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#i guess the only thing that would qualify is like.
demilypyro · 1 day
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It's been fascinating seeing the reaction to the poll. The Destiel fans seem to think their ship deserves to stay popular and relevant just because... it used to be popular and relevant, I guess? Reading these tags has such a flavor of entitlement, it's really something.
It's like they're not realizing that the standards for what qualifies as good representation, or even a good show, have shifted in the last 10 or so years. Not realizing that a lot of people who were here back then, like me, never cared for Supernatural, and don't agree it was important at all, and would not be interested in celebrating it. Not realizing that other fandoms have been happening around them, and that some, like in the case of Mobile Suit Gundam, have legacies that reach back to decades before Supernatural was even on the air.
Destiel is such a product of its time. It's a fanon ship that, as I recall, was strongly disliked by its show's staff, acknowledged only because the fans demanded it so much. The ending of Supernatural was widely mocked, and the show is now mostly remembered as that meme people learn the news through.
Sulemio meanwhile had the full, joyous support of its staff, and was canon since the first episode of Gundam Witch. The whole show's plot revolved around this pairing. The Gundam franchise hit record sales numbers during and after the show. Sulemio brought hundreds if not thousands of new people into the mecha audience, and got many of them interested in the hobby of building Gunpla. Suletta and Miorine being canonically married even stood out politically, because gay marriage is not legal in Japan.
Is this not progress? Is this not worth celebrating? Why cling to the old and busted when the new hotness is doing such great things?
"Be serious", they say. But I am serious. I've been serious the whole time.
Maybe it's not for me to understand.
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goldensunset · 6 months
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what recently has had you vibrating in your boots waiting to be asked about it?
this is such a kind ask and i love that you like to reach out to people like this so i soooo wish i had something real to say in response to it (i’ve waited to respond to it in the hopes that something would come up) but i don’t know if there’s anything truly that i’m particularly itching to be asked about…
i’ve got several big projects planned and i’m really excited for the day i’ll be able to finish them but i don’t really like talking about stuff beforehand (i will frequently allude to there being Something i’m doing but i don’t like sharing wips or even snippets frequently because it’ll ruin the surprise)
i don’t know if there’s anything in particular i’m anticipating? i guess missing link coming out. but again that’s not something i’m ‘vibrating in my boots waiting to be asked about’ because it’s not like it’s my work or anything lol. and i already say all my media thoughts out loud regardless of whether people ask
stuff that i would want to ramble about… i would say my ocs except i’m still not brave enough to really talk about them. it’s hard to put my thoughts into writing and especially as someone who’s really not a writer. it requires such a level of vulnerability it’s really difficult. i for sure will probably never talk about The Main Ones but some of the side ones i’m getting closer to doing something real and presentable with. i’ve shared a bit of them already (just beta designs really) but nothing about the story they’re a part of. but perhaps someday soon!
idk. maybe being asked about them would in fact spark something? i sometimes have a hard time getting my own general thoughts out but a specific question (coupled with the imperative to satisfy another person’s request bc i hate having to push myself to do something but love checking off tasks on a to-do list that’s handed to me) might draw something out of me. but for the time being i’m not encouraging questions because i want to redo/finalize their designs and general personalities and stuff again before i go anywhere with them
generally i hide my thoughts not because i’m afraid of being cringe or annoying other people (i truly could not care less about whether or not anyone wanted something before i post it) but because i insist on making things perfect and excellent before releasing them into the wild. i have to make sure everything gets interpreted by other people the exact way i see and feel it (am i ‘tistic). i need to get my own stuff together you see. you know?
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devilsskettle · 2 months
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i hate that this website has location based ads now like it's one thing to promote the local grocery store chain to me but i am seeing ads for my workplace now :/
#stop it......#i don't want to go back but this is the last sick day i can reasonably take#i probably should've gone back today but i told them when i was still feeling worse that i wasn't coming in.......#ohhhh i dread going in tomorrow so much. i don't even dislike this job i just hate being somewhere everyday#each day feeling its meaninglessness...... my meaninglessness in the space.......... the repetition and redundancy#selling people who don't need to be there things that they don't need#standing all day long just fucking bored#hoping that enough has happened since i've been gone that people can fill me in#ugggh because it's soooo boring but stressful to have to generate conversation with the same people every day#when nothing new ever happens#and i get sick of everybody even the people that i like and i don't really think anybody likes me that much either#i guess i felt this when i worked there part time but because i only had to be there part time it wasn't this constant gnawing feeling#and they didn't have me in the shop all the time....... this schedule is fucking killing me#i walk there i stand all day and i walk home#that's one of the reasons i haven't come back in yet - i was so dizzy and nauseous that the idea of standing all day was like.#i obviously can't fucking do that even if i would otherwise feel well enough to come in#if i had a sitting job then it wouldn't matter if i was a little dizzy#but getting back and forth to work and then standing for 8 hours. even when i'm feeling well it's kind of a lot#idk i guess i'm pretty unhappy with this job and where i am in life etc but i can't quit rn because what else would i do#there's literally job of this type that is going to pay as well and have good benefits#and i'm not qualified yet for the type of work i hope to do in the future#so i just gotta wait it out but it feels like. endless.#sigh anyway i'm just lazy lol#all this is to say. stop putting ads for my workplace on my dash lol i don't need to see all that
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misclogarts · 1 day
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mfw i'm writing questionablepie +strawberry family fluff and bb drops more content for them (it's angst)
#itlogthoughts#inquirer are you okay... girl... say something..........#ok i'd be pretty pissed too if the only place i could relax in was connected to that underground organization that's been a pain in my* ass#for like. a while (*and pretty much everyone else's...? or at least those from the council of magic)#what i wonder though is that considering cherry pie is there there must be other fruit witches (or at least. anyone with an “unimportant”-#-specialty) in their ranks. that being said if the other witch disappearances are also from the everlasting (ie spider witch; lily witch-#-heck even the lemon witch that cherry may or may not have cooked) why are they targeting civilians instead of like. idk their actual targe#i mean giving it more thought it's probably so they can collect power before attempting anything (which makes sense) on the council#but like... do they not feel bad. because they're essentially preying on witches who are already at a disadvantage to the system (which-#-would also technically work in their favor; the council doesn't value them so if they disappeared it would cause minimal issue)#i guess it's a “the end justifies the means” type scenario but i'd hope that if the everlasting does manage to usurp the council of witches#they wouldn't go hungry (ha-ha.) for power and abuse it in the same way they're doing#on a completely unrelated note of all of the people to take on the role of the head of the mind division ... why and how did they pick-#-memorial. i mean he could be qualified for the job or maybe well-loved but going from that one post bb made anything under their managemen#is a total mess in comparison to when philos was the head. that combined with the whole "can't get mad at what you can't remember thing...#i suspect foul play :/#i wonder what button's speciality is because there's no way that they're just a random hire
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captainchokchok · 8 months
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Hate how damn often I get headaches wtffffffff
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boomerang109 · 6 days
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.
#tw disordered eating#no because at what point do I admit to myself that just because it’s wrapped up in a couple extra layers of neurodivergence and sensory#sensitivity at the end of the day I find comfort in not eating and the control of hunger#and like I genuinely don’t have enough energy to get through the day because im simply not eating enough and can’t remember the last time#i have and like at what point do I admit that this is actually a problem#cause like I haven’t seriously looked into a job for the summer cause im like. idk if ill be able to feed myself#but I keep being like ‘oh it’s just an adhd issue’ ‘it’s a meal prep issue’#what if it’s a fear of change issue#what if starving myself is the only goddamn thing I can control in this world even if I don’t admit to myself#i don’t know what to do and I don’t know how to get better#and I have so much shame because I grew up hearing about my mom having an eating disorder in her twenties and it was always like well don’t#worry mom you’re raising me with a better relationship with food so I won’t have that issue#well guess who’s in their twenties and went to one session with a dietician and the dietician was concerned they were malnourished lmao#(i don’t think i checked off enough of the symptoms to actually qualify. but still. the fact that it was a consideration?)#and I just. I literally don’t know where im going to go this summer#because I need someone to teach me how to eat. to teach me how to grocery shop and meal prep and cook#because I KNOW im capable of all those things but no one has ever walked me through all the steps so it’s too scary to me rn to do#but I literally cannot even fathom making anyone put up with my presence for 3 months let alone being like ‘oh also will you help me get#better? cause I’ve tried on my own and it’s just not working’#i just put the tw here but I moved it to the top so people could be warned before reading but#love that I refuse to use anything other than that tag because that would be admitting this was real#im just starving myself and never gained back the weight I lost four years ago from starving myself im sure this is all suuuuuper normal and#just a silly little phase#(fr tho if i need any other tws let me know i don’t wanna trigger anyone)
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albedobeheading · 11 months
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Guys. It’s going to set in soon.
I will be having a mental breakdown VERY soon
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ragazza-paradiso · 1 year
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i feel malta’s and latvia’s already very slim chances of getting out of that semi final have just died with that running order
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evilminji · 8 months
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Okay, as I have mentioned, I'm Ace AF. And you know that plot line in kids cartoons where the alien or foreign Warrior Royalty just sort of *violently kicks down door in full armor* "We Will Marry."? I?? Always said:
"Sure!" (#OhThankFUCK!)
Like what do you mean "No"? The powerful, attractive, monarch that is very into you has travel a great distance JUST to marry you! Now you don't have to date! They seem nice! You can skip the whole "trying to find a life partner" awkwardness.
So, Sudden New Fiancee(tm) how we doing this? Blended customs? Two weddings? One in your peoples traditions, one in mine? Should we invite your family? Tell me more about yourself.
God, this solves just... SO MUCH for me? No having to make small talk. No "do they like me?" Or "am I reading the signs here right?" No failed dates! It's positively ideal! AND they announced why they were qualified, in a VERY impressive show of power and prestige, when they arrived! Good lineage AND accomplished!! Very nice.
Don't get why everyone's so upset.
Sure the "we leave at once" thing that usually follows would have to be discussed, but that's what you DO as spouses. Really guys, it's like you think I'm incapable of common sense here.
And you know who probably agrees with me? Damian Wayne.
Hell is other people, INDEED. You expect him to just... randomly go up to people and try Courting them? What do you MEAN it's "creepy" to compile portfolios on eligible individuals of worthy bloodlines? How ELSE is he supposed to know if they are worth attempting to talk too?!
There are BILLIONS of humans on this gods forsaken rock, Richard! Is he supposed to just GUESS? Gamble and hope for LUCK? This is a MARRIAGE not a "best friends club"!
Then? Danny showes up.
Gotham heard her baby talking. Heard her KING being harassed by clearly plotting Observants and power hungry ghosts MANY times his age. Connected some dots. Formed themselves a new OTP.
Danny says "Fuck It". Worst he can say is No. According to Gotham, he is neither Shy not the meek obedient sort. Is in fact, VERY stabby. So if he's not interested he'll no doubt be BRUTALLY clear about that.
So? Danny gets Fright Knight. Go get him a horse. Someone fetch Cujo some armor. He's been told the guy like weapons and animals.
TIME TO BE IMPRESSIVE.
He goes FULL Regalia. Armor of solid night sky. Cape of frost and stardust. Crown like crack in reality itself, through which the cosmos gleam and shift. He gets a horse from the far frozen. They're wooly and carnivorous. Gets THE most impressive sword he can find to wear.
It's gonna be a gift, since he doesn't need it.
He does the whole "rend the skies open" thing. Fan fair and knights. Every title he's ever been given, no matter how embarrassing he find them in reality. And announces his intentions. Declares that ONLY Damian Wayne, aka. Robin, is WORTHY to Marry Him. And (in the traditional Ghost proposal of "either accept or tell me to fuck off" /w violence) Demands Damian accept his offer of Marriage.
Right there.
IN THE WATCHTOWER.
In front of EVERYBODY. And yes, ESPECIALLY the Bats. Who are making glitching, vaguely threatening DEMONIC NOISES. Because? You... you THREATEN the BABY? Death. Ten thousand years DEATH.
People are :O ing and backing away from the visible heatwave of unadulterated FURY being put off by Batman. Danny is nano-second from every bone his ANCESTORS had being reduced to a fine paste.
Then? Damian consider him... considers the sword being thrust in his direction, still held aloft in a steady and armored hand... contemplates those titles for a second...
And goes: "Acceptable. Very well, but I have demands."
N..... Nani the FUCK? Says local Bat-Dad. No??? You are NOT GETTING MARRIED.
Try to stop him. He very obviously IS, according to Damian, the man brought him a kick ass sword and has a giant green dog. Is the king of an ENTIRE REALITY. Yes, he realizes he probably COULD do better... but frankly? This one's cute. But if it upset you so... extended engagement. There. Happy?
NO! Because the JLA Dark are LOSING THEIR SHIT. Damian is still UNDERAGE. We don't even know how OLD this being is! NO MARRIAGE.
Damian is unimpressed. A whole six months? That he's likely already LIVED thanks to various timeloops, temporal shenanigans, and reality warping bits of fuckery? You're reaching.
Just? Marriage Meet Cute.
@hdgnj @ailithnight @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe
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tunafruitt · 3 months
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--> ||❝ The Creator has a.. LOVER?! ❞
SAGAU || Warnings: fluff, gender neutral reader
[ The people of Teyvat find out their grace has been romantically involved with someone for a while now.. what do they think about it? ]
Character(s): NEUVILLETTE, ZHONGLI
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-> [ NEUVILLETTE ]
“Oh, the Iudex of Fontaine is the creator’s chosen suitor? Okay.. He’s a qualified and accomplished man. I can see why the creator chose someone like him.”
With the one and only hydro dragon sovereign stuck to your side at all times, it was no surprise to anyone that the two of you had gotten close. But the creator falling in love with him?? That’s different.
Of course, the people of Teyvat had all wished to have a chance with you. And of course, everyone knew it was impossible… but hope is a good thing right? They knew the day would come though, just not so soon..
When the people found out that the Creator had someone they loved more than the usual “I love all of Teyvat equally and platonically.” EVERYONE WENT CRAZY. What do you mean the creator has a LOVER? What do you mean they’ve probably kissed. WHAT DO YOU MEAN ITS THE IUDEX OF FONTAINE????
Nevertheless, no one was actually disappointed. They had heard you talk about him through the screen even before you descended to Teyvat. They were glad you were happy… I guess (though they wish it was with them.) Fontaine obviously took pride in having the creator spend a lot of their time residing there, even more pride in the fact that you were romantically involved with a citizen of Fontaine.
─━━ ꯭  ───ׂ─ִ─  ͜͡✿͜͡  ─ִ──ׂ──  ꯭  ━━ִ─
Neuvillette wasn’t quite sure how to react to all of the publicity the news had gotten. Every time the two of you go out together he feels the stares coming from the people around you. The stares weren’t the usual stares he got when he was doing a court trial.. they felt new to him. He was glad that he was at least able to say more affectionate words to you out in public though!
“Monsieur Neuvillette! I’ve heard the recent news.. haha.. so, how’s it being with the Creator? Bet you feel real lucky, huh.“
“I would consider myself lucky to be with Y/N. I feel that no amount of love give—“
“Y/N???? I-I MEAN— YOU’RE ON A FIRST NAME BASIS WITH YOUR GRACE?!”
“I am. Now, if I may continue…”
When he’s not actively working and someone asks him about you, he could yap about you for HOURS. So much to the point people avoid bringing you up even in non-professional events. He’s literally lovestruck. Heart eyes when he looks at you and everything. (everyone’s secretly side-eyeing him… out of jealousy.)
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-> [ ZHONGLI ]
“Hm.. The Wangsheng Funeral Consultant..? He is quite a handsome man, but is that all? Of course we respect him! It’s just that.. I expected the Creator’s suitor to be an Archon or something. But if that’s what the creator wants, we should respect their choice right?”
The people of Liyue had begun to put the pieces together. No wonder you were always visiting the Funeral Parlor.. wait, were the times that the both of you were spotted together at Iron Tongue Tian’s Stall listening to the telling of old stories.. DATES?? How could they have only just now realized…
Well, now that the news is out at least you can comfortably hold his hand outside of the Parlor! Not everyone is completely happy with this though.. Who might that be? The other archons of course! They all took pride in being among some of the closest beings in Teyvat to you, but now that they weren’t all equally close to you, feelings of jealousy began to rise.
Zhongli secretly felt smug about that though. I mean, of course anyone would. Being the Creator’s lover is probably the biggest flex in all of Teyvat!! Only certain people are able to even be close to the Creator, not to mention TOUCH them. (which are the playable characters.) Oh, and doing affectionate things like lovers do WITH THE CREATOR?? The things people would do to be in Zhongli’s place.
─━━ ꯭  ───ׂ─ִ─  ͜͡✿͜͡  ─ִ──ׂ──  ꯭  ━━ִ─
You and Zhongli were taking a walk in the city of Liyue as you always do. There was a cool breeze and the orange lights coming from the food stalls gave the atmosphere a comfortable, warm feeling. You looked back at Zhongli who had already been staring at you. He’s about to put his arms around you when out of nowhere—
“Your Grace! Fancy seeing you here.. ehe. Are you here for the Lantern Rite? Oh! You should come to the Windblume Festival again! We’ll make sure to make it extraaa special, just for you. Speaking of special— There’s a new wine back in Mondstadt made specially from the freshest dandelio—“
“Hello, Venti.”
“Oh. Hello Mr. Zhongli. Are you busy right now? If not, the Funeral Parlor is calling for you. You should probably go.”
“The Funeral Parlor is closed today, Venti.”
lmao archons actively trying to get you to spend time with them instead of Zhongli. (They can’t stand to see you hugging, holding hands, and doing all kinds of sappy activities with him)
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AGHHH SECOND WRITING EVER!! Had fun ^_^ might do a part 2 with Itto and Xiao (or other characters) feel free to leave recommendations for any other characters!! Likes nd reblogs are much appreciated ^_^
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theminecraftbee · 3 months
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“Mumbo, I think Grian and Gem are possessed!”
Scar bursts through the door of the iron farm is building rather suddenly. This is indeed rather impressive, on account of the iron farm not having a door. Mumbo wonders if Scar put on there for dramatic effect, or if bursting into a space while shouting manifests door-like qualities, or maybe if he forgot he’d placed an entirely unnecessary door down. It’s almost as unnecessary as the iron farm, given Grian still hasn’t forgiven him for the whole ‘trying to see how far he can make Grian go to trade permits’ thing, and—
“Mumbo, you aren’t paying attention! I think Grian and Gem are possessed!” Scar says, distressed.
“What? Er, I mean, yes, we’d all rather noticed, hadn’t we?” Mumbo says. “Really don’t know why you’re panicking about it. Bit old, that news is.”
“Why didn’t anyone tell me!” Scar says, making a dramatic hand motion. “It’s terrible! My builds, Mumbo! My beautiful train! I live right next to both of them! Oh, oh, my beautiful train!”
Mumbo squints. “Well that’s a bit rude. Grian was possessed last season and you were perfectly fine putting your base next to him then.”
“It was different, Mumbo! Oh, sure, he had a rock that ate bases, but not with him! And it only barely moved without asking. And the Rift, well, that didn’t move! That didn’t eat parts of my build! Mumbo, do you know how long it takes to make a train design real enough that builder’s magic will actually take to it these days? Standards are so high!”
“Ah. Is the ocean eating bases now? Because if so I admit that’s a little concerning.” Mumbo says, mentally trying to decide how to heist the prismarine permit into Grian’s inventory so he doesn’t have to deal with a self-destroying guardian farm. That would just be silly. He can destroy and rebuild a slime farm every other day, sure, but a guardian farm? Where would he keep the sponges!
Scar has conspicuously stopped talking, Mumbo realizes.
“Um,” Mumbo says.
“I said, why would the ocean eat bases?” Scar helpfully repeats.
“Well, you just said the thing possessing Grian and Gem might eat your train,” Mumbo says.
“What? Why would I be talking about the ocean? Mumbo, you said this was old news!” Scar says.
“That’s because it is! Gem was talking about getting the ocean to possess her even before we got here! It was her whole plan, some kind of spooky boat thing! I was really quite surprised you’d missed it!” Mumbo says.
“Why would I be talking about that? Psssh. That’s old news,” Scar says.
“That’s what I said!” Mumbo says.
“Anyway, I don’t know why you’re bringing our fishy overlords into this. I was talking about the snails.”
Mumbo’s thoughts crash to a blessedly silent halt.
“The what?”
“The snails that are eating everything. I think they’re possessing Grian and Gem.”
“There are snails that are eating everything?”
“Yes! That’s why I’m panicking!”
“Well great, now I’m panicking too! Why didn’t you just say so?”
“I did!”
Mumbo looks back at his iron farm. “Scar, what if they eat this before I realize how pointless it all was? Snails are small! I wouldn’t even notice until the zombie turned into a little pile of smoldering flesh! Why are Grian and Gem possessed by snails, they were supposed to be possessed by the ocean!”
“I don’t know,” Scar says. “Mumbo. Mumbo you have to help.”
“How! I’m not qualified for this!” Mumbo says. “People always assume, oh you’ve known Grian forever, surely you’re qualified, but I’m not! I have a weak will, Scar, he doesn’t even have to bother possessing me before I go along with his schemes! And Gem is possessed too? Count me right out.”
Scar frowns. “Oh. I didn’t think you’d stop Grian. I wanted your help getting our own snails to be possessed by.”
“Why?”
Scar thinks for a moment. Scar shrugs.
“Yeah, you know what, fine,” Mumbo says. “Makes more sense than this iron farm. Um, I guess we build a snail shrine now? I have to say, very strange that this whole cult thing keeps happening to me.”
The two of them put their heads together and start planning. If they’re all going to be overtaken by snails, Mumbo figures, best to get a head start. Maybe then he’ll even get an excuse to start the unnecessary gold farm in the process.
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lqvesoph · 7 months
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There‘s no place I‘d rather be - LN4
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gif by @princemick
lando norris x sainz!reader
summary: after a tricky qualifying session, you go to comfort your secret boyfriend
a/n: inspired by today’s quali in qatar
taglist | masterlist
Your heart broke when you heard Lando‘s radio message through your red headphones.
"It will get deleted", your brother spoke next to you and you looked up. "He was off at Turn 14", Carlos sighed and your heart sack further.
Lando will be so disappointed, was the only thing on your mind.
"I‘ll be back soon", you mumbled, put the headphones down and hurried out of the Ferrari garage. The paddock was quite full, especially now after qualifying but you managed to make your way to the Mclaren hospitality, slipping in before anyone could notice.
You‘ve never been inside here so you could only assume where the drivers rooms were but it did look kinda similar to Ferrari‘s hospitality.
"Y/n? What are you doing here?", a voice asked behind you, making you whip around. Oscar stood in the hallway, his race suit hanging low on his hips, with his bottle in one hand.
"Uhm- could you please show me where… Lando‘s room is?", you asked, unsure of how the 22 year old was gonna react.
A smirk found its way on Oscar‘s face. "Lando said he’s with someone from the paddock, I just never imagined it‘d be you", he grinned and shook his head.
Your eyes fell to the floor. Lando and you had agreed to hide your fairly new relationship for a while because both of you knew, that your brother would be very hard to convince.
"Follow me", Oscar smiled and waved you to him. He led you up a flight of stairs before making a left turn that led into a white painted hallway.
"This one is Lando‘s", he said and pointed at the right door. "Thank you so much, Oscar!", you gratefully spoke. Before you pushed the handle down you turned around again.
"Could you maybe not… tell anyone I was here and that Lando and me-", you asked but was interrupted by Oscar. "Don‘t worry, my lips are sealed. And I don’t really feel like getting caught up in this when your brother finds out", he chuckled.
"Thank you", you smiled and quietly pushed down the handle to open the door.
Lando sat on the couch, his head in one hand while looking at his phone.
"Baby?", you spoke, making his head shoot up. "What are you- How did you-", he stammered. You quickly made your way over to him, sitting down next to Lando and taking his phone out of his hands. With one glance you saw the layout of Twitter, so you exited the app and turned the phone off.
"We don’t look at that", you reminded him before pulling your boy into a tight hug. Lando’s head fell to your chest and his eyes fluttered closed. He took a deep breath, inhaling your scent.
"I heard your radio and wanted to see you", you started answering his earlier questions. "I‘ve never been in here before so I had no idea where to go but Oscar found me and led me here."
Lando huffed. "Guess the secret‘s out", he muttered. "Come on, you told him everything apart from the fact it’s me", you chuckled and squeezed his shoulder teasingly. A small smile formed on Lando’s lips, making your heart skip a beat.
"Okay, guilty", he whispered. "He won’t say anything", you told him. "However I don’t know if Carlos caught on. We were watching Q3 together and I basically hurried out after he told me they‘ll delete your lap", you recalled recent events.
"He’s not smart enough to connect that", Lando fired back at his friend, which made you chuckle.
"Thank you for being here", he got serious again. "Means a lot!"
You smiled and pressed a kiss to his messy and sweaty curls. "Trust me, there’s no place I‘d rather be!"
Taglist
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@mehrmonga @f1lover55
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lisired · 1 month
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supermodel
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pairing: photographer!haechan x (f) model!reader
genre/warnings: smut, angst, hollywood!au, photographer!haechan, model!reader, descriptions of vomiting, fluff, unsolicited comments, mentions of alcohol use (not while expectant)
summary: Five years ago, you left your hometown and ex to recreate your identity in California. Now, you're a staple of the fashion industry and on the front cover of magazines everywhere. Your hard work has paid off, but when you realize that you might be pregnant, you have to decide whether you want to be a full-time model or a full-time mother.
word count: 23k
a/n: at last, here she is! thank you for your patience, i know it was a long wait. this is a sequel to love jones. as always, feedback is appreciated!
Smiling from ear to ear, the giddy butterflies in the pit of your stomach just wouldn’t leave. Given that they’d been there for five years, it was safe to assume they never would. 
Five years of romance. To celebrate, you and your boyfriend decided on cooking your own dinner at home. Your boyfriend was not a qualified cook (a couple of incidents and he was strictly prohibited and sidelined from food preparation duties) which made the night both fun and a nightmare. 
When Haechan asked you for dinner suggestions, you were very adamant that you wanted lobster. Which surprised him, given that you’d been to a handful of seafood restaurants and you never expressed a taste for lobster, though he reckoned you wanted to be fancy for your five-year anniversary. 
“Baby,” you whined. “Is it just me, or is it really hot in here?”
“It’s hot because you’re here,” Haechan flirted in a heartbeat. Some things never changed. 
You rolled your eyes, whining, “Seriously. Aren’t you about to burn up? I feel like I’m going to die.”
“Only thing I feel like I might die of is hypothermia. If anything, it’s kinda cold to me, baby.”
You frowned, finding that questionably odd. You had already taken off his insulating leather jacket, left in nothing but a tank top, and you didn’t want to remove any other layers in fear of getting lobster juice all over yourself. Maybe it was a metabolism thing. 
Haechan pointed to your wine glass with his own. “Aren’t you going to drink that? You always want wine.”
Glancing down, you noticed your filled wine glass that you had hardly touched. Even when you were out celebrating with your agent and a couple of other staff, you declined the offer for wine. Your agent was shocked. She knew you loved to get wine drunk. “Not really in the mood.”
If your boyfriend thought that something was out of the ordinary, he didn’t say anything. 
After a while, you started to forget about your suspicious behavior. Time quickly lost its meaning as you chatted with Haechan, running your mouths like the two people who never shut up that you were. To this day you still perfectly matched each other’s energy. Five years down, a lifetime left to go. 
You were twenty-six now, Haechan twenty-eight. Though your grandmother liked to joke that you were catching up to her, sometimes you didn’t feel like you were pushing thirty. Notably when you were with Haechan. His ability to make you feel like a teenager in love needed to be studied.  
In those five years, not only had you developed your relationship with the love of your life, but you also made your name known within the industry. Of course, your success wasn’t without a couple of setbacks and near career-ending allegations, but you somehow came out on top in the end. 
Haechan also had a lucrative career. From being hired to take pictures of lowkey performers on tour to becoming a chief photographer with his own studio that worked with wealthy media moguls, he had obviously come extremely far. And he was only getting more popular amongst affluent patrons. 
All in the span of five years. You never would have guessed. Five years ago, you lived in a condo downtown. Now, you lived in a comfortable house with Haechan and you couldn’t be happier. 
Out of nowhere, you started to feel as if you were going to be sick. You stood from the table, muttering “bathroom” when your boyfriend tossed you a baffled look. 
Haechan let you be. He figured you just had to pee. You were doing that more often for whatever reason. 
Though you tried to be indifferent about the sudden involuntary motions in your stomach, you were quick to make a beeline for the bathroom in fear of vomiting all over the floor. 
You headed straight for the toilet and kneeled on the floor, bracing your hands on the seat while you retched and dry-heaved into the bowl. Your mouth felt almost painfully dry afterwards and all you could taste was the scorching feeling of bile. 
This was absolutely ridiculous and you didn’t understand what was happening to you. Though you weren’t particularly a fan of lobster, you could usually handle seafood. Maybe having Haechan help you cook wasn’t the smartest idea. 
Speak of the devil, he called from the other side of the door, “Baby, you good in there?”
“Uh, no,” you muttered just loud enough for his ears. 
Haechan’s voice sounded alarmed. “What’s wrong?”
Wincing at the sight of greenish-yellow vomit, you flushed the toilet and stood to vigorously wash your hands. “I kinda threw up.”
“What? Was it something you ate? Baby, I love your cooking, but I’ve been trying to tell you that all that butter is not good for your stomach.”
“I really don’t think that’s the problem,” you droned irritably. 
Haechan joked, “What - are you pregnant or something?”
Something about those words made you freeze right in the middle of drying your hands with paper towels. Pregnant, you realized. It was all coming back to you. Haechan fucked you raw not too long ago. And you couldn’t remember the last time you had a period. 
Silence was never a good thing for either of you and the worry was evident in Haechan’s voice. “Baby, you’re not actually pregnant. Right?”
Your eyes were wide as you exclaimed, “I don’t know!”
“Can I come in?”
“Yeah,” you said shakily. 
The door opened, Haechan revealing himself. He was quick to notice the panic on your face and grabbed your hand in his, crooning, “Baby, talk to me. What’s going on?”
You inhaled a deep breath through your nose, exhaling one large puff of air. “Okay, remember I had my IUD removed?”
Haechan’s brows furrowed. “Uh huh.”
“And then I went off the pill because they were giving me migraines,” you added frantically. 
“Yeah, so we started using condoms.”
“Right,” you said, nodding your head. “But that one time we ran out…”
Haechan continued, “And you begged me to fuck you anyway?”
“That’s not the point,” you hissed. “The point is we had sex without a condom, I don’t remember having a period, and now I’m puking everywhere.”
“Well, if two plus two equals four…,” Haechan trailed. 
You snapped, “Can you be serious for once?”
Haechan grabbed your wrist, kissing the back of your hand tenderly to console you. “I am being serious. I think we should buy a pregnancy test or ten. Just to be certain.”
You reminded, “It’s late. All the pharmacies are closed.”
“Then, we go first thing tomorrow,” was Haechan’s solution. 
His touches were enough to ease your mind for a little. You nodded in acceptance, taking a deep breath and closing your eyes. This was a frightening moment and you were glad that you weren’t alone. 
As soon as the following day, you and Haechan were on your way to a local pharmacy on his motorbike. His red motorbike, might you add. Though the sleek black one was directly involved in a number of good memories, one too many stunts had maimed her. You surprised him with another one for his birthday last year and he fell in love without a second thought. 
The pharmacy was busy at this hour. Though Haechan’s suggestion of getting ten pregnancy tests was somewhat dramatic, you did make sure to grab a couple packs of two. It was better to be safe than sorry, after all. 
You rushed to the bathroom the second you were back home, telling Haechan you would be back after a moment to tell him the results. You were clear that he waited outside the door. Your brain amassed hectic thought after hectic thought and it was driving you crazy. 
Over the next couple of minutes, you sat antsily on the toilet lid and waited. According to the instructions on the box, your fate would be decided in as little as a few minutes. If you waited too long, your results could display inaccuracies. 
You were just so scared. If you were pregnant, that could change everything. Your nerves were worked and you could feel the stress in your shoulders as much as you tried to feign a semblance of order. 
When the three minutes were up, you braced yourself with one big breath and found the courage to check the lines. 
You sucked in a breath. Not a single one was negative. 
“Oh my god,” you gasped. 
“What’s wrong?” Haechan asked frantically, leaning against the door. This was just as nerve-racking for him as it was for you. 
“They’re positive,” you exclaimed. “All four of them!”
That was Haechan’s cue to open the door, immediately grabbing a hold of you. You looked like your weight would drop to the floor any second now. “Okay, babe. Breathe,” he whispered. 
You braced your hands on the counter. “I can’t. This is too much.”
“Sit,” Haechan said, holding you steadily in his arms. Like hell he would let you go in a time like this. 
You sat on the fluffy toilet lid again, your head spinning. Nothing could describe how light your limbs felt in that moment. Or your head. 
“There’s a one percent chance they’re wrong,” Haechan told you in reminder. 
You shook your head. “Really? You think all four of them are wrong?”
Haechan took your tone in stride. “That’s not what I said. What I meant is I think you should contact your doctor. We can’t be too sure.”
Well, you couldn’t argue with that logic. It was the obvious thing to do. The second you calmed down enough to speak without shaky breath you called your health care provider and scheduled an appointment with your physician. 
In a couple of days, you met with your primary physician, Haechan insisting that he wanted to be there. You made no argument. This baby was his just as much as it was yours and he made it a point to remind you that he wanted to be a part of every second. 
For half an hour, the nurse's kind words in between constant beeps as she asked you for medical information was all you heard while your thoughts waged war. Even the faint chatter from the small TV mounted in the corner of the room didn’t register. 
Footsteps jolted you out of your thoughts for a moment and you were a little more at ease when your doctor finally entered the patient room. There was a fleeting, kind greeting and she recounted your concerns as you’d briefed them over the phone just to be sure she was correct. 
It was the most tense moment of your life. Had you not been holding Haechan’s fingers with one hand and bracing the chair with the other, you would have been chewing your nails. 
After a couple of non-invasive tests, a suspenseful few minutes, and a transvaginal prenatal ultrasound, it was concluded that you were seven weeks pregnant. The whole room was reeling. Your doctor told you that she would have to run a few scans to ensure that you weren’t exposed to a high-risk pregnancy, but you could decide within two weeks if you wanted to terminate through medication. 
Not only were you seven weeks pregnant, but seven weeks pregnant with dizygotic twins. Non-identical, your doctor explained. If you preferred, you could come back in three weeks to determine the sex. 
“Twins,” you rasped. “Two babies. Wow.”
Sitting in your car, you gripped the seatbelt with your life. Haechan insisted that you take your car instead of his bike considering that you were more than likely pregnant, and since he didn’t know the risks associated with pregnant mothers on a motorbike, he decided it was better to play it safe. 
Though your doctor revealed that minimum travel within the first few months of your pregnancy was generally not a threat unless you were going a lengthy distance. Much to your boyfriend’s happiness.  
It was quiet while you two sat in the parking lot, save for the Mark Lee song playing faintly on the radio. He was grammy-nominated now. 
There was a long pause before you could speak. Haechan was the same, looking paler than usual. You almost couldn’t breathe. Your head was still stuck in that neutral-toned hospital room and the scent of antiseptics still wafted through your nostrils. 
The whole parking lot was upside down as you fretted, “I’m pregnant. Oh my god. Wow. I’m pregnant!”
“Hey,” Haechan started, reaching over the center console and grabbing your hands in his. There was another pause before he continued speaking. “We’re pregnant.”
Your eyes flickered. Then, you burst into laughter. That was the last thing you expected him to say. 
Haechan was grinning, glad that he could make you laugh even if it was just for a moment. Your doctor was clear that stress was very harmful for the kids. “I’m serious!”
“Okay,” you replied. Though you were still giggling. “We’re pregnant.”
“You better know.”
You sighed, leaning against the door window. The ultrasound displayed not one, but two tiny embryos currently sharing your uterus. And they were only growing. 
Handing the ultrasound to Haechan, you let it all sink in, starting, “When I was twenty-one, pregnancy was the last thing on my agenda. Jae wanted to slow down, but I didn’t want to stop. I was just getting started. I mean, I still am, it’s only been five years.”
Haechan flinched at the mention of your ex. It was rare that you brought him up in conversation. For good reason. “And you’ve still accomplished so much.”
“Yeah, but I wanna accomplish more. If I have a baby, I have to take a break from the grind to be a mother. And god forbid I let somebody else raise my kids,” you grumbled. 
Haechan quickly saw what the problem was. “Okay, baby, stop. This isn’t the end. You’re pregnant, but that doesn’t mean you become my housewife and die. I wouldn’t ever try to put the brakes on you.”
“I know, but…”
“Listen,” he said. “We can always make more babies another time. Your life isn’t over.”
You huffed, “I have, like, four years before that ship sails and it’s in god’s hands.”
“Anything could happen in four years.”
You heaved another breath. “True,” you replied. Even two years from now you could decide that you wanted to settle down. 
It just felt like there was so much at stake. You were a model, for fuck’s sake. Very much a celebrity. Not only did you love your job and having two babies mean you would have less time to devote to yourself, but everyone would be watching them the same way they watched you. 
When you went out, there was guaranteed to be a camera not far behind. You couldn’t even get lunch with a friend without being borderline stalked wherever you went. Masks and disguises barely helped.
Anybody that was a friend of yours was a friend of the media. Your whole life was on the internet and there was always a magnifying glass being held close to your face. Every second of your life you were being examined and judged by people who didn’t even know you. Expectations were a constant weight on your shoulders. 
“If I have these kids, I don’t want them to grow up in the eyes of the media,” you started sternly. “I subject myself to judgment and scrutiny every day I step out of my house. Babies don’t deserve that.”
Haechan bobbed his head in agreement. “Then, I watch them. And if I’m busy, then we get a babysitter.”
You huffed, “And trust a stranger with our child?”
The look of horror on Haechan’s face immediately declined that offer. “I’ve got family here. We can pay my cousin or something. Look, baby, we’ll figure this out. Together.”
You squeezed his hand, stifling tears. There was so much weight on your heart. It was almost suffocating until you remembered that you weren’t alone.
For the next couple of weeks, you mulled the decision over. You didn’t tell anyone that you were pregnant - not even your grandmother or Haechan’s parents, who referred to themselves as your in-laws, even though you and Haechan weren’t married. 
That thought tickled something in your brain. Marriage, you hypothesized. And a family. Deep down inside, it was something you always wanted, but you never knew when. You always figured the day would come where you would just know. 
That day had come. 
It isn’t the end of the world, you consoled, having had time to be reasonable with yourself. You were far enough in your career where it wouldn’t weaken your income if you took some time to be lowkey. Haechan, the brainiac that he was, even suggested you endorse baby products. 
Everything felt so earth-shattering to you that you’d been confused into thinking weighing your options meant you only had one choice. Your mind was quick to wander, wondering if that was a symptom of carrying a developing baby. 
You breathed easier when it finally hit you that you didn’t have to choose between the career you loved and starting a family with the man you loved. Because you wanted both and you would have both. Even if it was in moderate amounts. 
At ten weeks, you were back in the doctor’s office to determine the sex of your babies. Haechan was hoping for boys while you were hoping for girls. Imagine your shock when Doctor Stakes congratulated you on carrying a boy and girl. 
By the end of the first trimester, you decided that you would be keeping the babies and your career. Haechan was both over the moon and a little anxious knowing that he would be a first-time father. Neither of you knew what you were doing and that made it as scary as it was exciting. 
Still, nobody knew. Outside of your symptoms, it wasn’t too obvious. Your baby bump wasn’t very big yet. 
“No smoking, no drinking, no hot tubs or saunas, moderate caffeine intake, no raw seafood,” you grumbled, recalling Doctor Stakes’ very detailed explanations of what was and was not healthy during your pregnancy. 
“Well,” Haechan started, plopping down on your shared mattress. “She did say we could still have lots of sex.”
You immediately rolled your eyes. “I believe her exact words were sex will not hurt our babies as long as my pregnancy is without health complications and I don’t start to experience bleeding, high blood pressure, and premature contractions.”
Haechan gently grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap, retorting, “You look fine to me. How do you feel?”
“Good,” you sighed, getting comfortable on his thighs. “Different, but not bad different. Good.”
Haechan leaned into your ear and purred, “Which translates into good for lots of sex.”
You playfully hit him, pretending to be irritated. You knew he was only kidding. Kind of. 
Doctor Stakes was straightforward but thorough in her explanations, walking you through the route of pregnancy with more than a couple of recommendations prioritizing the best potential health of you and your unborn babies. She said that sex was perfectly fine during the first five through six months. Something about your babies being cushioned by your abdomen and amniotic sac fluid.
Whatever the hell that is, you remembered thinking. She also suggested you enroll in a parenting class just so that you knew what to expect. It was not rare for first-time parents to take them and they were apparently super helpful. 
It seemed strict, but you knew it was best for your children’s development, especially in the early stages. Though you would miss the freedom of your old life. “I kind of miss alcohol just because I can’t have it.”
“I’m not giving you any,” Haechan said, voice stern. 
You snorted. “I wasn’t asking. I’m not an idiot. It’s just… this is my life now. It’s gonna be hard.”
Kissing your cheek tenderly, Haechan replied, “Well, if you can’t drink, I won’t drink either.”
That surprised you and you wanted to know if he was joking or not. “Seriously?”
“Duh,” Haechan said. “Like I said, we’re pregnant. Anything you can’t have, shit, I can’t have it either. I guess we’re both abstaining.”
“You don’t have to,” you whispered, though you liked the idea of him doing it anyway. It made your heart flutter. 
Haechan shrugged. “Yeah, but I would feel like a dickhead for enjoying things that I know you can’t have right in your face. Besides, my liver is probably screaming ‘thank god.’”
You snickered, bringing your lips to his. That turned you on. You couldn’t even explain it. There was just something so hot and attractive about the words leaving his mouth and you decided you wanted him. 
Letting your eyes flutter closed, you quickly tangled yourself in thoughts of him and him only; like a stimulant that only got more lethal with every hit. Sometimes it did feel that way. Like pleasure of this magnitude was too mind-numbing to be free. 
Innocent touches became gestures of desperation. Haechan kissed you like he couldn’t get enough, hands zipping to your tender breasts while you looped your arms around his neck. He somehow only got better at kissing. You didn’t even know how that could happen. 
Almost like you brought out the best in each other. 
“Fuck,” you groaned, eyes snapping open. 
Haechan instantly noticed and was quick to halt his actions in case he was causing you discomfort. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”
You shook your head. “No, it’s just my boobs… They’re a little sore.”
Haechan chirped, “Nothing I can’t take care of.”
You giggled when he carefully lowered your weight onto the bed, lifting your shirt above your head and quickly getting rid of your bra. A moan left you when he caught a nipple in his mouth, gently kneading the other one in his hand. 
There was something so addictive about the feeling of your boyfriend’s warm mouth on your body. You couldn’t help but exhale and moan, just comforted by the fact that he was supplying you warmth. His hands wandered, too, always soft and tender. Whatever moisturizer he was using was doing god’s work. 
“Babe,” you sighed out. Both your mind and body were relaxed and that was exactly what you needed, all things considered. 
His tongue passed over your erect nipples, feeling them harden at his touch. Your boyfriend’s goal was to make you feel completely worshiped and he was doing a great job, for lack of a better word. Given that you were the one responsible for carrying and birthing two babies, he concluded that god could only be a woman. 
But you were getting way too worked up and it was driving you to the edge. “Baby,” you called. “I want more.”
There was an erotic wet sound when Haechan pulled away from your boobs. “Are you sure? I was just kidding about the whole sex thing earlier.”
“No you weren’t.”
“No I wasn’t.”
You snorted. Classic Haechan. 
Haechan quickly sobered again, whispering, “But I still wanna make sure this is what you want.”
You appreciated his concern, but the longer you waited, the quicker the heat pulsed between your legs and you couldn’t shake it anymore. “Haechan, I literally could not be more sure when I say I need your cock inside me.”
King of playing it cool that he was, Haechan pretended that those words weren’t like throwing gasoline on a field of already blazing thoughts. At least until he got inside you. Then, he had no thoughts. Brain empty. And he couldn’t help but bare his soul to you. 
Pussy made him talk. There was absolutely nothing that he could hide when he was balls deep inside you. 
Haechan shifted between your thighs, thanking god that you decided to wear a skirt today. His patience was wearing thin by the second and knowing how much you wanted him only strengthened his need. 
You could only feel your heart thumping and his body heat wafting over you. Other things seemed so much smaller and irrelevant than they were. 
Your panties came off with a yank and your glistening folds had Haechan’s undivided attention. “Shit, you’re so wet. I didn’t even do anything,” he said marvelously. 
“Shut up,” you huffed, though it wasn’t sincere. Little things about him being committed to being a father turned you on. He didn’t understand how scary it was to be alone. 
Haechan chuckled. “As you wish.”
You knew it wouldn’t be too long before he opened his mouth again and you weren’t complaining. 
Overcome with want and the need to do something, you lifted yourself up and crawled towards Haechan to help him undress his pants down his legs. Haechan let you do as much, but the second his bare cock was out, he was gently pushing you back down.
You pouted, lips tucking out. “I wanna do something.”
When you were comfortably on your back, Haechan started to rub his cock. “No,” he said, borderline teasing. “You can lay here and let me take care of you.”
His cock had your attention, your eyes fixed to how hard he was. “Okay.”
Haechan parted your legs again, gentler than typical. “On the plus side,” he started, holding his dick between your thighs. “I can’t get you pregnant if you’re already pregnant.”
You quipped, “That’s actually not impossible. Something called superfetation. I heard about it a couple of months ago after searching on Google for too long. It’s super rare, though. Don’t worry.”
“I am about to superfetate this pussy,” Haechan groaned, obnoxious.
“You’re turning me off.”
Haechan laughed. 
After a moment of coating himself in your wetness and hearing your soft moans, Haechan decided he couldn’t take it anymore and slowly penetrated you. His jaw unhitched, more than a couple of sounds escaping him. 
You weren’t any better. He just made you feel so full. You liked when he made it seem like it was only the two of you and you existed for each other. 
Haechan was painfully hard inside you and desperate to move, though not before he said without room for argument, “Tell me if you want me to stop or if it hurts.”
You simply just nodded. There was nothing you wouldn’t do if it got him to fuck your brains out. 
Then, Haechan started to move. His hands were on your hips, serving as an anchor so that he wouldn’t lose himself completely as he drowned in your wet pussy. In a similar manner, you braced your hands on his shoulders, holding onto him for dear life. 
You were gazing at Haechan with one fatal combination of love and lust. They couldn’t be separated. Not after all the things that had been done and all the words that had been said. All you knew was that you had bared your body to him in the same way you’d bared your heart. 
“Baby, don’t stop,” you sighed, eyes fluttering shut. “Don’t stop.” There was a pressure building inside the walls wedged between your legs and it only came out when he was steadily rocking his hips into you. 
The whole room suddenly seemed a thousand degrees hotter and Haechan couldn’t breathe, exhaling loudly with labored breath. He couldn’t take that your pussy was so warm and tight, grumbling, “Fuck,” in between moans, smacking his hips into yours uncontrollably. 
For a half second, you made eye contact with Haechan, just before he was sucking at the pulse on your collarbone and you couldn’t help but cry out his name, his chest creating friction against yours just enough to not be uncomfortable. 
Haechan willed himself not to tighten his grip at the arc of your hips for the sheer reason that he didn’t want to hurt you. Not only did he not want to hurt you any more than you asked for, but the reminder that his children were growing inside your belly made him treat you like you were fragile. 
He wanted to ask you to marry him, but he was terrified that it was way too soon. This pregnancy wasn’t even planned. You would probably have a heart attack if he asked for your hand in marriage. He was no stranger to being chided for moving too quickly, though it was just his nature. 
Little did he know, you loved that about him. He could come off too strong sometimes, but beneath his fast jumps to get started was a zealous boy with big hopes for the future. 
“I love you,” Haechan whispered, lips brushing against your skin. 
Your eyes fluttered open, meeting his again. “I love you. You’re my everything.”
“You’re my everything and then some,” Haechan flirted. 
“You’re my everything and everything in between.”
Haechan started, “You’re my everything and…”
All it took was a kiss to the lips to effectively shut him up, grabbing his head and steering him closer to you. Like you weren’t already skin to skin. You sucked his tongue in your mouth, moaning at how his cock hit your sweet spot. 
You were just so consumed by him - entirely. Though you knew that there was no closer the two of you could be, you’d be damned if you didn’t try. 
Haechan’s hands wandered up to grab a handful of your breasts, gently squeezing the soft skin in his palms. He couldn’t get enough of the way you panted and sighed at his touch. There was no need for oxygen when he had you and he kissed you breathlessly until he thought he was going to die. 
Haechan exhaled with his mouth hanging open, “You cheated.” His lips were perfectly swollen, the sight winning a smile out of you. 
You giggled. 
With how your walls were kneading and gushing around his cock, Haechan knew that he wouldn’t last. His mouth watered at the thought of coming inside you since it had been so long ago. That one time just short of two months ago excluded, obviously. Though he hadn’t meant for it to happen. 
But first and foremost Haechan wanted to get you off and he steered a hand between your legs, thumbing your clit. You squirmed instantly, sensitive. 
Little moans of his name kept escaping from your lips. “Haechan, I’m going to come if you keep doing that,” you warned, though rocked your hips into his to match his pace. The pleasure was different from before and the intimacy was even more intense. 
Haechan chuckled breathlessly, staving off his orgasm for as long as he could. “That’s the point, baby.” 
There was a resoundingly wet squelch as Haechan continued to bulldoze his cock into your cunt, breezing through the air. Your hands flew to your face as you covered yourself, embarrassed, but he pulled them away just as quick. “Don’t hide.”
“Don’t you hear that? I’m embarrassed,” you blurted. 
Haechan shook his head, peering down at you with misty eyes, and growled, “Sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.”
You were breathless. Haechan silenced you by capturing your lips in one incapacitating kiss and you swore your heart stopped beating for a second.
He made it too easy to forget. Forget the all-consuming worries of eventual childbirth. The threat of kissing everything you’d ever known and wanted goodbye. And the fear of raising a child that might end up making the same mistakes as you. 
No words left your mouth as you parted your lips in a silent scream, trembling with the pressure of orgasm. You were a total disaster - you couldn’t stop moving, shaking and grinding yourself onto him even as your orgasm aggressively passed. 
Your orgasm ripped the soul out of you without leaving anything behind in a merciless act of overkill and you only slacked onto the mattress when it felt completely over. You heaved for breath, almost like you would never breathe again. You had never felt anything so vigorously. Every thought vacated your brain. 
Haechan was obviously not far behind - if the frequent pitched moans you were milking out of him were any indication - and you were borderline begging him to fill you again. This was a different strain of desperation than the kind that got you pregnant. This was more lethal. 
Your walls were pulsing around him and Haechan couldn’t take it, hissing your name when he came with a sharp cry. His hips didn’t still until he rode out his high, both of you moaning in a delighted sync when his cum dripped. 
“Fuck,” Haechan sighed, finally noticing how fast his heart was pounding against his chest. 
You started, “That was…”
“Intense,” Haechan finished. 
You nodded in agreement. Though it was enjoyable nonetheless. 
The two of you just sat there and wallowed in the afterhighs of sex for a bit. You were too exhausted to move and Haechan didn’t want to leave you alone. He spooned you in his arms for a total of fifteen minutes while the two of you chatted incessantly until you decided you finally had mustered enough strength. 
Time was a blur when Haechan helped you to your feet - not that you needed it yet - and led you to the bathroom where he proceeded to run the shower for both of you. After playfully washing each other’s backs, you went back to the bedroom clad in nothing but towels. 
For once, it was comfortably silent when you slipped back into bed. Then, to your surprise, Haechan started to cry. You gasped, “You’re crying!”
Hot tears stung Haechan’s eyes. Few things brought him to literal tears. He was just so over-thrilled to be the father of your babies. “Yeah.”
You cradled his face in your hands, kissing his lips. “We’re making two babies. We’re going to be parents. For the next eighteen years, they’re going to be our most paramount priority.”
Haechan knew that. You weren’t the only one that was going to be taking a step back from the grind, at least until you both grew a little more familiar with the parenting life. His decreased hours were non-negotiable and it helped that he was one of the co-owners. 
Not only was he going to be a father, but he needed to take time to be an even more devoted partner to you. Both of you were responsible for these children and the very last thing he wanted was for you to feel like you were carrying the weight by yourself.
Wiping the tears out of his blurry eyes, Haechan said, “I can’t believe you let a guy like me get you pregnant.”
You furrowed your brows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That I’m not exactly the type of dude people look at and go ‘he’s going to make an incredible father.’”
You liked that Haechan was being vulnerable with you. He started doing it more often ever since he realized that his indifference could drive you away. His feelings were deeper than he tended to lead on. When it came to you, he was an open book. 
“You’re going to make an incredible father. There. I said it,” you whispered. 
Haechan smiled, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. That was all he needed to hear. 
At sixteen weeks, your baby bump still wasn’t protruding even though you were definitely carrying twins. Doctor Stakes reassured you that everybody’s journey was different and your pregnant belly very well might not pop up until the end of the second trimester. 
And since you hadn’t announced that you were pregnant (you were conflicted), you working was still fully expected. Nobody asked questions. You considered yourself pretty damn slick. 
That was, until your agent knocked on your trailer while the crew were breaking. She was a down-to-earth, middle-aged woman named Patricia. 
“Hey,” you greeted, letting her inside. “Something wrong?”
Shutting the trailer door with a thud (this particular company tended to have faulty trailer doors), Mrs. Patricia shook her head gently. “Not particularly. I was curious about something and I wanted to speak with you woman to woman.”
That had your undivided attention. You set down the water bottle you’d been gulping back and prompted, “Yes?”
Mrs. Patricia started, “Excuse me if I’m overstepping, but… are you expecting?”
You blinked. “Is it obvious?”
“It’s in your nose.”
Your hand went up to your nose and you exclaimed, “What’s wrong with my nose?”
She gave you a look that sternly told you to lower your voice and replied levelly, “There is nothing wrong with your nose, but it is swollen.”
You had no idea what she was talking about and it was evident on your face. 
Mrs. Patricia explained, “Fluid retention. I had a swollen nose and hands during my pregnancy with my twenty-year-old, but it went away after my postpartum period.”
“Oh,” you replied quietly. 
“Congratulations, by the way. I think you would benefit from following up on the symptoms of pregnancy, just so that you know what to expect,” she suggested. “Again, I don’t mean to overstep.”
Though your mind was at a billion different places, you forced a smile and said, “No, it’s okay - thank you!”
But the second you came home, you were a different person. 
“Babe,” you called out, setting your keys in the tray near the door. Haechan told you that he would be home by now and you saw his motorbike parked in the garage. “Babe!”
Given the distance, his voice was faint, but you heard a faraway, “I’m coming!”
You stood there and patiently removed your shoes while you waited. There were now a handful of other things weighing on your mind and you didn’t know how to handle it by yourself. 
Haechan zipped downstairs, pleased to see you at the end of a long day. His hair was a beautiful mess at the top of his head and you could only guess he had been playing video games with Jaemin and Mark. 
Not that you were concerned about any of that right now. 
“Hey, baby. How was your day?” Haechan asked, coming up to you to trap you in a bear hug. Like he did everyday. 
But you weren’t at all in the mood for any of it, ignoring his question completely. “Is my nose swollen?”
That obviously wasn’t what Haechan thought you were going to say. “Huh?”
“You heard me.”
Haechan drew back, realizing you were in one of your moods again. Doctor Stakes mentioned that you were prone to mood swings and he would just have to deal with it in the gentlest way he could. “I mean, I didn’t wanna say anything, but it’s a little...”
“Oh my fucking god,” you exclaimed, stepping around him and bolting for the kitchen. 
Haechan was hot on your heels. “Babe, wait up!”
You threw open the snack pantry door, scanning them for your favorite chips, before remembering that you finished the bag last night. “Fuck, I forgot to order from the store!”
The words were right on his tongue, though Haechan knew better than to tell you to calm down. He was no stranger to your temper. His voice was level, calm. “We can always order more.”
Fresh tears dampened your face, burning while they blurred your vision. Reality was a mean little bitch with a hard punch. “Damn the chips! I can’t believe this.”
Haechan assumed it was a model thing. They were strict about your appearance and you always had to look a certain way. It was part of the reason why he never saw your career as an option for himself, though he wasn’t going to snitch about your junk food indulgence. 
Tentatively reaching out for you, Haechan kissed your face and cooed, “Hey, baby, listen to my voice. Your body is going to change. The doc said that’s completely normal. It’s nothing to lose your shit over.”
“It’s everything to lose my shit over!” you wailed. “I’m not mad about my fucking nose - I’m mad because I know nothing about bringing a baby into this world and I’m going to be a shit mother!”
“Don’t you dare say that,” Haechan told you, stern but still tranquil. You wholeheartedly envied it. 
“It’s true,” you huffed, sinking against the refrigerator. “My nose is swollen. I literally didn’t even know that was a thing! If I don’t know minor fucking details, how am I going to know how to parent?”
While you knew your agent had no foul intentions by commenting about your nose and there wasn’t a single mean bone in her body, you wished she would have kept it to herself. You couldn’t stop thinking about how you didn’t have this under control. This baby-making shit was not your strong suit. 
Other than the sex itself, although that was the last thing on your mind right now. 
It was completely unexpected for Haechan’s voice to drop the way it did. You had never seen him so serious. “We can take classes. Doctor Stakes recommended them, you know.”
You grumbled, “Why didn’t Doctor Stakes tell me that I was going to get a new nose?”
“She did, actually. Something about…”
“Fluid retention, I know. My agent told me,” you replied snappily. You were finally calming down, though hardly. Pregnancy came with its fair share of frustrations. Though it was also accompanied by the lack of energy to express them all. 
Haechan helped you off the ground, clearing your face of any tears with his thumb. “Is she the one that commented on your nose?”
You shrugged your shoulders but answered, “Yeah.”
“I think your agent should mind her bitter, decrepit business,” Haechan spat, though his tone was completely noncommittal. 
You snorted. “She’s not bad, Haechan.”
“I don’t care. It’s bad manners.”
You couldn’t argue with that. But it was nothing worth getting a new manager over and if anything you would just talk to her about boundaries. The only reason she was even on set was because you wanted her there. 
“The point is,” Haechan started, grabbing your hands and locking your fingers in his. “Every problem has a fix. I don’t know shit about this, either. You think I’ve been a father before? Must I remind you that you’re the only girl I’ve ever came inside of?”
You folded your arms. “And the only one you ever will.”
Haechan snickered, bobbing his head. You were lightening up and he could breathe a little easier. “Yes. And the only one I ever will.”
You let out a shaky breath. Though you still felt like ripping your hair out, you no longer felt the need to scream. Your lungs had had enough for one night. “Fine.”
“We’ll take classes together. I already managed my hours, so I’ve got time. You should tell the people you work for that you’re pregnant,” Haechan suggested.
You nodded. His constant touches killed your doubts again. Ultimately, they were no match against the love of your life. “How are you so nonchalant about this?”
Haechan shrugged like he had absolutely zero clue. “Old habits die hard, I guess?” He was internally panicking, but excellent at hiding it. Always had been. 
You hummed. Maybe it wasn’t the worst thing ever. 
“And by the way, you’re beautiful. Swollen nose or not,” Haechan said. “I think it’s cute.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “Cute?”
“Yeah. Fits your face.” 
“You’re just saying that because you don’t want to put up with a hysterical pregnant lady,” you droned. 
Haechan didn’t try to deny it. Instead, he decided to lighten the mood, chirping, “Well, that’s what I get for being silly and not wrapping my willy.”
You forced your lips into a line, fighting a laugh. “That’s so stupid.”
“No glove, no love,” Haechan persisted, eager to get a laugh out of you. He wanted to see your shoulders shake and your nose do that cute thing it always did when you laughed at his jokes.
You playfully exclaimed, “Quit it!”
“You can’t go wrong if you shield your dong.”
That was the last blow your self-restraint could take and you finally burst out laughing like he wanted you to. 
Haechan was sporting a triumphant smile. He was always glad to put a smile on your face. Even (especially) for the most idioticly absurd of reasons. 
Your outburst eventually fizzled out and you thought back on something he said a couple of minutes ago, musing aloud, “Speaking of telling people that I’m pregnant, we haven’t told the clique.”
Haechan nodded. “I haven’t even told my parents. They’re gonna be so mad we waited almost twenty weeks. My mom’s been nagging me about when she can expect grandkids.”
“We should have a party. Get the gang in town and host a gathering at your parents’ house or something,” you proposed. 
Haechan’s brows furrowed. “Like a gender reveal party?”
You winced. “Goodness, no. Just, like, I don’t know. A pregnancy reveal party. But they can guess if they want.”
That wasn’t the best idea. Mark and Ryujin would probably have opposite guesses and flip the table over. Grabbing your wrist to press a kiss to the back of your hand, Haechan said, “Well, you know Mark’s been in Canada for the past two months and Winter is everywhere, but I’ll see what we can do.”
You didn’t want to get your hopes up - nowadays it was rare for all of you to be in town at the same time - but that had you excited. You couldn’t wait to share the good news. “I had another idea, too,” you whispered softly. 
Haechan led you to the living room so that you could sit down and asked, “What’s that?” 
Once you were off your feet, you played coy and confessed, “We should have a photoshoot at your studio when my bump gets big. Just me, you, and the two babies in my belly. A grand reveal to the entire world that I’m officially a mother.”
“Sold,” Haechan hummed in approval.
You couldn’t stop smiling. A part of you couldn’t wait for it to happen. Doctor Stakes mentioned that it could feel like your stomach grew out of nowhere. 
Within the next couple of days, you communicated with your consultants and the management at your agency and notified them of your pregnancy. You divulged that you were sixteen weeks along and fully intended to be a mother to your children. 
And in no uncertain terms. Given the flexibility of your schedules and hectic hours, they agreed that it was only fair you took off as much as you took on. You were offered six months, which you accepted thankfully, and were told to inform them when you would be starting two weeks in advance. 
When you delivered the news to Haechan, he couldn’t contain his excitement. Everyday the ongoing reminder of your looming childbirth settled in. His kids were developing inside your womb. He was going to be a father. You were going to raise two kids together in your shared home and every time he realized, he fell more and more in love with the thought. 
Only a few weeks later you were at his parents’ house watching Haechan and his father set up from the kitchen. Though you wanted to at least help with the baking, his mother was unshakeable in her ways and rigidly told you to sit and not move. 
She wanted her grandkids delivered in the best possible health. His parents were enthusiastic to discover that you were pregnant, though not without slight scolding. But they weren’t against a celebration. 
“I knew it. You know, a mother always knows,” his mother had told you while her son and his father were in the living room. 
You heard a knock at the front door a couple of hours later and separated from Haechan who was making out with you while his parents weren’t looking to greet your friends. The first person you heard was Mark. 
“What up,” Mark exclaimed when he strolled inside like he owned the place. 
Ryujin wasn’t far behind, obviously, but behind her was her boyfriend, Sunwoo. Every now and then, you were reminded that the guy actually existed, although he had come home from Chicago years ago. 
You gave them each kind hugs. “Hi, guys. Long time, no see.”
Ryujin spat, “Mark gets a Grammy nom that he didn’t even win and acts like he’s too cool for us now.”
“God forbid a man gets busy and goes to his home country,” Mark droned in stride. “Besides, I’ll get it next year.”
You nodded in approval. That was the spirit. 
“It’s good to see you, man,” Haechan said, pulling Mark in for a brief hug after doing the same with Sunwoo and Ryujin. 
Mark patted him on the back. “Same, dude. It’s good to have all of us together again.”
Sunwoo picked up some candies that were collecting dust in a bowl on the coffee table. “Are these peanut butter?”
“Yup,” you retorted. 
He quickly sat it back down.
Ryujin explained dryly, “He’s allergic.”
Pinching Haechan’s arm, you gave him a stern look, knowing he was on the verge of a snicker. 
You remembered something and mentioned to Mark, “Oh, by the way, I’ve been hearing your new single on the radio. It’s really good.”
There was a faint blush across Mark’s cheeks. “Thanks,” he chirped. 
“I did the cover art,” Ryujin added. 
Mark whined, “Why can’t you ever let me have my moment?”
You chuckled. It was good to have them all back. Other than Sunwoo, you were pretty updated on what they all had going on and though it drove them out of the city sometimes, you were endlessly happy for them. Mark was obviously the next big thing and was busy making global hits, touring the seven seas. 
On the other hand, Ryujin worked from home more often than not, typically only leaving California to go on vacation. She did art commissions notably for wealthy patrons and pitched in with Mark’s creative team whenever needed. 
Chaewon was also frequently home, owning a hair and nail salon here and all. You and Winter definitely took pictures and credited her in your Instagrams stories. Speaking of Winter, she was everywhere, much like you. More than once, you collaborated in a photoshoot or went to Paris Fashion Week together. 
Which left Jaemin. He was much more lowkey. After giving his master's degree last year, he finally started to work as a mechanical engineer. You couldn’t believe how smart he was, having skipped a grade and all. 
The others showed up a little later. Your stomach was turning with a mixture of nerves and excitement. You couldn’t wait to get the news off of your chest. You smiled when Haechan looped an arm around your waist, almost like he could sense your whirlwind of feelings. 
Some dancing and singing at the top of your lungs later and your worries were promptly forgotten. Chaewon, Winter, and Ryujin danced with you while the boys were laughing in their own circle. The whole room was entirely too chaotic and Haechan’s parents escorted themselves out minutes ago. 
Now it was time for the kids to really party. 
Mark, under the impression that this party was just a small get-together for friends who didn’t get to see each other often, glanced at you and asked, “Okay, rum, tequila, or vodka?”
You winced. “Oh, no. I can’t.”
Mark gaped. “What? I’m on tour for a few months and now you don’t drink?”
“Yeah, um, about that,” you said, gesturing for Haechan to cut down the music. “I have something to tell you guys.”
“You’re taking care of your acne? You’re breaking out more than usual,” Mark blurted without malice. 
Haechan cocked him a glare, deadpanning, “You know, Mark, it amazes me how you can always be so close yet so far away.”
Everyone was gazing at you with baffled looks. Then, you set your hand on your stomach, and it clicked. Mark gasped, “Don’t tell me…”
“I’m pregnant,” you announced, giggling when Haechan curled his arms around your waist as he hugged you from behind. 
He was quick to correct, “We’re pregnant.”
“Yes,” you said with a chuckle. “We’re pregnant.”
The nerves were back with a vengeance. You knew they were all going to have distinct reactions and the anticipation was killing you. You thought they might have chided you for being stupid. 
As it turned out, there was a chorus of excited noises and “congratulations” that you could hardly make out. Everybody was trying to speak over each other and you had to add, “Okay, one at a time. Please.”
Chaewon wasn’t shocked, almost like she expected it to happen, but had her hands on her hips in her typical fashion. “I’m your best friend and you didn’t tell me you were pregnant?”
You winced. “Sorry.” Expected backlash, you thought. 
“It’s okay,” she said, shoving Haechan out of the way to pull you in for a hug. Much to his annoyance. “I’m so happy for you.”
You chuckled at the sound of Haechan huffing from beside you. “Thanks.”
Mark was next. There were literal twinkles in his eyes. “I’m going to be an uncle?”
“Absolutely. Your niece and nephew are going to love you,” you retorted happily. 
Winter gasped, “You’re having twins?”
You bobbed your head. “Yes. One girl, one boy. We both wanted different things so I guess that was the universe’s way of being a diplomat.”
Winter snorted in amusement. She could already guess what your preferences were. “Oh, wow. Congratulations. Jaemin and I definitely aren’t having kids, so I’m cool with being the rich auntie.”
“Mm, three rich aunties. They’re going to be so lucky,” you dragged. 
Haechan droned, “And extremely spoiled.”
You giggled.
Sunwoo and Ryujin walked up to you. Ryujin was staring at you in adoration. “Have you painted the nursery? If not, can I please help?”
That was an absolute no-brainer. “We haven’t done a lot of things. We need as much help as we can get.”
Sunwoo glanced between you and Haechan and said, “Congratulations.”
“Thanks, man,” Haechan said, holding out his hand. 
Sunwoo firmly shook your boyfriend’s hand. Then, he looked to Ryujin, parting his lips to speak, and she snapped with a shake of her head, “Nope. Never.”
Sunwoo frowned. 
You giggled. It didn’t take a genius to understand he was about to ask her about having kids someday. 
Jaemin looked like he couldn’t believe his ears. Though, he had to admit it made sense. You and Haechan just couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. “You’re pregnant?”
“Very.” 
“Wow,” he replied, shaking his head in disbelief. “And I thought we had enough Haechan walking around.”
“Dude, I’ll kick your ass,” Haechan hissed. 
Jaemin threw up his hands in a gesture of innocence. “Kick my ass after the party’s over.”
Winter wandered over again, a drink in her hand, and quipped, “You know, this whole time I thought you were going to get Haechan pregnant.”
That got a giggle out of you. “No worries. I’m gonna peg him tonight.”
Haechan was smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. 
While you went to go find Chaewon and whisper something in her that made a smile crawl its way onto her lips, Haechan and Jaemin excused themselves from the room for a minute. 
The garage was hot and stuffy, a stark contrast from the ventilated and free energy of the party, but it was the perfect place to have a private conversation ideally without any unwanted listeners. 
Haechan mounted one of his dad’s old bikes (his father was still an avid bike fan no matter how long it had been since he rode one). He wasn’t going anywhere, but he needed a distraction. 
Holding a beer, Jaemin nudged his best friend and asked, “You don’t want a drink?”
“No, I can’t,” Haechan replied, voice distant.
Suit yourself, Jaemin thought. Then, thinking back to something you said, he teased, “Guess she was serious about that pegging shit, huh?”
Haechan snapped, “Do I ask you how you’re fucking Winter?”
Jaemin made a face before downing what was left of his beer. “Good point, my friend.”
Haechan was obviously in his head, which meant nothing good. As always. He wasn’t unhappy - the opposite, rather - but this was one of those days where everything felt unreal. 
If there was anything he knew, it was that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. His little voice in his head snapped, Damn eighteen fucking years. You were his until he died. 
The silence was getting off-putting, thus Jaemin started, “So, a baby.”
“Yeah,” Haechan answered blankly. It was almost like he wasn’t ever there. His surroundings be damned. 
Jaemin was officially miffed. “You wanted to come out here to talk to me about something, man. Open up, brother. What’s on your mind?”
Haechan shook his head. He was in desperate need of direction. He huffed, “I don’t know, bro. I’ve never felt shit like this before.”
That piqued Jaemin’s attention. All he could think of was how badly his brother in everything but blood needed a drink or a cigarette, though he correctly assumed he was abstaining for your sake. “Like what?”
“That’s the thing. I can’t explain it. I mean, I put a baby in her,” Haechan started, conflicted. “Two babies. You know that we wavered a long time before she decided that she wanted to keep them?”
“Well, I do now.”
Haechan’s features were tensed in his typical pensive gaze. “I support her regardless of what her decision would have been, and I made sure she knew that, but I was secretly hoping that she wanted to keep it. Because I realized what I wanted.”
Jaemin prompted, “What do you want?”
“Everything. I wanna do the whole nine. I wanna start a family with her. I wanna pick up the kids after school. Make the three of them breakfast in the morning. I wanna spend every second of my life next to her. When I die, I want to be buried next to her grave.”
Jaemin tilted his head with suspicion. “Haechan, do you wanna marry her?”
“Yeah. I wanna marry her,” Haechan answered. He was finally confirming it - aloud. “Is it too soon?”
“That’s not for me to decide,” Jaemin said kindly. 
Haechan sighed. 
Jaemin gave him a pat to the shoulder and added, “Hey, bro. The worst she can say is ‘no.’”
There was a war-waging storm inside of Haechan. He was prepared to kiss the ground that you walked on. “She’s the mother of my babies…,” he trailed. 
Though Haechan tried to blink his tears away, his emotions and love for his family was too goddamn strong. His heart beated for the three of you. This paternal responsibility added a brand new meaning to his life. A different purpose. 
Jaemin noticed his best friend’s tears and immediately opened his arms. “Dude, come here.”
Haechan marched over and let Jaemin sweep him into a borderline aggressive hug. There was thunder in his heart and he could feel it shaking everything he’d ever known. This kind of euphoria was foreign to him, but he never wanted it to stop. 
When he pulled back, Haechan wiped his face and muttered, “Don’t tell them I cried.”
Jaemin snickered, patting his friend on the back. “Don’t worry, man. I got you for life. Your secret’s safe with me.”
Haechan blew out a shaky breath. “By the way, my girlfriend and I talked, and we decided that we want you to be the godfather.”
Jaemin pointed to himself with his finger. “Me? Why not Mark? What do I know about god?”
Haechan snickered. “Think of it as being the highest ranking uncle.”
“I like that. Uncle Jaemin. It’s got a nice ring to it,” Jaemin replied, nodding with approval. 
“What about Dad?”
Jaemin grimaced. “That’s not funny. I have nightmares about that.”
Haechan laughed. 
As soon as that was over, Haechan and Jaemin slipped back into the party so naturally it was almost as if nothing ever happened. He found you sipping on an iced tea in an attempt to quench your thirst. 
You cocked a brow at him. “Everything okay?”
Haechan bobbed his head. Then, he stole your glass out of your hands and took a sip, much to your annoyance. “Yeah. Why?”
“Just asking,” you replied, snatching your drink back. 
Tempted to giggle, Haechan held it back when a thought crossed his mind. “I’m not having second thoughts.”
“I know.” You also knew his secret, familiarized with the little gleam in his stare, though you decided against mentioning it. 
Haechan grinned, taking your available hand in his, and asked, “Wanna dance?”
“I was wondering when you would ask,” you retorted, setting down your glass and leading him to the center of the floor. 
Heat fluttered in your chest when you felt Haechan get closer to you. With his hands at your hips and yours at his shoulders the two of you started to sway around the floor, earning a number of exhilarated noises from your friends in the room. 
But it still felt like it was just you two, like it did all those years ago when you realized for the first time that there was something so different about him. For lack of a better word, he was just so mesmerizing. You remembered wanting to know everything there was about him. 
Bliss made you close your eyes and make a wish to the stars, hoping for an eternity with the man you loved and the life you made together as partners. 
From the corner of your eye, you noticed Sunwoo excuse himself from this fascinatingly beautiful moment to accept a phone call. Not that you minded. You were entranced in that moment and everything else had little consequence. Your heart was dancing inside your chest and on the floor. 
Haechan pressed a kiss to your brow, looking at you with total undeniable affection. His eyes were sparkling again though not with tears - with adoration. This man would steal the moon for you and then proceed to wish on every star for a thousand more moons to gift you. 
Only if he knew that there was an impending danger he should’ve wished away. 
Sunwoo entered the room again and walked towards the two of you, which made you both stop and curiously gaze at him before he said, “It’s for you.”
You were baffled. “Who is it?”
“Jeno.”
Haechan’s face paled. 
Without thinking, you took the phone and pressed it to your ear, then said less than amicably, “Hello?”
Jeno’s voice was quick to fill your ears, an air of surprise to his tone when he spoke your name. “Hey. Don’t hang up, please.”
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t,” you hissed. 
The room was silent while you talked. The music was cut again and everybody’s eyes were fixed to you, watching this phone call unfold with interest. Nobody dared to say a word, but the disdainful feelings were pretty much obvious. The anger in Haechan’s eyes almost matched the ire in yours. 
“Because I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” you repeated. “That’s all you have to say?”
Jeno sighed from wherever the hell he was. “Listen, I want to talk, but I don’t want to have this conversation over the phone. I was thinking maybe we could meet up somewhere.”
“Just a second,” you replied, handing Sunwoo back his phone while you dragged Haechan over to a corner. 
Judging from the mere force of your actions, you were clearly upset and it didn’t take a genius to point that out. Haechan was ready to pummel this guy to the ground for your sake. “What happened? What did he say?”
“He wants to meet up. I guess he wants to apologize,” you whispered.
Haechan exclaimed, “What?”
You put your finger to his lip. “He said that he was sorry.”
Frustration made Haechan cross his arms with a mean-looking scowl on his lips as he huffed, “And you want to entertain this fool?”
You shrugged. You were obviously angry and feigning indifference, covered head to toe in unadulterated rage, but there was something in you that wanted to give Jeno the benefit of the doubt. “Call it curiosity. But I’m not going out pregnant. I’m not ready for the world to know yet.”
“Okay, so I go.”
You had already thought of that, pondering all your options in a five-minute time span, but quickly responded, “Yeah, but I kind of wanna be there when shit goes down. How about we invite him over?”
Haechan was seething. “You want to invite him over to the house where we’re going to raise our son and daughter?”
“We need a bigger house anyways,” you answered flatly, exhaling a breath. 
“Bigger than ours?”
“Bigger than ours.”
Haechan frowned for a moment, though after a moment or two of contemplation, he relented. “Fine. But I want to do all the negotiating.”
You bobbed your head. “Fair.”
Haechan politely asked Sunwoo for his phone again, then switched on a dime when he spoke sharply, “Hello?”
Neither of you could see the way Jeno’s eyes flickered with shock. “Haechan.”
Haechan snapped, “Don’t give me that shit, man. Did you change your number?”
Jeno faltered with confusion. “No?”
“Good. I’m going to text you our address. You’re going to be at our front door step tomorrow afternoon at two o’clock sharp or else you’ll be turned away at the door. And you better tell me something I want to hear or I’m kicking your ass.”
There was a lull of silence as Jeno processed those words. 
Haechan immediately added, “Got it?”
“Got it.”
“Goodbye,” Haechan said, promptly hanging up the phone and returning it to its owner. 
Mark was not shockingly the first to speak. “That was… intense.”
You shrugged. “I thought it was hot.”
“Of course, you did,” Mark teased. 
Haechan shook his head. It felt like the more the days passed, the more there was on his mind. 
Regardless of unfortunate events, you refused to allow them to ruin the celebration. Assertively, you demanded that somebody put the music back on and encouraged your boyfriend to bust a move. Socializing and having fun was the quickest way to make him forget the unforgettable. 
Even though you were less expressive in your contempt, it obviously put you at unease as well and you were also in fine need of an effective distraction. A drink would have been nice for knocking back inhibition, but you’d resigned yourself to the fact that you had months before that was a viable solution. 
Plus something that you learned as you bordered closer onto your thirties was the significance of letting loose without the need for recreational use. There was something more special about bonding sober. 
Priorities shifted. Like how you were steadily beginning to value your personal life over your career and image. When you were in your early twenties, everything felt more life-and-death than it was. Now, the most pivotal moment of your life would be successfully giving birth. 
Later that night, those were the thoughts battling in your mind until noon that day. It seemed like every day you were making changes in your day-to-day routines to accommodate your new life. Changes that you were so certain at one point would feel like the end. 
You knew now it wasn’t anywhere close to the end. If anything, it was a new beginning and a transition to a new stage of your life. You were standing at the threshold of parenthood. 
That wasn’t to say you were going to remain indoors for the rest of your life until you wilted and succumbed to eventual fate. Or become a housewife and die, as Haechan had humorously put it. Granted, you realized how vital it was to be a little more laid-back and would undoubtedly shelter your children, but you were already fantasizing about sending the kids to the grandparents for a fun night out.��
You wondered if Jeno had changed. All things considered. He was older, too, and closer to Haechan’s age than he was yours. Though five years didn’t seem like too long ago, you had seen a quantity of things occur in that time. 
And you weren’t just talking career-wise, though that technically helped your case. You were in no way a stranger to the upward spiral of Jeno’s career. Like you, he had a successful career in the fashion industry, walking down runways and posing for big shot photographers. 
On more than one occasion, you’d been invited to events at the same time, though you had considered yourself lucky to not have any face-to-face encounters with him and simultaneously practiced your professional skills if it inevitably were to happen. 
Maybe it was for the better. A way to prepare you for the hell that was today. Still, you couldn’t deny being anxious as you lounged on your couch. 
Checking your watch and noting that it was a minute before two, you exhaled, “What if he just doesn’t show up?”
Not a moment later, the doorbell rang. Oh, you thought to yourself. He’s always been punctual. 
“You have your answer,” Haechan droned. 
You took three stabilizing breaths when you watched Haechan leave the room to answer the front door. Maybe you should have let him take care of this. No, chided the voice in your head. This is both of your history. He shouldn’t go through this alone. 
Especially not when he was evidently opposed to it and only agreed because it was what you wanted. 
There was a disturbance in your brain when you saw Haechan round the corner and return with Jeno. This guy had essentially been off of your radar for so long that it was jarring to be confronted with the fact that he wasn’t a figment of your imagination. 
Jeno spoke your name. “Hi.”
You waved. As of this second, you didn’t have anything to say to him. 
“You can sit,” Haechan said when he sat next to you on the loveseat. He sounded bored. 
Jeno perched on the chair across from you, fumbling with his hands. You didn’t know Jeno for as long as Haechan had, but you still had never seen him anxious. 
You scanned your memory for any recollection of him being anything other than cocky and confident and ultimately turned up empty. His raging ego and dilated pride was his vice and had cost him more than you’d ever known.
Impatiently, Haechan prompted, “Well, are you here to twiddle your thumbs or…”
Normally, you would pinch his thigh for rude comments, but today he had a free pass. 
Jeno lifted his head to meet both of your eyes when he finally started, “I’ve spent six months trying to practice what I would say if I ever got the chance to apologize.”
Both you and Haechan had your arms folded, stubborn. Save for the unignorable vexation, your faces were borderline inscrutable. He picked the wrong duo to fuck over. The two of you were unrelenting. 
Jeno let out a little sigh and promptly continued, “I say six months, because it took me four years and a half to understand just how badly I fucked up. At first, it didn’t bother me that I lost seven friends on the same day. I was arrogant. I thought I didn’t need friends.”
You almost laughed. Almost. That much was obvious. 
“And I had that mindset for a long, long time. There’s just something about when you’re super young and you feel like you have the whole world at your feet. Obviously, the popularity didn’t help. When I started to become famous, people wanted to hang out with me.”
“Yeah, that tends to happen,” you quipped smartly. “They see you’re the next big thing and they hold onto you because that’s what you’re there for. To be their one-way ticket to stardom. Then, when they get what they wanted, you’ve exhausted your purpose.”
“Yeah.” Jeno bobbed his head in agreement. 
Haechan was not here to have a conversation about the brutal reality of being a superstar in the industry and his jaw clenched. “What made you realize that you fucked up?”
“What she said,” Jeno replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “This is a shallow job. Nobody was really my friend. I was either just their ride to fame or an accessory to make them look good. I realized how much I missed not only you two, but the whole gang, because you were the only people who cared about me beyond the surface.”
Haechan sighed. 
Jeno’s voice got quieter. Not emotional, but dangerously close. “In our clique, it didn’t matter if you were on track to being a celebrity or just some guy. You know?”
“Yeah. I know.”
You frowned. 
Haechan added, “So, you get lonely and decide you need us?”
“I know how that sounds, but…,” Jeno trailed. “But I’m sorry. I’m sorry for taking you for granted. I’m sorry for competing with you instead of being your friend.”
Haechan’s lips were in a hard line. 
Jeno flitted his gaze towards you. “I’m sorry for using you. It was beyond fucked up.”
“To be fair, I was using you, too.”
Jeno bounced his leg against the ground, attempting to thwart his nerves. At the back of his mind, there were many unspoken thoughts. “Yeah, but you didn’t leave a woman in the street by herself. I still haven’t forgiven myself for that. If something happened to you, it would have been all my fault.”
Just the thought triggered something spiteful inside you. “I’m glad you realize that.”
Knowing you better than anybody, Haechan could sense the fire smoldering inside of you, slipping his fingers through yours and squeezing. “This has been… whatever, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You’re stressing my baby mother out.”
Jeno spluttered, “Baby?”
“Yeah. A baby.”
Jeno’s eyes flickered in shock. “Wow, um. That’s amazing. Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” you replied, tone completely noncommittal. “We’ll think about it.”
You watched Jeno bob his head and reply with a quiet “thank you” as your boyfriend stood to see him out. With how your brain was practically like a wildfire, it felt like the epitome of madness. 
Haechan came back only a couple of moments later sporting a sour glower. 
You relaxed when he sat next to you. You didn’t realize that you’d been so stiff. “Well, what do you think?”
“I don’t know,” Haechan lied without realizing, because his skepticism wouldn’t allow him to admit his true feelings. 
Well, you knew exactly what you were thinking. “He seems genuine. I don’t think he has an ulterior motive. I mean, he’s doing great, he doesn’t need us.”
Haechan prompted, “But?”
You heaved a breath. Sometimes you hated that Haechan knew you so well. Better yet, he understood you perfectly. 
“But I don’t forget as easily as I forgive,” you said quietly, drifting endlessly in your thoughts like spacetime. 
Haechan huffed, “Me, neither.”
Without many uncomfortable amounts of stressful thoughts, your life went on. The world kept spinning no matter what you were going through and it did you no good to subject yourself to strain while you were carrying twins. Your doctor was clear that the risks associated with pregnancy grew with more than one child. 
Your body was undergoing so much change that you didn’t even step outside because you didn’t want the world to know that you were pregnant until you announced it yourself. Given that it was your first pregnancy, you wanted it to be unforgettable. 
The baby bump felt like it happened overnight. You couldn’t stop gawking at yourself in the mirror, in disbelief that there was something coming to life inside of you. They were starting to move around, too. You cried when you noticed the fluttering in your belly, almost like butterflies. 
Every day you were counting down the seconds until the photoshoot until in a blink, the day had finally come. Haechan, the gentleman that you had fallen in love with, had everything set up at his studio and was rigid with the staff, though nonetheless polite. You were beaming. Not many opportunities arose for you to see him work behind the scenes and it was heartwarming to see him be so attuned to your needs. 
It was one of the most fun and rewarding shoots you’d ever done in your life. And it would be the most noteworthy. The vibe was nothing less than ethereal and it was full of kisses and laughter. Haechan’s hands and lips on your belly. Holding your hand while you looked into each other’s eyes with the utmost adoration. 
Holding the physical pictures between your own fingers, you sobbed. You were very emotional these days and half expected Haechan to poke fun at you, but he never did. He was the same way, passionate about the undying love he had for you and your unborn children. 
There were a couple of pictures that you didn’t release to the public. Those were just for you and your loved ones. They were more vulnerable, sentimental pictures where you and Haechan couldn’t but stare at each other with a tearful gaze. 
The moment of truth, came the little voice in the back of your head while your finger wavered over the share button. Half of you wanted to hand your phone over to your PR team, but it was important to you that you were the one to disclose. 
You took a shaky breath just before pressing the button and tossed your phone to the side. What was said online wasn’t any of your concern. You didn’t want to know. 
Outlets rushed to cough up the news. Your social media accounts were bursting with likes from people all over the globe. People you were friends with in the industry didn’t hesitate to call and congratulate you on the pleasant surprise. This wasn’t a secret anymore. Now that it was out there, it was everybody’s business. 
When the deed was done, you chose to focus on yourself and the life surrounding you in every capacity rather than what was out of your hands, and made peace with the fact that public opinion was inevitable. What you could control, on the other hand, was how exposed you were to stranger’s thoughts. 
The next few weeks were filled with yoga and child development textbooks. Haechan was taking pictures weekly to document your belly growth. He had already decided that he was going to start a photo album specifically for your children while they grew older. 
You told him that you couldn’t think of a more beautiful idea. 
One Friday came and brought a handful of errands along with itself. You were undoubtedly pregnant now, but not so much that you couldn’t complete tasks by yourself, though Haechan thought that that was debatable. He thought it was ridiculous that anyone expected you to do anything and upheld that you deserved princess treatment. 
But you had a medical opinion that said staying active during pregnancy was beneficial for you and the babies, and Haechan resigned himself to defeat. 
Apparently, the universe wasn’t in your favor, because your car started to have complications. First, the sunroof vehemently refused to open. Then, like a total drama queen, your car decided that she didn’t want to start. 
The most exasperated breath escaped your mouth. You didn’t know the first thing about getting a stubborn vehicle to start and you knew Haechan didn’t either. Besides, not only did you not want to disturb him while he was working, but you were equally stubborn and wanted to prove that you were capable of handling yourself. 
Out of options, you had a really, really bad idea. 
Something unfamiliar stirred in your gut when you pressed your phone to ear, hearing it ring. Anxiety. Or maybe it was something else. Something unidentifiable. 
Jeno sounded a little startled when he spoke, as if he thought you called him by accident. “Hello?”
“Hi, Jeno,” you said less than enthusiastically, rubbing your forearm. “I’ve got a serious favor to ask.”
Though you couldn’t see, Jeno perked up at those words. He was completely desperate. “Yeah, sure. Anything. What’s up?”
Providing a little humor, you replied, “Assuming that you actually know how to work on cars and that wasn’t a lie to impress me, my car kind of won’t start and trying to guilt trip her into functioning doesn’t seem to be effective.”
Jeno snorted. “Did you check the battery?”
You almost started to panic. “No. Was I supposed to?”
“Uh, how about this. If you want, I can come check it out,” Jeno suggested, then immediately regretted the decision. He didn’t want to try and insert himself into your lives too quickly. “But only if you want me to.”
That wasn’t the best idea, considering your boyfriend was intent to hate Jeno’s guts and would not approve of him standing in his garage alone with his baby mother, but your options were already few, so you replied, “That’s fine. You know where I am.”
“I’m on the way,” Jeno said. You could hear him shuffling around in the background. 
“Okay. See you soon.”
You hung up without giving him a chance to respond and released an uncertain breath. Don’t make me regret this. 
Waiting with bated breath and folded arms, your gaze upturned some thirty minutes later when you heard a blue Mercedes Benz turning into your driveway. 
And then Jeno started to walk over to you. 
“Hey, sorry I couldn’t make it sooner. Traffic is crazy today,” Jeno said when he stopped just shy of your toes.
You waved him off. “You’re good. Thirty minutes isn’t bad for California traffic. Thanks for coming over.”
“No problem,” Jeno replied. He didn’t waste much time on small talk, getting straight to what you called him over for. “Let’s see what’s wrong with this bad boy.”
“Her name is Mariposa,” you corrected, but your tone wasn’t malicious. 
Jeno threw his hands up. “Where’s my manners? I should’ve asked. Sorry if I offended you, Mariposa.”
You snickered. “Don’t apologize to her. She’s caused enough trouble today.”
Jeno chuckled. 
While you kept yourself occupied in the corner, not wanting to disturb Jeno as he tried to figure out why your car was acting like a bitch, his brain was totally divided. Half was focused on thoroughly examining your car, while the other was hooked on the fact you remembered something he told you five years ago at dinner. 
Jeno was pondering, hoping. Maybe you just had a good memory, especially when it was convenient, but he hoped that someday, there would be room for him again in your lives. 
Even if he had to spend years proving that he was worthy. 
Jeno separated himself from the lifted hood of your car, dusting his hands off. Your eyes were stuck on him with gut-eating anticipation. “Looks like your alternator is weakening. Smells like burned wires and the serpentine belt smells like smoke. Your engine’s probably leaking.”
“English, please.”
“Your alternator’s not alternating and your shit’s fucked,” Jeno replied, blunt. 
“Oh.” That certainly wasn’t what you wanted to hear.
“Don’t worry. The good news is that it’s nothing that can’t be fixed,” Jeno reassured, pushing the lid back down. “The bad news is that I don’t have the tools to work on it for you.”
You ran a hand through your hair. “Guess I should call a mechanic.”
Jeno bobbed his head. “That would be a good start.”
You were anxious to ask, but did it anyway, “If it’s not too much trouble, would you mind hanging around? One look at my neighborhood and the obvious fact that I don’t know a damn thing about cars, and anyone would try to scam me out of more money than I need to spend.”
“Yeah, of course,” Jeno replied, dipping his hands in his pockets. “But, uh… won’t Haechan mind?”
You snorted. That was an understatement. “Oh, definitely, but his vehicle knowledge starts with one wheel and rides with two. I don’t think he has a say in this.”
Jeno snickered. 
The mechanic came half an hour later and you let Jeno handle the bulk of the talking, only chiming in when the guy asked specific questions like how long you’d been experiencing complications with your car.  
Between the mechanic peeking under the hood and Jeno pointing out to him your car’s tenaciousness, you understood enough of their exchange to know that fixing her would take a solid two hours. Unfortunately, this guy was stretched thin, meaning he would have to tow it back to his shop and have you pick it up tomorrow. 
“This day cannot get any worse,” you grumbled underneath your breath. 
Jeno was frustrated for you and it wasn’t even his car acting a damn fool. After he seemed to hesitate a little, he asked, “Will Haechan be back soon?”
“Nope. He had most of his hours cut, but apparently there was a really huge crisis at his job. It’s going to be another hour or two.”
“Dammit,” Jeno groaned. “Well, if you want me to, I wouldn’t mind driving. You seem really stressed and that’s not healthy for the babies. I mean, obviously you know that, but...”
His nervousness was not lost on you and you resisted a chuckle, interjecting, “Jeno, I would really appreciate the help.”
“Okay, cool,” Jeno said, whipping his keys out of his pockets and tossing them in the air. “Where to?”
Gently helping you get into his car, Jeno made sure that you were safe and comfortable before he took the driver’s seat and braced his hands on the wheel. He was certain that your lover would have his head on a stick for driving you around without his knowledge, but he had a moral obligation not to leave pregnant ladies under tension. 
Besides, he had to prove his loyalty somehow. It didn’t matter how much Jeno insisted that he’d changed. Neither you or Haechan would be convinced until there were no doubts.
Your head was against the door, temporarily appreciating the air conditioning until you just couldn’t take the silence, asking, “So, how’s life? Last time we spoke, you were talking about people being shallow.”
Jeno nodded his head quietly. “I’ve been scared of meeting new people. I have a few friends. Other than that, I have my family and girlfriend.”
Your brows furrowed. That was new. “Girlfriend? Congratulations. I didn’t know.”
“Thank you,” Jeno replied, heat rapidly flushing his cheeks. “She’s the one that encouraged me to apologize. Even if you guys still hated me in the end, she said it would be good to get it off my chest.”
That was interesting. Nobody saw the day coming where Jeno of all people would choose commitment. “Is she in the industry?”
“No, she’s actually a banker,” Jeno replied, chuckling. 
“Really? How did your paths cross?” 
“It’s a long story,” Jeno said, but you could see his eyes sparkling with happiness. He must’ve really liked her. 
Pointing to the road in front of you, staring at the red light glaring back at you both, you shrugged your shoulders. “We’ve got a long day.” 
For the duration of the total ride, in between stops, you chatted with Jeno to pass the time. It wasn’t the easiest thing to relax around each other, each for your own reasons, but you managed. And truth be told, it wasn’t all too bad. 
Your chronic cynicism was the only thing standing in the way of your forgiveness. But Jeno had no apparent reason to drive you around and assist you with errands if it wasn’t simply out of the kindness of his heart. There was nothing that you could give him that he didn’t already have. Except maybe loyal companionship, but he’d already made it clear that he wasn’t lonely. 
Only hours later did Jeno finally pull back into your driveway. Most of your errands just required having to speak with people, but noting that you were probably out of your favorite snacks again, you opted to head to a couple of stores. You also figured you would need some chocolate when it was time to placate Haechan after he realized you’d been with his worst enemy all day. 
When you were home, Jeno refused to let you carry a single item. With your bags in his hand, he opened your front door and dropped your bags off in the kitchen. 
The sound of his front door opening was all too familiar and it was no surprise that Haechan rushed downstairs, having returned only maybe half an hour before you, and chirped, “Baby, you’re home!”
You wrapped your arms around him. Haechan gently hugged you back, careful not to harm you. His warmth was appreciated, but remembering you had a little surprise, you pulled back. “Don’t get mad.”
Haechan gave you a look. “Why would I get mad?”
Surprisingly on cue, Jeno returned from the kitchen, trailing, “I put the food in the...” 
Jeno and Haechan locked glances as it was like a deer crossing paths with a mountain lion. Though you could feel Haechan tense, rather than his hold slackening, it tightened. You could see the anger flickering onto his face within a blink. “What is he doing in our house?”
“I just said don’t get mad,” you groaned, winding a hand through your hair. You cocked your head towards Jeno and said to him, “Jeno, thank you for helping me out today. I owe you one.”
“No, you don’t. I’m endlessly indebted to you,” Jeno quipped, sticking his hands in his pockets. 
“Damn right,” Haechan murmured under his breath. 
Nudging him in the side, you ignored Haechan’s whine of pain. “Well, get home safe. Thank you again.”
“No problem. Have a good night,” Jeno said, seeing himself out. 
“Get home safe?” Haechan repeated when Jeno disappeared. 
You heaved a little breath and asked, “Do you want him to die or something?”
“Well…”
“Stop,” you hissed, breaking out of his arms and moving to a chair. “He really helped me out today. My car broke down and he came to check it out. Then, when the mechanic took my car, he volunteered to help me with my errands.”
Haechan followed behind you, confused. “What? Why is this my first time hearing about this?”
“Because you had a work emergency and it wasn’t worth interrupting you over. I can handle stuff by myself, you know.”
“I know you can, but…,”
“But you’d rather me call you than the guy that fucked you over, yeah, I know,” you huffed. 
“You just finished my sentence.”
Your brows furrowed, wondering how that was in any way significant. “So?”
“So, this is going in the completely wrong direction,” Haechan said, cooling off for your sake. The last thing you needed was stress or a petulant baby daddy. “Let’s calm down and go upstairs.”
You opened your mouth to say something, anything to oppose him, but closed them when you realized you’d fallen short of things to say. “Fine.”
Haechan helped you to the bedroom. The stairs were definitely a problem lately, courtesy of the additional pressure on your uterus. You had to be extra careful coming up them now. 
When you were sitting on your bed, Haechan quietly came beside you. You released a tiny breath, not pleased or disgruntled, but of the will to leave whatever just happened downstairs. It was to be expected. 
After a minute of silence, Haechan finally said, “I’m sorry.”
You shook your head. “Don’t be.”
“No, I should be. You know I never want to make you feel like I think that you can’t do anything yourself. But I need you to know that I’m still there for you to lean on when you need me.”
Thankful that he was lying down, you lowered yourself to rest your head on his chest. Your lips were tugged into a faint smile. “Do you remember our first date?”
Haechan cocked brow. “The real one, or the unofficial first date?”
I still think the unofficial date was the real one, but whatever. Obviously, you would never say that aloud, because then it would spark the debate over what your actual first date was. You ignored his question and continued, “You said that you would never try to control me, because you’re a grown man and I’m a grown woman.”
“Have I?”
You answered bluntly, “No, you haven’t. That was five years ago, you know. I’m pregnant with our baby and even if I hate this next part, I have to depend on you a little more now.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I should make a sign-in sheet for everybody that enters your life,” Haechan said.
“Two things can be true at once.” 
Haechan said nothing, because there was nothing that needed to be said. You were so similar. That was why your relationship worked. Both of you needed time to yourselves, but the fact you were having a baby together forced you to readjust. 
It wasn’t just about what you or Haechan needed anymore. Your two babies would be entering the world any day now and they took precedence in your lives now. There would be difficult choices and there would be compromises. For both of you. 
You found his fingers, blindly lacing your fingers through them. “I don’t forgive him, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Oh.”
You continued, “I think I probably will, eventually, but not yet. Not right now.”
“You said that I would rather you call me than the guy that fucked me over,” Haechan rewinded, squeezing your hand. 
You made a face. “Yeah, I did, but I was irritated and I cut you off. It’s a bad habit that I still haven’t let go of. And it will probably happen again.”
Haechan snorted. “You weren’t wrong, but at the same time, I think I might forgive him too. Not right now, obviously, but eventually. Like you said.”
“Why?” You were confused. You saw how Haechan’s demeanor switched on a dime when he noticed Jeno was in his house. 
“Because he helped you. And anyone that treats you respectfully without an ulterior motive is alright in my book.”
There was movement in your belly and it wasn’t the babies for once. It was the butterflies. 
Haechan draped his other arm over you, smiling gently as his hand touched your belly. “By the way, is this a good time to mention that I have something to tell you?”
Your face tensed with curiosity. “You’ve already put it out there. Might as well cough it up.”
“Okay, well…,” Haechan started. His confidence seemed to be dissipating. “I was thinking that we should go on a babymoon before the kids get here.”
A single brow lifted from your face. “What?”
“Like a honeymoon, but it’s not a honeymoon. It’s a babymoon,” Haechan explained vaguely, sitting up in a way that meant he was serious. 
“Okay, but wouldn’t we go on a babymoon after we had the baby?”
Haechan gave you a look. “Baby, do you really think that we're going to have that kind of time after the babies are born?”
When he put it like that, the concept made a little more sense. “Fair point. Where would we go though?”
Haechan shrugged. “I was thinking Florida, but of course I’m open to suggestions. This is an us thing.”
“Florida’s good with me,” you said without complaint. 
“Then, Florida it is.”
Only two days later, you were on a plane to Florida with ample snacks and water. Haechan didn’t like to waste any time and you didn’t understand the point in waiting either. The clock was ticking and you were already in the third trimester. 
Sure, it was a last-minute vacation, but you checked in with your doctors and after a few evaluations, they had little problem with you traveling through air for a couple of weeks. 
Florida, specifically Miami, was ripe with obnoxiously hot weather in spite of the faded summer. December was similar in California, cheerful and sunny with occasional rain showers. Given that you were raised in the north, it was an exciting change of pace. 
Which was why you were glaring at Haechan in disappointment when you watched him pull three sets of familiar black leather from his suitcase. Your arms were crossed. “Did you really need to pack three different leather jackets?”
“Yes, absolutely,” he said without hesitating. “Come on, babe, you love seeing me in black leather. It’s what made you fall for me.”
You mercilessly quipped, “Actually, I’m pretty sure that’s what made me turn you away.”
“Whatever,” Haechan retorted, pulling another leather jacket from his suitcase. 
All you could do was shake your head. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear the same leather jacket twice.”
Haechan chuckled. “Now that’s an exaggeration. Besides, I need to have plenty to pass down to our kids. They’re gonna have to look extra cool when we go biking together. I can’t be seen with anything less.”
Your heart draped over your racing heart. “Haechan, you cannot take our kids on a motorcycle.”
“Of course not. Not with you knowing about it.”
Your heart was skipping. You were absolutely going to need to have a conversation with his mother. He’s definitely his father’s son. 
“I was kidding. It was a joke,” Haechan said playfully, but the mischievousness in his countenance was obvious. 
You rolled your eyes. “Sure it was.”
Whether it was or wasn’t, Haechan would never tell you. You would just have to cling to hope that he wouldn’t do something like that without your knowledge. Though you trusted him endlessly, the little snicker coming from his parted lips made you a little unsure. 
Then, the vacation started, and you tried to keep your mind from drifting towards the aftermath of pregnancy. Well, as much as you could with the added pressure weighing down your every footstep. Haechan didn’t want to leave you out of his sight for the next two weeks lest something happened to you.
Though you weren’t due for another five weeks, he wasn’t taking any chances. He waited close by when he surprised you with a prenatal massage and always kept your phones charged in case of emergencies. 
He’s going to be a wonderful father, spoke the smitten voice in your head in rhythm with your soaring heartbeat. He was vigilant, careful. You knew with total confidence that your children would be in the greatest of hands. 
Still, in spite of your mutual worries, neither of you would allow them to stand in the way of your fun. He wandered around the beach with you, sticking your toes in hot sand and taking a dip in the water.
Sporting a two piece swimsuit, you felt somewhat self-conscious meandering just shy of the shore in front of so many people. Though you’d convinced yourself that you were doing a good job at hiding the truth, Haechan grabbed your hand and asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” It was an obvious lie, because you replied way too quickly. 
Haechan’s steps slowed, cocking his head to look at you. “That’s a lie. You answered too fast. And you didn’t ask me why I asked.”
Your shoulders slumped in defeat. “It’s just… that I feel a little exposed.”
Even though that was vague as hell, Haechan knew exactly what you meant and he wouldn’t stand for it for even just a second. “Babe, you’re beautiful. That’ll never change, even if your body wil,” he said, stopping dead in his tracks. 
Your eyes stung with tears. You’d been outside lately, but never this exposed. Never this far into your pregnancy. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t feel like this.”
Haechan shook his head. “Don’t you dare apologize to me. You can feel however the fuck you want. Just remember that I love you regardless of what you look like. And your body’s only changing to cater to the life we’re about to bring into the world.”
That reminder was all you needed. As long as you had Haechan’s love and enough of your own to supply your children, everything else ceased to matter. 
For half a second, you thought about how tired he must’ve been of having to provide you reassurance, but you shooed the thought away. Everything Haechan did for you was because he cared. There were more than a handful of times where Haechan would randomly confess how gorgeous he thought you were and how much he loved you. 
“Thank you,” you whispered. 
Haechan set his arm at your backside. “You have nothing to thank me for. It’s the truth.”
“I know, but I don’t know how I would do any of this without you. You make everything easier. I feel like I can breathe as long as you’re with me.”
Haechan’s heart was unstill. He couldn’t imagine his life any other way. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” he confessed, the sound of his voice featherlight. 
You wanted to test that theory. Mischievous, you squeezed his hand and leaned onto his shoulder, asking, “Would you rather go back to the room?”
What that meant was obvious to Haechan, but it still surprised him. Your sex drive wasn’t as active lately. And not only that, but he was too busy becoming a father to focus on his libido. “Would you be there?”
“I would do a lot more than that,” you retorted. 
Haechan pressed, “But would you want to?”
“Babe, if I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have asked.”
Haechan nodded. It’s not like you were ever afraid to tell him what you wanted. Or what you didn’t want, for that matter. Plus it had been a lifetime since the two of you had sex, and he couldn’t blame you for wanting to get it in before exhaustion became the only thing that drew you to bed. “Say less.”
The walk back to those canopy chairs was eager. Haechan wanted to return to the room as quickly as he could, but patiently remained at your side. 
After collecting your beach towels and rinsing off loose sand (as much as you could in public), you and Haechan walked side-to-side back to the hotel. The sight of your suite coming into view five minutes later made you release a shaky breath of relief.
You and Haechan locked lips almost the second you stood behind the door. Haechan couldn’t wait any longer; he was bursting. Ever since you introduced the idea some twenty minutes ago, all he could think about was putting his hands on you. 
His hands were quick, loosening the string behind your back. Some weeks had passed since he touched you like this. Maybe a month. Now he was remembering what it was like to be caught in your path. 
You separated yourself from him, exhaling, “Bed.”
Haechan grabbed you by the waist and guided you to the bed. When you were there, you climbed your own way up the mattress, with him following closely after. A hand crept into your bare chest and the other behind you, gently craning you onto your back.
Your lips connected again. Fire ascended over you, starting in your heart and stretching elsewhere. His lips were so pretty and kissable. Throwing your mouth against his and sucking on his tongue was something you simply never got bored of. You just couldn’t explain it. 
Haechan pulled back again a couple of moments later, staring at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. “Better?” he asked, eyes sparkling with wonder.  
“Mm-hm,” you sighed contentedly, lacing your fingers through his beautiful head of hair.  
Haechan extended an arm down your calf, teasing the skin before cycling your legs into the air and ripping your panties almost right from underneath you. He so badly wanted to touch you everywhere, gnawing at his lip with an insatiable hunger. “I’ll never get tired of this,” Haechan said wantonly. “Tired of you.”
That was without question. You could feel his half-hard cock growing at the edge of your swollen thigh. Arousal shot through him like a firework and it would take little to nothing to get him excited.
Your heart throbbed in sync with your pussy and your leg, still in Haechan’s itching palms, tensed insatiably. There was nothing that turned you on like being wanted. 
Wishing he would take off those stupid swim trunks, a dangerous thought wrecked through your brain and you asked, “Can I do something this time?”
“Not a chance.”
You snapped, “And why not?”
“Because it’s my responsibility to take care of you. And right now, I just wanna make sure you get wet enough to take my dick,” Haechan replied. 
Your next best option was begging. “Please? I’ll get wet just from seeing your pretty face scrunch. Killing two birds with one stone.”
Haechan’s lips parted to turn you down, but he started to mull over your suggestion. Hope nipped at your heart, twinkling in your eyes. Blowjobs shouldn't've hurt the babies. And he knew you wouldn’t be able to lie on your back for very long anyway. “Fine. How do you wanna do this?”
You were beaming. With Haechan’s help, you kneeled on the mattress before crawling over to the edge of the bed. “I read something online. Let’s try you standing here while I lay on my side.”
Per your request, Haechan shifted to the edge of the bed, stepping out of his swim trunks where his dick was desperately poking around for attention. 
You leaned onto your left side, excitement making your heart beat quicker. And your pussy throb, but you were happily focused on someone else right now. “Feel free to use my mouth.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Haechan said, though he would try not to. 
Pressing your lips against his inner thighs, you brushed them over his skin, feeling his legs tense at your touch. So, so sensitive. You could only imagine what would happen when you sucked his cock into your mouth. 
You reached out to grab a fistful of his cock, just after spitting into the palm of your hand, and started to pump him slowly. More often than not, you started off tentatively; you liked to tease him. There was no point in getting him off if you couldn’t see the irritability and desperation on his handsome face. 
Haechan’s breath hitched. His cock was twitching. You seemed to always know what to do with your hands, in spite of the fact that you never let his cum too quickly. But you knew exactly how to wreck him. 
“You don’t have to tease, you know,” he said, voice a little distant like he wasn’t even there.
“I know,” you replied offhandedly. “But I want to.” And I know you pretend not to like it. 
Haechan huffed, but he was only half upset. Part of him liked when you had total, unmitigated control of his pleasure. 
You didn’t release your grip on his stiffened cock when you’d had your fill of teasing him until you sucked the tip into your warm mouth. There was a breath on Haechan’s end, light and shaky, and you couldn’t wait to replicate it. 
Your cheeks were hollowed. You were eager to take most of him down your throat, but were cautious about your pacing, given that it had been a minute since you sucked the soul out of Haechan. Even you were reluctant to give him head during the first trimester because of the morning sickness. 
“Fuck,” Haechan whined shakily. He was remembering what you said about using your mouth even though he hated that the idea appealed to him.
Haechan’s fingers gripped the sheets, opting not to touch you in case he went too far. His face was tense with pleasure and those featherlight moans were like music to your ears. You took more of him, hopeful to throat every inch, and looked into his hazy eyes to watch as it broke him just the way you knew it would. 
The heat was getting to be too much. His thoughts were racing by quicker than he could articulate them, all coming from his mouth being gentle sounds. But his head was saying, She’s going to be the death of me. And I’m okay with that. 
Then, he couldn’t hold back any longer, and started to thrust into your mouth. Though there wasn’t any warning and you only half expected it, you somehow willed yourself to relax. It was so goddamn hot. Pretending that it was your cunt his stiff cock was fucking got you even wetter. 
Even you were moaning and the vibrations shooting through his cock made the room whirl a little. And as if it couldn’t get any better, you pinched the skin of his thigh between your nails, plucking a lethal whine out of him. “That’s making me crazy, baby,” he exhaled, another groan escaping him when he met your stare.
You pressed your tongue flat against his shaft and Haechan swore he saw Michael Jackson looking down at him for a second. Please, was at the back of his throat, but he didn’t want to cum. Not right now. He wanted to cum when he was deep inside of you. 
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Stop,” he panted, blinking as if to clear the haze from his eyes. 
You grinded to a halt when you heard those words and noticed him no longer fucking your mouth, wiping saliva from your lips with the back of your hand. Your cheeks hurt, but it was worth it. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t wanna cum,” Haechan said, gravel. “Not unless I’m inside you. And even then, I might nut too quick.”
You waved off his concern and replied, “It’s okay if you do. I might tap out soon.”
“Duly noted. What’s the plan?”
You beckoned Haechan forward with your hand, watching him creep closer. When he bent down to your level, you whispered something in his ear. 
A few moments later, Haechan was behind you in the bed, your naked back flush against his bare chest. Your breaths were thick and rough while you became entrapped in his body’s warmth. Bending your knees, you counted down the seconds until he would be inside, holding your breath when he entered from behind you. 
And you released it when Haechan grunted at the squeeze of your vice-like cunt upon the first couple of thrusts. You were soaked, just like you said. Getting him off must’ve really done a number.  
His voice was so close to your ear, closer than you thought. “You know the drill, baby. Tell me if you can’t take it.”
You nodded. It was all you could do not to splinter then and there. 
Haechan was tentatively prodding, slow. He was careful not to do you any harm, because if he did, he’d never forgive himself. Luckily enough, what you were feeling was far from painful. With every inch he reluctantly pushed into you, your head was deeper into the clouds. 
There was nothing like being skin to skin with your lover, heart to heart. That was the better half of the appeal when it came to sex nowadays. Pleasure was seeked by the togetherness of intimacy, less than the emphasis of orgasm. 
But he certainly still knew how to get you there. 
“You always feel so good,” you moaned, stretching your hand to reach his forearm. This whole trip had been nothing short of romantic thus far. 
Something about your praise made all of the blood flow to Haechan’s dick, heavy and quick. “You ready for me?”
“Mm-hm. Move, baby,” you whispered, knowing he was testing the waters. “Just relax. You’re not going to break me, I promise.”
Haechan acknowledged your consent with the quietest of sounds, starting to pace himself in and out. His rhythm was steady, but none too rough. It was loving. 
It tickled when his lips grazed the back of your throat in a litter of kisses, breathless giggles escaping you. Wheeling your head, you turned to give him a peck on the mouth, watching the smile coax its way onto Haechan’s face. He has the prettiest smile ever. And I’ll do anything to protect it. 
Anything and everything. It was no secret that Haechan doubted himself sometimes. He rarely spoke to you about it, not wanting to lump his feelings on top of yours because he thought yours were more significant, given that you were the one bringing these children to life. But you wish he knew how incredible he was to you. 
Though you never failed to remind him. Even now, just looking into his eyes with total adoration, Haechan couldn’t understand. He wanted to see himself the way that you saw him. Thanks to your relentlessness, he was getting a little closer. 
Reaching out to touch his cheek, you whispered, “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone as much as I want you.”
“Fuck,” Haechan groaned, like those words alone would be the death of him. Which wasn’t too far from the truth. 
You playfully teased, “You always say the most romantic things.”
Haechan’s face flushed, but those explicatives were at the tip of his tongue. When he was deep inside you like this, his hands cupping your hips, it couldn’t be helped. “That’s funny. I was about to say the same thing,” he lied, losing himself with every sweet thrust.
Your lips parted in a laugh, but it was cut off by a moan. Between the sight and sound, Haechan couldn’t tell which was better. Watching you burst with rapture turned him on. Listening to you burst with rapture turned him on. You turned him on.
All you could feel was ecstasy. It had been said, but the whole world stopped when you were alone with Haechan and it didn’t affect you. When he was fucking all the stress out of your body, in spite of the heat scorching down your skin, you could somehow breathe. 
You faced away from him again, eyes fluttered closed. You were imagining him, even though he was right behind you. There was no space between your bodies and sometimes it was as if you were one person. Like you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. 
Which was ironic. Your first encounter wasn’t so long ago, even if it felt like a lifetime had passed since then. You still vividly recalled wanting nothing to do with him. 
Yet here you were. Carrying his baby, his offspring. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
Haechan extended his hand over your lower stomach, reaching out to touch your clit. Your reaction was instant. You gasped, elevating to highs you never knew were in reach. Sex hit different knowing the extremes you were capable of when Haechan was giving himself to you completely. 
“I’m so close, baby,” Haechan warned. He could feel it approaching, but it didn’t matter to him if he didn’t cum either. 
That excited you. Your core throbbed and you purred, “Give it to me, baby boy. Cum inside of me.”
“Don’t say it like that,” Haechan told you, coming up on the edge. He rocked into you harder, wincing his eyes closed. 
You didn’t skip a beat. “Why? Too afraid you’re gonna bust a nut?”
When Haechan said nothing, you grinned to yourself. Then, his other hand came to your boobs, gently touching your nipples. You sighed out, breathless.
Now it was you unraveling. Like clockwork, your back started to arch away from him, your body too stimulated from his hands on your nipple and clit. It just felt so good - the whole room started to spin. 
Moving your hair out of the way, Haechan leaned even closer to you. If possible. You were obsessed with his mouth nipping at the shell of your ear. Voice at the back of your neck. “You’re gonna be a great mother. I can feel that you are,” he said, breath tickling your neck. 
You whimpered, listening to his gentle tone factored with the hot sound of sex thumping throughout the room. 
“Our kids are going to love you from the moment that they lie on your chest and get to see you. They’ll grow up lucky that they get to call you their mother, because even before they were born, you’ve done nothing but your best to care for and nurture them.”
“Haechan…,” you trailed. Your eyes watered. 
Haechan added, “And I’ll be there, proud as ever. Because if there’s any woman that’s fit to raise a baby, it’s you.”
Only seconds ago you didn’t think you would be able to go any longer, sensing yourself on the brink of tapping out, but that spiral ripped it out of you. You shuddered with climax, shifting away from his touch. The sweetest cry escaped you and you found his hand to anchor yourself through your orgasm.
That did it for Haechan in the end. He came just at a glimpse of you finishing on his cock, moaning your name darkly. Stifling his sounds into your shoulder. You milked his load out of him and Haechan swore it was mind-numbing to its core.
A moment passed before you each stilled. Sticky sweat connected your gleaming skin as you released open-mouthed exhales in an attempt to stabilize your breath. For a second, eyes fluttering, your brain was peacefully empty. 
Minutes later, you cocked your head and squeaked, “I’m going to the bathroom. Just rest. You don’t need to follow me.”
Haechan nodded, finally pulling out of you. Something about times like this made his heart swell and his skin swelter. Those moments of silence after. 
Wobbling inside the bathroom attached to your suite, you shut the door behind yourself, in spite of knowing Haechan would probably come in a minute or two. There was a gigantic smile on your face. Finding somebody that cared about you so much was a blessing. 
You meandered over to the toilet so that you could pee. Then, when you finished, you came to the sink to wash your hands of germs. The mirror in front of you was wide and tall. You stared at your reflection, letting out a contented little breath, and set your palms on your tummy. 
As to be expected, Haechan’s voice sounded from behind the door when you didn’t return a couple of moments after he heard you flush. “Baby, are you good? Can I come in?”
You quipped, “Haven’t you come inside of enough things?”
Haechan snickered, twisting the knob. Very funny. He was pleasantly surprised to see you slowly rubbing a hand over your pregnant belly, softly smiling even if you didn’t realize that you were.
Haechan came up to you. Your heart quickened when you sensed his warmth behind you, kissing your shoulder. “Was I too much?”
You shook your head. “It was amazing. I didn’t think I would make it that far.”
“What can I say? I’ve never not blown a woman’s mind,” Haechan joked, lips brushing the back of your neck. A litter of love bruises were there. 
You rolled your eyes. Then, you giggled. 
It was silent for a little while. Both of you were too in awe to speak. With your focus drawn entirely to your children, it was all too easy to become paralyzed with adoration. And they weren’t even born yet.
Haechan’s hand came around your hip, dropping below your ribs. You could feel him hesitating - his body tensed against your skin - but he ultimately said, “Not to be that guy, but I’m kind of glad you’re taking a step back.”
“Really?” You knew that. His happiness was never not clear to you. 
“Yeah, baby, I mean…,” he trailed, thinking. Longing. “Spending more time with you, bonding as a family has really changed me for the better, I think.”
I know what you mean, came your thoughts, but you just hummed. Haechan knew that you were listening. And you knew that he wanted to talk. Your fingers crept up his arm, reassuring. 
Haechan’s mind was racing. Blaring. “Becoming a father hasn’t just changed my life. It’s changed the way I look at life. Life is short, baby. The most beautiful moments of life are short, but they’re meaningful, because I have you. And I’ve got to make that count.”
You shook your head. “We’ve got to make that count.”
Haechan nodded, chuckling. “Yes, you’re exactly right. This is a group effort.”
Your eyes lifted to look at him in the mirror, and you finally realized your lips were curled. “You’re gonna be a good father, you know,” you said levelly. 
Haechan let his hands wander over your belly, running them gently over the flesh. There was a twinkle in his gaze and a beaming smile at his lips. “I can believe that now. And I owe all of the credit to you. I know what I want and who I am. You’ve made me see things from a different point of view.”
“Ironically, I feel the same way,” you said, finding some amusement in this moment of clarity. “It seems like only yesterday I was terrified of having a baby. I didn’t want things to change. The future was so scary.”
“And it’s not anymore?” Haechan asked.
“A little,” you confessed. “But knowing that I have you makes it easier. And knowing that our kids have someone like you, I can relax.”
“You know what they say. The best matches are people who bring out the best in each other.”
You bobbed your head. “Sometimes, I can’t tell if I grew because of you, or if I grew with you. But I think it’s both now. And now we get to do that for a lifetime.”
Yeah, I get that, Haechan thought. You don’t have a single clue, do you? Just how badly I wanna seal the deal, tie the knot. But I’ll take it one step at a time, because I know how you are. You’re slow and steady, baby. And I’m reckless and quick, but we make it work, because you know what you want. And so do I. 
“Yes,” Haechan sighed happily. “Yes, we do.”
A quick tear escaped your eye, but you wiped it away. You were overwhelmed in the best way. 
Haechan kissed your cheek, knowing all of your pleasures and your pains. And he kept them inside his heart in a vault. “I hope they have your eyes.”
Your brows furrowed in wonder. “I think our genes might be evenly distributed.”
“That is not how it works, baby.”
I know, but I want to have hope. It’s wishful thinking,” you replied, sighing. 
Haechan chuckled. “Either way, they’ll be beautiful. And they have a handsome father and breathtaking mother to thank.”
“That’s so vain,” you retorted. But you didn’t disagree. 
Haechan kneeled to the floor, sitting just shy of your stomach. His hands were still lovingly touching you. “Hi, son and daughter. It’s Daddy. I’m sure you’re sick of my voice by now, but that’s too bad. You have to deal with it for eighteen years.”
You shook your head, a stupid smile on your face. Your cheeks hurt. Somehow, you just couldn’t get enough of this boy. 
“Mommy says that Daddy is vain. Can you believe that? Me, of all people, vain. I mean, if you look as good as me one day, you will be, too,” Haechan said exaggeratedly.
“Babe, be careful what you tell our kids,” you chastised. 
“She’s scolding me now. Mommy can get scary when she’s angry, you know. You better not wind up on the receiving end of her wrath.”
You snorted. 
“Anyways, all I really wanted to say is that Mommy and Daddy love you very much. We can’t wait to see you,” Haechan whispered. Your heart burst when he pressed his lips to your belly.
You just knew that he was the one for you. 
The rest of the vacation - or babymoon as your babies’ daddy enthusiastically dubbed it - was a breeze. Before you knew it, you were on a flight back home. Beach air and rushing water was over. And California had never been more foreign. 
Back in your own home, you spent your hours reminiscing in between yoga sessions. You were grateful that Jaehyun suggested the babymoon. It was a much needed period of relaxation to distract you from the looming disaster of childbirth. 
And you were sitting just at its door. Because your pregnancy was considered high-risk and you were not inclined to have a c-section delivery, your doctor recommended labor induction. When you didn’t go into labor after twenty four hours, you started to feel unnerved. 
You had nightmares about what would happen if things went wrong sometimes. Your doctor and childbirth educator made sure that the risks were outlined and clear. One wrong move and you could lose your kids, not to mention that anything could happen to you. 
That was why Doctor Stakes wasn’t willing to risk natural birth. Having twins alone constituted a high-risk pregnancy and they were actively monitoring your babies positions to make sure they weren’t breech.
Haechan was restless, but he tried to keep it together for your sake. He called your name, hand in yours. “Baby, I can feel you tensing. Breathe,” he told you calmly. 
Your voice trembled, “I’m scared.”
“I know. I am, too, but I’m right here with you. We can overcome anything as long as we’re together.”
You bobbed your head and sucked in a breath. Had he not been there with you, it would’ve been a hell of a lot scarier. 
An eternity and a half seemed to pass before you finally went into labor. The contractions started at a distance and you likened them to the preparation trials you endured during the second trimester. Then, they were shorter apart, and the pain intensified so much it felt as if there was no air. 
At the first nick of pain, you immediately pressed for an epidural. Your childbirth already wasn’t natural. And if they thought you would be able to do this without medication, they completely overestimated you.
It took fifteen minutes for a nurse to administer the epidural and another fifteen for the effects to settle in. Haechan never let go of your hand unless he absolutely needed to and he was staring at you with a newfound respect. And his respect for you was already in the heavens. 
“This is crazy,” you wheezed, pulse quickened. 
“It is,” Haechan agreed. “But you can do this. You’re stronger than I ever have been.”
You tugged your lips into a smile. “I’ve been thinking about us. Instead of the risks and stuff.”
That was a pretty good idea. Haechan said, “Talk to me. Tell me about it.”
“We got a new house, like I said. The kids are roughly five years old. They’re helping you make omelets because you know that I like them. There’s a cat. We let them name it. And I’m completely oblivious to what’s going on.”
Haechan snickered. That sounded like his offspring and he hadn’t even met them yet. 
You added, “I thought about something else. There’s a private photoshoot. You’re the photographer, of course. The kids are in your leather jackets, but they’re oversized on them. The whole thing is so cute.”
Haechan kissed your cheek. His heart was thumping in his chest like a hammer and there was a sudden gush of warmth shooting through him. “I bet it is. I can see it playing out in my head right now. We should have a shoot like that one day. With all of us in black leather.”
You chuckled. It was tempting. 
There was so much action in the room. People were moving from place to place to ensure that your babies were delivered safely. Your midwife assured you that the process was moving smoothly. 
With that out in the open, you could breathe a little easier. Though you and Haechan still had no intention of separating from each other. The nurses would have to forcibly pry him away from you.
“It’s time to push,” came your midwife’s level voice. 
The nurses were helping you realize when you needed to push. The movements felt like a distant pressure in your lower back, courtesy of the epidural. None of what was happening to you seemed real and all left to ground you in reality was the knowledge that it was really happening. 
“This is happening,” you said shakily. “Oh my god. This is actually happening.”
Haechan uttered the dreaded words, “Babe, relax.”
“No! I’m never doing this again!” you snapped dramatically, overwhelmed with all the motion. “You need to get a vasectomy!”
Haechan took your outburst in stride. “I’ll do anything you want.”
“Fuck,” you exhaled, an invisible cool shiver running down your spine. 
The first push alone was exhausting. You started to feel lightheaded and as if you would faint from the pressure. There was a lull of relief when the nurse permitted you to take a break to regain strength. 
Tears stung your eyes. “I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can,” Haechan told you in a heartbeat. 
Your confidence in yourself started to dissipate, but with your faithful partner and a dedicated team of medical staff reassuring you through the process, you forced the negativity out of your head and focused on your children. 
“Another push,” your midwife urged. 
You took one big, stabilizing breath before it was ripped out of your lungs again. Your legs had gone completely numb. There was still a slight degree of discomfort in your back that heightened a little with every push, but you winced your eyes closed and rid the thoughts. 
“Breathe with me, baby,” Haechan said during the next break. 
With what little strength you had, you nodded your head and followed his breathing patterns. Your heart seemed more tired than the rest of you as you physically shook. The blood was rushing through you to a painful degree.  
You squeezed Haechan’s hand, which was what you had already been doing. His metacarpals were brave soldiers. “Tell me something.”
In typical Haechan fashion, he was cool as a cucumber. You would never guess that he was terrified for your life, but he pulled himself together. “Anything?”
“Yes. Anything.”
“When I was eleven, I wanted a leather jacket exactly like the black and red one Michael Jackson wore in Thriller,” he confessed. “Then, my mom got me one. And I hated it.”
Your brows furrowed. “Why?” 
“It was black and orange.”
You snickered. Now you were thinking about an angry little Haechan being a sulky and petulant mess. 
When it was time for the final shoves, you had just enough energy to will yourself to keep pushing. Your body was being put through the most gruesome test ever. But you kept the negativity to a minimum and thought only of your family for your own sanity. 
And then it was done. There were loud whimpers. Your baby girl was given to you first, followed by your son. You couldn’t remember a time when you were more occupied with emotion. 
Haechan gawked in awe. For a moment he couldn’t even believe that this wasn’t just a dream and fought off tears the best he could. You, on the other hand, couldn’t stop the tears blurring your vision. Your kids were here at last and they were the light of your life. 
The first hour was spent making plenty of skin-to-skin contact and bonding with your babies. Haechan was smiling so hard that his cheeks hurt. He was already obsessed with the tiny little humans he’d helped make and all of your mutual sacrifice seemed so worth it. 
There were many things that had to happen before you could leave the hospital, but two days later, you were at home resting. Sleep was all you wanted (even though your vocal children had other plans). Which, after the exhausting process you endured only days before, was well-deserved. 
One week passed since you were discarded from the hospital. After a period spent catching up on rest to the best of your ability, you started to accept visitors. Chaewon and Jaemin, the wonderful godparents that they were, assisted with fielding phone calls and text messages from curious loved ones. 
The mood in your home was different the day you and Haechan allowed visitors. Your bedroom was like a club and Haechan was serving as a bouncer, letting them in one-by-one in case you got overwhelmed. 
Chaewon had seen the babies a little earlier than the others. She was your best friend, after all. “They’re so cute,” she’d gushed. 
The babies in question were nested comfortably on your chest. They were also resting. There was a smile tugging at your lips, irresistible. Your heart was at peace. 
Ironically, Mark was the first to show up. Again. “Yo, yo, yo. Where’s my niece and nephew?”
“Shh. They’re sleeping,” Haechan scolded from the door. 
Mark’s eyes were wide, lips parted. “They must be sleepy, huh?”
You quipped, “Yeah. Apparently, wailing all night long is exhausting.”
“I was thinking they’d be tired of Haechan’s shit, but yeah, that checks out too,” Mark retorted. 
Haechan cursed under his breath. Then, he said aloud, “If I wasn’t a better man, I would pummel you to the ground.”
“A better man, my ass,” Mark taunted. His words were promptly followed by a gasp and he put his hands over his mouth. “I meant… my butt.”
You giggled. 
Mark switched on a dime. Concern washed over his face, tenderness in his eyes. “Dude, are you okay, though? Like, pregnancy is huge. It had to be eventful.”
“It was a lot of things,” you murmured, briefly bringing yourself back to that moment. You weren’t going to miss it too much, but it was beautiful. “I went through so many emotions. But I’m happy we’re all here.”
Mark bobbed his head. “Yeah, I am, too.”
When he exited the room, Winter promptly entered. And she gasped at the first sight of your babies, eyes dampening. “Oh my god!”
Her reaction made you snicker. “Yes, I know. They’re adorable.”
“Understatement of the year,” she drawled. “These are by far the cutest kids I’ve ever seen in my life.”
You grinned. “Thanks.”
Jaemin poked around the corner. Much like Chaewon, he had already seen your babies and spoken to them, cooing and babbling. “Somebody’s sleepy,” he retorted. 
You bobbed your head. “They should be.”
Jaemin didn’t miss a beat, “Guess they got sick of putting up with this guy.”
Haechan’s eyes narrowed and he hissed, “You’re late. Mark already made that joke.”
Winter giggled. You stifled one on your boyfriend’s behalf. 
There was a gap in between the next visits large enough for you to take a nap and you didn’t rouse until shortly before your fifth visitor. 
f
As if it wasn’t obvious, you ignored Jeno’s nervousness. He looked a little surprised, lips parted when he caught a glimpse of your kids from the door. After he made small talk with Haechan, he entered and said, “Wow.”
Your babies were awake now. And surprisingly calm. For now. “I know.”
Jeno cleared his throat. “They’re beautiful. Congratulations, both of you.”
“Thank you,” you whispered, staring adoringly at your kids. 
Jeno searched tirelessly for things to say. He didn’t want the wrong words to come out of his mouth, but you personally inviting him over shocked him. He asked, “How was labor?”
“Laborious,” you replied dryly. 
Jeno snorted. 
Haechan wasn’t shy to brag, “She was a champ. I’ve never been more proud.”
Your face was warm. And so was your heart. 
“I’m sure she was,” Jeno said, gleaming. 
You tilted your head. “Would you like to hold one of them?”
Jeno gawked. “Can I?”
You nodded. 
“Okay. Yeah, sure,” Jeno stammered out. 
Glancing down at your son, you cooed, “You wanna go to Uncle Jeno? Yeah?”
Shock flickered over Jeno’s face, as if he couldn’t believe the words leaving your mouth. With maternal cautiousness, you handed him your closest child, which happened to be your son. Jeno watched for his head without having to be instructed, holding your baby as if he would shatter. 
These babies were a part of you and Haechan, and Jeno swore that if there was anything you ever needed him to do for them, he wouldn’t hesitate to come running. 
“Hi,” Jeno greeted, smiling at your son. “You’re really lucky, you know. You have the best mom and dad on the whole planet.”
You smiled softly.
“Am I…,” Ryujin trailed, strolling down the hallway. Imagine her shock when she noticed Jeno standing there. “Late?”
Jeno cleared his throat. “Ryujin.”
Ryujin’s arms folded. “Jeno.”
“You look good,” Jeno said, mouth suddenly dry. 
Ryujin was eyeing him, skeptical, as if she still didn’t trust him. But you could see the sadness in her stare. “You, too,” she replied quietly. 
Jeno gently placed your son back in your arms, making sure he was secure before he released his grip. 
“We forgive him, Ryujin,” Haechan said, even if it took months. 
Ryujin’s eyes flickered. Jeno stepped in front of her and glanced at the floor. If there was something he wanted to tell her, he lacked the courage. 
“Look me in the eyes.”
Jeno did it. He would do anything to make his mistakes up to the people he owed to. 
Ryujin wrapped her arms around him. Jeno stiffened for a second, not expecting that of all reactions, but gently hugged her back. While they were reconciling, you and Haechan glanced at each other. There was a telepathic exchange of thought between the two of you. 
Then, Ryujin pulled back, and whined, “Ugh, I just realized something. We’re uneven again.”
Haechan snorted in disbelief. Of course that was what she was worried about. 
“Not if you include the kids plus Haechan and I’s future cat,” you quipped smartly. 
Ryujin beamed in amusement. “I think I can work with that.”
Glancing down at your two lovely kids, the cutest of hats on their tiny little heads, you grinned and said, “Yeah, so do I.”
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feeder86 · 2 months
Text
Selfish
“Why are you arranging to go out with the boys? You know we’re going up to help my parents with redecorating this weekend!” Lucy complained, standing straight up and looking down at Ryan, laid out on the couch.
“We’re doing what?” Ryan asked, completely perplexed. “We were there last weekend!”
“Yeah, and I told my dad you’d give him a hand with the wallpapering this next weekend as well,” Lucy continued in her whining tone.
“Their entire lounge?” Ryan shot back. “Nobody told me!”
“Well…” Lucy mumbled, suddenly realising that Ryan was right. “I’m telling you now.”
Ryan huffed in frustration. He hadn’t had a night out with the boys in months. He’d thought, when he married Lucy, that he was setting himself up for a good life. She didn’t want kids, she wasn’t crazy about him visiting the gym all the time and she was a fully qualified chef! However, two years in and Ryan had never had so little time for himself, endlessly fixing up their apartment just as Lucy wanted it, then constantly heading out to see her parents; always being signed up for some tedious maintenance tasks now that Lucy’s dad was getting on a bit and living off his retirement income. “Fine,” he sighed, deleting his planned message to the group chat with the boys. “I guess I can see my friends when I’ve got a couple of weeks off next month.”
“Oh, yes!” Lucy nodded, making Ryan instantly regret reminding her about his time off. The cogs in her head clearly rolling into action, imagining all of the jobs he could get done in that time.
“Ryan!” cheered his buddies a full nine weeks later, amazed that he had actually made it out. “We haven’t seen you in ages!”
“I’m only here for one of two drinks. I dropped Lucy off in town to do some shopping,” he explained to them, not wanting to get their hopes up.
“You’re not coming to the club?” Adam asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise after giving him the biggest hug.
“No… no. I wish I could, but…” he grumbled, considering the best way to explain how much Lucy was monopolising his time; how frustrating and demanding she had become since they got married. . “...I’ve got commitments,” he simply stated, deciding not to poison his time with his friends by complaining about the person who had kept him away from them for so long. 
“Don’t worry about it, buddy,” Jack jumped in, filling the silent void that was killing the mood. “Life happens.”
“Jack!” Ryan exclaimed, seeing his high school best friend and doing a slight double take. The guy had altered quite a bit since Ryan last saw him. Where had that double chin come from? How was he filling that shirt with all that padding in his stomach? What the hell had happened? “How long has it been, buddy?”
“I saw you at Ginny and Fran’s house warming, about four months ago,” he answered. “I introduced you to my new girlfriend, Michelle.”
“Oh, yeah,” I remember, Ryan nodded, thinking back to how drunk Lucy had been that night, and how early they had had to leave. But Jack hadn’t looked so overweight back then. They’d tried out their friends’ new swimming pool. Jack had been one of the first ones in. He definitely wasn’t out of shape. Not like he appeared to be now.
As luck would have it, when the guys all went to grab seats, Ryan ended up next to Jack, right on the end of a long, rectangular table. Back in their high school days, the pair of them had been the best of friends, and that old rapport immediately came back every time they met; even after months of separation. Jack had always been the bad influence that Ryan’s parents had never approved of. He’d been banned from hanging out with the guy on multiple occasions when he was growing up and, even now, he still felt like he was doing something he shouldn’t, giggling away at the crude jokes that tumbled out of Jack’s mouth with ease. 
“So, things are going well with Michelle?” Ryan asked, spotting that Jack had already referenced her several times in their conversation.
“Things are going great!” Jack beamed. He leaned in a little closer, clearly not wanting the other guys to hear. “We’ve even talked about getting married!”
At this, Ryan’s eyebrows flew up. “Married? After four months?” he whispered back, knowing that Jack didn’t want this broadcasting. He remembered how promiscuous his friend had been during his college days. If Ryan had been asked to pick any one of the guys here who was least likely to ever settle down, he would have chosen Jack without a second thought.
“I know!” Jack beamed, leaning back and placing his hands on the top of his stout little paunch, which jutted out into a proper shelf as they sat down. “I’m so ready for it though,” he smiled, seeming to rub his stomach mindlessly. “I’m actually really excited about the idea.”
Round and round Jack’s hands went, rubbing that tight ball of stomach fat, pulling Ryan’s gaze into it. “I’m happy for you,” he mumbled back.
Jack looked around, checking that no one else was listening in, then he turned himself a little more into Ryan, about to divulge even more private information. “Michelle’s super kinky!” he whispered.
Ryan chuckled and leaned in as well. His own sex life was so monotonous these days, he was actually quite ready to hear about someone else having a good time. “Oh yeah? She certainly looked pretty flexible when I met her that one time,” he grinned, settling into dirty ‘guy talk’ with enthusiasm.
“Oh, buddy!” Jack sighed, rolling his eyes and giving a huge exhale. “You would not believe it. She has me wrapped around her little finger. Absolutely anything she wants, I do for her.”
“That doesn’t sound too dissimilar to me and Lucy,” Ryan quipped, chuckling at his own joke.
“No, I’m not talking about boring shit, like decorating,” Jack shot back, having heard all about Ryan’s grumblings. “I’m talking about really kinky, submissive stuff.”
“Really?” Ryan smirked. “I never thought she’d be the dominant type.”
“No,” Jack agreed enthusiastically. “No one else knows. She hides it really well.”
Ryan had to admit that he was getting a little turned on. “So, what type of stuff does she make you do?” he asked next; his eyes twinkling with boyish interest, just as much as Jack’s were.
“All sorts,” Jack answered, his hands slipping onto his gut again. “When we started going out, I was still trying to act like the playboy I used to be. Michelle was having none of it. She’s put guys like me in their place before. Trust me, I’ve seen the pictures!” he smirked.”But her biggest turn on is making sure I overeat and get bigger.”
“Seriously?” Ryan asked, now understanding why Jack kept on holding his stomach. “I thought girls hated it when guys put on weight?”
“It’s an absolute fucking dream!” Jack replied, lowering his voice even further. Just the fact that he had sworn showed Ryan how turned on his friend was, simply by talking about it. “I get home and she’ll sit me in my gaming chair and set everything up for me. Then she brings me endless snacks and beers; a few sodas, cream cakes. Michelle won’t even let me get up. I do nothing around my apartment at all! No washing, no cleaning and certainly no cooking! She gets off on controlling my entire lifestyle when I’m at home. Then rewarding me for it.”
“Dude, that’s amazing!” Ryan had to agree, feeling surprisingly jealous. He’d been up until almost midnight last night, fixing a new shelf for Lucy’s candles, whilst his buddy Jack had been gaming, eating and getting pleasured the entire time.
“You see why I’m so keen to marry her now?” Jack joked back. “Can you believe it? I’m actually living out our dream that we used to talk about in high school.”
Ryan looked a little perplexed, trying to remember what they used to talk about ten years ago.
In turn, Jack seemed a little surprised that Ryan was struggling to recall. “You remember? Mr Hanson was such a bad gym teacher, we used to joke that we would just find some girls who liked fat guys and never have to put on a pair of itchy gym shorts again.”
“Oh, yeah!” Ryan chuckled. “That worked out well for me,” he sighed sarcastically. “I ended up marrying a professional chef, but I’m now ten pounds lighter than I was when we married.”
“Dude, there are other girls out there,” Jack went on enthusiastically. “Believe me! My eyes have been opened in these last few months! If you want the life that I’ve got…” he proclaimed, rubbing his stomach once more, “trust me, you can have it!”
Ryan nodded. No one else had dared to suggest he thought about a life beyond Lucy. Whenever he raised his concerns or annoyances about their marriage, people were keen to stamp them out, reminding him, in their accusatory tones, that marriage was all about compromising. Now, here was Jack, actively encouraging him to imagine being with someone else instead. It was the reason why Jack was, and always would be, Ryan’s very best friend.
Ryan looked at himself in the mirror a couple of weeks later. It was Sunday night. He should have been well rested, and yet he looked nothing but tired. The dirt under his fingernails from digging up Lucy’s parents’ garden all weekend was still visible in places, despite scrubbing for so long in the shower. His ribs were showing in his chest and, although he was built with plenty of muscle, he’d never looked so lanky and slim in his life. He thought of Jack and his life of pleasure and luxury. This… this tiredness and exhaustion was not what he wanted for himself. He looked almost ill.
Life had to change.
Ryan raised his cell phone to the mirror and took a picture of himself. This would be his lowest point, he decided with determination. From now on, things were going to change. He never wanted to see himself like this ever again.
“What’s all this?” Lucy complained, slipping into Ryan’s truck on their way to the supermarket. She held up several pieces of packaging, wrappers from fast food places and sugary snacks. “Is this what you’ve been eating when you’ve been in work this week?”
Ryan nodded without shame. “I feel like I’m too skinny. I’m trying to put on a few pounds.”
“Since when?” Lucy blasted back indignantly. “I’ve never told you you’re too skinny. I like the way you look.”
“I don’t,” Ryan shrugged. “I’ve never liked being skinny. I was always bigger than this growing up. In fact, I was actually quite chubby when I started high school.”
“Well, no. Sorry,” Lucy stated, without compromise. “I’m your wife, and I say no.”
Ryan looked at her in disbelief. “It’s my body,” he declared. “And I want to feel good about it.”
“I said no!” Lucy spat, brushing all the packaging into the footwell and sitting herself down. “Now, let’s talk about something else.”
Ryan got in, sat down and slammed the door shut, neither of them speaking for the entire ride.
‘Fastest ways to gain weight’ Ryan typed into the internet search that evening after Lucy had gone to bed. He quickly skipped through anything that dealt with muscle gains and focused solely on those that promoted increases in fat. He may have married Lucy, but she didn’t own him. In fact, she was the one who needed to learn that more than anyone. This was one ‘no’ that he wasn’t about to cave into.
“You’re looking well,” cried Ryan’s aunt as he stopped over to fix her leaking tap.
“Thanks,” he smiled back. “I feel quite well,” he agreed. “I’ve been trying to put some weight back on these last few weeks. I was starting to get far too skinny.”
“I was saying that to your mom, but she didn’t agree with me. You had gone dreadfully skinny.”
Ryan nodded in agreement. He had always been much more on his aunt’s wavelength than anyone else in his family. “I found some recipes online and I buy in these little calorie shakes that seem to work well on me. I’ve put on about 20lbs altogether,” he explained, raising his shirt briefly to show that his stomach was indeed a little thicker. “Lucy isn’t too pleased about it. But she’s never happy these days.”
“Well, you were never skinny growing up, were you?” his aunt nodded. “You always had a sweet tooth, I remember. You used to eat me out of house and home when you came over!”
“That’s why I’m so tall,” Ryan laughed. “I was always so well fed growing up.”
The pair of them laughed and Ryan packed up his things. In the old days, he would have headed straight home to his wife, but now he was feeling the need to be much more selfish, heading istead to the fast food place he had grown quite attached to and determined that he would at last defeat the Mega Monster Meal that had, up until now, eluded him.
“Come on, we’ve got to go!” Lucy complained, checking the time as Ryan rushed about after his shower. He’d been late home, getting caught up at a job, sending his wife into a tailspin as she tried to get him ready for her friend’s engagement party. She’d laid his suit out on the bed, his underwear, shoes and socks; knowing exactly how she wanted him to look.
Ryan hated being rushed. So what if they missed the first twenty minutes? Was the world really going to end? It was the side of Lucy he hated most, struggling to pull his socks on as his feet were still so wet.
“Oh,” Ryan mumbled, sucking in his stomach and trying to button up the suit pants. He tugged and pulled, holding his breath as much as he could. “I’m too big for them!” he chuckled with amusement, remembering that he had bought the suit for a wedding less than a year ago, when he was much skinnier. “What a waste of money, these were!” he joked lightheartedly. “I only got to wear them once!”
Lucy stared on in horror. She’d told him again and again to cut down on his eating. Couldn’t he see how bad he looked? Wasn’t he ashamed of how his stomach was starting to develop into a little paunch.
“Relax,” he whispered back, trying to calm her down. “I’ll just pair the jacket with my jeans and then we can head straight out.”
However, Lucy’s face had flushed with anger. “No,” she declared, grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. “I’m going by myself. I’m not being seen with you, looking like this.”
Ryan stared at her in disbelief. He didn’t have words, listening as she stormed down the stairs and threw the front door closed. He heard her car start and he peeked out the window as that too stormed off down the street; out of view. 
Breathing out a sigh of relief, Ryan threw himself down onto the bed; still dressed only in his underwear and socks. How had he married someone so fucking unreasonable? She was just so… 
But then a thought came to Ryan, making his brain tingle into life. Had he actually just been given the night to himself? The whole house? Just him? All evening?
He looked down at his thicker stomach and smiled with delight at it. “Thank you!” he laughed aloud, managing to pinch a little and jiggle it in happiness. He felt a twitch in his groin, realising that with the night to himself, he could watch porn or do anything that he wanted. He could order food in. Lots of it! “Yes!”, he nodded, getting more excited and turned on now. This was his night. Free reign to be as selfish as he liked.
Ryan proceeded to indulge himself in every way possible, looking down at his bloated stomach a couple of hours later. Maybe this was it, he thought to himself. Maybe this was the way out of his miserable life with Lucy. He could seize upon her dislike of his weight gain and run with it. Why stop? He’d certainly gone beyond the point of denying himself for the sake of her ideals. There was a path in front of him, the exit sign shining brightly and a new life within his reach. He just needed to have the courage to reach for it.
“A Saturday night to yourself?” Jack laughed, surprised that Ryan had actually followed up on his promises and made it out for a drink. “You must have been a very good boy!” he teased.
Ryan hugged his friend and stood back to admire him slightly. Jack had grown wider since he’d seen him last, his hips and love handles spreading. Teh guy’s face was bigger, cheeks blooming large. And underneath his t-shirt, Ryan could see that the man’s nipples had become pointed, pressing outwards from his puffy former pecs. “I can see that you’ve been having a very good time of things!” he joked, being in the know about how Jack’s kinky sex life worked with his girlfriend.
“I could say the same about you!” Jack smirked back, poking Ryan in his tight little paunch. “Have you and Lucy been having your own kinky fun?” he teased.
“We’re not really talking at the moment, dude,” Ryan explained straight away; keen that he didn’t have to spend the entire night talking about her. “I want out. I’ve reached the end.”
Jack winced sympathetically. “I can’t say that I’m all that surprised after the way you were talking last time. But that still doesn’t explain this,” he pointed back at Ryan’s middle, smirking.
Ryan laughed, having forgottem how quickly Jack could lift his spirits with his cheeky humour. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied coyly, smiling with just as much mischief.
“Yes you do!” Jack laughed back, patting Ryan’s paunch properly now. “Did you do it on purpose? Is this to piss Lucy off?”
Again, Ryan laughed. He shruged his shoulders. “Yeah,” he nodded in surprise at Jack’s bluntness. There wasn’t anyone else in the world he could imagine himself admitting this to. “I guess I did,” he smiled, resting his hand over his thicker middle like it was his new prized pet.
“Dude, that’s so awesome!” Jack blasted; his face lighting up with all the enthusiasm Ryan remembered when the pair of them used to get up to mischief in high school. “You love it, don’t you?”
Ryan felt like he was dealing with an excitable puppy, but the interest was infectious. “Well, I can’t say I’m against it,” he replied diplomatically.
“Michelle is going to love this when I tell her,” Jack pressed on, ordering them both a couple of beers. “She said at the pool party that you would make a good fatty.”
“She did?” Ryan asked, surprised that Michelle would talk about other guys in that way.
“Absolutely,” Jack nodded. “She said you’re like me; a similar build; perfect for fattening up, apparently.”
“She really is a kinky one, your Michelle, isn’t she?” Ryan chuckled, feeling strangely aroused by the idea of her talking about him like this.
“How far are you planning on taking it?” Jack pressed him.
“The weight gain? Um, well. I’m not really thinking about anything really. I’m just having some fun,” he answered honestly.
“Dude, if you’re ever going to grow a gut in your lifetime, getting a divorce is one of them.”
“Oh, yeah?” Ryan asked, only half listening now as he tried to work out why there was so much blood pumping into his groin.
“A divorce is like a free pass for so many things. No one will bat an eyelid if you start getting properly fat once you two separate.”
“Well, we’re not quite there yet,” Ryan backtracked, wincing slightly as the word ‘divorce’ came up so casually in their conversation. Lucy hadn’t mentioned it to him yet, and neither had he to her. 
“Just imagine it though,” Jack encouraged him. “You, sitting in your own apartment somewhere, drinking as much beer and eating as much pizza as you want after work. No Lucy complaining in the background and telling you off. No massive list of jobs to be completed at the weekend.”
“That does sound pretty sweet,” Ryan admitted; his dick now inexplicably full of blood.
“I just can’t wait to tell Michelle,” Jack said again, more delighted than ever as the pair of them settled in to watch the football game on the big screen.
The realities of splitting from his wife were somewhat different from the fantasies that Jack tried to portray, Ryan soon realised. Divorce was quickly turning into the most expensive thing he had ever done. Lucy’s parents, who had been too impoverished to hire a gardener, or a decorator, or a maintenance guy the entire time he had been married to Lucy, suddenly stumped up the cash to pay for the most cut-throat, killer lawyer for their daughter. With his head in his hands, Ryan soon realised that he was going to have to start from scratch: no home, no pensions, not even his truck for work. The only place that he could afford to live was a room in an apartment downtown, sharing with two students from the local college. Twenty nine years old and here he was, right back at the starting line.
Of the two guys he now lived with, Ryan didn’t see much of Paul, the computer science major. He was often out in the library, or hiding out in his bedroom. That worked fine. With his life turned so upside down, Ryan wasn’t exactly wanting to be dragged out to parties midweek when he had work the next morning. No, the only real pain in Ryan’s ass was Ash; the smart-mouthed literature student with a carefree attitude to life that frustrated Ryan to no end.
“You know, when you get a real job, you’re not going to be able to sit up until 3am watching a movie marathon with your waste of space boyfriend,” he complained at the guy one evening, tired from an exhausting day in work, having been constantly woken by the pair of young lovers laughing so hard at the screen.
“Fine. Whatever,” Ash huffed. “I’ve had a stressful day, okay. I don’t need this.”
“Stressful?” Ryan parroted, feeling the rage bubbling up inside him. “You want to know about stress?” he growled. “You’ve been sitting inside all day typing up an assignment on a computer screen. That’s not what real stress looks like. You’re in college - you have absolutely no idea about the real world; about trying to actually earn a living!”
Ash rolled his eyes. He’d heard it all before. 
Sure, Lucy knew how to press Ryan’s buttons, but this boy was on a whole other level. “You graduate with your masters in nine months!” he blasted. “What the hell do you expect to do then? You’ve got no idea, have you? How can you just wander so aimlessly through life?”
“What does it matter?” Ash sighed. “Things always work out in the end.”
“It matters because, trust me, your twenties will be over in a flash and you need to start getting somewhere in life. Not just watching movies until 3am! And certainly not with someone like Ben! You’re just setting yourself up for failure, and it pisses me off!”
“Like you, you mean?” Ash shot back, visibly annoyed. “You’ve done the whole marriage thing, the house, the cars. Yet, you're back here, sharing a shitty apartment with a couple of students. You did everything right, everything the grown-ups told you, and now look at you! Sometimes life is just like that. So stop taking out your frustrations on me and start focusing on yourself instead!”
Ryan didn’t respond. He stormed off to his room and threw himself onto the bed. Then he took a few breaths and considered what Ash had actually said to him. The guy had been right: he was taking his anger out on him. Ash was young, more academically bright than Ryan had ever been, good looking and full of personality. He had his whole life in front of him without any major mistakes under his belt yet. So why did Ryan feel the need to be such an asshole to him?
Despite not officially apologising, Ryan did make an effort to be nicer to Ash over the coming days. He still didn’t care for Ben, the guy's boyfriend, feeling that Ash could do much better. But he was polite and courteous, never failing to put in his earplugs when he knew they were going to be watching TV until late.
Ryan’s weight had not been a priority for him since he’d moved in. Any erotic fantasies he’d indulged himself in last year were thoroughly dampened by the divorce. Yet, his weight continued to climb, spurred on by the cheap, high carbohydrate diet he fell into whilst living in the apartment.
When he was with Lucy, Ryan had indulged himself in sugary treats and even high calorie supplements that he would now consider an eyewatering drain on his monthly budget. He was having to to work harder than ever to bring in the money and his paunch seemed to lose that fluffy softness of his early gains, solidifying into something firmer and more rounded as it continued to push itself out from under his chest.
New clothes were also a luxury that Ryan could ill-afford. His t-shirts fitted awkwardly around the swell of his stomach and there were many times in work when he felt a cool breeze on his butt crack. Beer was the only luxury he allowed himself in those early days, especially on the weekends, when Paul usually went back to visit his family and Ash was generally out partying with his boyfriend. In those few, blissful hours, he could guzzle down his beers whilst sitting in his underwear in front of the shared TV screen, appreciating exactly why he had given up his marriage. Life was hard, but it wasn’t always awful.
Through word of mouth, Ryan had started picking up more work on some of the other rental properties for students that littered this area of town. Desperate for the work, Ryan had been undercutting people quite dramatically in order to guarantee an income for himself. However, trying to get an early start on these types of properties was never as easy. Students were inherently lazy, he decided, whilst banging on the door of one apartment, trying to get someone to let him in. After a full five minutes, a groggy looking guy crawled to the door wearing only his underwear and a t-shirt that was back to front.
“Your landlord sent me to see your air con,” Ryan eventually explained.
Without a word, the exhausted guy simply opened the door further and let Ryan get by. “You’re not going to be noisy are you?” he eventually asked. “My boyfriend is still asleep.”
Ryan looked at his watch. It was almost 10.30 in the morning. Why would anyone still be asleep now?
“It’s okay. I’m getting up anyway,” yawned another guy, waddling sleepily from the bedroom and giving his boyfriend a quick peck on the cheek. It was only then that Ryan clocked him. It was Ben, Ash’s obviously cheating boyfriend; the guy’s face suddenly looking considerably more alert as he too recognised Ryan.
“You’re not going to tell Ash, are you?” Ben shouted, having followed Ryan out of the apartment the second he had finished up; safely out of earshot of his second boyfriend.
“Of course I am,” Ryan replied simply, continuing to walk away, without stopping.
“You’re just going to make him miserable,” the guy shot back. “Is that what you want?”
At this, Ryan laughed. Guilty people always seemed to have such a terrific way of turning things back around on the other person. “Trust me,” he sniggered. “He’ll be way better off without someone like you in his life.”
“Do you think it was easy for me with Ash?” Ben started next; his tone shifting to something nastier. “It’s not exactly easy trying to feel special when your boyfriend has a massive crush on the pot-bellied daddy bear he shares an apartment with. How do you think that made me feel?”
“What are you even talking about?” Ryan laughed, surprised at how far Ben was going with his bullshit. A daddy bear? He was only six years older than Ash.
“Oh, come on. You know exactly what you’re doing,” Ben snapped back, getting more viscious as he realised that Ryan wasn’t willing to compromise with him. “You’re always there, or strutting about in just your underwear, drinking your beers in the living area and being overly friendly. You’ve been trying to fuck things up for the two of us for ages.”
Now Ryan did stop, turning to face Ben properly. “What planet are you living on?” he asked, completely flabbergasted. “I just try to be pleasant. I’m not trying to do anything.”
“Prove it then,” Ben shot back, seizing upon an opportunity. “If you’re really not trying to fuck things up between us, you’ll let this one little indiscretion slide.”
If Ryan hadn’t just had the hardest year of his life, dealing with some of the most despicable, bullying lawyers out there, he may have fallen for Ben’s game. As it was, he wasn’t afraid of standing his ground. “Tell him by the time I get home later. Or I will.”
Ryan crept into the apartment later that evening, finding Paul in the kitchen. “You missed some drama today,” he sighed. “Ash and Ben broke up. I walked in on it all before. It was so awkward.”
“Is Ash okay?” Ryan asked, relieved that Ben had listened to his ultimatum and done the deed himself.
“He’s in his room,” Paul nodded over to the bedroom door. “We’d best leave him be.”
Ryan nodded in complete agreement, deciding to hide out in his room that evening so that Ash didn’t need to see anyone when he would inevitably have to come out for a glass of water, or to use the bathroom.
The evening was slipping away and Ryan had just finished a TV series that he had been charging through for the last two weeks. There was still an hour until he would need to get to sleep; enough time for one last beer, before the inevitable daily grind would start all over again. He strutted out of his bedroom and made for the refrigerator, pausing only briefly to crack the can open and chug a little of it. He burped quietly, finding that the first few mouthfuls of fresh beer always made him the most gassy. Then, suddenly, he heard the door to Ash’s room opening and he stood there, feeling completely caught out.
“Hi,” Ash whispered, not making any pretenses that he was here for any other reason than to see Ryan.
Feeling incredibly awkward, Ryan now regretted coming out of his room without a shirt on; his bloated pot belly on full display. Before today, he wouldn’t have thought twice about it, but Ben’s words had planted an unpleasant seed in his mind that made him question everything he did a little bit more. “I’m sorry to hear about Ben,” he stated straight away. “How are you doing?”
Ash sighed and began to pour his heart out. He knew all about Ryan’s discovery earlier that day and he thanked the guy for doing the right thing.
“I’m just looking out for you,” Ryan nodded, swigging the last of his beer and crushing the can for recycling. He shouldn’t have really had another one. His stomach felt quite painfully bloated and tight after it.
“Oh, and about those things that Ben said to you,” Ash quickly jumped in, seeing that Ryan was heading back to his room. “I hope it’s not going to make things awkward between us.”
Ryan had to think for a second about what Ash was getting at. The crush? Was Ben actually telling the truth about that? “Um, no. Not at all,” he mumbled back, rubbing his hair with a little embarrassment. “Don’t worry about it,” he smiled, finally making his escape.
An evening out with Jack was exactly what Ryan needed a couple of weekends later, as Ryan’s divorce was at last finalised. Unlike Ryan’s months of hell, Jack’s appearance was symbolic of a life of sheer indulgence and pleasure. Unlike Ryan, his body was pure softness, with blubber beginning to creep its way into the guy’s neck and upper arms. His stomach had swollen quite considerably and his butt had a surprising width to it that Ryan had not expected.
“Listen, I didn’t want to message you about this. I kind of feel pretty bad asking you in some ways, knowing what you’re going through,” Jack started after Ryan had finished explaining how the divorce had eventually played out. “I wanted you to be my best man.”
Ryan smiled brightly. “Of course I will,” he beamed, getting up to hug his old friend warmly as he stayed sitting in his chair.
“Thanks,” Jack smiled. “It’s not going to be a huge wedding. Not everyone approves,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes.
“How do you mean?” Ryan asked, sensing that Jack needed to offload.
“Well, Michelle’s parents aren’t coming,” he huffed. “They’d watched Michelle do this to her old boyfriend,” he explained, rubbing the quite substantial shelf of belly fat under his sagging nipples. “So when the same thing started happening to me, they told her they wanted no part in it.”
“Bonus!” Ryan joked, trying to remain upbeat. “My marriage certainly would have gone a lot smoother without the in-laws.”
Jack nodded, seeming to be somewhat in agreement. “Michelle’s not too cut up about it,” he whispered. “Then, well, you remember my dad. He still goes out running three times a week. So he’s not been all that in favour of Michelle and her wholesome home cooking..”
“You can’t live your life for your parents,” Ryan jumped in. It was a lesson he had learned somewhat bitterly when his own church-goin parents had taken Lucy’s side in the divorce. It made him think back to how much they had pushed him to get married in the first place, and he began to resent them, quite justifiably in his opinion.
“I know, I know…” Jack nodded. “And I wouldn’t change a thing. She’s it for me, y’know?”
Ryan raised his beer and they drank to that sentiment.
“What about you?” Jack asked next. “Is there someone new you’ve been holding back from me?”
Ryan shook his head. “No, not at all,” he stated. “Well… I mean…” he hesitated for a moment. “No. No one.”
But Jack’s interest had already been piqued. “Oh, come on. You can’t give me that and then say nothing!” he teased.
Ryan sighed, realising that he had dug himself into a bit of a hole. “It’s nothing,” he huffed at his own stupidity. “It’s just, one of the guys I live with has a bit of a crush on me.”
“Your first chubby chaser!” Jack laughed wickedly.
“Well…” Ryan conceded. “It looks that way, yes. His ex-boyfriend told me off for strutting around the place in just my underwear. He said I had a pot-belly and told me his boyfriend thinks of me as a hot daddy bear!”
Jack chuckled again. “Well, he’s not wrong. You do have quite the pot-belly!”
“Isn’t it a bit weird though?” Ryan asked his friend.
“Being referred to as a daddy bear when you’re only twenty nine?” Jack asked, simultaneously nodding in agreement. “But once you put on a bit of extra meat, that’s just the way people see you. It’s much more arousing to lean into it, rather than try to fight it.”
“Lean into it?” Ryan asked. “That’s your best advice?”
“Just enjoy the attention,” Jack smirked. “So what if he’s a twenty-four year old gay guy? You don’t have to be into someone to appreciate their admiration,” he nodded knowingly. “Trust me on this one. You’ll come to see that I’m right.”
With the divorce at last over with and all lawyers paid off, Ryan began to feel the financial strain starting to ease. Lucy hadn’t been quite as successful in getting all that she wanted from him. The worst case scenario was, thankfully, avoided. A few more months of living with the boys and Ryan would soon have saved enough money to rent his own place instead. With the ties that bound him to his ex-wife now finally disappearing, Ryan began to remember why he had fought so long for this freedom.
“I’ll have the Monster Meat bucket,” he declared, walking into a fast food place and not feeling guilty about the cost for the first time in months. He sucked in the smell of all the greasy goodness and knew that this was a freedom he would never again take for granted. Now he could gorge on as much as he desired and never have to explain himself to anyone. He could literally get as fat as he wanted now he was divorced and single, with no one to please but himself.
As he settled down into a seat, Ryan felt the bliss of devoting all his attention just to his epic meal for a full 20 minutes. It was all the stress relief he had ever needed. No one in here was particularly slim and it seemed, in those moments, that he had taken himself out of a world that so frustrated him, and into one that he felt comfortable in. Sure, he could probably join a gym and drop this weight in a relatively short amount of time. He could train his body hard and attract some beautiful girl to make his ex jealous. But Ryan knew that he had moved beyond that now. He didn’t care what his ex thought of him, or anyone else for that matter.
Or was Ryan just kidding himself? Was this really a moment of clarity? Or would he soon go crawling back to a diet plan the second things started getting rough? He was desperate to believe that wouldn’t be the case, but no one could ever be totally certain when it came to the future. It was only the present he could master. And so, armed with that knowledge, he went back to the counter, even though he felt almost too stuffed to even think about food.
“I’ll have the triple burger, please,” he stated, adding another milkshake to go with it. “He felt his hardess start to tingle, like the old days when he used to do this. Back then, he’d assumed it to be some twisted excitement about pissing Lucy off. Now he realised that this was so much more. This was about taking himself to somewhere he had never allowed himself to imagine going..
“Is this for you?” Ash asked, handing Ryan two boxes of pizza. “The delivery guy was coming up the stairs as I got home.”
“About time!” Ryan sighed, taking the boxes from him and settling back into the chair in front of the sofa. Two pizzas were a necessity for the Friday night baseball game and he was already four beers down. It would have been a perfect night but for the sticky humidity that had loomed over the city for the last few days; making him strip to his boxers as soon as he got home. “Do you follow baseball?” he asked Ash politely, nodding to the couch to see if he wanted to join him; knowing that, with Paul gone for the weekend, Ash would be on his own otherwise.
“No. Watching sports is not really my thing,” Ash replied unenthusiastically, despite continuing to linger around.
“Do you mind getting me another beer then?” Ryan asked,deciding to put the guy to work if he was so free to just stand about like this. 
Ash hopped to his task with remarkable speed. “Here you go,” he smiled delightedly, heading straight over and handing it over to him, not seeming to realise that he was blcoking part of the TV screen. “I’ve got some chips and dip if you want some?” he asked next.
“Sure,” Ryan nodded, hoping that the guy would at least sit down then and stop getting in the way.
Once again, Ash went to his task, presenting the chips and dip much better than Ryan ever would have. He placed them on the coffee table and then finally sat himself down on the couch. 
“You not having any?” Ryan asked five minutes later, noticing that it was only him actually eating.
“No, thanks,” Ash simply replied, pretending to be interested in the game. “They’re for you. Do you want another beer?”
Ryan felt the remaining liquid in his beer can and nodded, surprised by how diligently he was being looked after. Even when he asked Ash to fetch him the ice cream from the freezer later on, he was surprised that the young guy hopped to it, bouncing off the couch with an enthusiasm he had never seen before.
At the end of the game, Ryan took himself to the bathroom to relieve himself after the seven cans of beer he had ended up consuming. He looked in the mirror and marveled at the reflection he saw within it. Bloated and stuffed, Ryan had never seen his stomach looking so round and tight. Although he had upgraded his underwear a little while back, already these were looking worn and stretched, pulling the waistband down so that a good couple of inches of butt crack were on show. His muscular chest had started to build up with fleshiness in recent weeks and he placed his hand there to feel just how soft it was starting to get under his arms. He pulled the scales out with his foot and wondered just how much he weighed in this overfed state. He stepped on, waiting for the numbers to settle: 256lbs; the biggest number he had ever seen by quite some margin. It was, quite frankly, the cause of an almost instantaneous erection.
“I was wondering, if you’re still hungry, I could make you some pancakes?” Ash asked next as Ryan finally made it out of the bathroom. “I’ve got all the ingredients in.”
Ryan sat himself back down with a grunt and rubbed the shelf of his tight stomach, surprised that Ash was still hanging about the living area. Couldn’t he see how full Ryan was? Was he completely obvious to the heavy breathing and occasional grunt when he had to move, even slightly. He knew that the guy had a little crush, but what on earth was he possibly getting out of all this?
“Go on,” Ash pressed, actually trying to persuade him now. “Just a couple of them; nothing too big.”
Ryan looked up at the guy, already making his way to the kitchen and just waiting for that final nod of approval from him. Out of little more than curiosity, he agreed; watching with interest as he spied Ash settling to his task. Was he really using that much oil to fry the batter mix up? Was he actually rubbing butter into them? Did he really need to pour on that much syrup?
Despite tasting amazing, Ryan knew that every mouthful he was taking was completely and utterly packed full of calories and fat. As if desperate for his approval, Ash had watched him consume every bite of them. A sweat had begun to pour off Ryan’s forehead, but he wasn’t entirely sure that this one was caused by the humidity. “I am absolutely stuffed!” Ryan declared, grunting and rubbing the stretched out ball of stomach fat. “I haven’t eaten this much in ages,” he chuckled. “Not since I was trying to piss off my ex-wife after she told me she liked me being skinny.” “You were putting on weight on purpose?” Ash asked, quite startled by the comment.
“I was going for it, like you wouldn’t believe!” Ryan nodded. “Unless you’ve been through it, it’s hard to comprehend how petty you can be towards the end of a bad marriage,” he grinned, suddenly noticing that his hands were all over his own rounded stomach. “I was even taking this special calorie supplement shake you can buy, just to speed things up,” he laughed, thinking back.
“Oh!” Ash exclaimed knowledgeably, suddenly naming the exact brand .
They both went quiet. What a strange piece of trivia for Ash to just know, thought Ryan. The guy seemed to sense that too, suddenly looking a little sheepish. 
“Do you still take them?” Ash asked next, trying to look a little less interested than his excitable voice made him sound.
“I don’t need to,” Ryan grinned, tapping his fully grown pot belly. I just weighed myself twenty minutes ago. I’ve put on another 40lbs since I moved in here. It seems that I just can’t stop these days!” He yawned, standing up and stretching. “Anyway, buddy. I need to head to sleep,” he declared, seizing upon the fact that his erection from the overeating had at last subsided.
“Do you think there is a way to tell if someone is like your Michelle?” Ryan asked the next time he caught up with Jack at the very hastily organised stag party.
“How do you mean?” Jack asked, only a little worse for wear as he and Ryan gradually fell to the back of the crowd of friends taking them to the next bar.
“You know… Someone who is into the idea of helping someone else gain weight,” Ryan explained, trying to keep his voice fairly low.
Jack chuckled. “Oh, trust me, you’ll spot them!” he nodded. They’re not exactly subtle. “They’ll find ways to ensure you’re eating and they’ll probably want to watch too. If they’re anything like Michelle, they’ll probably try to keep your activity levels low and complement you at the weirdest times; like when you’re bloated from overeating.”
Ryan nodded, taking it all in and finding a striking resemblences to Ash’s more recent behaviours. “Anything else?” he asked.
Jack considered for a moment. “The compliments,” he added next. “They’re totally bizarre. If they’re praising you for overeating, that’s a pretty sure sign. But sometimes they may try to convince you that you look better, or more masculine, or whatever it is they think you want to hear. When the reality is, you just look fat.”
Again, Ryan nodded, keen to match Jack’s thoughts to his own observations of Ash. “You see, I think I might have…”
“Come on!” shouted their drunk friends up ahead. “The night is still young. Stop waddling behind and get your big butts up here!”
Jack and Ryan smirked at each other. Despite Jack’s rather considerable extra weight, Ryan had been lumbered in exactly the same category. The pair of them were, for better or worse, the fat guys on this trip.
“You’re back!” Ash smiled late the next day as an exhausted Ryan made it home. “Did you have a nice time? Are you hungry? I could make you something to eat?”
Ryan looked again at the time. “You’re still up!” he asked with surprise, knowing that Ash always had an early class on Monday mornings.
“Well, I wanted to check that you got home okay,”Ash replied, heading to the kitchen and renewing his offer to make something for his roommate.
Smirking at the fact that he was being fussed over and mothered by a good-looking twenty-four year old, Ryan had been disappointed that he hadn’t had more alone time to discuss this situation he was in, with his buddy, Jack. “Okay,” he nodded, deciding to just let Ash do his thing. “Sure, that would be nice.” He headed for a shower, returning to find an enormous, steaming hot lasagne, glistening with grease and cheese, sitting there on a plate, ready to be eaten. “Did you make this from scratch?” he asked Ash.
Ash nodded. “I remembered you saying that lasagne used to be your favourite dish growing up. I’ve never made it before, but I made a whole bunch of them and portioned them up in the refrigerator for when you get hungry.
Ryan smiled at the effort Ash had clearly gone to for him; a whole new level of care and attention. He opened his mouth to try some and nodded in approval. The lasagne really was delicious, although it was more than obvious just how much oil, cream and several different types of cheeses had gone into it to make it really quite extremely high in calories. If all the beer and fast food hadn’t ensured his pants would be tighter tomorrow, this little calorie bomb sure would.
“How was the weekend, anyway?” Ash asked, sticking around for the show and watching Ryan devour every bite.
“Pretty good,” Ryan nodded. “I had a couple of jibes from some of my old school friends about my weight. But we all turn thirty this year, so the dad-bod is definitely where most of them are at now anyway. I’m just the one who has already graduated from that stage,” he winked at Ash, tapping his gut.
“What did they say?” Ash asked with surprising interest, placing a cushion over his crotch.
“Oh, you know,” Ryan went on, deciding to play up to whatever kinky fantasies he thought his roomate may be having. “Just pointing stuff out to me: telling me how tight my clothes are, how slow I was when we were walking to different places and calling me out on how much I was eating when we went for food.”
“They’re probably just jealous,” Ash shot back straight away.
Ryan smirked. There was no way any of the guys were in the least bit jealous of his sprouting pot belly, making him all but invisible to the many hot girls they bumped into that weekend. This was clearly just another one of those bizarre compliments that Jack had told him to look out for. “Yeah, you’re right,” he lied to Ash, rubbing his bloating gut as he chugged down a few of the sodas Ash had supplied with his late night meal. “I’m sure they are jealous, deep down.”
Stepping on the scale was not something that Ryan did all that often. He could feel his stomach’s rounded shape starting to swell even larger, and he knew, from the fit of his underwear and pants, that his thighs and butt were also bearing the brunt of all that he was consuming each day. Still, as he stepped up, early one Sunday morning, after a particularly gluttonous take-out weekend of having the apartment to himself, Ryan’s eyes widened in shock: 278lbs! “Fuck!” he blasted in shock, before laughing to himself at how fast the latest few pounds had slipped on. He really weighed that much? He didn’t feel that heavy! He strolled over to the mirror inspecting his shape. Sure, his gut was pretty well developed by now and all the extra eating had sure softened his chest up rather a lot. He spun, noting that his butt’s width was quite considerable now, with back fat bulding at his sides and folding under his shoulder blades. Yet, he still didn’t feel like he should weigh 278lbs! Somehow, he had always imagined a guy that size being much bigger than this. What Ryan actually felt as he saw himself there, was very small still; acting as a licence for him to continue to indulge.
Jack’s wedding was fast approaching as the weeks rolled by. After being fitted for their suits, Ryan and Jack headed out for something to eat.
“That tailor seemed pretty pissed off that we left it this late to get ourselves measured for the wedding outfits,” Ryan noted as they sat down and grabbed the menus. “I guess we’ll have to cross our fingers that they can get those pants in for you in time.”
“It’ll be fine,” Jack shrugged. “I put on weight every week, so there would have been no point in going any earlier. I would just have outgrown them. “I’m almost 350lbs these days.”
Ryan nodded. Jack did indeed look impressively large, yet he was only 60lbs or so bigger than he was. And Ryan still felt tiny in comparison. “I know what you mean,” Ryan agreed. “I split some pants the other day. I’d only bought them four weeks before.”
“It’s weird, isnt it. When you’re gaining weight, you’re so tuned into how your body feels and looks. Yet, at the same time, you’re completely oblivious to it as well; how tight your clothes are getting, or how large you seem to other people.”
Ryan nodded enthusiastically. He felt so glad that Jack noticed this as well, sparking a lively conversation between the pair.
“You’ll be getting your own place soon, I take it?” Jack asked. “The two students you're sharing with must be graduating soon?”
“A couple of months,” Ryan nodded, suddenly realising that he had been a little lazy in his hunt for a new apartment. 
“That’ll be nice!” Jack smiled. “Your own space at last!”
“Well, it’s not too bad as it is,” Ryan explained. “Paul is never there at weekends. And now he’s got himself a girlfriend, he’s not there much in the week either.”
“And what about the other one? The one you used to fight with loads?”
“Yeah, he’s there a lot, but… we don’t argue so much these days,” he admitted; suddenly feeling the desire to say so much more about kinky little Ash.
“Before I foget,” Jack jumped in. “Michelle wants to know who you’re bringing as your ‘plus one’ to the wedding next week.
“I’ve got a ‘plus one’?” Ryan asked, genuinely surprised.
“Dude!” Jack grumbled. “Seriously?”
“I’ll find someone,” Ryan replied hastily, seeing how stressed Jack was getting.
“What about that girl you were hinting at when we briefly chatted during my stag party?” Jack asked, clearly keen to get a name locked in.
Ryan thought for a moment. Had Jack assumed he had some potential hot chubby chaser girl on the go? He pondered the idea, realising, quite suddenly, that he didn’t really need one. In the most unexpected way, everything that he had yearned for in life had already arrived. “Hey, Jack,” he asked thoughtfully. “How did you know that Michelle was the one for you?”
“She’s gorgeous,” Jack shot back with a sly grin.
“Besides that,” Ryan insisted. “How did you know that you guys were meant to be together?”
Jack sighed. “I guess…” he began softly, “...it was the way she made me feel: so loved and cared for; admired and adored. I’ve never felt that from anyone before.” He seemed moved, just by talking about her. “Plus she dominated me and forced me to pack on over 150lbs of pure fat; which is one of the kinkiest fucking things I could ever have imagined!” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.
Ryan laughed and nodded. He made a crack about how much fatter Jack might be after he got home from his honeymoon, but, really, his mind was elsewhere; with someone else entirely.
Ryan arrived home to see a large crate of beers resting on the kitchen counter tied up with a ginormous red bow. He laughed, seeing that it was his favourite brand and noticing that a large tray of assorted doughnuts lay beside it.
“Do you like your present?” Ash asked, coming out of his bedroom with a huge smile on his face.
“You bought these for me?” Ryan asked, feeling his mouth watering at the sight of the doughnuts, even after how much he had eaten with Jack that afternoon.
As if psychically linked, Ash began unpackaging the doughnuts for him, leaving them open for him to stuff one into his mouth. “They’re to say thank you. I just had my novel manuscript accepted for publishing.”
Ryan nearly spat out his doughnut. “You’ve been writing a novel?” he blasted in shock. “Since when?”
“Since you kept reminding me that I need to do something with my life; back when you first moved in.”
“I was being an asshole,” Ryan confessed. “I didn’t mean to make you feel…”
“You gave me the kick up the ass that I needed,” Ash threw back with a smile. “You always told me how clever I was and that I could do anything.”
“You’re an amazing person,” Ryan marvelled. “In fact, you’re the best person I’ve ever met in my life!” For weeks now, he had worried that his behavious around Ash, indulging his little feeder tendencies in subtle ways, had only brought the guy to fetishize him. Their relationship was merely one of a simple exchange: Ryan would enjoy being overfed and catered for by his roommate, and Ash would get to enjoy the subtle art of ensuring a guy that he found attractive, continued to pile on a few pounds. Now, however, every sense felt strangetly heightened in this moment of celebration. He couldn’t believe that Ash had been secretly writing away for months when Ryan had assumed the guy to be inside his bedroom, playing games. Just how blind had he been this entire time?
Ryan took a step forward and Ash did not retreat. He grabbed the much smaller guy’s shoulders and held them firmly. Again, Ash did not stop him. Then, seeing the inviting, warm look on Ash’s face, Ryan took the biggest risk of his life, going in for a kiss and desperately hoping that Ash’s lips would move to meet his.
Unbelievably, Ash was kissing him back, moaning gently, as if luxuriating in something he had never wanted more in his life. The kiss became intense, very quickly. With his shirt lifted off him, Ryan felt the handsome guy’s hands rubbing all over his stomach. Before he knew it, Ryan was being guided into the living space, his sweatpants ripped down and then his body pushed with surprisingly kinky force, back into his usual chair in front of the TV. 
Ryan looked up at Ash with startled arousal. The guy seemed so naturally suited to taking charge. He would have known that this was Ryan’s first gay experience and he led the way with ease, erasing any opportunity for awkward fumblings to slip in. He cracked open one of the chilled beers and fetched the tray of doughnuts from the kitchen counter. Then, when he was sure that Ryan was settled, he plunged his whole mouth down onto the fat guy’s crotch.
Ryan’s whole body twitched.This wasn’t a blow job, he thought to himself, feeling the intense stimulation straight away. He found himself moaning, even when he was trying not to. Was this intense pleasure what it was supposed to have been like all along? Lucy had never made much of an effort with anything in the bedroom, but Ash’s mouth was doing things to him that Ryan could never have dreamed of. He supped on his beer and ate a doughnut, feeling Ash’s hands rubbing the spherical shape of his stomach, clearly getting off on making this moment all about him.
Barely two doughnuts in and Ryan felt his body lurching as it wanted to climax. Ash worked his pace even more, feeling the throbbing in his mouth. Then, when the moment came, he pushed his mouth even deeper, sending Ryan’s hardness all the way down his throat. The pleasure; the orgasm; that intensity. It was unlike anything Ryan had ever experienced in his life. 
There was no going back.
Over the following week, Ryan discovered that Ash had a whole arsenal of tactics to please him. Not only did the guy continue to fuss over him with his cooking and snack deliveries, but his tight, energetic little butt seemed determined to outdo every single previous sexual experience that Ryan had ever had. They spoke at length about their attraction to each other and how smitten they both had become. Ryan had no hesitation in inviting Ash to be his date for Jack’s wedding. And, in fact, spending so much time with a now professional writer, really helped Ryan to produce the best speech he could have wished for. Rather than feeling sick with nerves as the big day arrived, he felt excited and pumped, heartily stuffing himself on the big breakfast Ash had so lovingly prepared for him.
“Your friends really aren’t keen on Michelle, are they?” Ash commented later that evening, as the pair of them were reunited after Ryan’s time sitting at the top table and the endless photographs that needed taking.
“Um, no,” Ryan nodded. “Not so much.”
“I had no idea that your friend, Jack, used to be so slim before he met her,” he whispered, fearing that one of their families might overhear. “Your buddies seem to think she’s the devil incarnate!”
Ryan chuckled. He’d heard it all before. “She’s lovely really,” he tried, looking over at the pair of them as Michelle spoonfed her 350lb husband a large piece of their wedding cake. “She just… knows what she wants.”
“I think everyone here can see exactly what it is she wants,” Ash joked back as Jack’s full, swollen belly was patted with approval by his new wife. “It makes me wonder what your friends are going to say about me eventually.”
Ryan pulled Ash into him by holding his slim hips in his chubby hands. They had decided that it was best to go easy on the public displays of affection, considering that this was their first time out together as a couple. However, Ryan simply could not help himself.  “Oh, yes?” he asked keenly.
“I certainly don’t have any plans to put you on a diet,” Ash grinned, fingering the skin between the stretched buttons of Ryan’s beer swollen gut.
Ryan growled in lustful approval. His hands slipped onto Ash’stight, toned butt and pulled the guy in even closer.
“In fact, how come you’re not eating a big slice of wedding cake for me right now?” Ash teased.
Ryan moaned lightly. This was exactly what he wanted. He knew how much scrutiny he was under today. He could feel the judgemental eyes upon him, for his shocking weight gain, the fit of his tight shirt, and the fact that he was dating someone none of them had ever expected. He should have been nervous or self conscious. However, with Ash in his arms, Ryan had never felt more free to be himself. “But won’t that make me even fatter?” he teased back.
Ash smiled. “Oh… I hadn’t thought of that,” he joked, accepting the kiss that Ryan soon bestowed upon him.
Ryan felt Ash’s hands feeling his big, broad butt as they kissed; the pants he had been measured for only a week ago, starting to feel rather uncomfortable after only a week of dating the handsome twenty-four year old. The kiss ended and both of them laughed, realising how ridiculously long it had taken to get to this point. 
“Is this along the lines of what you had in mind for me?” Ryan asked moments later, pushing out his stomach as far as it would go and stretching those buttons even more.
Ash seemed thrilled, looking around the room in surprise that Ryan was making himself look so large in front of everyone that he knew at the wedding. He smiled, rubbing the underside of Ryan’s ball-like gut and then leaned in to whisper. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see,” he teased.
Ryan growled in lustful appreciation, then took his boyfriend’s hand and led the way to the wedding cake.
Exactly one year to the day, Ryan and Ash were sitting in that same room, together with Jack and Michelle, celebrating a year since the wedding. They reminisced fondly, thinking about the perfect day it had been and laughing about how shocked everyone had been after Jack came back 30lbs heavier from his two week honeymoon. 
“You can’t be far off the weight I was this time last year,” Jack noted, surveying his buddy’s hefty appearance.
“Possibly,” Ryan nodded, rubbing his large stomach. “I still  don’t feel big yet though,” he replied, as if he was oblivious to the enormous ball-shaped gut and the groaning of the chair, supporting his wide butt and mostrous 347lb body.
“Unless I ask him to do something,” Ash jumped in comically. “Then he always says he’s too fat to do anything!” he joked, making everyone chuckle.
“I’m actually going to be pushing Jack to five hundred pounds this year,” Michelle explained, taking her morbidly obese husband’s hand as if this was an announcement that thay had been planning for some time.
Ryan noticed Jack staring at his face for a reaction; perhaps some surprise that his old school buddy was so ensnared by his beautiful wife that he was willing to take his weight gain to such extremes for her.
“He’s going to be a lot of work for you at that size!” Ash grinned conspiratorily at Michelle. “I hope you’re ready for that?” he laughed.
“Oh, I’m counting on it!” Michelle smirked, rubbing the 430lb man’s knee under the table.
“You’re a very lucky guy,” Ryan nodded at his friend in approval.
“There you go, Ash,” Michelle smirked. “It sounds like we may have another willing volunteer to join the five hundred pound club,” she nodded towards a jealous looking Ryan.
“You’re joking aren’t you?” Ryan laughed. “Ash is heading off on his second book tour in March. “I won’t be gaining anything for almost two months whilst he’s gone. I’ll probably just wate away!”
“You liar!” Ash teased him back. “Last time I was away, you pretty much lived on takeout and put on almost twenty pounds in a month,” he chuckled.
“I don’t remember you complaining,” Ryan smiled back; his voice dripping with affection and lust.
Michelle looked at them both, clearly wanting to cut through their mushy meanderings. “So, five hundred pounds?” she asked again, trying to circle the conversation back. “I’m getting the impression that you boys are kinky enough to enjoy seeing that on Ryan,” she pressed; ever the bad influence.
Ryan and Ash looked at each other with a wicked excitement in their eyes.
“We’ll talk about it when we get home,” Ash stated diplomatically. Unlike Michelle, he liked to be a little more discreet about his kinks and fantasies when it came to enjoying Ryan’s large body.
Ryan smirked and winked at his old buddy Jack. He knew exactly how to read between the lines of whatever Ash said. There was no way he was going to pass up the opportunity to get Ryan to that size. And so, just like his high school best pal, Ryan was as good as setting sail for five hundred pounds. How insanely arousing was that?
“Eat up, my friend,” Ryan smiled competitively at Jack. “I’m coming for you, Fat Boy!” 
806 notes · View notes
saerins · 1 year
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─── 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄
+ gojo x f!reader | wc 2.3k | content: modern au, fluff, slight angst, rich!gojo, rich!reader, arranged marriage but reversed(?), slightly suggestive
notes: haha i was exploring tropes and this just came to me :’) fairly nervous so feedbacks and reblogs appreciated muwah <3
summary: sometimes you think that you and gojo are not meant to be. and sometimes, he itches to prove you wrong.
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there are many things you would call gojo satoru. partner in crime, friendship on fire, a twisted manifestation of the kind of romance that would consume you whole if you didn’t take precaution.
“ready to do this, baby?”
he’s as sweet-lipped as ever, the honeyed words overflowing from his tongue. how you’d miss it, those words you hear at night, the saccharine praises that send you into overdrive.
“only if you are, sweetie.”
you’re equally good at it, having learned from one of the best—gojo satoru himself. you smirk at him, straightening his suit and tie. he looks devilishly handsome in that tailored suit, the one you had made for him. if you recall correctly, he only saves it for a special occasion.
and it qualifies—today is definitely a special occasion.
“so happy to be getting rid of me?” satoru asks you, pouting and putting on his best puppy eyes. his white lashes house a sea of crystalline blue, the kind you’ve gotten addicted to, the same pair you’d gotten lost in many times over.
you’ll never forget it.
the way satoru’s lips ghost over your own. the way his index finger trails up the side of your arm. he likes the goosebumps that sear across your skin. satoru loves knowing the effect he has on you.
this marriage of convenience has taken its toll on both your families. in hindsight, they should’ve known that they can’t control either of you. the gojo family, for all they’re worth, thought that gojo satoru would never betray their money, their status. and your family—they’d always known you’d objected to these notions; convenience, business, romance—the way these three intertwine intentionally, a manufactured relationship borne out of familial ties.
it’s bullshit.
how lucky for you, that gojo satoru felt the same. he still feels the same, which is why he’s in front of you right now, getting ready to drop the bomb in the investors’ meeting.
his father is sure to kill him, but that’s provided he can get through you first.
sure, getting married to gojo satoru was not in your life plans. your mother had chosen a very apt timing to tempt you, quoting half a million dollars as the condition for getting and staying married to that gojo boy. and sure, she can do her best to try and haggle that money back from you once the both of you are done with today, but you’re guessing she’ll be facing much more important and pressing matters than simply getting money back from her defiant daughter.
“this is what we discussed, satoru,” you sigh, avoiding his question like he knew you would. “one year, that’s all we needed. and look where we are now.”
satoru smiles, pearly whites and bad boy charm. “i’d miss you in my bed at night though.”
you smack him playfully across his chest. he only chuckles lowly, fondly, his right hand on your head, brushing your hair. it almost makes you want to stay. but that wasn’t part of the deal, and you’re not sure that either you or satoru are ready for commitments.
“must’ve been some pretty good sex to make the gojo satoru miss me, huh?” you play along, pushing yourself away gently, your hand on his chest.
satoru tips your chin up with his finger, looking you in the eyes as he tells you, “babe, you’re the best pussy i’ve ever had.”
complete romantic, as you can tell. (you can’t stop his vulgar tongue even if you tried.)
“okay okay, stop stalling, satoru,” you chide him, holding your palm out, smiling as he takes it. “got the evidence?”
satoru holds a thick envelope out, grinning. “all here.”
the two of you stand outside the conference room for a minute, staring at each other. in another world, maybe you’d be in this hotel with gojo satoru where you’re actually married—for feelings rather than a transaction. in that other world, maybe you and gojo satoru were childhood sweethearts, the kind where you grew old without all the fucked up relationships that branded both of you too overwhelmed to be in a real one right now. hey, maybe in that world, maybe just maybe, that vow that gojo satoru had uttered on your wedding day (the same that you had uttered as well)—maybe he would’ve meant it.
you didn’t think you would come to like gojo satoru. it’s been a long time since you’d first met him. when you’d seen him stomping into the meeting room of your company’s office like he owned the place, like everyone there was beneath him. he’d gotten right under your skin then and there.
getting along was no easy feat. it took three months for the both of you to agree to live together. strangely it took just one night for you both to give in to temptation once you did start living together.
both of you are menaces—that’s what your mother would say.
somehow, somewhere, those feelings you thought you’d never feel before blossomed again. the kind of trust you didn’t think you’d ever give was given to satoru and you wonder if he even knows it. but satoru has never changed his stance on relationships since the first time you met him; they’re a waste of time.
“you know, if you wanna keep me, all you gotta do is say so.” satoru’s looking at you, that jester smile plastered on his face. you can’t see his beautiful eyes when it’s all crinkled up like that, but you thank god for that. you don’t know how you’d resist him if you could see them.
“dream on, satoru,” you deflect, and expertly. you’re great at hiding your real feelings like that. “our deal ends today.”
yeah, the deal the two of you made with each other, right when both families thought their children had made peace with their decision, or their fate, as they liked to call it. neither you nor gojo felt any affection for the family you grew up in, not when they’d never took interest in either of you as anything other than an heir. when both your childhoods were filled with extra readings and learning proper manners. when satoru grew up learning from his father that women were just a means to a child and you’d grown up learning from your mother that if a girl is not beautiful then she is not desirable. you remember how she almost disowned you for getting a scar on your face, even though it was only temporary.
she has a penchant for the overdramatics. you think today might be no different. you hope not. the entire aim of today is to bring about the crumble of two empires—gojo’s and your family’s.
to hell with their money and their dirty syndicates. it’s filthy money they have their hands full with, and frankly, you and satoru are done playing their pawns.
as satoru leads the way, you loop your arm around his elbow, watching as his father is taken completely off-guard when he watches his own son expose his schemes, watching as your own parents try to salvage the situation by saying how children these days would do anything to get out of their responsibilities.
they’re all walking ironies.
you both watch as the investors walk out one by one, outraged and disappointed. you watch as satoru’s own father vows to kill him, and you scoff as your own mother seconds his notion.
“not if the law gets you first,” you tell them, effectively shutting them up as they hear the police sirens in the air.
they spew about how the both of you are pieces of shit as they’re taken away, and you find you couldn’t care less. maybe it’s a little inhuman of you not to feel a thing when you watch your parents getting taken away in handcuffs. but then again, they’d never really treated you like a human either.
“here you go,” satoru chirps as the sirens drown into the background. he holds out another envelope, this one solely for you.
you smile, a melancholy washing over you as you take it from his hands and take the documents out, flipping to the last page where satoru has already signed.
“our divorce papers,” you coo, “how romantic.”
because gojo satoru is always a romantic.
he remembers your birthday and remembers your favourite cake. he remembers what you need when you’re upset, never makes you feel alone. he remembers how you like your eggs and purposely cooks them wrong all the time. he remembers how you take your coffee and always gives you tea. he remembers how you always nag at him for annoying you and then annoy you some more because for some reason you look very attractive when you’re angry.
it takes you a minute to sign your own name. it kind of feels lonely now, thinking how you’ll never go back to the same apartment as satoru. how you won’t see him sprawled out on the couch, pouting because you’re a little late for movie night. how you won’t catch him staring at your body as you get changed. how you won’t get to throw your pillows at him in the morning for tickling you in bed just to get you to wake up.
after all—you’d agreed; these affections were temporary like they were always meant to be.
you can’t help but find yourself wishing for more. but you were raised to be ruthless, not stupid. you won’t let satoru know of your feelings, because all your deductions say that nothing good will come of it.
“hmm,” satoru hums as he eyes your signature. “wouldn’t be opposed to a special arrange—”
“not gonna be your fuckbuddy, satoru,” you deadpan at him, flicking his forehead.
“why not?” he whines, and you nearly cave.
because you can’t risk falling further than you already have when there’s absolutely zero chance of satoru catching you.
“because there’s a long line of guys i wanna date and you should get in line first,” you lie, and satoru smirks like he’s caught on to something.
but if he has, he doesn’t say a thing, and that tells you everything you need to know.
“guess this is it then, l/n y/n?”
you don’t want it to be, but it has to.
“you made a great fake real husband, gojo satoru,” you tell him, shaking his hand.
kind of a lame goodbye for two people who had shared everyday together for the past year. but you think maybe this brief goodbye should suffice. you don’t want the flames to burn either of you blue.
gojo satoru doesn’t say another word when you turn to leave.
and you don’t turn to look back at him as you walk away.
some chapters of your life should come to a close. your chapter with gojo satoru should remain here, kept close in your heart, kept warm as memories should.
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six months later.
“i just think you and i would be suited for other people.”
it’s funny, how everything never works out between you and other guys. you don’t recall it being so hard with satoru. perhaps he was truly made for you, like the heavens designed. but both of you were too similar, too afraid of commitment. nothing was going to come out of it anyway.
and maybe that’s why you miss it.
his fleeting glances, soft lips on tender skin and a pair of calm blue that never fails to mesmerise you.
satoru is the fleeting kind of romance that burns so bright in its prime and the kind you can never keep close. not when he isn’t willing to tone it down and when you don’t have the tolerance to match.
strangely, maybe that’s also why you’re still drawn to him. you’re still hoping that there will be a flaw in the design, that your seemingly parallel lines will intersect somehow. that maybe you won’t have to try and replace him with someone else.
“yeah, kento, i get it,” you tell nanami, sipping on your tea as you watch him get up and go.
you and nanami would not have worked out anyway. not when you’re way too fucked up and he’s comparibly normal. it would be too much for him. you would be too much for him. you stare at the tea in front of you. you kind of miss those dates satoru took you on; trespassing on private property and reliving youth in arcades.
satoru is everything—love, heartache, gambles, sins. both of you are spun from the same thread, and maybe you believe that if soulmates exist, you and him have the same red thread twirled around your pinkies.
though, the fact that he isn’t here simply proves you to be wrong.
last you’d heard, satoru was travelling the world, carefree and spreading his wings like you always knew he would.
you find yourself wishing that perhaps, somehow, you’d meet him again. but you sigh and get up, knowing you are far too old for this wishful thinking.
but where you’d thought that satoru was roaming, you forget that he’s much like a swallow. because now, when you turn around, you catch that same shade of ocean blue staring straight at you, the same white locks that obstructed your vision in the mornings.
the same satoru who’d learned of love through you and you alone. the same satoru who, even if he leaves, will always find his way back to you, no matter how much you try to deny and push him away.
satoru takes two steps forward before he pulls you towards him, his long arms coming around you and holding you tight.
this time, he’s not going to let you go.
“y/n,” he calls your name softly, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “wanna give this another shot?”
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stem-sister-scuffle · 3 months
Text
STEM SISTER SCUFFLE: ROUND 2 MASHUP 7
Alphys (Undertale) vs Jade Harley (Homestuck)
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Alphys is a Roboticist, Biologist and Souls/Determination Researcher!
Jade Harley is a Nuclear Physicist!
Why you should vote for each contestant:
Alphys:
"Because she messed with DETERMINATION and made Amalgamates, blending monsters into each other to form horrible combinations of undead beings. She’s a lesbian"
"Man made horrors, overwhelming guilt, cute lizard girl, bisexual"
"SHE'S SO CUTE. She's awkward and shy but you can tell she knows a lot about what she does!! She's also a bit of a tragic character considering her biological endeavors have gone kinda. wrong. SHE'S BI AND LIKE ANIME 🫶"
"Ultra qualified women with deep scientific knowledge who are also massive anime nerds and can't hold a simple conversation represent!"
"idk she's kind of just. The Royal Scientist . built a robot and put a soul in it. tried to bring monsters back to life, this failed miserably. did research on souls and determination. has a kickass lab. also nerdy as hell and can't just. tell the truth to save her life. love her"
"I don't think we have a word for "works with SOULs and DETERMINATION, including fusing ghosts with robot bodies and creating immortal abominations of multiple people stuck together." I guess you could probably just put her down as Robotics. Mechatronics or something. Like sure she melted a bunch of guys, but she takes responsibility! Feeds em dog food! That takes responsibility. Bisexual"
"She had a friend who was a ghost, and they wanted to be famous! So she used her knowledge of robotics to build them a new body how they wanted! He became famous, as he wished! And Alphys worked on a bigger, better body that fit him well, though it used up a lot of power and needed more upgrades, hence why it wasn’t used often until the final battle with him (Him being Mettaton). But basically, Mettaton got a new body the way he liked it, changed his name, and started going by different pronouns (Mettaton is only ever referred to by they/them when people reference the ghost). Alphys allowed him to feel much happier as himself, and they’re great friends! Though, she did pretend that she created Mettaton and his SOUL herself, no ghostliness involved. But Mettaton did agree to that.
Because of her perceived achievement, (though her actual achievement was also pretty cool) Alphys was hired as the Royal Scientist for the Underground, and got to work with Asgore, the king of all monsters! She continued working with Mettaton, and Asgore asked her to try and find a way to break the barrier that was trapping them Underground without killing humans. Alphys found an interesting thing called Determination, or DT within humans using the SOULs of humans Asgore had killed and allowed her access to.
She tested it on some flowers in his garden to see what would happen, and nothing did. That she realized at the time, anyway. She had actually injected DT into a flower sprinkled with the remains of Asriel, the king’s dead son, and brought him back to life as a flower. Problem was, Asriel, or Flowey as he eventually called himself, didn’t have a SOUL anymore, since he was a flower. Thinking that nothing had happened, Alphys decided to try and see if it could really bring back monsters that had fallen down/were on the verge of death. She asked people for their family members that had fallen down. The monsters that had fallen down were basically dead, but the last of their magic hadn’t quite run out yet. However, their magic was being spent keeping their bodies from turning to dust, and they were unable to move, pretty much in a coma. So really, if it didn’t work, no harm done! Either it works and they live, it kills them, or it doesn’t do anything and they still die!
Alphys conducted her tests, and at first, it worked! All of the monsters were getting up and moving around! She contacted the families to send them back, but when she was about to, she discovered they had all started melting and had stuck together and merged into one being. She chickened out for fear of how the families would react, and proceeded to ignore a bunch of letters for quite a while. Eventually, she did own up to it, though she was immediately fired (by the EX-queen, not Asgore. Was that even legal?). The families were just happy to have their loved ones back, and while they were still somewhat upset, understandably so, they didn’t really blame her all too much.
ALSO!! She got a girlfriend!! She’s canonically expressed interest in Undyne, Captain of the Royal Guard and who would eventually be her girlfriend, Asgore, and the unknowable! She has made mistakes. Big ones. But honestly, I don’t blame her for the mistakes. The real problem was that she is incredibly anxious and let that get the better of her, leading to her not telling people important things that they deserved to know. She’s not the best at being honest."
Jade Harley:
"She's soo fun and silly and her symbol is literally an atom. she regularly irradiates steak to feed her weird dog"
"She and her nuclear powered dog creating a new universe. she's cool"
"Built a modded bass guitar that's only playable when she's in her robot form and has extra arms. Became a doggirl. She also plays the flute :)"
"i think you have enough ramblings about her already but i couldnt NOT submit her, she is so dear to me <3"
"bbg has THREE scientific specialties!! she genetically modifies plants and makes them grow beautifully high just because she can and loves science. in her alpha timeline she’s a tech mogul and creates technology that challenges the evil empress that brought earth to ruin. AND she’s a furry"
"Doggy"
"She plays a silly flute refrain. She's a furry. Literally, she's a doggirl. She's also a god and created the universe. JADE BEST GIRLIE!!!!"
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