumped towards where bakugo was coming from, blocking him completely, as the ball hit the sand and your hand bent backwards.

for a moment, there was silence. and then, the beach exploded in cheers, your team got the set back! your teammates gathered around as you celebrated your set win, ending the game with a 1-1 score— a tie, but atleast you didn’t lose.

Or so you thought.

“third set starts in 15 minutes everyone!” iida yelled as he walked towards the bench with water. You sighed.

A whistle was heard, and you took your positions as the tie breaker set started

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writingmochi · 9 months ago

Text

part 2

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

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

word count: 36351 (36.3k) out of 60550 (60.5k)

warning(s): so many curse words!, implication of abortion, rejection, depression, mention of cigarettes, mentions of consumption of alcohol, explicit description of active labor and childbirth, blood, explicit sex, pregnant sex, pretty rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up tho guys), hand job (m & f receive), oral job (m & f receive), dirty talk with pet names (daddy & mama), marking, multiple orgasms, creampies (if there is something that i forgot, let me know)

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

i genuinely didn't expect THAT much attention on the first part! here is the rest and yes, the word count increased by 2k words. thank you so much for the love and support on the first part and enjoy! p.s. all the links will be edited including from the character intro and the first part!

soundtrack | read part 1 first!

3. the heat of lightning is 30.000° celsius

“bro, innie. your stream is starting.” chaeryeong calls out from the couch as the setup of jeongin’s camera and lights are standing in front of her. jimin brought in the snacks and put them on the coffee table right in front of ryujin and minjeong who sitting on either side of you. beomgyu and heeseung follow suit, sitting on the other dining table seats brought to the living area while jeongin is setting up his stream on obs.

you could see—from the mini setup of his—the chat scrolling up as you watched them get familiarized with the names that had come back from when jeongin asked you and the girls to join him on his last stream. his viewers seemed to enjoy it so much that another one was scheduled the next day, which is today after lots and lots of matching up free time schedules. as jeongin sat in between minjeong and jimin, he used his wireless mouse to change the static “starting soon” screen so chat could see all of you on the screen inside the boys’ apartment. the apartment that you’ve been hanging around about for the past month.

jeongin starts with, “ey, welcome chat!”

“WELCOME! WOO!” ryujin’s fanfare sounded as you heard the laughter being thrown all around you.

“since you guys have been wanting to for us to play again together since the last stream we did, well surprise, surprise! here we are!” the others seemed to hype him up as jeongin continued to speak. minjeong playfully slaps your hand as you try to not knock your headset that is lightly placed on your belly and playing classical music—something that heeseung’s mom told you could help with the babies inside you—as none of jeongin’s viewers have noticed your pregnancy bump with the successful oversized maternity top you shopped alongside beomgyu. jeongin continues to greet the chat on today’s stream.

“we did mario kart last time but now we will do mario party. but not just any mario party, courtesy of smosh games: we’re doing reverse mario party where the last place is the winner.”

“finally, (y/n) can win-“

“SHUT THE FUCK UP HEESEUNG.” you throw the pillow behind you, right towards him as beomgyu stood up to massage your shoulder, hyping you up while heeseung playfully glares at you.

“also, this is chaereyong’s idea. but we decided to not make this stream another "boys vs girls" type, but more so a mixed group with these wooden chopsticks inside the mug here helps in picking which person is in which team.” jeongin holds onto the mug as he pushes it towards each person, picking up the chopsticks one by one. in a countdown, all of you show the chopsticks you picked together as heeseung find his one marked—the same along with you, beomgyu, and ryujin: making you four a team.

the seating arrangements change as you are seated in between the two boys. you’ve already told them that you might not get too physical as you let ryujin and beomgyu play first, playing as luigi and waluigi, respectively. heeseung can hear how you are encouraging your team to play bad as your arms wrap behind beomgyu’s back, making heeseung feel a little iffy but he is just rolling his eyes watching the two using his switch controllers that jeongin asked him to lend out for the eight-peopled stream.

for the past month, as the two groups got closer, heeseung realized how strong your influence is. maybe it’s because you are used to taking care of children—just like his friends’ childish behaviors are—but your demeanor matches well with all of them. when heeseung heard beomgyu invited you and your girls over, he was taken aback by just how easily both groups can blend in with each other. but then he is reminded of what you said on that basketball court: how you want to have a truce with him. how he is so much more ahead of you that you deviate from the sport of basketball that you still seem to enjoy.

heeseung couldn’t join much of the hangout as he was being brought into the season’s games and competing left to right. the scream of his name from the bleachers rings in his ears as he recognizes a few of his fans and decelis’ fans supporting the team as he checks his phone during the break. he remembers how he caught a notification from jeongin’s stream, pressing the banner to see you appearing on it with him as you play guess the song or some sort of game similar to it. then, he remembered one day after you both came out of the doctor park’s office for your biweekly check-up. a sudden proposition you push to him as you hold your phone with the screen showing a familiar social media.

“i’ll follow your instagram and you follow mine back.”

“why?” he questioned, arms wrapped in front of him with squinting eyes.

“that’s another baby step for us to be like what our moms want it to be. you say so yourself.” you also replied with your own wrapped arms in front of you, letting the flowy cloth be pushed towards your body as he could see the shape of it and the appearance of your revealing bump. heeseung let out a groan as he said his username.

“which is your full name?” you raised an eyebrow.

“hey, it’s for personal branding and it’s rare to have a username to be your name…”

you snicker as you hit the follow button, seeing the three-digit number on top now becoming four.

“really? i’m your 1000th follower?” you playfully grab something out of the chest pocket of heeseung’s unbuttoned shirt, placing it near your heart like a badge of rare achievement.

“i’m honored.” your face scrunches, forcing out a tear that is not showing, making you blame your current stable hormone for that not happening. heeseung looked at the notification showing up, a snort coming out of him as he leaned his head closer.

“for fucking real? you’re asking me about why my username is like that while yours is mu- mune ga-“

“mune ga hachikire-sode, ‘my chest seems like it’s going to burst’.” you answered so quickly it’s like you have talked about it before that it became an automated response, earning a pregnant pause as you tilted your head towards him while he stares towards your vicinity. a small gap in between his lips as time passes by without sound between the two of you before he closes the gap and smiles.

“must be a freaking mitski lyric.”

you snorted out a laugh, wondering why he knows you so well.

heeseung gazes at how his friends and your friends seem to thrive under your hyper-ness, even making ryujin jokingly angry because you were unintentionally supporting the other team, making you let out the pout that he doesn’t expect to witness so much from when the semester starts. and now, as it approaches the end with the new year’s coming alongside the gender reveal party coming soon and the last matches for the tournament near the end of the year. life seems to go so fast for him, yet here you are thriving in it. as if you are influenced by some kind of deity that is making people around you notice and care about your presence, frolicking around as you seem to make their lives a tad bit easier to face with your motherly care and, what he acknowledge, your emotional intelligence.

something heeseung had also grown for the past 3 months since you told him you're pregnant with his kids.

the boy realized just how quiet he was when he sensed your shoulder touching his as you leaned back against the sofa to just stare at the screen of jimin screaming how he had to get another star, making him now in first place. a soft smile on your face as you glance at your friends having fun before you feel the trembles against your thigh when you catch heeseung’s leg jittering from how he is moving his achilles’ heel in a random rhythm.

“you alright?” heeseung looks down to find your hand on top of his pant-covered thigh. you give him a thin lip frown as you let your touch soothe him down, seemingly not minding the entire history you have with him. the boy is suddenly too embarrassed to see you as you watch the redness growing on both of his cheeks. you wanted to tease him about it—maybe it’s the awkwardness cause he was not there when you started to get close to his friends—that is showing up now.

as you look at your hand against his thigh, courtesy of your muscles' memory telling you to try soothing every nervous child in your way, you retreat it back to your space before beomgyu wraps his arm around your back to pull you into his embrace while you see the stars and coins are being tallied up alongside additional stars that are given. beomgyu has both hands around your and ryujin’s shoulders as you follow with the momentum, seeing that ryujin got last place–making your team win the first round of mario party.

beomgyu handed the switch controller to his best friend as the game resets for the second round where it is you and heeseung vs. minjeong and jeongin—said girl is focusing on the chat because she is convinced that she caught sungchan’s username there. your cursor instantly picks at rosalina whilst heeseung moves his to pick bowser. peeking to the side, you recognize the competitiveness that is shown from how heeseung is glaring towards the tv screen as you try to flick that same emotion on in your mind. when you feel it tainting you, you give minjeong a sly wink from where you are sitting. that even though she’s one of your best friends, you’re not taking her lightly.

the second game was a tad bit chaotic as physical play was done when jeongin seemed to make mind games by positioning himself behind where you and heeseung sit. yet, the rivalry doesn’t just create between your team and the other team; heeseung has also started playing dirty when he grabs onto your controller to stop you from failing the task.

“ughh!” you groan out as you hear the laugh coming from jimin on the other sofa, making you answer by covering heeseung’s eyes as he couldn’t see where his bowser was supposed to fell off the platform, proclaiming him to win the match and increase the ever-loving coins he owns, making him have to buy the star if he came across it: only five more spaces to go on the board. the way you hinder him from failing and he does the same to you creates a slapstick that jeongin’s chat seems to revel in as you spot jimin reading the text that is running to the top of the monitor as fast as the light goes.

“woah!” he proclaimed as you noticed chaeryeong snickering from the rapidly moving chat. “people seemed to ship you and heeseung, (y/n).”

“no kidding.” you reacted as you stared at the way your rosalina was three spots closer to the star—no choice but to buy one as you got over 20 coins. your body forces you to stand up as you kneel to see the chat, eyes glancing between four points on the screen of jeongin’s laptop: the chat who is now arguing on who are the “correct” ships within the people here, the screen as minjeong rolls the dice for her shy guy to move, beomgyu who leans back against the sofa’s backrest, and heeseung who is leaning forward to the screen before you caught his eyes for a few milliseconds.

“come on, chat. really? me and heeseung?” you audibly scoffed, glancing at your friends that is showing on the stream a few seconds later from the latency. “what about me and beomgyu? he’s also nice to me.”

“I SURE DO, (Y/N).” he said as you could detect him grinning with two thumbs up before he rested his hands behind the sofa by your empty seat. but you could see heeseung’s very obvious scowl as he didn’t say anything. the determination to lose against you may now be influenced with an even more push—because you did say to him that you’re the one losing in your battle.

“not your mods creating a poll for who shipped (y/n) with whom and the fact that (y/n) x jeongin is pretty high too.” chaeryeong stated as you tried to hold back your laughter. with the knowledge; which you’ve just known as you started hanging out with the boys; that jeongin’s mom is an ob-gyn doctor also, he has let you talk to his mom when it’s jeongin’s turn to “babysit” you—"per heeseung’s request" he said—making you show up on jeongin’s stream more often than the other girls as you and he create a more sibling vibe where he teaches you how to game. with the help of every woman around you including jeongin’s mom, you could say that you can expect what you’ll expect for your second and third trimesters and your birth. how jeongin’s mom and doctor park’s sayings are pretty much similar in a way as they remind you that you have to give birth to your twins before week 40 so that they could fit through your hip bone since you want to do it the normal way.

you were glad beomgyu had invited you to meet up. because you felt like you’d met brand new people with whom you seemed to have a sense of familiarity. like old friends having a reunion.

“WOAH! (y/n) x heeseung is no.1!” jimin reacted as all of you heard the chime of a gift sent to jeongin followed by a text-to-speech sound.

“(y/n) and heeseung’s bickering is something i aspire to have with my significant other.” the robot voice sounds as you watch ryujin’s wide eyes getting larger, knowing your real-life relationship as she has been there the longest as of right now alongside beomgyu who is just holding a subtle sheepish smirk.

“bickering because we aren’t compatible with each other? yeah right,” you give a verbal jab as you can see the comments updating a few seconds later when your words are streamed, making people send the sus emote in the chat column but also a few “opposites attract” and “you can get to know each more” comments as you looked at heeseung. the corner of his lips rose as you gave up on reading the chat before sitting down back to your empty seat. your body was instantly ignited in surprise as you could feel how beomgyu was holding your shoulder, stretching his arm behind your shoulders as you were trying your best to use your special dice to lose. then, you sensed a shift on your thigh as you find heeseung’s moving his against yours, either to distract you… or to tell you something you haven’t realized.

heeseung was heaving as the coach took him out of the court to the sidelines to bring sungho in as his replacement. drops of sweat are forming on his exposed forearm while he watches the score of his team nearing 50 in the game's last quarter. sunoo gave him a small towel as he looked to the back to only see none of his friends on the bleachers. other than ryujin, all of them are watching the want2dance crew showcase—you and beomgyu have no information circulating even though his turn to take care of you. heeseung should’ve been ecstatic that he got the ticket for the finale that easily. sure, the rival is strong enough, but with niki now standing as a center alongside sunghoon, they’ve been able to block the shots of the other team with their long limbs and agile jumps.

yet, all he could worry about was how much he had learned for the next appointment with the doula as he was trying to beat you with the advantage you had by the women all around you—including jeongin’s mom he had hidden as a wildcard now exposed to you.

he tried to familiarize his hands with how to hold a baby with a plushy jeongin still owned in his room before he tried using the full 2-liter water bottle he had that was identical to the real weight. heeseung had read the books that the doula recommended to him—well, heard the books that doula had recommended as he worked out with the audiobook version speaking to his ears. yet, the only thing that miss haseul said that he is stuck in his mind as he looks at you who is closing your eyes whilst you stretch your back because of his babies is…

“don’t just stand there.”

heeseung doesn’t just stand there, he does things he tried to help; preparing groceries so that you don’t have to worry about that, carrying your bags around so you don’t have to walk as your stomach is getting bigger than ever from the growing fetuses. yet he knew what the phrase actually implies.

“don’t just stand there.” take care of her, be there for her, love her.

but how could heeseung love you when you’ve been such a pest in his life? sure, that night at the basketball court is a step of progress towards normalcy in your relationship, but, just like you said. baby steps are needed as you both had hurt each other so much; after he now knows of what you feel in the catalyst of why you hate each other and how you also know of his.

the coach’s board is pushed in front of him as he traces the magnetic jersey symbol with the number 3 representing his position as the small forward if he got to be put on the court once again. since jake is playing as the point guard and how he had been killing it in slipping through the rival’s defense, heeseung’s job is to find an opening so he can throw the ball to either jake or sungho who will stay nearer to the half-circle if heeseung got put in.

“or just try to shoot as many 3-pointers as you like. we have the advantage here and our goal is to make that gap wider. passing 50 would be great.” coach min said, making heeseung turn his head towards the scoreboard, seeing the 45:36 bold in the red LED lights. and with his mind not wanting to wait more for his appointment, his gaze changes as he sounds his understanding to the coach. heeseung stretched his neck when he viewed the coach walk to the side referee so he could be switched back in.

heeseung explains as best as he able to the other four of the court about the plan, making jake and sungho nod their heads and niki with taesan at the back of their side of the court showing their own styles of understanding. the ball was thrown by the rival as taesan snatched it, pivoting on his legs before giving a bounce pass towards heeseung who was running pass the center line near the 3-pointer curve. his head is going into alert mode as he maneuvers the ball so that the rival who is pinning on him won’t steal it. a few passes between him, taesan, and niki; heeseung found an opening to go inside near the basket as he surged forward like a tank, making his own opening as he passed the ball to jake who scored a layup. heeseung recognized the rival could get a free throw chance, but he doubted it would go in as jake and sungho were prepared for a rebound with the second free throw.

the score is now 49:38 as he could see the time is now under 60 seconds. heeseung took control of the ball the most while he tried his best to find an opening for either jake or sungho, but with the change of two players from the other team coming in: they seemed to know his strategy as not one of them was bamboozled by how fast the passes are between him, niki, and taesan. the others figured out they had only one chance left to do a foul. they knew they only had 15 seconds till the shot clock ran out and under 30 seconds on the time of the scoreboard. heeseung realized something, something that can be stupid but will have a better chance of a happy ending in the end.

as heeseung bounces the ball on the ground towards niki—not strong enough like the last few times—the rival successfully robbed the ball as the shot clock resets. all the boys retreated as heeseung was the first one to hold off on the guy who was holding the ball, seemingly not knowing what to do with the ball in his possession. heeseung knows that they’re doing this to play defense against decelis because they don't want the gap to get even wider.

their passes aren’t as quick as his team's when taesan successfully clutches the ball and passes it to heeseung. the clock is under 5 seconds and he heard the growing sound of people counting down from the seats. he knew he couldn’t lay up as it would be too far or even shooting in the safer throwing area even if it gave a higher chance is risky. no, heeseung flung the ball as best as he could after passing the center line. the buzzing sound signals the end of the game as heeseung stares at the ball falling in an arch so perfectly that it gets caught by the net and instantly falls through with no theatrics, making everyone roar.

“there it is, folks. lee heeseung, number 1 from decelis, makes the game as he scores a 3-pointer buzzer-beater. AND SUCCEEDED. congratulations to hybe’s decelis. you will enter the grand finale after the new year’s celebration.”

he could sense the embrace of his teammates around him. jungwon is the closest as he playfully brushes his sweaty hair, making him glare, and wants to go out of the embrace when it’s two layers of players deep. coach min comes and gives his own thumbs up before guiding him near the referee's place as he and his team are met with the rivals, who show their sportsmanship by shaking their hands. heeseung recognizes of one of the players when said player wraps his arm around his shoulders. the announcer with a small bundle full of snacks.

“and here he is. player of the match, lee heeseung of decelis!”

heeseung hears the ovations coming from the decelis side of the bleachers as he receives the bundle, knowing that he would ravish this in one go because, my god, is he starving. congratulatory talks are spoken among the players as if it’s more of a friendly match rather than in a tournament setting, yet as heeseung walks around to meet the team he had his match with, the reminder of the appointment pinned on his mind rings once again.

pulling up to the assigned locker room, he pulls off his jersey so he can wipe his sweaty body using a smaller towel that is wet with water cause he doesn’t think that he has enough time to shower when the appointment is in an hour. feeling the clean wet towel getting rid of the stickiness on his body, he eyes his teammates who are still gleaming from their win of the ticket to the grand final. yet, for heeseung, he had been numb to the feeling. of course, he had to do well with basketball because it was for his scholarship, but knowing that he had possibly secured the scholarship for his final semester, he could actually relax from it and focus on other things in life.

his desire to be a sports journalist and, now, his preparation to be a dad.

“guys, i’m not gonna join to eat after this,” he spoke out after he heard jake asking him. a regular post-match meal is a tradition with the decelis guys. but heeseung has other places to go as he uses his body spray all over his torso and tucks his head and arms into his clean t-shirt, the decelis jersey’s bottom with the #1 still in place, and a pair of recovery sandals to let his feet breathe. heeseung gave the guys his bag of cheetos from the ‘player of the match’ bundle as little cookies and chocolates are enough to satiate his needs, knowing that he could buy takeout as he returned to his apartment, or if you also wanted to grab something to eat after meeting haseul.

the engine groans as the car turns alive. heeseung pulls out of the parking lot of the arena as he drives towards the office, the radio playing his own bluetooth-connected music as he recovers himself from the euphoria of the match, returning to the reality of his other responsibilities. he hadn’t heard from you for a while—when usually you are the one to nag if he has arrived or about his whereabouts as you prepare yourself to meet him. he was glad that he could enjoy the calmness even for just a few minutes, seeing the various silhouettes of the outside world passing by when the office building shows up in his sight from his windshield.

heeseung presses the button to lock the car as he approaches the office in his post-match outfit, a tote bag hanging from his shoulders that is filled with the notes haseul, doctor park, and jeongin’s mom gave to him printed as he might ask for some elaboration about it. though most doulas focus on the mom, he is glad that haseul can also handle first-time fathers as well because, as she said, “sometimes the dad is the more anxious one out of the two.” he acknowledges this because, as he had a talk with his own dad about this, the pregnancy is out of the dad’s control most of the time. especially in giving birth, as the only thing that they could do was to observe how the birthing was going. which means that he has to trust you to do your deed.

he recalled haseul given him and you a “bonding” exercise which is filled with laughter instead as both of you couldn’t be serious enough about this. how you both had to stay in eye contact for 5 minutes to “feel your connection getting tighter”. sometimes, he had to blink or look away from your eyes cause it was piercing with unknown emotions. but he got reminded of when both of you had sex, that final part when he is just staring at you as you sit on his shaft, grinding to find out who will cum first to break the tie. the feeling was similar—an unspoken bond created between the two full of complex history and emotions he has to untangle one by one.

heeseung’s knuckles knocked on the door as he heard the movement inside. the door opened to let him see haseul in her professional clothing.

“heeseung! come in.” she steps aside as he is met with haseul and…

nobody else.

“where’s (y/n)?”

haseul turns her head to him, “i thought you knew, she didn’t say that we’re cancelling today’s appointment.”

“hmm…” heeseung replied as he grabbed his phone, seeing the instagram notifications from the people who tagged him in the match for being the ‘player of the match’. but, when he sees your account profile flashing on the top—the newly followed account as you both did a follow-for-follow—he taps the icon to see you and beomgyu in your instagram stories, how you hooked your arm with beomgyu’s as you walk down a sidewalk, how you recorded chaeryeong dancing with her crew and tag her, how he had seen a photo of you, beomgyu, minjeong, jeongin, chaeryeong, and jimin after the show, and a photo of food at the end as he sees you tag all of his friends and yours, including ryujin who seemed to be available to do a get together because of her modeling appointment.

all except him.

to say that heeseung is heartbroken by that is an understatement. sure not all of his guys are available to watch him play all the time—only jeongin showed up to his quarter-final match last time, but to realize that the change of dynamic happened because of you is making the flint in his heart move faster to ignite the fire. and to know that you didn’t even cancel the appointment, to leave haseul hanging, when you have babies to take care of as you have used your own money to pay for the appointment, while you do a get-together that can be done anytime during the rest of the 3 months of your pregnancy. the changes within the dynamic for the past two months are ridiculous and heeseung…

all he could do was sigh as he closed his phone, glancing up to glance at haseul who had a warm smile on her face.

“well, i have a few things i hope you elaborate on.” the boy said, using this appointment to help him be the better parent.

“shit!”

you had to stop yourself from walking as you perceived the contractions coming from your uterus, the same feeling when you had your period, yet it’s dimmer and longer. as the weather gets colder, you tucked your coat that is draping outside of your maternity dress and legging on. you have to thank chaeryeong once again for helping you put it on. the two of them continue to grow inside you as you walk the familiar path towards the boys’ apartment, as per heeseung request cause jeongin told him they wanted to play a game together and you, being the new addition to jeongin’s stream, seemed to be asked to join in.

you could deny it. but you can join cause you have nearly all of your class projects finished, especially the marketing research one as you use the daycare as the protagonist of your case study to figure out how to market a product to different parents. you still have two exams for the two other classes you took this semester and then, it’s all done for you. and with the warmth you receive from the boys, you want to give it back to them too.

you give a small nod to the security guard as you press the button for the elevator, seeing one of the two open as you are greeted with the empty elevator with reflective sheets of metal surrounding the side walls. as you practically waddle inside the elevator and press the correct floor button, you gaze at yourself through the mirror-like surface. turning your body to the side, you view how your coat protrudes from the front as it creates a right triangle shape. moving one side of the coat behind, you observe how your maternity clothes are stretched by your belly to show the growing lives inside of you. the growing lives you can feel are moving around, but haven’t reached out to you as you can only sense them within you. you need to blame heeseung because of the way they push up your intestines, making you very much nauseous all the time after you eat.

the ring of the elevator dings stayed as you walked and arrived at the front door of the boys’ apartment. no sound is heard from the other side—maybe jeongin is waiting for you to arrive so he can start the stream together. the sound of the doorbell is picked up as you gaze at the camera lens connected to the intercom inside before you to the door when you catch the footsteps approaching from behind the door.

appearing before you is heeseung in a white graphic t-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants. he seems to have a slight pant with his breathing—like he was working out. you’ve opened your mouth as you saw, wanting to talk about something, but you forgot what as you see him rolling his eyes and a “come in” is spoken, leaving you alone by the cabinet for their shoes as you tried your best to slip out of it without the help of your hands.

the apartment is in the regular state rather than the group stream set jeongin had to do. a duffle bag of what looks like to be heeseung’s has a few pairs of basketball shoes—known for the tall shape as it guards your ankle more than regular sports shoes. the wooden floorboard is warm as you guessed he had to turn the heater on, making your way towards the hallways where heeseung and jeongin’s rooms are across from each other.

that’s when you hear a sound.

the sound of nothingness as you approached jeongin’s ajar bedroom door, seeing it empty.

“where’s jeong-?”

“we have to talk, (l/n).” heeseung cuts you off again as he turns his head to face you, his hand on his door so he can just push it open as you stare at him, agape.

“jeongin’s with his stray kids guys doing a group stream,” he added as he knows you wouldn’t stop asking if you don’t know, especially cause jeongin’s the one who invited you—which makes you finally think about how it’s so weird that he had to go through heeseung to invite you when he could just message you through the instagram dm. heeseung gave you one more gaze before going inside his room, leaving the door open as you could feel the swelling tension that was heavier than what your usual banter had been for the past few months.

walking inside, you were met with the wrinkled mattress and comforter of heeseung’s bed. the same bed that you and him copulate and in return, create the babies inside you. the last time you went into his room fully—cause you never went inside his room even though you visited often either beomgyu or jeongin’s invitations—was the night you and him fucked. you didn’t recognize the amount of basketball paraphernalia that is sticking to his walls last time as you finally view it, a poster of what looks like alternative rock bands cause you recognized the paramore, the arctic monkeys, and even the american football posters.

heeseung’s figure reaches his desk and he sits on the chair by it, caressing his face with his hands as you can see the way his facial muscles contort around his eyebrows and forehead.

“what are we talking about?” you lightly scoffed as you stood in front of heeseung, who lifted his head with a tenacious look on his face.

“where were you in the past three weeks?” you can pick up how he spoke with his teeth grinding against each other.

“why’d you care? you’ve seen me all the time. heck, i saw you last week when i came to visit beomgyu-“

“NO!” he stood up after you jumped from his sudden, unprovoked shout. taking a few steps, you are frozen on your feet as he approaches.

“you really don’t fucking care, huh?” heeseung now lets out a huge scoff as he rolls his eyes, very obviously. instead, he was met by another confused and offended look by you. "what does he mean by i don’t fucking care?” you spoke to yourself as he then reply, adding a needed context.

“the fucking appointments, (l/n)(y/n).” his nostrils are so wide that he might as well breathe fire out, making you stunned as your defenses are crumbling down when you realized what he is going to talk about.

you recall the past three weeks, jogging your mind through the endless activities you’ve done such as going out with the girls, going out with ryujin, beomgyu, and jeongin, busying yourself as your interviewing yoonah and the other coworkers for your study case, helping sungchan recover from his hangover as he stayed a night at your apartment—his frat house is overwhelmingly full so that he went back along with minjeong so they could fuck all night, helping ryujin styled for her photoshoot, helping chaeryeong bring the food to her dance crew so they could eat, meeting jimin whilst there, remembering the dance crew show-

the dance crew show you watched with your friends.

trying to comb the calendar in your mind, you’ve just realized that you missed that appointment that day. and then another one last week, the week when beomgyu introduced you to his bandmates as you visited their studio.

“oh fuck…”

“oh fuck, indeed.” heeseung sarcastically mimics you. you tried to hold your head up, but with the way the guilt for not showing up to your doula’s appointment, you could see the slight smirk that was threatening to grow on heeseung’s lips. but he seemed to hold it back as he let out a sigh, a shaky one.

“i’ve been trying, trying to be kind towards you. to give you the fucking benefit of the doubt with what you told me at the basketball court and i believe it. i believed it yet you don’t think about anything after that.” his hand reaches to be placed on his chest as you hold yourself still, fist pushing down to make you stand tall.

“you don’t think i don’t sacrifice as much as you do for them? i sacrifice my time and my friends' time to cater to you who is growing my babies inside you. yet you started to not think about them when you seemed to get everything on your way.” the man says as you can see the way he is grinding his teeth down, yet it still sounds so clear as you get your mind to think straight. heeseung is shaking his head as he can’t hold back the smirk that is slowly growing.

“you don’t think that i don’t realize your crush on beomgyu, don’t you? with the way you’ve been pining over him ever since he brought you to the doula’s office. even if i still harbor unsavory feelings towards you, i’ll allow it cause it’s fucking natural when you interact with him as much. but to then see you slut yourself out to my friends-“

“WOW! OKAY!” you take a step back as the spreading shock of what he told you were triggering the same ever-fiery feelings you also have inside. “that’s a fucking low blow, lee.”

“what other word should i say it with? you’re having my babies, yet here you are being touchy with my friends and forgetting your freaking responsibilities-“

“but slutting myself is such a fucking wrong word to use. that’s too fucking much.” you retaliate back, crossing your arms in front of your stomach as you feel the instinct kicking to protect them. “other than me carrying your babies, you don’t fucking own me, lee heeseung. i can establish whatever relationships that i want and you’re just making yourself look like a jealous boy who can’t seem to make his, fucking, whatever, partner be happy yet the people around you can.”

it is now heeseung’s turn who is stunned, yet his scrunch face still telling him that, even though the word he uses is such an overkill, he is still telling the truth. the truth that seemed to make you fired up to do the offense on him.

“heck, i could’ve terminated them if i didn’t consider you-“

“don’t you fucking dare say that, 'cause,” he says as you looked at him exhaling, the tears of anger brimming in your eyes as you let your mind analyze what you say and how messed up it is. “don’t you see? you thought you were the losing one here? no, (y/n).”

he lets his muscles relax, yet you can recognize just how glassy his eyes are also, mirroring yours. “you have much more powerful control over this relationship than me. you have the fucking right to do whatever you want with yourself. but what’s in it for me? i gave you my savings and we are paying for the appointment together and you become so ungrateful as time goes by not going to them. like i’m just a wallet to you.”

heeseung’s hand reaches towards his cheekbone, his fingers grazes near the corner of his eyes as you watch the whites becoming pink—holding the emotions that he wants to let out but knowing that his friends could be collateral damage to it too now that they have a good relationship with you and your friends.

“i don’t even know what will happen after you give birth to them? are you still going to ignore me and raise them on your own when i have sacrificed even my savings money to pay for this stuff we have to do?”

your throat is dry as you listen to heeseung’s little sobs and sniffles, sensing the way your heart has dropped until it reaches the depths of your being. to then being told the truth that, yes, you are selfish for getting everything you have at the expense of heeseung, who you just now realized is retreating. how the glances at you when you’re with beomgyu, jeongin, or jimin give an annoyed but also a tinge of sadness in them. you now realize that even with heeseung being their roommate, he might not have much time with them anymore because of his basketball practices and with the way you and your friends are hoarding them from him.

“i-“ heeseung’s eyebrows raise as he hears you speak, “i gotta go.” you shake your head, not wanting to openly bawl in front of heeseung as you quickly exit the suffocating space.

the way his voice is calling your name echoes and makes you move faster as you slide your feet inside your shoes before opening the door and quickly and uncomfortably running toward the elevator. pressing the button as fast as possible as the elevator dings, pushing the close button as fast as you can as if you can pick up heeseung’s approaching footsteps.

the elevator door closes as it will bring you to the lobby. you lean back against the wall as you feel the uncomfortable folded-back part of the shoes you wear. damn you for deciding to wear a high-ankle one. you knew it would be hard to fold your leg to just slip the back to cover your heels. but the only thing you could resort to is to sit down on the elevator floor to put them on. quick!

you curse to yourself when your belly is the thing that makes it hard for you to slip it on. you still eye the ever-decreasing number of floors as you are reminded to try sitting with your knees so you can reach the back more easily. your body is doing acrobats more than the exercises haseul has told you to do, but when you feel the flaps now resting behind your feet, you can just stand up and go your merry way-

the elevator door opens when you hear the familiar exclamation of your name before buff arms are helping to make you stand up on your feet.

“did you fall?” jimin is looking at you with worry, leaving his bag outside as you can predict he has finished his class for today. but, with the way that heeseung told you of his friends, the guilt boils up to burn you once again.

“ji-jimin, i gotta go fast. so sorry,” you replied as you pushed yourself out of jimin’s grasp. sure, you could talk to him on what his opinion of you and what heeseung thinks of you. but, you aren’t as close to him as you are with beomgyu.

and that’s where you are bringing yourself.

remembering the band practice he had talked to you about through chat, you walked into the familiar studio area of the campus where he usually is. the hallway inside was getting darker as you entered, the evening time reminding the students to rest for the day as you watched many of them going towards where you came from. the hallway by the door of the studio is dark with only the light and sound of a guitar coming from behind the door’s window. taking a glimpse, you can see beomgyu who is riffing on one of txt’s songs. his long hair shielded his face enough to cause your heart to beat faster than before. well, before remembering what heeseung has told to you. yet, here you are, trying—in a way—to validate that the reason you’ve neglected your appointment is for a good cause for yourself.

beomgyu’s head is lifted as he hears the knocking, looking at the window as his smile widens to see you. you want to reply with the same—you always have been able to—but the underlying emotions you’re experiencing stop you as you try to give the widest smile you can at that moment. the handle turns as you push inside, sensing the warmth of the studio competing against the breeze of the cold weather.

“why are you here?” beomgyu said, his guitar dangling in front of him by the strap.

“so, i can’t be here?” you try to banter, a frown on your face that you usually share with him now has a different reaction as he pulls off the guitar and places it on the speaker before approaching you.

“no, no. of course you can be here,” he replied, the giddiness fell out of him as you noticed why he did that: the swollen eyes that you probably got from tearing up on the way here. remembering your wrongdoings that hurts more than what you and heeseung have gotten through in ages.

as beomgyu leaned closer, he opened his embrace to you, letting you in his arms as you felt the warmth enveloping you, trying to brush away every cold patch that touched your body. yet, it couldn’t touch your heart as much as you want. you wanted to bawl. maybe beomgyu can allow you to bawl into his shoulders. but with what you are doing next, the probability of that will be split.

you were the first one to lean back, hands holding onto his shoulder as he gaped at you with a curious smile before it slowly droops down as you gaze between his eyes and lips. leaning forward, you lean your head and let your lips meet his. the grip on his shoulders was strong as you tried not to tremble. finally. finally, giving in to what you wanted for a long time now.

you could feel the familiar tingling feeling warming your heart as beomgyu just… stands there. for you, that’s enough because at least you told him what you feel based on your actions. but the pausing was too much for your liking, and you can perceive the warmth in your heart getting hotter, too hot, that is giving you searing pain once again.

leaning back, you can see the blank face that is showing on beomgyu’s face. with a heavy heart, you still try to give an optimistic smile that isn’t reciprocated with what you expect. instead, beomgyu is shrugging, a normal expression on his face and you can sense the tears once again forming.

“please,” you whispered, “please tell me you feel the same way as i do for the past few months.” you silently cry.

the boy in question, beomgyu, gives a solemn smile instead. “i’m so, so, sorry (y/n). but i don’t feel the same way.” he is shaking to signal to himself that yes, he doesn’t reciprocate.

however, this is making you question everything.

“then why are you so nice to me? why are you always asking about me or my friends? why are you always joining us?”

“i do like you, (y/n). but, i can’t like you like that-“

“why?” the sound of everything seems to pause as you see beomgyu glances away at something before an unknown yet warm smile that exudes from him startles you.

“first, you’re pregnant with my best friend’s baby- sorry, babies. plural,” he corrects himself, “and second, the night that you and heeseung hooked up. ryujin and i also hooked up-“

“wait WHAT?” your heart is already hurting from the denial because you are heeseung’s baby mama. but the thing about ryujin shocks you.

“so yeah. we both hooked up at your apartment and i got more hooked. i was already hooked when we all were in high school and,”

you couldn’t continue hearing him ramble about ryujin just like how you ramble to the same girl about beomgyu since freaking high school. gosh, that fucking hurts. to know that your crush has a crush on your best friend really hurts. your crush who is best friends with your rival. you want to get a grip on your high school self so she could find out about it because you were too lovesick about beomgyu but despised heeseung as best as you can to not see that. now it just depends on ryujin, but you don’t want to pressure her like that. she’s discovering her queerness and you love her for that and you don’t want a boy to get in between you.

but between you and the boy… well…

you actually let out such an unserious laugh as you realized how totally bamboozled you have been for the past few months. it is helping you spread the pain so that it doesn’t hurt your heart and brain so much.

“you’re using me, ME, so that you can get closer to ryujin,” you sounded with exasperation as while you laughed, you could feel the tears free-falling on your cheek. “to use the attempt to bring boxes of ingredients, picking me up, just to have a glimpse of ryujin once in a while.”

with the quick succession of changes in your emotions, beomgyu just realized what eldritch horror he is summoning: a girl with a broken heart.

“you must be so fucking happy when i say yes to going out with you. a hook, line, and fucking sinker as you get the fish that will lead you to ryujin. yet you’re fucking stringing me along all this fucking time.” you got reminded of the group streams yours and beomgyu’s gang done twice now, to finally noticing just how touchy beomgyu is with ryujin—wrapping his arm behind where she sits—that when you lean against him, you didn’t realize that he was leaning against her too.

“fuck you, choi beomgyu!” you exclaimed as you retreated, tucking the front of your coat to cover your belly once again as the feelings hit you one by one, rushing out of the studio as you run. your tears clouding your sight as you don’t care where you are going. rushing past people as you are met with the pink evening sky as the sun is setting.

you stood by a sidewalk, the tears falling out as you sobbed into the space in front of you. looking downwards, you can see the babies you are holding. you just want to be alone now to wallow in your sadness that is kicking harder because of the hormone you must have to grow them inside them, holding them so you know they are there with you. it really is just you and them against the world.

and they agree with the thought of you buying fried chicken because you can feel them kicking against your touch.

it actually worries ryujin that you didn’t go out of your room for anything other than work, exams, or appointments.

her eyes gaze at the door to your room that has been haunting her mind for the past two weeks. a systematic cycle was built as, even with chaeryeong’s persuasions as your mood maker, you won’t go out of your room to even eat.

it started on the day when she and the rest of the girls were worried when you weren't home by midnight. ryujin believed they blow your phone up so bad that it makes you more reluctant to go home, but she remembered she got your phone saved on her find my phone app and they decided to track you using it. their discovery leads them to find you sleeping in a booth of a chicken fast-food restaurant as the leftover bones are left behind. the restaurant is nearly empty with only the employees who work the graveyard shift remaining there to cater to the night people. ryujin doesn’t mind carrying you into the backseat of chaeryeong’s car, but she can definitely feel the heat that is growing on your forehead as the car skidded home.

she heard you grumble as they helped to place you on your bed, making you lay down as they helped you change your clothes. minjeong comes in and brings a wet towel to be put on your forehead before chaeryeong gives you a bowl of cream soup that she hopes you will eat when you are awake. ryujin couldn’t get mad to see you like this—she recognized the dried tear marks fallen from the corner of your eyes. but, the way it spilled into your everyday life for the next two weeks is something she couldn’t comprehend. because you have never been this depressed before.

every time she hears the clicking of your door, she lets out a smile and a warm greeting to then meet you who gives her a small smile yet with no spoken reply as you carry your backpack to wherever you want to go that day. minjeong tried to come along with you, but with a stretch of a hand forward and an open palm; still showing the same small smile, you mouthed a no to her as you went out of the apartment.

because heeseung was busy in doing his exams, beomgyu is still coming by to give the box of ingredients for the week. but ryujin sees that something is bothering him as much as it bothers her. he replies with the same smile and greeting to her—maybe a bit more forward than what she used to—but it feels different when she is used to hearing your greetings towards him as you stood beside her to pick the box up.

this week, it wasn’t even beomgyu who is at her front door.

heeseung stood at the door with the box as he took a glimpse in as best as he could, asking for your whereabouts and why you didn’t answer his texts. ryujin wants to tell him the truth—that you’ve begun your hermit arc as you stay in your room. but she knows how sophisticated your relationship is with him that she can’t bear to let out the truth, saying that you’re outside at that time. but then heeseung told her something.

“help me reach her. she’s been rescheduling all the appointments with both the doctor and doula without me knowing and canceling the ones that we have scheduled together.”

“the receptionist doesn’t tell you anything?” she asked.

“patient confidentiality. and haseul is also by her side cause she won’t tell me when is (y/n)’s appointment.”

ryujin thinks that, if you are not with a child right now, you might not even open the door to get your meal in and you might never even go out other than for your work and exam. it seems that you are preparing yourself to be the vessel for your babies so you can give birth to them healthily, eating and drinking for them, but not for you.

she knows just how sad you are by the way you are wailing with the sound of your guitar muffled in your room. she listens to your rendition of mitski songs from behind the walls that are still small enough to not annoy the neighbors on all sides. with the exam season nearly done as you are there to finish up your research project, it makes you not go out of your room at all unless it’s for the bathroom. nobody is ever asked to pick you up for appointments or work at the daycare because you will then arrive and go back to your room all by yourself.

it’s sad to see you like this. so ryujin hopes what minjeong is doing could help you.

the guitar wailing is still heard as chaeryeong and minjeong walk from the kitchen with the buckets of popcorn, a homemade burger just for you, and juices around them as they still promise to follow your diet—though not as strict as you. minjeong walks towards your room as chaeryeong reads the synopsis of the cd cover of tonight’s movie.

“hiya, (y/n). i know we have been so busy for the past two months or so,” ryujin listens to minjeong words after her knocking on your door killing the sound of the guitar from your room. “we’re having a movie night and it’s one of the japanese movies in your watchlist. you are very much welcome to watch with us.”

there’s a long, pregnant pause as minjeong says the last words, turning her head towards ryujin who gives her a tight-lip smile as she looks at the hallway from the end of the sofa. minjeong lets out her own small smile as she turns her head towards the living area to grab the cd from the table and crouches down to put it onto the player. ryujin glances at chaeryeong who gives her own solemn smile, whispering, “just by the look of the cover, i know we will be crying.”

just then, they heard the sound of a door opening. all of their eyes turn towards the entrance of the hallway to see you emerging. no words are spoken because all of them still want to give you space as you’re the one now reaching out to connect to them after their trials and tribulations.

chaeryeong pats the seat between herself and ryujin as you let out a chuckle, letting them see just how big your belly is getting for carrying your still ever-growing babies. ryujin gives you the burger plate as you give a warm yet solemn smile, making chaeryeong lean close to you as minjeong turns off the lights and lets chaeryeong press play.

the movie starts with a scene on a train. a green filter filled the screen as only the white noise from the moving train filled the room. a young girl and young boy sit across from each other, a large suitcase in between them. and the boy whose clothes are similar to the suitcase—tattered—clutches onto it so gently.

to say that the movie is profound is an understatement. it is filled with wholesome scenes of children—siblings—playing with each other. that is, before the realization hits all of you as they had to fend for themselves to live. but it definitely hits you hard as you lean against ryujin’s shoulder, her hands in fist because of how furious she is while watching everything is going badly for the children. while you, you are actually sobbing. maybe because you have a profound relationship with children, and are a future mom yourself, your emotions exploded as you felt the despair, happiness, and rage all throughout.

it definitely is cathartic to you because you have been burying your feelings back. to see the children being abandoned is hurting you because you have seen children like them firsthand when you are volunteering in your second year. you definitely are mad at yourself for putting nobody knows in your watchlist, but you can now say that you’re grateful for minjeong to remember it because it is definitely the cathartic release you need after burying so many emotions at the same time.

as the credit rolls, you can feel the way your babies are moving inside of you. as if to remind you to at least, please, don’t abandon them.

the waterfall of tears as you sob caught the attention of your friends, who are also in various levels of tearing up in the eyes to full-on bawling with rage. you can only let out a small smile as you hear minjeong sniffle before standing up, making you open your arms to let her into your embrace. you can sense actual warmth for the first time in a while as it shields you from the cold, literally and figuratively. more arms come to wrap around you as you felt both ryujin and chaeryeong’s faces beside your ears. to know that they understand it hits you more because you are with a child.

maybe, there is still warmth in life than what you expected. after contemplating so much about the actions that you’ve done—ranging from the earliest memories of when you and heeseung were young to the way beomgyu broke your cracked heart into pieces when you confessed—you realized that you are selfish. that you haven’t got the ability to step back and take in everything and to find your priorities, because now with babies growing inside of you, your priorities are changing as you start to love them more and more.

the pettiness that you and heeseung have for each other really shielded you from what heeseung truly is: a good man. a man who cares for others. a man who is willing to trust you, even with the amount of history you both have. how he also has his own priorities and needs, but he decided to give them to you—well, your babies. sure, he’s not perfect. his anger making him say something that is so out of line in your relationship. but you understand where he is coming from. you understand the amount of jealousy seeping through when the doula gives you instruction yet he is just there, doing nothing other than being reminded to always have a good communication line with you.

maybe, it is the time for change. because if you can allow yourself to have his children, you should also allow yourself to let him into your life.

so that your children will not be abandoned by both of their parents.

to learn that his mom is so excited is an understatement. to know that both his and your moms have been planning for your joint gender reveal and baby shower—because of your busy schedules—is like seeing them being kids once again.

heeseung looks to the backyard of his house, the venue of the event, which is filled with more neutral earthy color from the theme that they asked you about. he didn’t chime in because he is busy—but he also wants to at least forget the way genuine hurt show up on his face when he called you a slut. to then lose contact with you for the past month as he is frustrated. yet again, you were the one blocking him from the information he has the right to know. and with the way you try to avoid him as much as possible on campus, you are now entering your third trimester, the end of the year is near, and both of your families believe that you both are together, all of those complexities are swirling in his head as he has to try his best to face one by one.

“heeseung!” he heard his dad speak loudly from outside the room, “the guests are here, come greet them. it’s your party to host.”

“coming.” he took one last look at his outfit, a simple creme-colored shirt tucked into his black jeans, as he walked outside of the door towards the living area and the backyard when he caught the appearance of the table with shiny bracelets and flower-charmed bracelets: a jewel for a boy and a flower for a girl. he could see that some of his boys were there, picking between two types of bracelets so they could guess what are the genders of both of his babies.

“come on! the idea of heeseung hyung having two boys will be scary.” jake says towards jay who picked up gold and silver bracelets, respectively.

“but it’s plausible…”

“so is hyung having two girls, right?” jake replied as heeseung looked down to find the different color flower-charmed bracelets in his hand. the other guys are also talking to each other as sunoo was the one who approached him first.

“hey, heeseung hyung. how are you feeling?” the kind boy asked as he could feel his emotion lighten up when seeing the younger boy’s eye smile.

“oh… you know, a bit nervous actually.” heeseung chuckled as he looked at the boy’s wrist, seeing both kinds of bracelets on each of his hands.

“i’m team ‘heeseung hyung is boy-girl dad’ and the guys don’t believe me actually.” sunoo replied, seeing sunghoon turning to him and saying, “that’s cause it’s rarer, sunoo-yah.”

“i know,” said boy replied as heeseung chuckled, looking towards another table that is full of gifts often found in baby showers. since nobody knew of the genders of his babies, he saw all different types of clothing of all colors there, a few baby diapers, and essentials that would be helpful to stock at home. most of them are gender neutral but he sees a few of specific gender ones he has to think to give away if his pair of kids will be only gender specifically–or he could hold on to it so that he can make them dress neutrally.

“we didn’t give much other than two sets of baby clothing. broke college students, after all.” sunoo speaks as if to explain the situation he recognized so much.

“that’s definitely enough, sun.” heeseung chuckled as he patted sunoo’s shoulder. that’s when he heard the commotion from inside the living area from behind the glass doors, the room where his mom is with his extended family and a few mutual friends of his. he looked through it to watch a crowd coming inside; what looked to be your side of the people—your friends from college like yunjin and kazuha, your roommates of course plus sungchan who is bringing eunseok too, to what it seemed like your extended family before he sees you coming in: taking his breath away.

you are bigger than the last time he saw you. you are also wearing a color similar to his, but in a midi dress style, and he sees his mom hugging you before holding onto your belly. he let his eyes watch you comfortably as you looked around the familiar and unfamiliar faces before you connected your own sight with his.

heeseung thought you had almost forgotten the fake dating aspect of this whole fiasco you are in with him. but when you open the sliding door and in a one-way direction towards him, he lets himself being embraced by you as his hands automatically move to wrap around you. he couldn’t lean in closer because of your pronounced baby bump, but you moved back a little to look at him. a smile on your face as he sees you seemed to be more at ease, maybe because of your classes being finished and such, but you are on a completely different side of the spectrum because he is here, still struggling to juggle all the things.

“you okay?” you are the one that asked as you gaze at heeseung’s unreadable expression, making you chuckle as you can’t help the influence you have on him, but also the influence he has on you as you could pick up your heart beating faster.

“yeah…” he replied, making you lean in.

“follow my lead 'cause your mom literally introduced me as your girlfriend. unless you get a grip to know what it implies, hee,” you whispered as his eyes changed, his hand now traced down to your lower back as he stayed by your side.

acting with himself is something so easy for him. after all, he has to act while in front of your parents when he is facing you, which he has done since he knows how. but, now, acting with you seems so natural. too natural, actually. how you’re bringing him around as he introduced yourself to your aunt and your now first-grader cousin—"that’s the kid that i babysit for the first time" you added—and the way you acted like nothing happened for the past month stuns him so much.

the way your facial expression moves along as you and his friends seem to be low-key teasing both of you—he caught a glimpse of jimin recording him being dragged by you past the crowd on video—just seemed so much more than acting. but you are acting, correct?

well, that was when you caught onto beomgyu’s gaze that he could see your expression chipping away; when you returned him with only a small smile before pivoting towards heeseung as he could see your nose crunching while smiling. with that, lee heeseung actually kind of regrets by telling that to you. he kind of regrets that he hurt you.

the festivity was very modest to say the least, especially since both of your parents are the ones paying cause they’re just too happy to have grandchildren with each other. the pile of baby items is stacking up as more people are picking their guesses. all the party needs is the arrival of your coworker and it’s done.

when said coworker arrives with what looks to be a bag of crowns: a pair of faux gold crowns and a pair of flower crowns. he looks towards you who is smiling before biting your lips as you approach her and give her a hug, bringing her to him.

“this is yoonah from the daycare, well technically, she’s my boss,” you spoke, introducing the woman who is older by a few years.

“and this is heeseung, the baby daddy.” yoonah pulls out her hand as heeseung shakes it, pain surging through his hand as the grip on it is so hard.

“listen to me, heeseung. if you ever hurt her again, i swear to any kind of god out there that i will hurt you first.” yoonah said with gritted teeth and menacing eyes before pulling back, making heeseung’s doe-like eyes turns towards you who was giving him a shrug as you tell your mom on the main event.

“gather around, friends and family. the main event is going to start!” she said so giddily as his mom brought both of you to the other side of the backyard, facing towards the house where the people you invited were in front of both of you.

“thank you so much for everyone for coming to the baby shower/gender reveal combo for (y/n) and heeseung’s babies.” yoonah hosted with both poise and excitement in her voice—no wonder that she also works in a daycare. “i have here two pairs of crowns that will show the genders of both babies, which i know since (y/n) asked me to be with her for her latest appointment. i will put the corresponding crown on the two parents’ heads.”

heeseung can see the crowd gleaming at the thought of seeing both you and heeseung wearing the corresponding crowns according to their guesses. he glances at his boys who are sporting all the flower-charmed bracelets; except for jeongin, who has one silver bracelet and one flower bracelet on his wrist. and then to your girls who are sporting mostly both kinds of bracelets except for ryujin who wears two gold bracelets.

“(y/n), heeseung, please close your eyes and take a bow,” yoonah said as he turned to you, who gave him a subtle nod. your hand reaches to grab his as you both face forward and he closes his eyes before bowing his head forward.

all he could feel was the way the cold breeze blew against his skin and how his grip on yours tightened as he could feel something on his head, making the sound of the crowd growing before the grass ruffles in front of him to where you at as the crowd lets out a huge ovation. he can hear his friends’ laughter when he picks up yoonah saying, “you both can open your eyes.”

lifting his eyelids, he lets the shiny view come in as he turns towards you, seeing the shock on your face as he gazes at you wearing a golden crown. he grabs onto his own crown as he touches the petals of flowers on it, picking yours up also to show you what’s on your head. you can’t help but step towards him, taking in a big embrace that heeseung reciprocates as he sees both crowns on his hands behind you.

a boy and a girl.

heeseung was actually speechless when he retreated, letting you take the flower crown before placing it on his head, scrapping around his hair so that it looks better as he lets the gold crown glide on top of your hair where he puts it.

he could see the way his friends crumble and glee in excitement because of the revelation. sunoo’s cackling comes from the basketball guys and it combines with jeongin’s who is also recorded jimin and beomgyu, jokingly weeping because they’re wrong. your friends are also teasing ryujin for picking the wrong combination as heeseung rests his hand on your back.

“ok, sorry, one last thing everyone.” your mom interrupts the total chaos of emotions being spilled before turning towards you two. “i know that we have the gender reveal and baby shower together and we have so many outfits and items that will be useful for you to raise both of your babies. but you might be asking ‘where are we going to put this?’ well…”

your mom opens her arm so that his mom comes into her hold. the grin that they are trying to say signals that they're now fully loaded for something.

“we don’t want you two lovebirds being apart while raising babies. well… let’s just say that your parents and (y/n)’s parents have paid the down payment on a new apartment…”

heeseung actually reacted the same way as you, jaw dropped, eyebrows scrunched as you and he turned your heads at the same to face each other. you mouthed a ‘what the fuck’ towards him as he shakes his head, saying to you he also don’t know shit about this.

you and he are going to live together.

he could actually read your face this time, the face that he has already recognized for a long time—the face of when you want to refute. but, with the way your eyes seemed to crease as the rest of the bafflement poured out, you realize you couldn’t refute back to them unlike how you do to him. your eyes, though with the same sparkle in them as he sees you throughout the day, seemed to tell a different story. a story that he also seems to recognize.

that’s what he thinks as he says the goodbyes to the guests departing, leaving only your family, his roommates, and your roommates behind as they all gather to help clean up the props and bring the stuff inside. heeseung carried the last of the two baby carry-ons for the car inside the house as it is stacked by the garage door so he could pack them up and carry them to your new shared apartment.

“i swear, gang. i don’t know shit about, fuck, this,” he says as he walks back and forth to the two groups sitting in his proximity.

“also, ‘lovebirds’? the last time i met you, i don’t think (y/n) is dating you.” ryujin called back to what his mom said. but she still understood it was the message you and he sent when you were walking around together to greet the guests.

“well, we imply to them we are together to let them know of our situation so that’s where that actually came from…” heeseung replied when he caught beomgyu who was looking at ryujin’s curious and furious combo face as he could feel the awkwardness of the moment is. since the last time you left his room, he never hangs with your roommates anymore, nor did they come to his apartment to play. sure, he has met all three of them as he became the one to give the box full of ingredients, but the situation is so awkward that after he asks for your well-being and is given the answer, he instantly speed walks to the elevator because it triggers him so much.

he really realized just how interconnected you are to everybody. he can see with the way beomgyu arrived home on the same day you left from him—whom you presumably talked to—and discover how his usually giddy face now has a small stain of sadness in it before going back to ignorance. how jimin never heard of chaeryeong again as she is working with her main crew on a routine whilst jimin is focusing on creating a choreography. all because he wants you to explain from your side.

to heeseung, he had let the things that created a plaque in his heart alone by themselves: seeing you being too selfish of your own self that you couldn’t find any priorities for even your babies and how he said it to you seemed to besmirch him more. yet, he also takes to the heart what you say on the basketball court: that he is miles ahead in front of you and how tired it is staying in the rivalry. that there is a side of him capable of competing, yet he pours it into your petty rivalry. he has already implemented the side of him you were talking about on his day-to-day after it, mostly during basketball, as he seemed to be some sort of assistant coach to coach min as he helped with training the junior players. he sure hopes that you get what he meant on why he asked for you two to talk after every factor created changed him in a way.

because he cares for you.

“the boys are staying with me,” beomgyu said as he stood up along with the others while the girls also stood up, presumably to stay the night with ryujin because she is also from here—alongside heeseung, beomgyu, and you. heeseung brought them out of the front door as they went their separate ways, closing the door as he walked deeper into the house.

he heard the sound of the sink running when he found his mom cleaning the utensils. your mom is packing up the leftovers as the sound brings him towards the kitchen.

“hey, bambi.” his mom greets him as heeseung lets out a small smile. your mom opening her arm so he could come into the conversation that is now being talked about.

“i sure do hope that you and (y/n) like the apartment we picked. it’s a two-bedroom one, but it is big enough because i know you have your exercise equipment and that gaming pc of yours that you will have to reassemble,” his mom said from behind him as he stared at the leftover food on top of the kitchen island, standing beside your mom.

“that’s more than enough, mom. thank you.”

“you gotta have to say thank you to auntie as well. she helped to pick the location so that it is pretty close to your campus and your friends.” his mom told him as he took a peek to see your mom, catching onto the similarities both of you have.

“we have the rent up for a year so we can give you freedom if you wanna move away from it after it is done.” your mom continued to talk as heeseung nodded. his head turned downwards as he tried to pick out the right words to say. instead, he literally blurted out something that came out first from his mind.

“(y/n) and i don’t get along with each other.”

he stares at the two women who turn their heads to face each other. both of them sharing a look before your mom replied, “we know.”

“well… both of you used to get in trouble with each other a lot at school that it makes us realize that you both don’t get along with each other.” his mom added, making heeseung’s face return to the shocked face as he can’t help but laughs. why would he and you hide it if they already know? oh, young minds…

“i, i, okay…” his stammers died down as he couldn’t help but bite his lips, “then why i do seem to care for her so much?”

he’s able to hear his mom chuckle as she turns the water tap off before standing on the other side of his figure, seeing how he is taller than both moms who are looking at him so expectantly.

“the line between love and hate is so thin it’s actually near existence.” his mom said first, “and don’t worry about that, the rivalry doesn’t actually start with you.”

“what?” he retorted as he watched the two women communicating through a glance shared between them.

“your mom and i are actually rivals in our school basketball athlete days.” your mom said, “we used to trash talk so much at each other that our teacher had the smart plan for us to do something for detention together.”

“cleaning out that forsaken storage filing room.” his mom cuts in as she helps to collect the leftovers and grab the plates they were on so she could wash them.

“arranging them up and all. good thing during your time now you have online databases because, i swear, those teachers just blatantly putting the documents down so that they can make a student clean it up somehow as punishment.” your mom adds as his mom just laughs about it, thinking of said memory as heeseung could picture a large dim room full of shelves with stacks of papers on them—not arranged into a certain manner at all.

“but it works. after that, we became closer and we don’t see each other as rivals, but as equals.” the tap is turned off as his mom’s words go back to his ears, “and we become the best friends you now see us as.”

heeseung can’t hold back his laugh as he imagines his mom being in the same position as he is during school—cursing your mom’s ears off or even tugging the ball from each other to show who is the better player. but to know that they resolute it so fast makes him feel shame for actually allowing such rivalry to grow for more than a decade. it’s because you and him don’t see eye to eye, but sometimes you do. it’s because of the ambition you both have to also be like your parents. but growing up changed that. there are many ways to resolve such rivalry, yet he chooses the having-a-baby-together-route; the extreme challenge mode out of all.

“since you stayed at our house, (y/n) is now staying in your room for the night, heeseung.” your mom said as she gathered the leftovers, which were divided into two for each household. “also the apartment already has a bed complete with the frame and mattress and a wardrobe big enough for both of you. so you can move in if you want by tomorrow as you gather your items from your rooms at each of your apartments.”

“alright, thanks for telling me,” he said before your mom jumped with realization one last time, picking up the white envelope that he remembered yoonah brought.

“this is from the last doctor’s appointment (y/n) went to with yoonah. she knows you will ask her for your own copies.”

the word “third trimester” is spelled out on the front as heeseung pulls out the content. a few ultrasound pictures grace his vision as he gazes at the visual of his babies inside of you, the word markings at the top now assigned them as baby a and baby b grazing his touch as he sees one of them each in their own scan and both of them together by their heads. he felt someone standing behind him and a finger pointing something out in one picture of the individual baby.

“you can see baby a has a nub protruding. that’s the penis, so he’s the boy.” his mom has spoken, making him let out a small “wow” before seeing that baby b has no nub. she’s the girl.

“well, all the leftovers are split up, so i think we’re going to get going. we don’t want the husbands to smoke one more stick of cigarette.” your mom says as his mom laughs in reply.

heeseung adds after tucking the pictures in the envelop, “i also want to go to bed.”

“you absolutely should. you have to pack the baby shower gifts and bring it to your new apartment in the morning. or let it stay in your trunk until you move it in. you’ve done so well as a host,” his mom responded as he nodded, saying his last “good night” before retiring to his room.

his nightlight on the bedside table is on when he gently opens the door, he looks at the silhouette of you lying down on your side facing away from him. a duffle bag stands in front of his wardrobe which he presumes is filled with your clothes as he can identify you wearing a headset while the light of your phone shines your face. for him, it’s the correct time to freshen up as he had to come to terms that you will stay in the same bed as him—because he couldn’t bear himself to push you off his bed especially with you being in the third trimester, where he has learned from haseul is when your back pain is at its worst.

drying the droplets of water and tucking his sleeping outfit on, he walks back into the dim room to find your headset and phone on the bedside table. you have moved to sleep with your left side up; the only space for him is on the right of the bed beside his desk. though the weather outside is cold, the heater is still on as the heat exudes out to balance the temperature. he walks towards the empty bedside when he can’t help to make out the sound that is so much more noticeable in the quiet air’s white noise.

the sound of sobbing.

heeseung sits down on the bed, his back facing you while he looks one last time at his phone before putting it away when he hears you talk.

“do you know about beomgyu liking ryujin when we talked a month ago?”

his head turns to the side, taking a glimpse behind his shoulder. he can see the fragment of your expression in the darkness, making him want to make his eyes adapt to it faster.

“ever since high school, (y/n).” he acknowledged. of course, he knows. he had seen that lovey-dovey look every time he and beomgyu moved past you and ryujin in the hallway. he still has it—the subtle version of it—when his gang hangs out with yours. to be that naïve wasn’t heeseung’s forte, but he does realize just how naïve you could be.

“and is that why you commented on my crush on him? because you know that i’ll be hurting at the end?”

heeseung let out a small hum as he pushed himself off the floor and looked to the front, extending his legs as he sensed the similar, albeit lighter, pain from walking around and standing up too much as he let his legs stretch out to make him relax and let the blood flow clearly. you chuckled as he helped to pull the comforter on his childhood bed on top of him and your figure. if he could communicate with his younger self that he has you in his room and in his bed, he could see young heeseung strangling him, complaining to his older self about why he allowed that person to even be in his room.

he sees movement from your end when he lets himself lay down on the mattress. your hand brushing against your face as he turns his head towards you.

“well… you won, lee heeseung.”

your words caught his attention as he let his head be on the same level as you, shifting so he could finally see your face clearly with the nightlight still on. you have another pillow wedge between your legs, something he knows can make you feel more comfortable as he had also learned about pregnant woman’s sleeping positions. yet, your face tells him and the world that you aren’t 100% comfortable.

“i went to him, wanting to make what i felt come true because i truly, truly thought that he felt the same way. then bam! another gutter punch to me and that’s a freaking k.o,” you informed him, letting him experience the rest of the day from your view as, at that time, he was wallowing in disappointment and shame for using a wrong word to describe what you are doing with his friends.

“that fucking broke me. and i still remain in that belief even with the catharsis of watching a japanese movie about child abandonment makes me fracture and heal myself at the same time. now, with our parents renting us an apartment…” he could hear the pitch of your voice rising alongside how many words you had spoken. heeseung turned his whole body to face you, making you exhale and inhale, “i think it’s going so fast. too fast, i mean.”

your breathing makes you a bit hyperventilating as you want to turn some other way from him because you can’t bear to see his doe-like eyes staring at you with concern. you try your best to calm down, looking at the slam dunk poster on one of his walls while blinking your eyes to get rid of the glistening eyes. that’s when you sensed a hand on your cheek. heeseung’s hand reached out as you let his fingertip graze near your eyes, wiping away the single tear that came out after enough of them accumulated on the corner of your eye.

“you don’t think i’m not also scared? that my life is also going too fast?” he asked in such a warm tone. “you think that i’m not also broken? with how you and the world had shown me so much knowledge i have to expect to understand quickly, it also broke me. i can see what a positive influence you have over our friendship as a group and with you being idle for the past month, it has affected everyone. it affects beomgyu too, you know?”

you push your lips to one side, feeling your cheeks getting warm as you frown while taking in the words he had meant. that even if you confess just how much you have lost in this eternal battle with him; for the first time, he confesses he is the same.

that you are now equal to him.

“i don’t know. i retreated to being an egotistic antisocial while thinking about all of that. i’m glad you’re not like me then.” heeseung giggles as he overhears you uttering such a depressing sentence. but he continues to caress your face as he tugs himself closer to you, sensing his bent knees touching your own and the pillow that is wedged between the legs. he is the one to lean in first.

the kiss feels all too familiar now, the same as the one you had while conceiving your babies, the same as the one at the basketball court. but months have passed since those two moments, yet it only becomes richer as it goes. your hand lifts to grab his luscious locks and cradle it so you can bring him closer, tilting your head as you feel his breath right against your philtrum. yet, when you let go to take a breather, he leans in closer to connect your foreheads, lips right in front of each other’s—hovering so close that no one could able to steal each other away from the moment.

“you have me, (l/n)(y/n). we can heal together, if you want, of course. or else, i just take care of myself better an-“

you playfully roll your eyes as you meet his lips once again, feeling both of your pairs already knowing the right ways to satisfy both of your needs to sense each other. you nodded your head—hoping he felt it too—even with your lips on his. and he seemed so as he traced his hand down to your side.

“let’s heal together,” you answered, breaking the string of saliva that connected both of you as you grabbed heeseung’s hand on your body to let him touch your bump. sure, you are used to them kicking inside you now. but, heeseung never felt them when you discover them during your hermit days. to see just how the sparkles in his bambi eyes increased when you could feel one of them kicking to your uterus wall so hard, you let out a chuckle as he let you move his hand and press down to sense the movement inside you.

“i have to be angry at you because both of your babies are kickers. it triggers me to vomit just how much they kick me.”

“sorry for that!” he takes responsibility with a grin as you let his hand go, letting him have the free rein to press up against your womb where your babies are in.

“also, you’re going back with me to campus tomorrow. should i just bring you back to your apartment? the parents expect us to set up the place with the baby shower gifts.” heeseung asked as you let his hand roam to press against the bump. at the same time, it was your turn to caress his cheek, feeling how he wanted to stay in your touch when he unconsciously leaned in, but his head seemed to be too heavy to lift from the exhausting day that is today.

moving in with him is going to be hard. other than the knowledge that you learned about him which you can take advantage of, you don’t know who heeseung is as told by himself; only from his friends and parents. but with the more contact you both have with each other during this phase of both of your lives, you can tell that he is decent. you can already figure out how to rearrange the domestic chores you and him have to share. and to learn that the apartment is semi-furnished with the kitchen, bathroom, and main bedroom in place, you could actually go and live with him as fast as possible.

you’ve made up your mind.

“you know what? you don’t have to bring me back to my apartment.”

“hmm?” he questioned, lifting his eyebrows.

“i’ll help you unpack the baby shower gifts at our apartment.”

4. mended broken hearts

“thank you so much!” heeseung spoke with a sense of gladness as he took a last glimpse at the crane beside the balcony, watching it being retreated down to the truck that is part of the moving truck ensemble for his apartment. the officers there were so helpful as they didn’t mind being moved around between three different apartments since the morning. the machinery always fascinated heeseung as it’s not the same when it comes to houses. to use a crane to help move boxes easier at the same time is stunning heeseung; because he didn’t get the same luxury when he moved into the boys’ apartment. that’s when you told him that that kind of service actually exist too.

turning around inside his still blank living room, heeseung scans boxes upon boxes of his and your stuff, some are inside suitcases—which is mostly clothes—and boxes are filled with stationary and other items you both owned. the kitchen where the island counters are and a few sturdy boxes you both haven’t unpacked become your dining area as—other than the bed frame, mattress, and wardrobe both your parents have bought alongside the apartment rent—they want you two to decorate the apartment to your heart's content. that means buying pieces of furniture and assembling them yourselves.

heeseung still remembers how his dad arrived to tell him the different tools in the toolbox that he gave him as they both assembled a few pieces themselves. you stood on the side, sometimes helping with bolting something with a screwdriver in your overall get-up that he seemed to not get enough of. with your shelves done for the living area, you both focused on the babies’ room rather than your own room first. knowing how to assemble things now, you both choose the cribs, changing station, and cabinets for your both of your babies’ needs. viewing the room in the default look without more color is enough because you don’t know if the landlord allowed for any modifications of the apartment. so you both waited for customizations when you decided on a much more permanent residence after you graduated.

but, overall, the way you and him work together in creating a liveable place for yourselves for the next year is something to be proud of. how you and he bounce each other’s thoughts as you think of using the boxes of the new furniture bought to your advantage, making a makeshift cabinet you can put the unnecessary stuff you have while you allow heeseung to buy a desk for his gaming pc setup and some stools in making the kitchen island your permanent dining table. none of you are thinking about buying tvs or sofas, so a few beanbags and a futon is enough with a mini projector that can be useful for projecting the movies or shows you want to watch.

it’s admirable honestly, just with how open you are with each other after having such an emotionally charged seven months along with years upon years of bad blood to see you and heeseung actually working together and not complaining much about it. your friends even tease that maybe bodysnatchers caught both of you and you both are some alien species who don’t know the complex history of the humans they’ve abducted. yet, you both beat the allegations when you still have fits against each other in front of your friends. though in your domestic life, you try to dim it down by doing the relationship exercise haseul has taught you. twice a week, just you and heeseung sitting across from each other on your bed, holding hands, and looking at each other—building that connection.

heeseung placed the aptly label pc box on top of the desk he had assembled yesterday after he and the moving worker helped in organizing which boxes were yours and his. two beanbags are sitting by the front door as he will wait for you to discuss how to rearrange them for both of your liking. the boxes create some sort of half-wall maze he has to navigate to find your shared bedroom, the babies’ room, and the bathroom where some of your dirty laundries are piled he has to remember to bring it to the laundromat. he remembered that you have your own ironing kit so that you don’t have to pay more to iron out the creases of your clothes. he had already talked to the landlord about how to connect to the internet as he has his own router that he just needs to connect. and voila, a living place enough until the next year as you both awaited your graduation and your babies.

the sound of a muffled ringtone rings from another room as he walks towards his bedroom, seeing the tall box from the crib becoming your bedroom table as it rattles against the material. he looked at the screen to see the alarm reminding him of what you told him. picking the phone and some necessary items up, he left the apartment to go to his car in the basement, turning the engine on as he left the building.

the road is empty enough for him to arrive early to the daycare—even earlier than the guardians of the children who are finishing their day so they could pick their kids up. heeseung turns the car off as he stares at the entrance because you’ll probably be far from being done, yet something in his mind tells you to just wait inside rather than be left in the cold in the car; also to save the gas. locking the car with the remote key, he walked towards the daycare as he stared at the trees around that were shedding their leaves in the mid to end of december date it is currently in.

he hears a twinkling jingle when he steps inside the heated lobby area of the receptionist area, seeing it empty as he could observe the walls of the various playrooms that are there; all of them leading towards the outdoor playground that seemed to be closed out because of the snow falling a few days before. heeseung sees the children doing their various activities, some are playing around by drawing and some are playing with dolls and figures while an attendant takes care of each area. that’s when he saw you, sitting cross-legged in another overall outfit as he could see the large bump you’re sporting whilst sitting, reading what is supposed to be a children’s book for your audience of 4 to 6-year-olds—though you also have the experience of taking care of younger when you told him of your babysitting experience.

your eyes gaze between the writing of the book and your audience of children intrigued by what you are saying. your free hands move animately whilst describing what you are reading, making a few kids holding onto their plush or blankets so hard as they imagine what you’ve said. every time he sees you like this, he can’t help but be enamored like you. like you are a goddess of storytelling and your stories capture people’s attention in such the right way that it influences them too. why did he think about that? because he had seen it. he had seen his friends being influenced by it, and he had felt it himself.

your gaze breaks between the two planes of existence towards the window where heeseung is standing behind, making him chuckle as he sees you startled. eventually making some kids turn around to look at him. he can read the changes in your face as you realize the time, looking at the other areas, before pushing your hand as you point to where you at, mouthing,

“you want to come in?”

“right now?” he also expresses as you read his mouth and answer by nodding. he slowly tugged his shoes off and put them beside the shelf where the employee’s slippers were as he pushed the door open after turning the handle. softly—from the little pairs of eyes looking at him—he settles down beside you as some kids are looking at him with differing emotions, some with admiration, some with jealousy, some with timidness; especially because of how much of a giant his own body is compared to them. that is before one boy spoke up,

“miss (y/n), is that your king?” he says, making you puff out laughter as heeseung’s eyes widen before looking at you. with the way the other children seem to realize what the boy implies, he realizes you have told them something before about that.

“i think you’re right, woonhak oppa.” a girl said before she reached her hand out, “queen (y/n) is going to have her babies soon.”

“okay, kids. hyunseo…” you gaze at the kid who is giving you a cute eye smile. you know just how brutal it is for kids to tease you about your relationship; even kids are having a more dramatic love life than you are here. but with heeseung here, after they believe you don’t have your own king or queen, you understand just how confused they’ve become.

glancing toward him, you open your hand and whisper, “the floor is yours.”

he gazes at the kids before letting out his signature charismatic smirk, “well, you are correct, woonhak and hyunseo.” the two names mentioned now have sparkles in their eyes. “i’m queen (y/n)’s king. my name is heeseung.”

“heeddeung?” you listen to hyein trying to pronounce the name, making you chuckle.

“it’s heeseung, hyein. with a sssseu…” you tried to help her pronounce the s sound in heeseung’s name as the kids were now singing the chorus of heeseung’s name, making him giggle.

“you’re so cool, mister.” another boy spoke out as heeseung seemed to be taken aback, doing some theatrics with his expressions before bowing down and saying a “thank you”.

“then, you have been lying to us, miss (y/n)?” rami’s question makes your eyebrows crunch as you don’t know how to word out your complicated relationship in simple words.

“king heeseung has been here the whole time, actually.” you lean forward with your hand covering one side of your mouth so that heeseung can’t see, “but i hide him so that his awesomeness doesn’t compete with mine,” you said yet still with your normal volume, making heeseung snicker before he tried to remove your hand. the children nod their heads as they’ve been in on a little secret of yours.

“both miss (y/n) and mister heeseung are awesome.” you heard a girl said at the back, making you let out a thumbs up before you saw the boy beside her refute her answers; making them bicker about who was more awesome between the two of you. you exhale such a big breath as you shift your head to face him when he sees you with a look of horror—him realizing just how loud children do when bickering with each other. you stretch your arm upwards before slowly scooting yourself towards heeseung and place your head on his shoulder, making you pick up his giggle as he brought his hand behind you to stabilize your gravitational pull because of the weight.

“let’s hope that our babies are not gonna argue like that when they can talk.” heeseung mumbled, making you glance at him.

“arguing like us too, you mean?” you nudged his rib, finally knowing his opinion on the topic you voiced out months before. “i know you’ve felt tired of that like i am.”

heeseung hums before he sees a boy raising his hand toward you two, making you say a "yes" as yujin asked you an unexpected question.

“since queen (y/n) has king heeseung and they have the baby on the way…”

“oh no…” he caught your mumble.

“where does the baby come from between the two of you?”

if heeseung’s horror gaze doesn’t turn into dread, he must be sick or something because you even have a similar look showing on your face before it went away a few seconds later. that’s when you heard your own alarm from your phone ringing; making the kids let out such a chorus of disappointment because they have to go home.

“your family can definitely help you answer that, kids. let’s prepare your belongings so you can go home, okay?”

“okay!” they said in their various voices as heeseung sighed so large, avoiding such a lightning bolt because if you couldn’t answer it, then how could he do that? of course, he doesn’t want to imprint the idea of copulation on them at such a young age. and he is glad as the bell saved him.

heeseung helps to stand you up and you walk towards the lockers for the kids before glancing outside to see the familiar faces of their guardians picking them up. he even helped with a few of them before he felt a tug on his shoulders when crouching down. turning around, he sees the same girl that had pronounced his name wrong giving him a paper. he remembers the girl has a few sheets of paper and crayons when she is there with the crowd, hearing your stories.

“for you, mister heeseung…”

he sees the picture of a simple drawing of three figures: a smaller triangle with a circle and smile and hair, a larger one with the same as the little figure with a crown on her head, and beside it, a stickman with a black rectangle filled and the same circle as a head with face and another crown. the color of their triangles corresponds to the girl’s purple outfit and your own light blue denim.

the girl, you, and himself.

“thank you, uhh…”

“hyein.” she smiled.

“thank you, hyein.” he replied correctly before turning around as he saw her retreating body to you who was holding her purple backpack strap, giving him a knowing look before you focused on hyein as he stared at the drawing in his hand.

after you send the kids to their respective guardians with coats that appear so big on them as they have to traverse the cold weather, you say goodbye to yoonah and your other coworker; seeing her nodding her head at heeseung who is picking you up as she mentioned, “you almost forgot to send me the complete research so i can give it to sohee in marketing.”

“will do it right away,” you said as you tugged your puffer coat, said your goodbye to her, and entered the warmth and comfort of heeseung’s car.

after sending yoonah the file of your final research work that could help with helping in promoting the daycare, you lean back on the seat as you let heeseung’s r&b-based playlist flow through the speakers.

“what are we having for dinner?”

“what are you craving?” he asked before turning to you, who had a smile on your face. he already knows what it is.

“what’s with you and jjampong?”

“gochujang is my craving now and jjampong, being the soup food it is, helps with making my insides warm from this cold weather.” you hummed, thinking just how satisfying to consume jjampong again for the past three days. well, what gives. it is what you are craving.

“yet, you don’t want kimchi jjigae? they’re similar.”

“but jjampong has seafood, heeseung. plus jjigae is too thick and it’ll feel weird on my tongue.”

heeseung could only sigh as he smiled to himself, knowing that he had to call the chinese food delivery when you arrived at the basement of your apartment building.

a shower and the clean empty bowl of chinese foods you and him bought later, you and him are doing your nearly-regular routine of sitting and staring at each other. because it is nighttime, you let your lamp light the room in its own dim brightness as you see it being reflected in heeseung’s eyes.

when you smile, he follows. when he moves his lips a certain way, you follow as best as you can. but you can feel how both of your pulses are syncing up from you both holding your hands. thoughts are running in your mind about him, mostly the ones you have an obvious answer to. but there is one that is stuck that you just remember.

“why?”

“hmm?” he hummed, eyebrows lifted.

“why did beomgyu mention to me that he can’t be with me because of you?”

heeseung tries his best to not break eye contact even if he wants to, having the answer showing up clearly in his head because of the vulnerable stare he is in.

“did you tell him something, seung?”

but he just can’t say it, still holding it back even with the way you stare at him with such glistening eyes. your hormone seizing the wheel as you let go of your hand to wipe it before holding it again. he shakes his hand as you just let out a disappointment tight-lipped smile. but you didn’t expect heeseung to also ask,

“why didn’t you stop me that night?”

your eyebrows are lifted. that night has been a while and the last time you spoke of it is when you mentioned how you are pregnant with his child. sure, why didn’t you stop him? why didn’t you stop yourself? you are also wondering that.

and because of that, you lean forward as your lips meet heeseung’s. the kiss is so light yet loving. and even that, it’s enough to answer the question for your own self. well, it’s now his turn to think…

“why didn’t you stop me just now?” you questioned back.

near the end of the 5-minute-ritual, heeseung finally understands why he didn’t stop himself today and why didn’t he stop himself and you that night.

the end of the year is today and here you are, tucking yourself in one of your flowy maternity dresses as you pull the straps up so you can put your hands through the sleeve and tug the dress so it adjusts to your own liking. your makeup has been sitting on your face for five minutes now as heeseung is preparing himself in the bathroom. you tie the strap of the back of the dress as best as you can when you can feel yourself stretching your back, making you groan at how satisfying the feeling is. the sun has already set outside as you clasp your small black-colored chain necklace at the front before rotating it behind your nape. you glance at how cute you look as you can’t help but take your own photo in the mirror that you brought from your old room that is leaning against the wall corner.

the door of the bedroom opens and you find heeseung in a white shirt and black trousers ensemble, “you ready?”

“i guess, can you check if the ribbon of my dress is straight?”

heeseung steps closer to you as you puff out the sleeve of your dress so that the seam can be placed correctly. a slight tug comes from behind you as you glance at heeseung repairing the ribbon of your dress. after it’s done, he leaves the ribbon as he looks up at you, who is staring at him from the mirror, a sheepish smile on his face as he glances at your phone in your hand.

“you want to take a picture of the occasion?” he asked, gently tucking his head on your shoulder.

“if you want to,” you reply as you catch him nod his head. his hands that are on your back move forward and rest on your large pregnant belly. you took a few pictures of the two of you—something that past you couldn’t see yourself in—as you put it on your instagram story and typed the caption, “night out (+ 2)”.

“you want me to tag you too?” you peek at heeseung, who has moved one of his hands to be in front of your clavicle, seeing the black necklace adorning your skin next to the rolled-up sleeve of his white shirt and the veins protruding on his forearm.

“of course,” he said as you typed in heeseung’s username and pressed send.

“we haven’t updated much of our instagram and i surely know that our old friends will be shocked to see us together.”

heeseung’s muffled laugh comes from behind your head as you follow, wiggling yourself out of his hold as you pick up your bag and strap it on across your body. you glance at the living room that still has boxes left but with the beanbags and projector set for your usual game night set up—courtesy of heeseung’s nintendo switch—as you see his rgb light inside his pc crate lighting the dim living room by the balcony. walking to the fridge, you open its door and pull out a flask of your own lemon-infused carbonated water so you can pretend to at least be drunk for the new year’s night. you feel your coat being hanged on your shoulders by heeseung as you tuck the flask inside your bag; slipping on a pair of ballet-style shoes as you both walk down to the lobby.

“you sure we don’t have to use a car? don’t want to make you too tired…”

“yeah, i’m sure. i gotta have to stretch my body to exercise, hee.”

you were glad that it hasn’t snowed for the past few days as the pavement is all dry and safe for you to walk. the apartment complexes are close enough to each other and you want to use that as an advantage to move your body so that it doesn’t lock and make you too stiff. your fingers are interlocked with heeseung’s as he allows you to guide him through the shortcuts on your way to your old apartment; where the new year’s eve party is at.

“one last reminder: you’re allowed to drink tonight. you deserve to have a break time,” you said as heeseung glanced at you.

“then, who’ll be taking care of you tonight?”

“i can take care of myself, you doofus,” you replied to him, “and i’m most certainly could take care of you too.”

you glanced up at the apartment you moved from as you greeted the security guard, who is still greeting you even if you’re not the tenant here anymore. bringing yourself to the elevator as you press the familiar button, your eyes stare at the changing numbers on the way to your floor as it opens when you both arrive. you could hear the muffled loud voice that you’re hoping would be alright—"it’s okay! the neighbors are away for new year’s eve so we can party all we want" minjeong reassured you—as you approached the familiar door and put in the keypad: they still didn’t change it.

the door opens as you pick up the speaker playing in your small get-together with your people. you can hear the shout of yours or heeseung’s names as you slowly pull your shoes off by the door that has already littered with so many shoes of other people. the get-together is only for the seniors in hybe uni who are linked to your friend circle and, not going to lie, you didn’t expect for it to still be this many.

you see chaeryeong approaching you as she tugs your coat off before hugging you, already knowing that she is tipsy just by looking at her.

“you’ve come back, mama,” she teases you as you hug her too while you can pick up jeongin’s voice greeting heeseung with their usual bro hug. ryujin comes in as she brings a bucket of popcorn to be given to the crowd gathering by the tv that is playing a playlist of kpop songs. minjeong and sungchan come to hug you together as you find eunseok and chenle behind you.

“i’m so sad that you can’t drink.” sungchan said as he gently touched your bump. “she’s carrying my niece and nephew, of course, i don’t want her to drink,” minjeong cuts her boyfriend off as you playfully pull out your flask, making them widening their eyes before you say, “it’s just lemon soda water. i’ll be okay.”

you let them move away as you glance at yunjin, who is now using your room after you moved. she seemed to scream when she saw you as you instantly hugged her, “look at you, mommy.”

“thanks, jen.” you replied, “how’s it been living here?”

“fun as fuck. i don’t care that i only have 6 months of uni to live here but anything i would do to allow boys in my room-“ you playfully nudge her forehead as the laughs between the two of you combine with the sound of the people talking in the apartment. the boys greet you now as jimin and jeongin let heeseung talk with keeho, jiung, and theo.

“how have you been with heeseung?” jeongin asked genuinely as he got cut off by jimin, “hopefully his snore doesn’t turn you off much-“

“aish. YA! don’t cut me off.” jeongin nudges him away as jimin shows his own grin towards you as you ponder.

“he does snore, but i’m getting numb to it-“

“i don’t snore, (l/n)(y/n).” heeseung shouted from the other side of the room.

“you do!” you heard yourself, jeongin, jimin, and somebody—somewhere in the apartment—replying. knowing the strength in power, you and jeongin giggled as you continued to catch up.

“who’s having heeseung’s room?” you questioned, making jeongin pull someone out of the conversation as you see the familiar face that makes you giggle.

“yoon jaehyuk?”

“hey, (y/n)!” he hugs you as you pull back, confusion on your face.

“i thought you were still rooming with asahi…”

“ahh… yeah… so he decided to do an internship back in japan and he’s not coming here often unless so that’s why i room with the boys. gotta have to thank seung again for telling me the vacancy,” he said as you saw him smirk. you nod your head as you allow yourself to be taken by the flow of the conversation. conversing with the likes of hyeju, yerim, wonjin, and hyunsuk, before you can feel yourself getting tired as you walk towards the sofa, seeing beomgyu being left alone with one plastic cup in his hand and the other on the remote control—as if he is the music man of the night—as you can see him changing the playlist to play a sing-along playlist for songs of 2000s emo alt-rock.

“can i sit here?” beomgyu lifts his head from your question. you want to ruffle his hair for it being too messy, but knowing the aftermath of your last duo interaction, it feels totally different.

“of course,” he replied as you sat on the space beside him. he seemed to notice just how messy his hair was as he moved it so you could notice his flushed face from the drinking.

“oh yeah, apologies. you can’t drink-“

“nah, i can.” you pulled the flask out as beomgyu widens his eyes. “lemon in soda water. so that i can feel the festivity alongside all of you.”

beomgyu lets out a sheepish smile as he nudges his cup out, “cheers?”

“cheers.” you meet the cup with your flask as you both drink from it, feeling yourself sigh as you thank yourself for finding such a safe remedy so that people know you can still “drink”. but when you retreat your thoughts back to beomgyu, you can still see a familiar tinge of sadness on his face.

“what happened?” you decide to throw away any leftover feelings just so you know he is alright. beomgyu scoffed as he wanted to answer.

“i confess to ryujin and guess who got denied?” he points his thumb toward himself and you can’t help but let out a pout. you can think of so many reasons why she rejected him, but you know she might be doing that because of you and your unresolved feelings for him—especially since you’ve learned she is sexually attracted to him because they hooked up.

“you gotta have to be patient with that. she’s a demiromantic, so you have to coax her into that part of the relationship. make her trust you enough.” you decide to lecture him. many people have been trying to get with ryujin even when you both are in high school, but because of terrible experiences, you understand how she realized who she is now. you were with her through thick and thin at that time and you know that if beomgyu is the one asking her out first, it’s definitely a legit attraction from his side because ryujin remained romantically single for her nearly 4 years of college life.

“and i should tell her i gave the blessing. she might still be holding back because of me and my feelings towards you,” you say what you thought out loud, showing beomgyu just how effective his rejection is not only to you but also to himself.

“i’m sorry once again, (y/n). i shouldn’t have used you like that,” he said as you blinked your eyes, letting out a hum as your answer.

“but truly, i couldn’t reciprocate your feelings because-“

“because i’m your best friend’s baby mama. i remember.” you slice his sentence and put in your own. but you didn’t expect him to add to it more.

“yeah, that but also,” beomgyu lifted his head towards one point in the room as you followed, finally letting the sound of the fall out boy song in your hearing as you listened to heeseung singing along with it with a similar cup in his hand, taking a deserved break just for the night to let loose. that is when after he sang the high note that he caught your gaze and you see the corner of his lips tugging upwards.

“it’s heeseung too. he had never been this caring towards someone. even to his previous girlfriends where he only dated for like three months top.” he said as you can remember heeseung dating in high school and he had only had a girlfriend for like a month before they broke up. it’s a teasing material you and ryujin used and you can remember how fuming he became before beomgyu calmed him down. beomgyu’s word makes you realize something as it definitely is a fragment of the answer that he couldn’t answer when you asked him nights before.

“i have a guess that he has been having feelings towards you that he is willing to monetarily fund you throughout your pregnancy. it’s hard to find a guy like that unless he is honest and sincere.” beomgyu continued as you jumbled the words to find the answers hidden in them because—true to what the boy beside you said—if he is not sincere, he wouldn’t be leaving you alone to face this phase of your life. your mind suddenly thinks of a world when you say nothing to him about you being pregnant, letting it be a secret that he might only know after you give birth to the twins. but, you still won’t lie the sexual attraction is there to make them in the first place.

“thanks for answering the age-old question, beomgyu.”

“you’re welcome,” he said as he saw heeseung approaching the two of you. you can see with the way he has a little sway in his movement that he is definitely tipsy: nearly drunk. he pulls you up before sitting down on your previous space and tugging you down so you sit on his lap. his hand moves towards your bump and you can feel the babies reacting by kicking around the skin where he puts his palm.

“oh yeah, txt’s coming back with a gig. would love to see you both there cause we might spoil a new single for our next album.” beomgyu said as both you and heeseung stared at him.

“no shot. we’ll be there, right, hee?”

“uh huh,” he replied as you could see the cringe on beomgyu’s face, not used to seeing his best friend being disgustingly lovey-dovey towards his partner as he stood up from the couch.

“i’m gonna grab more snacks. hold the remote for me, won’t you?”

you picked the remote from his hand as you replied, “good luck on ryujin. be patient.”

“i will!” you heard beomgyu reply as heeseung’s nose seemed to distract you by tracing it against your cheek.

“what was that?”

“you know the love triangle i mentioned?” he hummed to your question.

“beomgyu got rejected by ryujin, so i was giving him tips to get into her heart romantically and i have to give a blessing to ryu if she wants to pursue him.”

“ah... that. well finally. beom’s brave enough to actually confess.”

“how is he like about her during high school?” you turn to examine heeseung as he sways your body on top of him.

heeseung chuckles before answering, “he is definitely whipped for her. he was so angry for being late to confess when ryujin suddenly got a boyfriend…”

“that guy was a bad boyfriend in the end.” you fill out heeseung’s story as he let out another hum.

“speaking of high school, i’m guessing i’m not the only that is having my phone setting off so much from the story i repost?” he squinted his eyes, making you let out a sheepish smirk.

“ooh, let’s actually see how they react!”

you and heeseung see the messages that are being exchanged of how you both are together and some congrats to the people who notice the baby bump. but still, the overwhelming census says “HOW ARE YOU TWO TOGETHER” exactly with the caps on. all you and he could do was laugh as you waited for the next year to start in just a few minutes.

the new year that you are ready to face with him.

you are rummaging through heeseung’s side of the wardrobe as you hopefully don’t want your expectation to be wrong. that he, AT LEAST, still has the uniform from the last season in his wardrobe.

heeseung left hours before to train some more for the championship finale tonight and as a former basketball player and his “partner”, you gotta have to show him support—"or i will actually kick you out" he jokingly said. you knew of his predicament so well, being the captain of the team but also as the versatile player who his teammates have to rely on. but you definitely can trust him for this because, of course, he wins against you when it comes to the basketball category.

you can feel the vibration of the notifications on your phone, telling you that your friends are here to pick you up at the arena as you let out the breath you were holding and tug your tank top lower to cover your bump. you have finally found last year’s decelis basketball uniform as you see the words “h.s. lee 01” so clearly on the back. it still smells so clean because he probably has not worn the top in a long time—but you have seen him wear the bottoms as some house clothes. you tug your head through the collar and put your hand through the sleeveless strap as you pull the top down, seeing the excess of his clothes covering the rest of your bump as it hangs on the end.

when you hear the sound of the doorbell ringing, you quickly walk to the door and open it, turning off the bell from the intercom before you are met with ryujin hugging you.

“you look sexy. i didn’t know you were that possessive, (y/n).”

“oh shush, the babies have to know that i’m also rooting for their daddy, of course. now, can you help me put on my shoes, please?”

after all of that is done and none of your things are left behind, you tuck your jacket as you enter charyeong’s large-ass van—probably from switching the car she brought from the previous semester back home during the break—as you are greeted by the whole gang when you enter with beomgyu driving and ryujin on the shotgun, noticing just how comfortable they are in conversing with each other now. you could see just how fast they’ve been getting it on as you don’t want to comment on it that much.

“tickets are with me.” jimin said in reply ryujin’s worrying scold when you let beomgyu drive the van towards the arena. you recognize the large arena from the many times you went by it, but also the distinct yellow neon color of hybe uni’s university color as it is the town’s signature arena. stepping out of the car, you felt the winter air hitting you as you and the rest are going inside the arena with jeongin holding some banners they made for heeseung that you don’t know shit about.

but the thing is: heeseung doesn’t know all seven of you will be here. because you didn’t tell him you don’t have work today when he thought you had.

well… that’ll be a major surprise for him.

you greeted a few of the juniors you recognize as the people who you worked with for in uni events or your junior in the business major. many of your peers’ juniors are also here as you discover some of them fangirling about beomgyu and how they are excited for his next album coming soon from the single they have released. even jeongin got recognized even if he is a small-time streamer. but he was raided by a bigger streamer during his subathon at the start of the year and has more collabs with the stray kids collective. safe to say he is set in his pursuit to be a streamer—"or a pro gamer if that doesn’t work," jeongin had said to you.

you recognized some of the cheerleaders as you have pretty good ties with them too when you helped one of them in bringing them to the hospital because of an injury during outdoor practice. though, you might not be as famous as your friends—you and minjeong actually—you are pleasant enough to recognize the satisfaction of your balanced socialization but also be at home watching movies with her for your 4 years of college.

“gosh, has it gone that fast?” you think to yourself. there’s a sense of melancholy towards it as you are here to do your last semester. to separate from the friends you made whilst being here as you open a new chapter, which you decided it will be with heeseung as you only have a month until your babies arrive.

the arena lights dim as you can hear the mc introducing the teams, both universities are cheering for each of their team until it’s decelis’ time.

“decelis number 1, playing in his last season before graduating, it’s lee heeseung.”

you actually let out a scream that shocked your friends as you watch heeseung coming out and stand in front of the opposite’s no. 1. then you pick up the recognizable names of heeseung’s teammates, mostly the juniors, sophomores, and freshmen, coming to take their place beside him. the names that you’ve heard so much is because of heeseung who was asking about on how to position his teammates in the right way with you—who will be ones in the court first and how can they do in facing the opponent. you actually had to use the basketball insight you haven’t used in a while to help him strategize, making you recognize just how well the players are in each category.

with his hands behind his back, heeseung’s gazes at the bleachers where the decelis supporters were. he was hoping he could see jeongin on the right side of the bleachers, but not going to lie, he wanted to see you in his game—answering the joking taunt he gave. the strategizing you help with is being taken seriously by coach min as he agrees to let the first people you helped him pick to be the one on the court first. the spotlight blinded him but he could see someone wearing darker clothing than the yellow and white colors of decelis is using this season.

as the light’s brightness increases, his eyes stay on that certain spot as he recognizes it is you. he can feel his heart pulsing swiftly when he recognizes the top you are wearing, scanning the number 1 on the front: his last season’s uniform. you stood right beside the aisle of the bleachers just three rows back from his own benches. he could definitely bring himself to you right after if he wants to.

after the players shake their hands and return to their benches, you finally notice how heeseung recognizes you as you catch his sight, but then he lets his eyes trail to the people beside you to see the gang fully completed when he actually does a face-palming motion. you turn to view the banners the boys are lifting, “DECELIS’ KAEDE! ALL OF US ARE HERE NOW!” the little inside joke that you and the girls also understand as none, and yes, none of the games heeseung played has all the gang there to watch. only this one: his final one.

heeseung steps out first alongside jaehyun, niki, jake, and sunghoon. niki is at the front as he waits for the referee to blow the whistle. he jumps and uses his long limbs to push the ball towards the decelis side as heeseung gets it and immediately passes it towards jaehyun. the screeching sounds from the shoes make the quick side stepping and pivoting be picked up as you listen to the sound of the supporters fighting against each other in how loud and united the support is. jake got the ball as he easily slips under the reach of the opponents and he halts and quickly shoots, an easy two-pointer at the start. but the opponents: they are not that easy to beat.

8 minutes in, the score is so tight at 17:15 to decelis. niki and sunghoon have such a good time as they successfully dunk an alley-oop together. jake is killing it with the lay-ups while heeseung has gotten one three-poin- wait no, make it two three-pointers as the score rises to 20:15. but you realize just how weak the defense is as you can actually hear coach min saying to focus on offense on one timeout still in the 1st quarter. and they still focusing on the offense, making the current score for the 1st quarter being 20:17.

heeseung rested out for the 2nd quarter as coach min let a few nimble ones play on the court such as jungwon and sunoo. lay-ups and shoots scored the most in this round but jay was the primary target of the opponent as he always got free throws. maybe because they just recognize how good jay is at scoring three-pointers but if he is inside near the ring, he could do a backboard bounce or even a dunk. you actually feel your body sweating as you understand just how worrisome the situation is. it makes you pull off your outer jacket as you can pick up gasps and surprises to your wearing heeseung’s uniform. you look at his side profile as you sit behind him, discussing with taesan on what to do about this as coach min seems to get taesan out after calling another time out. the score at the end of the 2nd quarter is 34:32.

“i swear to god, (y/n).” you heard minjeong said beside you, “why is this so high school musical 3 vibe?”

you actually let out a pout whilst holding your laughter, because what she’s saying is so true. during your winter break—because you and heeseung are “home”—you and him binge-watch the high school musical trilogy. the way, you remember, heeseung cackling as he watches how the bleachers sit down to show gabriella as troy was having this existential moment when they only have 16 minutes on the clock is ridiculously funny. but you can see him bopping his head to the basketball practice song that is “get’cha head in the game” that you might believe it’ll be his guilty pleasure practice song. “please, bet on it is so good though.” he also said as you watch the second movie, and how he is shocked to watch you remember the lyrics of “gotta go my own way” with how you karaoke the shit out of it. yes, both troy and gabriella’s parts.

to experience similar moments being imitated in life makes you rethink how it happens in the first place. like, no, you aren’t gabriella and heeseung isn’t troy and you both are not in high school when all of this is happening. but you’re thinking about what could’ve been. but, as many people have said, high school isn’t like high school musical.

the 3rd quarter started and you watch heeseung playing once again, focusing on his part as a forward but also helping in defending because of his tall body that can shield the hoop from the opponent. but, the morale seemed to have dimmed down as you see the way the opponent’s score now flips over decelis’ even by one point. but then the gap widens as both teams are doing well with defenses. however, decelis seemed to have some slip-ups. you can see the opponent’s player with number 2 on their back—seemingly the ace of the team—that is put in this round is turning the tides, focusing on quick motions, passes, and attacks. and just like that, the 3rd quarter ends with a score of 42:44. just one shot of difference.

and, unlike those 2000s rom-com movies you watched that have a couple with one of them being an athlete, you go down the bleachers as heeseung watches you when coach min is telling of the plan with the rest of the team. you grab his hand towel and help to dry the drops of sweat dripping down his head. a loving gesture that is hiding something as you lowly whisper to only him.

“target number 2. making him tired.”

heeseung nods his head—as if he is thinking of the same thing—when you let yourself lean in and give him a kiss on his forehead before letting the towel go so you can return to your seat. his eyes follow your retiring figure before turning towards his coach, who is tracing the board with a marker.

“i think we also have to target their number 2. if he plays.” heeseung said, making the others turn to him.

“we need someone with a wide reach and nimble enough to catch up to him. someone who hasn’t had a foul yet to stick right to him. he’s good with his lay-up but he has taken a few inside shots and misses, which means he might be weaker at free throws. so you need someone who doesn’t have any fouls who isn’t scared to bump into him when he starts doing lay-ups, then we can score through rebounds,” he stands beside coach min as he puts his forefinger on the board, tracing the path of one of the pins as he continued, “we do a two-time pass and maybe the forwards will be on standby as they can do a layup or dunk.”

the coach glances at him, rethinking of the new information the captain gave him as he nodded, “who doesn’t have any fouls?”

heeseung sees sunoo, riwoo, and leehan raising their hands as the coach continues, “i’ll be switching you up every four minutes, and remember what heeseung says: take the foul. as long as you don’t have five fouls, you are alright. we have to be brave enough to play dirty. i’ll be having taesan, sunghoon, and niki switching between each other for the center and power forward positions. jake, sungho, and jungwon will take over for point guard and heeseung, jay, and jaehyun for shooting guards, okay?”

“yes, sir!”

“team!” the coach pushes his hand in the center as the rest put their hands on top of his. coach min nods towards heeseung.

“decelis!”

“dece- dece- fighting.”

the supporters roar as he see the opponent doing the same thing to taunt them. heeseung has his eyes on their number 2 before looking back at you who is standing up as you give him a thumbs up.

10 more minutes.

1 time of 10 minutes and it is done. for heeseung, it will be the last time he played as a college basketball athlete as he will graduate later in the year. for him, it is now or never.

“heeseung,” coach min’s hand on his shoulders, “thanks for telling me about number 2.”

he lets out a smirk before answering, “you should thank my girlfriend for that.” and he walks to the court, seeing leehan placing himself right by number 2 with the ball at their side as taesan passes it to niki. niki dribbles forward as heeseung and sungho is at the front near the ring. leehan sticks by number 2 with taesan now by the ring, but niki notices how sungho is empty as two people are trying to defend taesan. he passes it towards sungho who immediately dribbles inside, not scared to move in as he finds the right path to the hoop and does a layup.

score!

heeseung pushes his hands out so he can high-five sungho as they retreat behind the center line. he notices the opponent’s forward passing to number 2 who is so fast and already in a way to do a layup where leehan pushes him, making him prematurely shoot and miss the backboard. a foul given by the referee.

heeseung stood near number 2 as he hoped his theory would come true. number 2 shoots his first free throw and misses. his eyes are on niki and taesan nearest the ring, telling them to pass the ball to him as they read his signals, nodding in return. number 2 shoots his second free throw and misses when taesan rebounds the ball and passes it to niki as heeseung runs backward to the outside of the half circle. the ball flies up as niki passes towards heeseung, who feels someone near him as he jumps and quickly pivots away from the opponent behind him. he sees the small sliver of empty space outside of the half circle and dribbles there before shooting his shot.

a three-point score!

with the opponent’s plan to use number 2 becoming a failure as there is a three-score gap in the scoreboard, the decelis team remains in the same strategy of guarding number 2 and fouling to fail their attempt to shoot. heeseung sees coach min tally up their scores when he calls for a timeout, changing all five of the players with their replacements in their assigned positions. heeseung sits down on the bench as he stretches his legs, wanting to look back to gaze at you before he feels a tap on his side to see jungwon smirking.

“girlfriend, huh?”

heeseung raises his eyebrows.

“you said to coach to thank my ‘girlfriend’, since when is (y/n) noona your girlfriend?"

“honestly, i don’t know.” he looks to find you before fully focusing on jungwon, “something just tells me that it’s correct to refer to her as that.”

“also, did she play basketball? how does she know that number 2 is their ace?”

“well…” heeseung smirks as he leans towards jungwon, basking in the way his team has found the right way of play as the gaps between the teams are getting longer and longer. jungwon also has an air of surprise when heeseung tells him that you were a former basketball player—a point guard like the boy he is talking to.

“but why did she stop?” jungwon genuinely asked, making him chuckle.

“let’s just say that she knew she wouldn’t beat me when it came to playing basketball.”

the opponent team did a timeout as heeseung said “good luck” to see jungwon now being called to play on the court. seeing jay, the three-point master playing on the court when there are 2.5 minutes of the match is done as if to terrorize them more. not only did they have riwoo who hadn’t had a foul yet, sunghoon and taesan are now playing as they have used their tall arms to defend and attack successfully, and jungwon who is ready to be the point guard. heeseung can feel the pride oozing out of him at how unstoppable his team is. coach min seems to contemplate whether to put him on or not, but heeseung shakes his head.

“let them be. it’s their chance.”

and it’s their chance indeed, as he sees the time counting down at rapid speed. when it is under the 30-second mark, the opponent successfully gives another score but they are too far from decelis as all they have to do is defend the hoop. one of them takes their last chance, watching the ball hitting the rim as sunghoon grabs it—10 seconds left—before passing it towards riwoo who is moving on the court, doing an ankle-breaking turn to his opponent before passing it to jay, who instantly shoots the ball as heeseung sees the perfect arch. he heard the siren calling the end of the game and the ball falling perfectly into the opponent’s basket.

they won.

all the decelis players approach jay on the court as they hug him, but heeseung is nowhere to be found.

instead, he jumped from the bench and climbed up the bleachers where he saw you cheering. your expression changes when you notice him approaching, a euphoric smile on his face as he grasps your cheeks and brings his lips to yours, making you instantly close your eyes as you move your hand to caress his sweaty-ass nape. you can hear the cheer of your friends beside you as you remember they were recording, making them record both of you as you felt heeseung’s hand drops to give a gentle grip on the bump.

you could see heeseung’s hooded gaze as he didn’t hesitate to crouch down and give two kisses to each side of your bump—for his two kids—before he stood up and gave you another peck on the lips.

“go down to the court!” you push him away from his celebration as he sees his team already gathering, waiting for him. he approaches the court with a sheepish smile as they seem to chuckle while seeing their captain so in love.

you wait as you eye heeseung’s figure that is being embraced by his teammates. minjeong showing you her point of view of the kiss as you can sense how passionate the two of you are; reminding her to send it to you as sit down and lean back, feeling a weight from you also falling down alongside heeseung’s.

the mc talks about who the player of this match is and the team was so excited to know that jay won for his numerous scores in the three-pointers—he deserves it after all. but he also had one more thing.

“at the end of every season, we also have the most valuable player of the season and for this year, for the third time in a row, mvp is decelis’s no. 1, lee heeseung!”

heeseung does a deep bow as he gets the mvp trophy and he sees some package for him that he could give to his teammates and bring the rest home to share alongside you. his vision looks at the mvp trophy, tracing the figure of a basketball player in action when he sees his reflections on its golden sheet surface. his smiles dropping as he can feel contempt.

“any words?” the mc asked as he was being offered the mic.

heeseung grabs the mic and rests it in front of his lips, finding the right things he will say as he utters, “i would like to thank my decelis family for being with me since i started my college basketball career, the hybe uni supporters for cheering us on, and to my friends who are here all complete with all 8 of us here.”

he sees how beomgyu seems to shrug as he wants to hide–cause beomgyu, especially, has only been to heeseung’s game once every season.

“to our opponents, you have done such a terrific job and i see you, number 2. you’re going to do so well.” said number 2 also bowed his head, knowing just how highly regarded heeseung is—one for the legends.

“this is also my last season with decelis as i’ll be graduating this year. thank you for having me and i’m sure the decelis will be in safe hands with them.” he turned towards his teammates as they looked at him with glimmers in their eyes and flatters in their hearts. heeseung gave one more deep bow before giving the mic to the mc as they waited for the medal ceremony.

heeseung could sense the festivity floating around in the locker room as he felt the hug of each of his teammates. he could see the enormous bags of snacks from the package beside him on the bench, as he knew he wouldn’t be eating them all anyway, giving it to the rest of the team as he packs a few of the little snacks in his duffle bag.

jake approaches him and asks, “so you really aren’t going pro?”

“hmm… nah… but i might be still seeing you if i got the right job to discuss college basketball.” heeseung answered as niki approached, “gosh, you are light years older than us, old man.”

“i’m only 4 years older than you, nishimura. you were supposed to be in high school if you didn’t have an accelerated class.” he nags as the others still basking in the euphoria of winning the medals. he, of course, wants to celebrate, but he has another thing to do in his mind that is much more important than celebrating with the guys.

“the victory party is tomorrow, right?” heeseung asks.

“yeah, it is hyung.” jaehyun answered, “all of us needed a rest after that shit.”

“i need a soak!” heeseung hears taesan complaining as all of them change from their shoes to their respective sandals.

“rest well then we can have fun tomorrow,” jay answers as he gently grabs his player of the match package and puts it in his duffle bag, making heeseung pat his shoulder. while preparing their bags as they left the arena to go home for the night, heeseung glanced at his phone to see the numerous notifications from social media of his victory and retirement speech before he landed on your simple notification.

(y/n) :P : i’m by your car.

he lets his feet bring him to where he parked his car hours prior, seeing you leaning against the front of it with the light of your phone shining on your face. you lifted your head as you heard the sound of his footsteps approaching. put the phone away, you brace for his hand holding onto yours, gripping you hard as he gives you a long, breath-taking kiss.

“congrats,” you say to him as his nose touches yours, bringing you in for another kiss as both of you are moving your lips around to adjust, earning a muffled moan from you as he felt your hands scouring around on his body.

“where’s your car key?” you whispered to him as you saw him shake his head, making you frown.

“if you genuinely want to take me tonight, you have to be strong. let me drive, heeseung,” you asked with your voice tone lower, making him flow into a dazed state as he zips open the front of his duffle bag and dropped the car key in your hold, making you push past him as you open the driver’s seat. heeseung instinctually walks to the backseat as he places the bag in the center. the sound of the car engine starts after you push the start button. heeseung closes the door and gets in the passenger door as you still adjust your seat. you knew you wouldn’t see your legs, but driving is a muscle memory thing so you hoped it would kick in you.

from your perspective—and because you have a smaller car—his car is massive. but as you adjust all the mirrors to your liking and with the new sensors on the side mirror to help detect blind spots, heeseung’s car is definitely more technologically advanced than yours.

moving the gear to drive, the car stumbles forward as it pulls out of the arena’s lot with headlights switched all the way on. heeseung has his seat leaning back, cannot wait on what he’ll get and be getting back at your home as he places his hand on your thigh.

why is the elevator ride so long?!

you stare at the rising number with both of your hands behind you, not even minding slipping on the coat that you were wearing because you can feel how hot heeseung’s touches are the whole time you’re driving back to your apartment.

speaking of heeseung, you took a peek from the corner of your eyes to see him staring at you, not breaking away as he trails behind you after parking the car in the basement and going to the elevator. both of you in your decelis’s lee heeseung basketball paraphernalia when you can feel the tension steadily building. because you know from the hooded eyes he gave you in that arena that he wants to celebrate his last victory with you.

the sound of the medal hanging on his chest creating thuds that harmonically tie with both of your footsteps. none of you said anything as heeseung lets you lead the way to your shared apartment. you can still imagine the distinct image of when you turn your head towards heeseung to see him biting his lip lower lip under the shining red traffic light, teasing you throughout the drive as he trails his hand up and down your thigh, closer and then farther to your core.

you can sense him leaning his figure on the wall beside the door, enclosing you with his body as you type in the keypad to unlock the door. the ringing chime tells both of you that the door is unlocked as you push open, already swiftly pulling your shoes off because you just know that it might slow you down with whatever you’ll be doing if you take your time. tugging your bag off of you as you walk and drop it with your coat on the nearest beanbag, the eerie silence makes you alert on every step you take.

“heeseung-“

you felt your body being turned around as heeseung pushed you to the wall. your breath being taken away by the small thud as he pushes his lips to yours, finally showing that passion he is holding back when he gives you his victory kiss. his hold on your cheek is gentle, but the way his lips mesh and move against yours is the opposite. you can feel the desperation and pent-up emotions flowing out, maybe because that’s one reason you never heard of him hooking up with someone as you can sense the frustrating grit of not getting off showing in his performance during his ball game.

your hands reach for his back as you playfully caress and tug the hair falling on his nape, making him gasp and let out such a hot low-toned chuckle before slipping his tongue into your gaping lips, exploring your mouth and trying your best to hold you close. to hold you and both of your babies close to him. he leans back and lets his forehead and nose caress against yours. both of your eyes close as you bask in his touch.

“you look so fucking good in my uniform.” he pecks your lips before giving kisses all over your face.

“your uniform is so comfortable to wear,” you reply as he groans, trailing his hand down your sides before resting by your waist with the bump, gripping it hard.

“all of my babies look so beautiful in wearing what’s mine.”

his words making you giggle as you grip his chin to make your lips connect, biting lightly on his pouting lip as you can sense his hands now underneath your top, feeling his touches on the skin that is two layers deep of tank top and bra you are wearing.

“sorry, kids. but i just have to thank your mom for sticking right by me,” he says a bit loudly as he caresses the bump before his hands move to your hips and thighs, lifting it up and making you gasp as you can feel how you are slightly lifted off of the floor.

“heeseung, aren’t we too heavy-“

instead, he lifts you higher against the wall and you can feel your top being dragged by it. cutting your words off as he connects his lips and grinds his crotch against yours.

“i can definitely lift heavier than you, woman. believe me and wrap yourself around me so i can ravage you.”

“shut the fuck up, you aren’t a literature student.” you giggle at his uncalled pretty words when you wrap your legs and arms around him, taking all three of you with him to your shared bedroom that is only being lit up by the orange-tinged lamp—making the entire atmosphere a bit more romantic. you try to move your weight to help him balance before he drops you down in front of your shared bed.

linking his lips with yours once again, his touches becoming more vulgar as he is not embarrassed to touch your breasts, making you gasp as you caress the exposed side of his uniform to feel the ridges of his ribs. his hands are raised as you tug his uniform off of him. the last time you looked at him this way was that night you two fucked and he look a bit more ripped than 8 months before—his muscles seemingly thicker from the workout he had to endure to maintain his body. his biceps and triceps are more pronounced from dribbling and shooting the ball to the basket as you can feel the cool traces of his skin because of his sweaty sheen meeting the cold weather. your lips trail from his to underneath his jaw, giving little suck as you trace them to his pronounced clavicle, remembering his sensitive nipples from the last time as you can hear his small moans from the combination of light pinching and sucking that blooms small but many amounts of your marks on him.

you turn both of your figures as you sit on the bed whilst heeseung peers down; him shaking his head at realizing what you're doing as you trace your fingertips on his abdomen.

“it’s your fucking victory, heeseung. you deserve it,” you mumbled as you give a kiss to his growing cock before tugging the band of his underwear down, seeing it bounce up in its semi-erect glory. you didn’t hesitate to spit on your palm and wrap your hand around it, stimulating his tip as he could feel the shivering spreading in his body.

“fuck-“ he spoke near a whisper as he leans his head back, showing the expanse of his neck from your position because you also can’t wait to ravage it with your marks. one hand stroking him and the other stimulating his own balls, he hisses as he felt your warm mouth taking him in, making him looking down to see you with your eyes close as you wet him, opening your eyes as you move your head back to examine his cock glistening with your saliva. his hand caressing softly of your hair as you continue to take him.

“ah hah…” heeseung moans as he has one hand on your head and another by your cheek, feeling it hallowing as you take him. the way you gag before pulling back as you cough makes him lean down to kiss your spit-covered lips before you push him away as you take his dick in your mouth once again. you can sense him getting longer and thicker as the blood flows into his dick when you push him deeper into your cavern once again, feeling the tip of your nose brushing his pelvis as you heard his groan getting louder, making you moan as it also stimulates him more.

the hand that was pushing your head suddenly pulled you away as heeseung went down on his knees to connect your lips, making him taste his own pre-cum that was ever-flowing as he felt the sliver of skin when both of your tank tops rested just above your belly. he lifts both his uniform and your tank top underneath off of your body as he is met with you in your black maternity bra and your bump where you have been incubating his kids for the last 8 months.

“ah…” you moan out as heeseung’s hand caress your sensitive nipple while he focuses on kissing your bump and the stretch marks it produces. he remembers clearly how you are always wearing the skin lotion that could help with your stretch mark after showering before going on your bed, making him stare at you who is in front of the mirror as he sees you gently spread the remedy on your skin. he also remembers how your face sometimes falls as you see the thick stretch marks, making him also pull out a little frown.

“you’re so fucking beautiful.” you heard his muffled words against where your stretch marks at as you reached behind you to unclasp your bra, letting your girls breathe as you try to rub them as you sensed how tender they are. dr. park said that it’s because you are on your way of producing milk and it is very normal to feel it so tender and full.

putting your hands behind you to support you upright while you push your upper body towards the bed, heeseung’s hand playfully snaps your underwear band before tugging it down along with your socks, taking in your naked self that he couldn’t help but think even in such situations as when he is practicing and even during the doctor's appointment as he sees you getting your ultrasound done.

“lay down for me,” you caught his voice as you turned your body and stretched to get a pillow so you could support your head. his touches and kisses litter your thighs as you feel his fan of breath on your moist core that dripping down your essence. you felt one of his fingers picking the dropping pre-cum before pushing into your opening.

you can’t see him from this angle—the baby bump not allowing you—as you can only feel and listen to what he is doing to you. the finger pushes past the opening and you can hear him let out an exhale from the way your walls engulf him.

“how are you still so fucking tight?” heeseung seemed to also wonder as he felt his finger being covered in your natural lubricant, hearing you say from the bed.

“it feels so wrong to fuck people when i’m pregnant with your child.”

“me as well.” your eyes widen as you hear his nonchalant confession before you can feel him pushing in and out his sole finger from your core. that is when you feel the wet muscle of his tongue flicking your clit before giving the nub its own suck. your legs curl as you put your legs on top of the mattress, making him groan as he pulls your hips so your legs don’t have anything to support on before he lets you wrap them around his shoulders.

your bump doesn’t allow you to tug on his hair as he deliciously devours you, making you grab onto your sheets until your knuckles turn white while one of the hands stimulates your lips to make it seem like he is kissing you. another moan is out of you as heeseung adds another finger and interchanges his fingers and tongue into your hole. you can feel yourself getting tight as the band of your stomach is so close to being snapped.

“i’m going to fucking cum-“ you said in such a raspy voice as heeseung doesn’t stop, teasingly adding a third finger as you feel the band snap and you cumming on three of his fingers, making it much easier for him to penetrate you when you heard him hum as he licks the spillage from your cum. the sound of his heels planting on the floor makes your breath hitch as he rises from the floor, wiping the corner of his mouth as you can’t help but giggle and roll your eyes.

“take me like this.” you moved the pillow from your head to your hips as heeseung stood in between your legs that he was holding in both of his hands before leaning it against his torso. you can finally feel the head of his cock as it nudges your entrance, making you roll your eyes back as he kisses the calves of your outstretched leg against his body. when you sense his head pushing to stretch your lower lips, you let out a huge exhale and feel your arousal slowly being satisfied. your natural lubricant easily takes him in as he moves his body forward. both of your jaws slack as you sense him inside you, making you feel full once again after a long time.

“you’re so tight, mama,” he spoke in such a pet name that you could feel your warm face getting warmer with the rush of blood. heeseung’s gentle touches contrast with the rough ones he gave during your one-night-stand as he is reminded of the babies now existing between the two of you. you nodded your head as you reached for his hand that was gripping your waist, making him move in and out of you at a faster pace.

“fuck, you make me full, daddy.” you see how heeseung grins as he continues to thrust into you. he has his lips move from fully open to biting as he looks at your face reacting to each movement, wanting to kiss your delectable lips but knowing that he can’t because he doesn’t want to press up his kids. so, he lets his body move that thought to how he thrust in you and feeling how you reacted to that. your legs curling from the sensation as he moves his hand to your boob, groping it as you grab the hand to lock it with yours. you let out similar doe-like eyes like what he usually shows as you let out a raspy sound every time he plunges deep inside.

with your mind slowly floating from your head, you can feel the dizziness associated with laying down on your back for too long as you let your fingers out from his and wrap them around his wrist, hard.

the tight grip alerts heeseung as he sees you trying to push yourself up to sit down. pulling himself out as you felt the air in your gaping hole from his thick dick, you sit on the bed and grab his cheeks to bring his lips to yours. finally tasting him once again as you both tease the heck out of each other when both of you bite your respective bottom lips to make you both counter with something else. heeseung doesn’t hesitate to let his teeth bite your bottom lips before you let your tongue slip in and push into his mouth so you can battle each other.

letting him go and with a push so he steps away, you turn your body around and fold your body as you rested both of your feet on the ground and your upper body on the bed. your belly hanging from the suspension as you present yourself to heeseung who is groaning behind you.

“look at you, nasty girl who is slutting yourself for me,” he words out as you feel his slap on your ass, making you wiggle your hips.

“i’m your fucking slut, hee,” you said with your head turning towards him, a smile growing on your face as you felt the familiar sensation of his head plunging through your lower lips. you lean your head down on the pillow as he drives into you, making you let out a muffled moan as heeseung traces his hand down your spine.

“my slut who allows me to breed her.” you moan out as you listen to how his breeding kink is coming back. your belly jiggles along with each thrust as you lay your head on the pillow, turning your head to the side to watch your hand forming a fist before a hand reaches down to open the curled up fingers and place it down flat on the mattress: his hand enveloping yours as he curls his fingers into you. you can feel breathing against your ear as heeseung bites into your shoulder, marking you down as his while his thrust doesn’t stop.

“i’ll gladly breed you again and again.”

“fuck, daddy.”

“yeah, you like what daddy tell you, mama?”

you hummed as heeseung had his other hand pressing down your upper back so you could feel his tip kissing your cervix that is protecting your babies. yet, it still stimulates you so much that heeseung sees tears falling down the corner of your eyes, licking it up with his tongue.

“don’t hold back, shit, breed me, hee.”

heeseung—excited—grasps underneath both of your elbows as he pulls your limp body back, making you arch towards him as he makes his pace faster. your head leans back as you can’t even close your jaw, silent screaming coming out of you as he takes you in its entirety. you feel his lips kissing your head before you limp forward to let your head hang as he rests his own just behind your nape.

“you’re taking me so fucking well, (y/n). body just for me.”

he spoke as you felt your walls clamping up against him when his kisses contrasted with his thrust. heeseung feels your body trembling as he reaches his hand around to rub your clit, making you squirm once again as you mumbled, “c-cum…”

“cum for me, baby.” that is followed by your exasperated, pornographic moan as you can see white flashes while you cum, feeling heeseung’s thrust slowing down as he wraps his hand across your body now. with his own moans entering your ear, you can feel his cum staining your walls. both of you have to slow down to breathe well when you felt him kiss your shoulder blades before he pulls out, making a few of both of your cum fall down to the floor and trail down your thighs.

yet, your libido is still ongoing as you tug on his hand that is wrapped around your body. you turned around between his arms, thighs closing in on each other as you kissed his swollen lips so none of your essences would fall out again—because of your kink.

“sit down against the headboard for me,” you whisper against his lips before lazily kissing him once again as you let go to see him climbing on top of your shared bed and resting right in the middle of it. sheets already crumpled as he rearranged the pillows for his head and back on the headboard. his legs are stretched out in front of him and his arms resting behind his head. his face tells you to take him like he takes you, especially with his cock that is getting erect once again after seeing your hungry eyes.

you slowly crawl up to him on your hands and knees and widen your legs to slot him in between you. in the kneeling position, you crawl to his lap as his hands shoot to grab your waist, helping you as you grip his thick cock in your hand and bringing him to your entrance, slowly sinking down as your hands move to grip his upper arms. with such a fast pace coming from the last round exhausting both of you, you wanted to make this one slow—reminiscent of the unspoken tiebreaker between you two when you can feel a different feeling you have of him from the familiar ones you always get when you argue the hell out of each other. that feeling has bloomed throughout this journey as labels changed in so many turns and iterations. and here you are, sitting with heeseung inside of you, just taking in your feelings for each other as your zen mindset comes back to the ones you usually have during your daily ritual.

your hands wrapped around his back as you slowly move against him, not breaking eye contact even with how good the feeling of him rearranging your walls again, feeling every ridge of him against you. this position finally allows him to caress your body more, allowing his hand to softly soothe your bump as he can’t imagine how shocking this might have been for the babies. it allows him to hold on to your growing breasts that are producing milk for them, making you hiss as you continue to let him message them so that they’re not too stiff. it allows him to lean forward and kiss your own swollen lips with his, seeing the excess of your eyeshadows being smeared by your tears from how hard and delicious he had fucked you. it allows him to make hickeys on you, indent from bite marks alongside the skin turning dark littering the neck and collarbone, showing people you are his. it also allows you to do the same, creating abstract art between the two planes of his skin from the promise you made to yourself.

when he leans back to rest his upper body against the headboard, you ask him the dreaded question—not even slowing down your pace as you still continue to move.

“what are we?”

heeseung stops you from moving, knowing the severity of the question as he seems to read your face. you could see his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed down, all of your senses seemed to become so hypersensitive that even you could feel the small pinprick of pain in your skin cells at the way heeseung broke it to create one hickey on your neck. you see his eyes darting to different points of your face, also trying to read what you’re thinking.

“from the rivals to future parents to fake dating, i, i can’t pinpoint one.” you tried to voice out your answer, making heeseung seem much more comfortable in doing his bid.

“i refer to you as my girlfriend multiple times since it’s easier for naïve people to understand. but, i agree with you 100% that defining us.” he points between the two of you, “it’s hard.”

“hmm…” you nodded your head before lolling to the side, moving your hips so slowly just so that you also don’t make limbs too numb. “well, do you actually like me?”

“like you?”

“romantically, do you?” you let out a pout that makes him poke his finger to your cheek before you return it by scowling. it takes long for him to reply. a few breaths are taken and leave as you also allow yourself to match his rhythm as you slowly chase both of your highs. the way your facial changes expresses what emotions you are feeling: wonder from the way your eyes seemed to sparkle, fear as he sees that light dimming down, anger at how long he replied as he sees you wanting to poke tongue to your cheek. it switches even in such a minuscule way. but heeseung got to be reminded as to why he didn’t stop you or himself from following on this path.

“i do like you like that. romantically.”

you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, feeling the weight transfer to yours as you think of the past months, the ever-changing label, and the ever-changing feelings you have for him.

“me too. i do like you like that too.” you start to move faster as your grip on his torso tightens, “but calling us boyfriend and girlfriend will be too inappropriate cause we don’t have dates.”

“what about when it’s just the two of us?”

“the appointments, really heeseung?” you can see his smile widening, “you call those dates?”

“i can call that a date because we usually eat after each appointment,” he answers with the right vigor as you change the way you see. that, hey, maybe they are dates.

that’s when you laugh right in front of him, “we’re really doing it backward. the have-a-baby to can-i-have-this-date route.”

heeseung also laughs at your new phrasing, trying to define what your relationship is as he helps move your hips faster with his hold. yet, not wanting to make you two seem so haggard to discuss something so vulnerable.

“maybe companionship is the right word,” he said, lifting his hand to brush away the hair that is sticking to your skin. he sees you gnawing your lips as you nod, bringing him to your embrace as you move faster, feeling his shortness of breath by your skin as you nip on his earlobe.

“companionship is a great phrase,” you sense heeseung’s head nodding beside your own head. yet, you continue, “but i’m also ready to fall in love with you.”

heeseung pulls your chest off of his as he looks into your eyes, your lips parted as you breathe out, not wanting to stop because you can feel just how tight your walls are sticking onto him. he leans his head close to you, rubbing his forehead on yours as he brushing his nose tip with yours, one of his hands moving from your hip to your belly that is carrying his children. your children.

our children, heeseung corrects himself.

“i’m also ready. if you let me,” he replied, making you nod your head as you leaned forward to connect your lips to his. he leaned back and brought you along so he could sit against the headboard, helping to hold your hips as he helped his hips move to chase down both of your climaxes. you stare at each other in proximity, a smile growing on your face as you kiss his temple, enveloping him in your arms.

“i’m close-“ your breath hitches as he doesn’t stop. you helped by rubbing your fingers to your clit as your mouth widen, a silent moan coming out of you as you kiss him while you heard his muffled groan, feeling your walls a tad bit relaxed as he rides your climax and chasing his own. his grip on you is so tight that you can sense the weight of gravity that seems to bring you and him down, feeling his release within your walls as it drips onto his lap. you lap his lips with your tongue like before when heeseung then connect it with his, pouring out the remaining unspoken emotion you felt for each other before you both retreated, feeling his breath combining with yours.

“whose gonna shower first?” he asked.

“of course you. you are so grimy it’s actually disgustin-“

he pushes you so you fall from his lap and land on the empty space on the bed, making it easier for you to push him out as he had tired you, body and soul. as you see his butt naked self walking towards the bathroom outside of your room, you still think that you can’t believe he calls you his and how he allows you to call him yours.

5. that's our lamp and that's where you love us

you know that you’ll not be getting the whole 40 weeks of pregnancy experience when you have twins. average twins are born in week 37 to 38. well… you are now in week 36 and you just want the babies to come out!

the braxton hicks contraction is driving you crazy as you can see heeseung panicking beside you whenever it comes. with the postponement of your internship—allowed by the uni—you just want the babies to come as fast as possible that you might want to come to the hospital so that dr. park can break your water. heeseung sits beside you, letting out his hee hee hoos as you follow along with the exercise before you change your sitting position to feel it disappear.

“another fucking braxton hicks, goddamnit.”

heeseung can only shake his head, seeing his companion wanting to let it end and actually getting crankier every day when it is getting closer to the due date. he has been helping with the living situation, especially when it comes to cooking based on the recipes ryujin gave to him when you just seemed to not be able to cook anymore because of the sudden contractions. but your appetite is getting lower because you don’t have the thought of it with the pain you are in. he has tried contacting the doula for questions but her answer is to try to calm you down and make you relax. or to distract your crankiness towards something else. for him, his answer is mario kart 8.

“can it get any faster?” you are practically screaming as you sit on the beanbag with heeseung sitting on his own. the projector between you projecting his pc’s desktop of mario kart 8 as you race through maple treeway track.

“babe, we’re already in 200cc. you’ll get a bullet bill and it’s going to be okay.”

“i fucking know,” you answered, but he didn’t reply as hard because he knows that it was just your hormone reaction. you can watch your wiggler racing through the position as the number rises. the box on the corner shows that you’ve gotten a star and you don’t hesitate to use it; making the likes of donkey kong, mario, and baby bowser bounce out of the way as you are approaching heeseung’s yoshi who is in 1st place. going up the half-pipe of the maple treeway track is when you get the three red shells by being in 3rd place, knocking princess peach out of 2nd place as this is the final and tiebreaker course for both of you.

you almost want to press to throw your red shell when you see a blue shell flying, aiming towards heeseung.

“blue shell!”

“oh fuck-“ heeseung can’t avoid it as the blue shell hits him while he is gliding to the last section of the course, making you fly past him as you have the red shell prepare to throw backward. you quickly drive above the tree roots and throw your red shell behind you, hitting heeseung one last time before crossing the finish line.

“YES!”

you cheer from your beanbag as you lean back, feeling it soften your impact as you close your eyes and rub your face with your hands. you can hear heeseung’s voice when he tells you “good game”.

“gg to you as well, babe,” you replied, feeling yourself much more relaxed than ever as you felt the fake contraction gone.

but that’s also when you feel your crotch is wet.

as you see the projector showing you the trophy of your win, you don’t hesitate to plunge your fingers in between your thighs inside your pants as you can feel the overwhelming wetness coming out of you.

“heeseung?!”

“what? you’ve won-“

his eyes gaze at your glistening fingers to your shocked yet measured face.

“it’s time.”

“it’s time?” heeseung asked, his mind’s wiring not right as he saw you standing up, wobbling from your weight. but he also sees the front of your crotch all wet and the beanbag being the collateral damage.

“oh fuck, it’s time- okay.”

he rapidly moves to the babies’ room where he already has the bags packed for your hospital trip as you turn off his nintendo switch. he helped you wear one of his sweatpants to cover the stain as he brought you out of your apartment and brought you to the elevator. you can feel one contraction coming as you hold on to the elevator wall, eyes on your phone as you count the seconds in your head.

“40 seconds…” you mumbled as you arrived in the basement, “remember it’s 40 seconds…”

“yeah yeah. stay here, i’ll bring the car to you.” heeseung ran towards the car as you stood there, eyeing the phone as you called dr. park to tell her you were on your way to the hospital. you can hear the ringing of the phone by your ear before the call is picked up.

“hi, (y/n). i was just going to go back home-“

“my water broke, and, and, we’re on our way to the hospital.”

“oh my- okay, we’re having the room prepared for you.”

“thank you.” you hang up the call as you then move to call haseul when you hear the wheel skid in front of you as heeseung helps you in the car before scurrying away to the hospital.

“how’s your contraction?” you hear her ask.

“it’s in 40 seconds and- ugh…” you can feel another contraction coming as heeseung takes one glance at you before going to the road. you see the minute from the clock on the center dashboard of the car console as you mentioned to haseul, “10 minutes.”

“you’re in early labor. i’ll meet you at the hospital, okay?”

“great, thank you.”

heeseung had his eyes on the road as he overheard you calling your parents and his parents, not stopping until he had parked in front of the ICU to call one of the staff.

“my girlfriend’s in labor.” he voices out in panic, seeing a few staff gathering around you as heeseung leaves you alone to park the car.

you were brought into the vicinity by a wheelchair as you mentioned your name to the receptionist. recognizing your name, one staff told you that your hospital room is currently in preparation as two nurses come to take care of you. the nurse brings you to the room as you are greeted with dr. park who is asking you for your contraction, which you have counted to make you sane as you can feel the expanding pain across your body now.

“last time, it was 40 seconds and 10 minutes. the last contraction is 35 seconds-“

“okay, okay. let me check your dilation okay? your bathtub is being prepared as well as the midwives,” the doctor said, making you nod your head as she helped undress you and put you in the hospital gown.

now you understand why people want a fast and safe labor. it fucking hurts as hell, like a tiger munching away through your hip joints kind of hurt—not that you have experienced it yourself, but any kind of hyperbolic phrase you could think of cannot compare to this amount of pain. you had no other choice but to exaggerate because this is the most pain you have ever felt in your life.

“3 cm in dilation…” dr. park mentioned as you see one nurse helping you with checking your pulse when you feel yourself getting another contraction, sensing your womb’s clenches so hard against itself.

“8 minutes…” you voiced after looking at your phone. the doctor nodded her head as she went out of the room to check on the other things for your active labor. the nurses helping in prepare the room as you asked one of them, “when is it the right time to move to the tub?”

“usually when you’re in active labor, it’s 10 cm in dilation. but we can put you in the tub by 7 cm,” she answered rapidly, preparing the machines near you for later as you are prepared to go to your waterbirth room soon. you hear the swift footsteps approaching your room from outside as you see haseul alongside heeseung there. he instantly drops the bags to the side as he grabs your face, giving you a few kisses to pacify you as you can actually see tears also running down his face.

“what’s the dilation?” haseul questioned, furrowed eyebrows showing as she sees your body curling up from the pain.

“3 cm,” you replied, holding onto heeseung as you could feel another contraction incoming.

“we have to make her dilate faster cause she’ll be going into active labor in minutes now. can you dance with her, heeseung? just slowly.”

“i’ll try,” he said as he held you by your waist, swaying you from side to side as you heard him hum a song.

ever since your revelations towards each other, most of your time has been spent with him. sometimes you even dance around in your living room just because you want to, letting him know the mitski songs you have inherited in your mind and heart. how you also cathartically sing to them as heeseung has to take in the lyrics, because of how complex it is with its layers of analogies and metaphors. though slower, you let him guide you into a state of lull as your face shows him just how in agony you are to him.

heeseung feels guilty as fuck seeing you like this, knowing that you are the only one who holds onto the pain to deliver his children. he had wished there is some technology out that could let him share the pain to help alleviate yours because seeing you only mumble out words as haseul help you sip on your sippy cup while trying to make you ready is hard to look at. heeseung holds you so close, feeling your body quivering as you let out another moan from another contraction. with haseul beside you, she helps in counting down the contraction while the nurse you asked for information is standing by as they will help in checking your dilation. he could help distract you by nipping your earlobe as you gaze at him, making him caress your face so softly when he can hear the vibrating phone coming from his and yours as your family and friends are on their way to the hospital.

“6 cm.” the nurse checked your dilation as haseul added, “50 to 60 seconds every 4 minutes. do you wanna go to the tub, (y/n)?”

“yes, please.” you take a sharp intake as the nurse helps to bring you to the waterbirth labor room. haseul walks beside you as she elaborates on a few more important things because she can’t be with you during it as it is only family, talking to both you and heeseung.

“since you’re going to have twins, they’re will be a 3 to 30-minute interval between your labor. i’m hoping that after baby 1 is born, you can push out baby 2 immediately if the midwife gives you the ready sign to know if the baby is positioned correctly. we will be more concerned with baby 2 and we can give you an option to do partial waterbirth so you can birth no. 2 outside the tub. luckily, the midwives here have numerous water birth experiences and have the skill to give birth to multiples with water birth. will that be okay for you?”

“most definitely okay,” heeseung replied for you as the nurse sped to the room first when he stopped haseul, “how can i help?”

“when it comes to water birth, the midwives usually allow the partner to step inside the tub to help them. an advantage for the partner that normal or caesarian birth doesn’t give. are you okay with being in the tub with her?”

“i’m okay with that.” heeseung doesn’t hesitate to reply, making haseul taps his shoulder as she tells him to call him when you’ve given birth before she is leaving. heeseung watches the woman who has helped both of you so much walking away before bringing himself to you once again.

inside the labor room, he could see the hecticness of the midwives and nurses as they helped to pull your gown off your body, leaving you in your bra as he saw dr. park giving you an injection in your lower back before turning towards him.

“this is anesthesia to help her feel less pain. are you here to be with her?”

he nodded before saying his complete answer, “please let me in the tub with her…”

“of course, you can. we can help bring you water and such for her.” dr. park said as the nurses seemed to pick up what she was saying—already on their way to prepare for the stuff that can help him and you. heeseung walks to where you are, seeing one midwife checking your dilation before nodding her head to the doctor. he takes off his top and lets his shorts on as you feel his touch from behind you, seeing him stepping inside as well after you.

“slowly…” he whispered to your ear as you tilt your head to him, seeing him guiding you to kneel into the bathtub.

“hi…”

“hey,” he replied to your weak greeting.

“i don’t think you want to join me in the tub. it could get bloody and it’ll be pretty disgusting.” you slur out your words as heeseung sees the midwives preparing on the other side of the tub. both of you kneel as you feel the water rising to your waist before he is the one laying down first, tapping his thighs so you can sit down on them.

“i’ve seen you bloody before when you got a nosebleed after i threw the basketball too hard at you and we have showered together before. this definitely will be the highlight of our relationship,” heeseung jokingly said before tugging you into his embrace, feeling your body shaking as another contraction is currently ongoing.

“remember your hee hee hoos, babe,” he whispered to your ear as you nodded, the midwives checking in on you as you are now in active labor.

“i will signal you to push when it is time, miss (l/n). do your breathing exercise,” the midwife says beside you as you see dr. park in her surgeon outfit, ready to help you as best as she can. your tired eyes are now wide open as you feel a surge of force within you from hearing what she said, enough force that turns into strength as you have one mission blaring in your mind.

to deliver your babies as safe as possible.

“okay, when you feel your muscles contracting, count down and push okay?” you nodded your head as you felt heeseung kissing your temple to soothe you. his eyes full of admiration as he can see your face being alive once again. you grunt as you feel the contraction—starting your breathing exercise.

“this one is a push. 1, 2, push.”

you let out a scream as you can feel the movement from underneath you, trying your best to push with your might as you can feel the weird sensation of pushing out like you were called by nature. but this, now this actually hurts.

“good job, two more pushes. ready when you are,” the midwife continues as two of them inspect from the side. heeseung has his lips near your ear. you can hear him whisper.

“they’re almost here, you can do it, (y/n).” his voice sounded so soft, rather low timbre as he helped you relax.

you’ve gone through the next two pushes, and are now on a pause as you awaited your next contraction before pushing again and again. right now, you feel both the most powerful and most helpless you have ever been. everything depends on you and the way your body’s primal instinct kicks in as you just want baby no. 1 to get out. blood has mixed with water as your mucous plug broke making you feel helpless once again because you are the only one being able to deliver the birth. all the others—including the midwives, dr. park, and heeseung—are there to support you in your painful moment. that’s when you feel it, the dreaded ring of fire that haseul has told you about.

you let out such a primal scream that you can feel your voice box getting sore as the ring of fire burns with your skin stretching from it, hearing the midwives and doctor talking about the crowning as heeseung focused on giving you water to drink from behind you. he could only be there as a hand to hold from you, feeling your nails breaking through his skin as he also bleeds. but he has all his focus on you.

the burning hurts so bad but when you feel the big part coming out from one final push, the rest feels like a slug as you see one of the midwives have their gloved hands inside the crimson water. your head leans back against heeseung’s shoulder as he sees the other midwife bringing the surgical scissor when he sees a blurry small silhouette of a grayish being. the other midwife immediately clamps the cord that is hanging out of your canal as you are reminded of how twins share a placenta.

heeseung’s eyes seemed too focused on the small figure being carried away when he felt your trembling body slow as the other midwife pressed her hands up against your belly, feeling if baby 2 was in the right position or not. the midwife gave him a nod as he looked down to see you nearly passed out; your eyes were blurry as you looked at the shining light from above you before it was covered by his face.

“you’re doing so well, baby. one more left,” he said as he eased to pivot your head, letting his lips placed against you as you could feel yourself waking up. that and the loud sound of a baby crying as you and heeseung look towards the source. seeing the crowd opens up as the midwife and dr. park helps examine the baby to see if they’re healthy. he can hear your exasperated laugh as you let out such a wide smile that makes his heart calm, making him rub your bump carefully as he also stares at the location of where his baby is.

the midwife responsible for them approaches you with a bundle in a towel, making your weak body sit up as you carefully position your hands so that she can put the baby into your hold. when you look at them, you can’t control your tears as the midwife helps to push the towel to let your skin touch the baby’s.

“it’s the boy…” the midwife says as the other ones are talking with the doctor about your second twin’s condition. his eyes are open and you can’t help but coo when you look at him, hearing his cry calming down when he senses your skin. the color coming to his skin as you heard heeseung gasp from behind you while you felt your heart beating faster as you watched his little face. heeseung’s head rested on your shoulder as both of you were speechless.

his head nudges to yours as you can feel the familiar contraction building up once again. your head already has one thing in your mind as you stare at baby no. 1. that you are going to deliver his sister as safe and clear as he is.

“she’s sleeping right now.” heeseung said as he turned around to see you sitting with your back leaning against the lifted upper half of the hospital bed, suspending you as you unconsciously hold on to both of your babies who are resting their cheeks against your skin.

your parents and his parents arrived on time when the nurses escorted your sleeping self to your room. heeseung beside the two incubators with a towel around his torso, gazing at the two newborn babies as they move around and wiggle their limbs, seeing their chubby cheeks as they gaze around the room with both confusion and wonder. to see the light outside of your womb for the first time while the nurses and midwives check their conditions and record them as part of society. he sensed his mom’s hand wrapped around his shoulder, hearing her sniffles as she cooed at the baby.

“be patient, dearest. you’ll be brought to your mama soon,” he recalls hearing his mom say while her son can only stare at them, a smile urging to come out as he can feel the tears of joy forming once again.

turning to face the people, he watches the faces of his friends gazing at their new niece and nephew with various versions of happiness—some including tears. he sees ryujin having both arms behind chaeryeong, who is looking giddy, and minjeong, who is snorting into the tissues she’s holding.

“what are their names?” he hears jimin say, seeing his rare pout as he eyes all three of the sleeping figures.

“we’ve decided on it and we named them siwoo and siah,” heeseung replied with the names you and he had chosen together nearly two weeks before their arrival.

“lee siwoo and lee siah…” minjeong mumbles out, hearing the pitch of her voice rising before she weeps once again to her tissue, making ryujin tug her head to the crook of her neck.

“how are you feeling, hee?” jeongin innocently asked before beomgyu cut him off.

“what do you mean ‘how is he feeling’? he’s freaking crying,” the boy pointed out as heeseung sensed the dried tear tracks on his cheeks before another set seem to threaten to fall. yet, it is still vague for them to actually read what they meant.

“aww, heeseung…” chaeryeong coos as heeseung walks to the extra bed beside yours and sits down, rubbing the areas near both of his eyes with his hands as he felt chaeryeong sits beside him and soothing him down with a hand on his back—he now understands why you seem to love chaeryeong’s hugs so much. he bites his bottom lip to hold himself to not let a tear fall again. yet he failed once again when he looks up to see you holding both of your babies in your arms.

“i’m so fucking proud of her and i just feel awful that she’s the only that could feel that immense amount of pain,” he said his truth, wiping the tears with the hand that has a bandage brandishing his lower arm from the scratch you gave him as you gave birth. the only physical evidence of your pain that he can fully feel. chaeryeong’s soothing hand continues to calm him down as he senses another weight sitting by his side when a hand comes to push him closer to that side, smelling the familiar fragrance of beomgyu as he tucks heeseung’s head to his crook while he lightly messaged his arm.

“you’re going to be the best dad, hee,” beomgyu said as he watched the rest of them nodding their head. yet his eyes are stuck to your sleeping form, feeling the spark now catching fire as he had found the light at the end of the tunnel of guilt, shame, and despair for not being there enough for you for the past months and especially today.

to be the same dad for them and the best boyfriend for you.

the same thing couldn’t be said to you as you can feel your mood swinging about when you come home with the babies.

haseul has been helping you within the apartment as she teaches you to use the milk pumper and prepare the breastmilk for them, teaching you various tips to get your pre-pregnancy body back as you felt the belly wrap bound tight around you when you sleep in your shared bed. that’s when the baby monitor turns on when you hear the sound of one of the babies waking you up from the room across yours.

you sit up on the bed, no wick of sleep clear on your face, as heeseung stirs in his sleep when the baby’s cry gets louder from the speaker.

“whose turn is it?” he mumbles, as you stare down at him beside you. you have done graveyard shifts of taking care of your babies numerous times as heeseung couldn’t keep schedule because of his internship. so it is supposed to be his turn now to care for them.

“it’s my turn,” you replied, letting him sleep once again as you heard him hum and slip away into the slumber. his hand reaching to grasp yours before letting out a “good luck” that he has always given to you when it’s your turn to take care of them on the latest of nights.

you step out of your shared bed as you make your way across to the babies’ room to see siah wriggling in her crib, making you walk quickly so that she doesn’t wake her brother up. slowly picking her up, you lift your oversized t-shirt as you brought her lips to one of your nipples.

“come on. latch,” you mumbled as you support siah’s head as best as you can when you felt her latch onto your boob, sucking on the nipples as you feel the milk coming out so she could consume it.

“you’re a hungry, hungry baby, are you?” you lightly nagged her as you stood still, looking at siwoo who was sleeping peacefully with his pacifier even though his sister was crying her heart out. you eyed the room that you and heeseung had decorated as best as you could with the budget you set and your unpredictable schedule of staying here longer or leaving within the year of the rent. in one corner of the room sits the baby gifts people brought to the baby shower. you see the silhouette of the baby car seats you can imagine them using when they’re older so you can take them out and the set pajamas that were bought by heeseung’s family member before you turn to look at the decoration hanging from both of the cribs of animals and stars. another gift from the pile of gifts.

you rested siah’s head on your shoulder and you lightly pat her back, helping her to digest the milk she was drinking—doing everything haseul, mama, heeseung’s mom, and jeongin’s mom have told you. hearing the small burp coming out from her, you wanted to put her down so she could sleep when you sensed her gripping onto your lifted shirt, not wanting to let you go just yet. you sigh as you step to one of their cabinets to find the baby wrap, placing her on the changing station as you wrap the soft, stretchy fabric around your upper body before placing her in her designated slot; securing her legs with the wrap holding onto you tight as taught by haseul who teaches you the right way to use it.

heeseung’s hand reaches for your side, expecting to meet your body or at least your hand in his touch when he feels... nothing.

nothing but your unkept side of the comforter and the creases of the bedsheets as they are the remaining of your being.

he remembered he was woken up by the sound of the baby crying from the monitor. but with it now gone, he was already expecting you to come back to him. yet when he taps more around the surroundings of your supposed side of the bed, his eyes instantly open to see the dark empty space where you should’ve been. he doesn’t care that he has such heavy lids and wobbling steps, he just wants you back in his arms as he sleeps through the night.

opening the door to the babies’s room, he didn’t find your apparatus by the crib soothing one of the babies. heeseung lets his body glide towards the cribs, rubbing the edge of his eyes to make him awake. he eyes siwoo’s crib to find him there, looking like a cute sleepy angel. but he can’t call the same about siah’s as he finds it empty.

“(y/n)?” he calls for you, voice so small with a raspy throat as he didn’t hear your answer, waking him up with a jolt as he realizes that both you and siah aren’t here in the room.

his feet—still wobbly as fuck—brought him to the hallway as his eyes adjust to the dark; seeing the nightlight and his rgb light turned on in the living area helps him to search easier. that’s when he picked up such a clear gush of wind when he turned towards the balcony to see its sheer curtain flowing inside. he then scanned the room to discover one beanbag missing from the other as he approached the window to see it being sat by someone. someone who is sobbing.

drifting the sheer curtain away to the side, heeseung finds the face of his daughter on top of the shaking shoulder wearing a familiar pajama set. head leaning down to the front as the figure adjusts its weight on the beanbag. your hands covering your face as heeseung figures out the sound of the muffled sob coming from you.

“(y/n)?”

you jumped and turned your head around to find heeseung’s alert figure, feeling the weight of siah on you as you wrapped the cloth so tight that it was secure for you to move safely before turning back to gaze at the 3 am sky on the balcony.

“go to sleep. you have work in the morning,” you mumbled out, rubbing your hands against each other.

“i will not sleep if you aren’t,” he answered, joining you as he stepped forward to lean against the railing. the cold wind woke him up as he heard your remaining sniffles, eyes gazing at you as the tranquility seemed to turn your tear’s faucet on once again. he hasn’t noticed just how deep your panda eyes have become, knowing that the babies have awoken you for feeding time at ungodly hours. but that’s when realize how jittery you also become, how you don’t eat as much as you focus on returning your body back to how it was before you’re pregnant; how you can’t seem to define yourself after giving birth.

“i don’t think i’ll be anything other than a mom.”

his ears perk up and he swallows his saliva, processing just how concise yet poignant your words are. reminding him that you have your own perspectives, too.

“i, i don’t know. how can i be anything other than a mom when i’m here, even with all the preparation we've done, still isn’t ready to face it…”

baby blues, he remembered the doula told him as he saw you taking care of the two babies while haseul helped in cleaning the baby bottles up for you.

“you have to be prepared if she got baby blues, heeseung. especially since she’s taking care of two now. she may be hiding some things for you, but you can see it when you see it.”

“how could i help her?” heeseung said, seeing you with siah wrapped with the stretchy cloth on your back as siwoo is currently feeding off of you. a slight glow on your skin as you seem to lightly rock your body to satisfy both of them at the same time.

“help her make time for herself. she is also human with her own mind, body, and soul. help her take care of herself first by taking charge to care for both siah and siwoo.” haseul replied, turning her head so he could see her smirk of acknowledgment—heeseung is one of her students that she is proud of alongside you.

“i know you can.”

“you are also everything including being a mom, (l/n)(y/n),” he spoke, kneeling down beside your figure on the beanbag as he watched your eyes swell.

“you are your parents’ daughter. you are getting a degree in business. you are part of the most chaotic group of friends in the existence of the world. you are a caretaker of so many children who would remember just how fun you are. you’re a guitarist who can keep up and jam out with musicians. you’re a mitski fan who likes to cathartically sing your heart out to her songs. you’re a film watcher and you love japanese movies so much.” heeseung gently grasps both of your chilly hands as he monologues, seeing your swollen eyes closer under the light from the balcony’s ceiling.

“and, you’re my girl. i’m your boy. and i do think you need to embrace that more. let me take care of you.”

you let out a big exhale as a smirk pulls out of you. “if you do, well, take care of me. who would take care of the babies?”

“i would, your parents and my parents would,” he answered, big doe-like eyes trying his best to convince you, “share your burden with me, especially when i’m under your arsenal. i can definitely ask my supervisor to allow me parental leave so i can have time to take care of you and the babies. you can even apply for work-from-home internships during that.”

“then our rivalry will just… stop?” you jokingly asked, but genuinely.

“make it more of like a friendly or romantic rivalry,” he says, leaning upwards as he pecks on siah’s sleeping head on your shoulder. “besides, how could i compete with you if we aren’t on equal terms?”

you hummed as you felt him moving towards your face, kissing your forehead before trailing down to your nose bridge, your eyelids, your cheeks, then your lips—feeling the flattery jump-starting inside you.

“you’re stuck with me now, lee,” you mumbled against his lips, feeling his hand helping you to stand up from the beanbag as he gently held you, foreheads connected as he stared into your eyes that are also sparkling like what the night sky has.

“i’ve been stuck by you for years now and i’ll gladly stick onto you until the fucking heat death of the universe.”

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