Brjálæði

Normally, he would have left it at that. Nikto finally had a good whore to go back to, good for him. He would have assumed Nikto killed the girl immediately after.

But then there were the texts. At least once a day, the annoying, standard ringtone blared from the little black phone. Then Nikto would stop everything just to reply.

It was weird.

So Krueger formed a plan. It was flawless. Next time Nikto checked his phone, he'd snatch it and flip through the chats. Surely, if he had a toy stashed away Nikto would have told him. They were partners, after all.

But, as soon as Krueger tried, Nikto quickly threw his phone to the ground and smashed it under his heel. The big baby was always so dramatic.

Now, Krueger was more curious than ever. Nikto had a secret, and he'd stop at nothing to unearth it.

Flash forward to Thursday night. There was yet another long debrief. Krueger didn't care to listen. As long as he'd get to kill, he wouldn't complain about their next mission. And if they did well, they would retain the freedom of having a life outside of KorTac. An absolutely terrible idea on management's part, but he wasn't about to complain. Not when it gave him the perfect opportunity to sneak out a few moments before Nikto and scope out his home. Simple recon, that was all.

Nikto was taken aside with Konig while the rest of the operatives were dismissed. That meeting would no doubt end with Nikto blowing up at the Austrian man, most likely bashing his face in again. He never could stand Konig. But that gave Krueger a headstart.

Finding Nikto's house was far easier than breaking in. It was a surprisingly nice cottage far out from everything else, just within the parameters of where he was allowed to live. Surrounded by trees, there was enough covering for this place to go unnoticed. Entering through the front door was not an option, Krueger knew that Nikto had definitely installed a stupid amount of locks, and probably rigged some sort of trap or two.

So, he went through the back window. It was a challenge to get in, and fuck, if Krueger didn't love a challenge. It simply meant that the treat locked away had to be worth the effort. You had to be so sweet if Nikto kept you hidden like this.

After shimmying inside, Krueger took his time walking around the house. It was nice, he had to admit. KorTac's salary was unrivaled, especially considering the missions they gave to their operatives. It seemed Nikto's paycheck went to this place, Russian books and tiny knick-knacks decorating the shelves. There was no way in hell Nikto bought the latter for himself, confirming his suspicions. Someone else lived here.

Unlike in his stealth missions, Krueger touched everything, acquainting himself with his partner's living space. He missed the days when Nikto lived on base with him, locked away in a small cell across the way from his. Nikto could pretend all he wanted, but this ‘home’ he created would never be real. It was all a sad, desperate facade for a life he would never have. Krueger didn't care to play house, even if he had his own toy locked away, he was only using Lucas for sex. Nikto clearly gave you a higher role.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice that he was in the living room until it was too late. Soft breathing lured him in, a lullaby whispering to him to suffocate the breath for good. Krueger never could keep his hands to himself.

You were curled up, asleep on the couch, waiting for Nikto like a well-behaved pet. The blurry photograph Krueger had seen did not do you justice. He'd have to show Nikto how to get the good angles, making sure to spread your legs for the camera so he could see the perfect moment when he thrusted in. Yeah, Nikto was due for a good lesson. And with a thing as pretty as you, why wouldn't he want to keep your pussy in his pocket at all times?

Krueger circled, stopping right infront of you before crouching down to your height. It was truly a shame you were rotting away with such an ugly man. While he was here, he might as well give you a taste of what you were missing.

"Wakey wakey!" The loud, accented chirp echoed through the room.

You shot straight up, eyes bleary and hair a mess. You looked around the room wildly before your gaze finally landed on him.

"You're not Nik..." The realization came slow. Then, all at once. You kicked yourself back, scrambling over the back of the couch in an attempt to flee.

Only for Krueger to catch you by the ankle and pull you back to the cushions. “Oh, you're smart,” he mocked.

"Let go of me!" You screeched as you thrashed wildly. "Nikto will kill you! Get away!"

He laughed at your struggle, the sound airy as if he were with a friend rather than scaring the shit out of you. Nikto always preferred obedience, acceptable, but Krueger? He favored the girls who fought.

"I'm sure he will," Krueger hummed. "But why don't we have a little fun beforehand, ja?"

Tears were already starting to fall down your cheeks. Why hadn't Nikto told him he had such a pretty crier locked away? It was so unfair. Krueger would have been more than willing to offer his partner on the field a taste of his toy, Lucas, at home. They were supposed to be a team, the two resident psychos of KorTac. Hiding secrets was never a part of the deal.

"I want you to leave," you said quietly, but coherently. So you were using your words. Nikto truly did train you well.

"Well, that doesn't really matter, now does it?" Keeping one hand on your stomach so you'd stay pushed down, he used the other to push the heel of your foot against the bulge in his pants. It had been there since he was shown the footage of his last kill at KorTac. Nothing quite did the trick like gore. "Nikto, you see, he is like a brother to me. Does it not seem right for him to share his toys?"

You attempted to kick his balls, which he blocked, moving your foot away from his cock. He continued with a tut, "Nein, nein. None of that. Just giving a quick inspection."

As he tried to pry your legs apart to see what Nikto had been so desperate to protect, you wouldn't stop fighting. You were surprisingly strong, most likely from the times you fought off Nikto when he first stole you away. Krueger had thought Nikto would have beaten all the fight out of you by now. Surely you didn't think you belonged to him alone, did you?

You were screaming now, too. Nearly making Krueger's ears bleed. "Quiet, bitch."

"He'll kill you!" you spat in his face, hair mussed by the couch cushions. "Nikto will fucking kill you if you don't get off me!"

Krueger laughed. "You truly think you mean that much to him? You're just a toy, Schatz."

You started to shake as more tears fell. Shit. Krueger recognized what happened in an instant. You were going hysterical. This place, your situation, had caused you to teeter to the the edge. And Krueger had accidentally given you the final shove. Nikto was totally going to kill him.

As if on cue, the door swung open. And out came the man you kept whining so insistently about.

Krueger let go of you, allowing you to scramble to close your legs as he gave Nikto a shit-eating grin. "There you are, big guy. We were just talking about you—”

Nikto was on him in a second, grabbing him by the throat and throwing him against the nearest wall. A method of killing they both shared. The brutal asphyxiation made Krueger hornier, if that was even possible. He really should check in with a doctor or psychologist about a way to fix the 'compulsive sexual disorder' his last shrink diagnosed him with.

When Nikto finally spoke, it was a single word.

"Leave."

He didn't bother sugarcoating, he never had and he never will. Nikto was the same overly competitive, overly territorial man Krueger knew on the field. A mirror image of himself. It was intoxicating.

The pressure on his throat made it hard to respond, but that didn't stop Krueger from trying. "No way to... welcome guests... to your home."

Nikto would have been content to kill him and they both knew it. They had been in this situation various times before, just on opposite ends of the knife. They were brothers in arms, fellow psychos. Even if they were the same, they would not hesitate to kill each other. That had been clear since they had first been partnered up.

And oh, hadn't Nikto been so close to killing Krueger. They were the same in so many ways, lacking boundaries and sanity. But they showed it in very different ways.

It may have been another spirit that possessed Nikto at that moment, or perhaps your terrified expression, because he dropped Krueger, who didn't so much as flinch during the whole interaction.

"Why did you come here?" Nikto asked, crossing his arms and standing directly infront of you, blocking you from Krueger's line of sight. You were still on the couch, confused by the man in your home, and terrified of what he almost did to you.

"Why'd you hide such a pretty toy from me?" Krueger countered, shooting you a wink you didn't even seem to register.

Nikto did not return the playful tone. There were many reasons he could give, but the answer was pretty simple. Nikto didn't like Krueger knowing about you. Not because he didn't trust you, but because he didn't trust Krueger. He's watched the man jerk off to dead bodies on the field, he knew Krueger kept pictures of the bloody corpses of women he bedded. So yeah, Nikto tried to keep you under wraps. Nikto may be a violent nutjob, but Krueger would tear you apart and leave nothing left. At least Nikto took care of his pets.

Nikto had to look up at Krueger to meet his eye. He muttered a single, sharp insult. "You are filth. You do not deserve her.”

Krueger scoffed. "A little hypocritical, don't you think?"

Things were quickly turning ugly. Neither man had enough impulse control to back down from a fight. Neither had ever *lost* a fight to begin with. And Nikto had no qualms beating a man to a bloody pulp infront of you, especially after what he walked in on. You had seen him do much worse.

Surprisingly, it was Krueger who conceded, leaning against the wall like he owned the place. "Alright, I'll back off. For you, Bruder."

That was most likely a lie. Krueger was never content with his own toys, he wanted to take others, too. Break them until they were unusable. He was greedy and sadistic, which is what made him such a good killer.

For all the shit Nikto put you through, somehow, he was still better than Krueger. You were still curled in on yourself, not yet coming to terms with the mindfuck of what happened in a matter of minutes, or how Krueger was casually walking to the window without a care in the world. Apparently, once you got used to one psycho, another, worse one appeared in his place.

“Come over for tea sometime,” Krueger said, throwing a sleazy smile over his shoulder, offering a wave as he jumped out the back window. “I’m sure my Lucas would love to have a little playdate."

You prayed to whatever god would listen that you never saw that man again. If he was the alternative to Nikto, you were happy to stay in your little prison, picking up the scraps of comfort you were offered.

Immediately, you suggested an abortion. You didn't want a child to have to live the life you had been for months. And Nikto agreed. He didn't want a kid, it was too risky in his line of work if somebody found out, and he didn't want you to go through the pain of giving birth.

But then he picked apart the plan. He didn't want to take you to a doctor in case you tried to run, and he didn't trust himself or anyone at KorTac to perform an abortion safely. And he remembered the way his mother used to talk about him and his brothers. She called his birth, "самый счастливый день в моей жизни."

Was there a small chance that growing his family would make him happier? Kidnapping you certainly had. And a baby... perhaps it would give you something to do while he was at work. You had made it clear that you needed more than him to keep from falling back into a depressive spiral.

Nikto told you how he changed his mind, probably the only time he had. You looked hesitant to agree, but you didn't argue.

And since that night, you've seen him less and less. He'll be by your side two seconds flat if you need help, but other than that, you rarely see him. He even took to sleeping on the couch just to avoid you in bed. Being alone made the pregnancy even more unbearable.

But Nikto, as much as he wanted to hold you and your pretty round belly in his arms, could never bring himself to see you.

And the truth behind it? He was terrified.

Having kids was the most terrifying thing he had ever done. Yes, even counting the torture. He was legitimately scared that they would end up like him, that he would break them like he had done to you. And he was scared to be around you. One wrong word, one trigger, and he could snap. It wasn't just your life on the line anymore; it was the baby's, too. So, he thought it was better if he minimized contact.

But you couldn't stand it. He had broken you down and built you up again from scratch just to rely on him. And running to Nikto, crying in his arms, was always a risk. But hey, your hormones definitely made you even more attached to him. At least he wouldn't have to worry about you trying to escape after this. You were finally relying on him the way he wanted you to.

The pregnancy was obviously long and difficult. Stress made carrying the baby incredibly painful at times and the chance of a miscarriage was high.

Babies in Nikto's family always come late and fat, but healthy. Which proved true once again with his.

Contrary to the pregnancy, the birth itself was surprisingly easy, as far births can be. Nikto was by your side the entire time, trying so desperately to separate your pained screams from the ones he had heard on the field. The voices were somehow yelling louder, telling him what a mistake this all was, that he had led his precious pet to their death. The only way he could stay by your side was if he zoned out completely, letting you hold onto him while he shut down, only coming back to life when it was over and he needed to cut the umbilical cord.

Nikto let out a sigh of relief when he saw that the disgusting, squirming thing beside you was a girl. He had been secretly hoping for a daughter. He remembered how awful he and his brothers had been growing up, and did not want you to have to raise a mini version of him. No, this was a mini version of you, so soft and sweet, grabbing out to the only father she would ever know.

The baby opened her eyes almost immediately. And they were just as blue as his. As Nikto grabbed her in one hand and placed her on your chest, all he could do was pray that was the only similarity the two of them shared.

He expected you to be fine and able to take care of the baby by the next day. That did not happen.

As much as he didn't trust himself around the kid, he was pretty much single-dadding it for the first couple weeks because you were still recovering from both the pain and the mental side of everything.

Post partum hit you like a truck, forcing Nikto to help take care of the baby more than he would like. He didn't want this innocent, pure little thing to be in his hands. He held her only as much as he had to, scowled whenever he had to change her diaper, and decided letting her run around in a diaper opposed to a onesie would be easier for everyone involved. Children were much more annoying than he thought they would be. If she was crying, he took her outside and let her keep going until she couldn't anymore. He could handle the screaming since he was used to the noise on the battlefield, but it didn't make it any less of a pain.

He didn't give the kid a name, either. Instead, he called her, "щенок" to match you. His pet and his pup. It had a nice ring to it.

When you finally were able to get out of bed again, you couldn't even try to change the name, because she was already responding to it. It made you burst into tears to see how your she had already bonded to her father more than you. Well, that and the fact that your daughter was a living, breathing reminder of the hell you failed to escape. It hurt to see your baby like that, but you couldn't help it. When you looked at her, all you could see was him. You wanted so badly to love her, and you knew it wasn't her fault, but whenever you looked into her eyes you could only lose hope. You'd be stuck here forever, because even if you had the opportunity to escape, you wouldn't be able to leave her behind.

You hoped that the Stockholm syndrome would hurry up and set in because your daughter deserved at least one parent that could love her.

...

As life continued, Nikto kept trying to raise his child from afar. Holding her for only a moment, before deferring her to you. He even started wearing the mask around his now-turned toddler, worried he would scare her like he did the new KorTac recruits.

But the moment he came home from a mission, and his daughter ran out of your bedroom and straight to him, giggling and hugging his leg tight, he let himself soften a little.

That day, when you finally woke up from your nap and realized your daughter was missing, you had dashed down the halls only to find Nikto on the floor with her. They were playing some sort of game as he spoke softly in Russian. She babbled along with him, the nonsense syllables far more coherent than the ones you had tried to teach her in English.

She was always a little traitor. A daddy's girl despite everything. It made you feel insane to question Nikto anymore, when your daughter clearly loved him so much. And perhaps he finally loved something enough not to hurt them. A girl could dream, right?

But when it came to serious matters, Nikto did not spare any kindness. Especially because whenever his daughter acted out it was in similar ways to how he used to. Small, sociopathic tendencies you couldn't see, but he could. Stomping on bugs, destroying things, hitting you during a tantrum. It's not like children didn't occasionally do these things, but to paranoid bastards like him, everything was a sign that she would turn out like him. And he took it upon himself to deal with.

His punishments for his child were nowhere near as bad as yours were, but CPS would certainly not approve. Withholding the small affections he gave her, locking her in the dark with nothing until she calmed down, hurting her enough to force her to learn a lesson. People couldn't understand the pain they put others through unless they were put through that same pain. It was best his daughter learned this early

He tried as hard as he could to be a father. And for a while, he could fall into the domestic fantasy. But eventually, things always come to an end

And lastly, I’d like to say that once Nikto eventually kills you, he would not kill his daughter. Instead, he'd take her to that nice old couple in town (fuck the foster system and fuck everyone he knew personally) and abandon her at the doorstep, not leaving a trace of himself behind.

You nodded, staring at the mountain of shopping bags that was now invading your living room. “Yeah… I missed you guys too,” you said, taking a step towards the bags. They're all from baby stores, luxury children's boutiques, maternity wear stores, you name it. “Where’s Sylus?” you ask, wanting to speak to the true perpetrator. 

As soon as you mention his name, in he walks, looking as effortlessly gorgeous as usual. For a split second, the idea of dragging him to your bed consumes your thoughts, but you swiftly suppress it. Then you notice his hands. He has more bags. He drops them the moment he sets his eyes on you. 

He takes two long strides towards you. “Sweetie,” he says, pulling you into his chest. “I missed you so, so much.” You pull back and look up into his eyes. His hands quickly come up to cup your cheeks, thumbs brushing your cheekbones. “We missed you too,” you say, looking down at your swollen belly. He leans down to kiss you, chaste and gentle, but you do the unthinkable. You deny him.

You push against his chest and take a step back. He drops his hands to his side in shock. Did you really just deny him the otherworldly pleasure of kissing his wife? He can’t remember the last time you did that, if ever. What could he have done wrong?

You stare directly into his wide, shocked eyes, crossing your arms. “Sylus,” you say, long and drawn out, “please enlighten me as to why there are, like, a hundred shopping bags in our living room.” You gesture to the room. 

He chuckles and adjusts his watch. “I just thought I would get a few things for you and the baby, kitten,” he says nonchalantly, stepping toward you again and settling his arm around your waist, dropping his head towards your ear. “As an apology for being away so long,” he whispers.

“Sylus,” you grab at his arm, “we do not need all this. We already have a fully stocked nursery.” 

“So?”

“So? So we don’t need all this unnecessary stuff, Sylus!”

“Don’t you want our baby to have the best?” 

“Yes, but this is too much! She’s going to be spoiled!” 

“What’s wrong with that?” he asks, cocking his head to the side like a curious cat. 

It hits you then. You had never really thought about it before. This baby was going to be spoiled, and her father saw absolutely nothing wrong with it. What did you expect from the man that had the entire N109 zone shaking in their boots?

Luke, Kieran, and the rest of Sylus’ men have slowly filed out of the room, leaving you and Sylus alone with the mountain of shopping bags. 

You peel his arm off your body, grabbing the first tissue paper-filled shopping bag that you see. You hold it up towards Sylus and pull out the contents. “See? Why does our baby need a…” you actually take a good look at what’s in your hand: “A Swarovski crystal-encrusted onesie! Really, Sylus?” You give him a deadpan look and drop the onesie back into the bag. 

 “It’s cute, kitten. Do I need another reason?” He crosses his arms and shrugs his shoulders, as casual as ever. 

You pick up another bag. “A-and this, a Louboutin baby shoe? She won’t even be able to walk.” 

“Fashion doesn’t always mean practicality, sweetie.” 

“A pure silk blanket? That's not even useful.” 

“It matches our robes.”

“Four different types of breast pumps? These are like $400 each.” 

“I want to make sure you find what’s best for you.”

“Okay, that’s actually very sweet. Thank you, honey.” You sigh, defeated. Your husband practically worships the ground that you walk on. You can’t even begin to imagine the lengths that he would go to for your children.

He slinks back over to you, placing one hand on your belly and the other around your back to pull you close. You succumb to his embrace, unable to resist your husband's affections any longer. You drop your head onto his chest, wrapping your arms around him. “Our daughter is going to be spoiled, isn’t she?” you ask. “Yes,” he answers, almost too quickly. “There’s nothing I can do about it, is there?” he sighs into your hair. “No, my love, no, there is not.” 

You look up at him, getting on your tippy toes, urging him to lean closer. He leans down, your lips inch closer to his, nearly touching. “Just try not to spoil her rotten. Okay, Sy?” His breath fans over your nose.

 “With a mother like you?” he says, voice dripping with devotion. “She could never be rotten.” You smile at him.

Finally, after a whole week of being deprived of him, you kiss your husband. It was long, and gentle, and perfect.

Your eyes snapped open, teeth grinding together, but you still didn’t turn to the source of the sound, even when a quiet whisper accompanied it.

“Beloved.”

“I’m trying to rest, Rafayel,” you sounded, frustrated. The last rays of sunlight were disappearing over the horizon and you wanted to bathe in their glow a little longer.

A small sound escaped the back of his throat in response, a little desperate and a little cajoling. You heard movement behind you and felt him sit on the sand, close enough for him to lean over and nuzzle your head with his tenderly, persuasively, begging you,

Pay attention to meeeeee

Salty water drops dripped onto your skin from his hair and you sighed irritably, wiping them away and finally turning to face your eager lover, unsurprised by the array of small gifts dropped in front of you.

Small, pretty stones, an array of shells, some carefully cradling iridescent pearls, even some cute bright orange starfish clinging to seaweed.

You looked upon them, unimpressed. When your gaze lifted to Rafayel’s face, he sat up straighter, an earnest, hopeful expression gracing his features.

“No,” you said simply, flipping over again to face away from him.

You couldn’t see him, but you knew he was making that crestfallen expression that resembled a kicked puppy. Still, you sensed him stand up and plod away and thought you had finally shaken him off- for a short while, at least.

You settled once more.

Most of the people had left the beach, save for a few stragglers that were all packed up and calling their young children out the water. The sky shone a beautiful purplish-pink, the last dot of bright yellow disappearing as the first few stars began to glitter above. The seagulls were quiet, preparing to rest for the night in the safety of their flocks.

The soothing lull of waves lapping against the shore accompanied you to slumber, eyelashes fluttering against your cheekbones as you enjoyed the smell of the fresh sea breeze, completely at peace.

Plop!

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

You turned quickly and smacked Rafayel’s nose before hopping up and trudging into the waves, diving into them and disappearing into the water below.

…

“He is so annoying,” you communicated to a small red octopus, grumbling.

You were laying on your belly on the sandy seafloor, playing with a baby octopus who was having fun darting in and out of different coral, daring you to catch it.

“I know it’s almost ebb time, but I just wanted to have fun and relax today. We don’t get to go on vacation often, you know?” But all day Rafayel had been cuddled up to you, clinging to your skin like a barnacle to a ship. Whenever he wasn’t stuck to you, it was only because he was out in the reefs and tide pools searching for little courtship gifts to entice you into mating.

You were fed up. You weren’t in the mood yet he still kept trying.

Your dark blue tail swished against the sand irritably, chin propped in one hand as you frowned. “Our ebb times have been synced for a long time now, so why is it only him who is acting so needy?”

You squished the little octopus’ head and it stretched out a tentacle from the yellow coral, wrapping around your finger.

You sighed and shook the annoyance from your mind, focusing on the creature.

“You know, up there they have a hundred different delicious ways to cook you.”

The octopus froze before quickly darting back into a hole.

You chuckled. “It’s okay, come out, I won’t eat you…”

An eye peeked through one of the tiny holes in the coral, suspicious.

You sobered your expression, trying not to laugh. “I swear to the god of tides. You wouldn’t be a satisfying meal, in the first place.”

It tentatively emerged once more, slowly sticking to your palm and peering up at you.

“What should we name you…” you murmured. “Raf and I already have a fish named Reddie. Hmm… should we name you ‘calamari’?”

Calamari blew bubbles at you unhappily, wrapping its thin tentacles around your wrist tightly and suctioning. It felt like a small bug landing on you.

You laughed at its expression. It was too cute. It almost reminded you of Rafayel when he was pouting.

“Hahahahaha-”

Your laughter abruptly halted as you sensed him enter the water. The octopus jittered, clearly also sensing the shift in the water as the god of the sea transformed beneath the waves.

You turned away, muttering “this horny fish” under your breath.

It didn’t take long for Rafayel to find you.

He swam through the reefs, gliding between coral branches and giant clams, finding you rested beside a yellow diploria on the seafloor. Your gazes met and you scowled up at him, delicate ear fins fluttering in warning. Sending signalled vibrations through the water. He could almost hear your voice.

Don’t even try it.

Yeah, he was sure if he tried to get close to you the best he would receive was a scratch from your sharp claws.

He thought for a moment- as much as he could with how itchy his blood felt beneath his skin. His scales twitching felt unbearable, his head hot and heavy even submerged in the cool water.

An idea formed in his mind. It had been a while since he had done this for you- not since your first mating- but it was what his body was designed for, afterall. Why his tail was brighter and glossier than yours, a stunning mix of blue and silver created to attract his lifemate. His fins large and fanning his sides, the fluke of his tail expansive as it caressed the water.

You were turned away from him, but upon feeling strange waves emanating in pulses through the water, you turned back with a frown, unadmittedly curious as to what he was up to now.

Above the bright coral reefs, the pale moon casted its glow through the water’s surface, shining upon the beautiful merman whose arms were arched above his head, smooth silvery scales shimmering down his body in ripples.

His lean body seemed to gleam as his long, sinewy tail gracefully moved in slow, rhythmic pulses, every scale all the way up to his ribcage and collarbones catching the moon’s light.

As he began his mating dance, even the little octopus wrapped around the tip of your webbed finger was blushing.

You shook it off, irritated. Quickly swimming past Rafayel, you blew a bubble at him and swished your tail in his face.

As if you were going to give in that easily.

He didn’t move from his place even after being rejected. He knew you too well. Eventually, you wouldn’t be able to help yourself and you’d return to look. You just had your pride.

It had been a while, but instinct guided him in the dance.

His body twisted through the water, arms gracefully accompanying each movement, each motion an attempt to convince your attention and put on a display for you. He knew, wherever you were hiding amongst the coral, you could feel the vibrations of him carrying through the water. He could imagine you shivering as each pulse glided over your sensitive scales, every movement a call to your instincts to return to him and tangle with him endlessly. Telling you,

Beloved, I’m here. Accept me.

Come, let me hold you.

Come, dance with me.

Sure enough, he soon felt your eyes on him again, peering through branches of coral in the same way hordes of fish and sea creatures were, dozens of pairs of eyes locked on the ethereal merman.

Spurred by his mate’s attention, Rafayel’s side fins fluttered, creating eruptions of bubbles and small whirlpools around him. He swept through the water, strong tail swaying. He twirled as he arced upwards, back arching for rays of moonlight to kiss the pale expanse of his stomach.

You watched him carefully from your hiding place, searching for any small mistake in his courtship dance, but as usual, he was perfect. A true work of art in his every movement.

When his tail swished, your lower belly tightened. When his wrists twisted in an intricate movement above his head, fingerpads slowly touching, your heart jittered. Pride was slowly and unwittingly leaking from you.

Chin held high, he was every inch the god of the sea. Resplendent and majestic, he knew how beautiful he looked. How irresistible and alluring.

Every motion was smooth, designed perfectly to impress you. You felt the rhythm of the sea in his dance, how intense his love and desire was for you, as endless as the sky littered with stars above.

His scales rippled, tail undulating as powerful hips rolled. Little mating clicks came from his throat, punctuating the intentions of his movements.

A low, humming sound rumbled from your chest, involuntary and quiet, but carrying straight to Rafayel, alerting him to your position. His eyes immediately locked on you, hidden low between the coral and seagrass.

His pink lips tilted in a soft smile. A patient, serenely divine smile that hid the lava bubbling in his veins.

But his eyes… they couldn’t hide it.

Long lashes lowering, they framed eyes glowing a bright purple-blue hue, irises snapping with intensity as his own rumbles echoed from his chest in response to you, urging you to come to him and let him take you.

Swallowing hard, a slight sound of distress left you. Without even touching you, his gestures were wrapping around your body and mind, immersing you in scalding memories of how it felt to become one with him. As a last-ditch effort, your head turned away, gills quivering.

But you were helpless. How could you face away when there was something so entrancing before you? Your eyes were soon drawn back to him as if an invisible hand was pulling your chin.

Watching you from below heavy lids, he immediately recognised when your expression shifted from disciplined to sultry and inviting. Haloed by the moon, he subtly moved forward, sharp eyes watching your every movement. How even that small action had your throat stuttering, chin dipping inadvertently in submission before your mind had completely warmed.

Your fins trembled as you whimpered, blood rushing to your fingertips and head. Your lower stomach knotted in response to his sounds, how low and animalistic they were. They shot straight through you to your most private parts.

Defeated, a slow leak of pheromones floated through the water from you to him, a clear and familiar signal to him that you were ready for mating.

The chemicals sunk through his skin and his fins fluttered even faster, heartbeat quickening, instincts excited. Enough of the back and forth. He quickly swam to you, immediately wrapping you in a tight hug.

Tone tender and husky for such a fierce grip, he whispered against your lips,

"Bushiaĝen."

You groaned, hating how much you loved how warm he was as he cradled you to him, one strong arm wrapped tightly around your shoulders as the other slithered around your waist, head buried in your neck to smell you.

A long whining sound left his throat as your heady scent completely engulfed him, desperate, open-mouthed kisses placed to the column of your neck as the two of your twirled upwards, tails naturally entangling, his longer and thicker than your own.

The two of you embraced one another, not yet mating, but hugging and nuzzling- a new dance, meant for intimacy and foreplay rather than showing off. Your heads rubbed together, little sounds reverberating from both of you, responding to one another in a perfect duet. Your eyes shut as he kissed your forehead, ears and chin, licking and sucking the delicate flesh.

Any sea creatures looking upon this sight would have seen two halves of a whole- the sea god cradling his bride close, whispering words of soft, sensual encouragement to her. Words only meant to be shared between the two of them. There was no room for anything between them, bodies tightly entwined as he held her protectively, possessively.

The sounds erupting from your chest steadily grew louder and higher, distressed as if you couldn’t stand another moment without being joined to him in the most intimate of ways.

Rubbing against him more, you signalled what you needed, that you were ready. His side fins stuck to your tail tighter, wrapping around you to protect you and keep you close. The sigh you released was dreamy, pleased with his affection. Resting to him, you let him carry your full weight. Your bodies curved up, his sturdier one wrapping around you completely to ensure you felt safe, hums of reassurance cascading from him as he stroked the small, firm scales on your back.

You didn’t want to let go, but you both felt too exposed to any dangers lurking- not to mention you didn’t want to be interrupted. It was a male lemurian’s role to find a suitable place for breeding, so Rafayel took your hand.

You easily followed, intrigued. Your own blood felt itchy now, want surging stronger whenever the two of you were separated by rows of tall coral and rock as you swam through pure blue waters, reuniting to nuzzle like two magnets unable to part.

A large, intricate orange sea fan separated the two of you, your eyes locking through it. The scales on the sides of your breasts shivered. His eyes were glowing blue, instincts completely taken over. Quickly swimming past the sea fan, he circled beneath you to nuzzle your belly.

He led you further out into the ocean, to cooler waters where coral couldn’t grow. But you didn’t feel cold. Even when you met a drop-off and he led you downward- far, far, down until the blue water darkened completely. With the sun asleep for the night, the water was almost black, but both of you could see and sense each other, right by each other’s sides.

Flesh and blood hot, your scales were turning a darker, midnight blue, your own desire rising with it. You made a little noise, impatient and wanting his touch all over you again.

He responded instantly with reassurance, clicking his tongue at you, letting your hand go to wrap an arm around your waist.

Finally, he led you to a cave etched deep into the side of the underwater rock cliff, nudging you inside quickly. Flicking the tip of your tail against his chin, he was met with a flirtatious beckoning smile before you disappeared inside.

He followed, both of you swimming as deep as the cave went, sensing the snug rock walls surrounding you. If eggs were nurtured from your union, you would carry them until you found a place like this. Deep, dark, quiet, safe. You would lay them there, taking turns with Rafayel to watch them until the hatching.

In the depths of the ocean, all was quiet. So deep you could no longer hear the waves above.

It was perfect.

You made a noise of approval, happy with the place he had chosen, and he latched onto you from behind, large palms splayed to your belly as your tails wrapped around each other once more.

Tilting your head back, your lips met in a sweet kiss, just touching to express affection. It was only when his hands started stroking your sides, deepening the mood again, that you turned in his embrace to kiss him deeper, sliding your tongue between his lips to meet his own. Your saliva mixed, sharp teeth lightly scraping each other’s lips.

He allowed you to kiss him as you liked, reciprocating easily and not fighting for a more dominant position, hoping it soothed you as his hand rubbed lower.

He found the place where your scales had softened as your arousal grew, the slit-like opening exposed.

You moaned softly, trembling as he rubbed the entrance. It was a different kind of wet- more slippery, allowing two of his fingers to immediately sink in.

The whimpers in the cave grew louder, swallowed in Rafayel’s mouth as your hands tangled in his soft hair. He prodded your entrance, slowly retracting and inserting his fingers, testing your wetness, how deep you would allow him.

You were warm and wet inside, your natural slick gooey and inviting. Soft, encouraging sounds left your throat, growing whinier when you felt his own sex rub against you. Hard and exposed from his slit, it was large and the same silver-blue as his tail, growing darker at the tip that was rubbing against your opening. You smelled him, too. Natural lubricant was leaking from the tip of his penis, sticky and musky with a hint of the same scent that emanated from the blood running beneath his skin.

It didn’t help your impatience, only heightening your arousal until your entire body buzzed, slit squeezing tight around his fingers.

Cradling his head in your arms, you held him close, nibbling and gnawing on his shimmering purple ear fins. You wanted to beg him to hurry up, to press his chest to yours and fill you completely. But he didn’t make you wait long, just as desperate as you. You had made him wait the whole day, after all, ignoring every one of his courtship offerings. It wasn’t possible to tease or delay any longer. Now, he just wanted to bury himself in your warmth and thrust until his seed spilled inside you over and over. Until you smelled completely of him and him of you.

You lost the ability to speak as his tip pushed in, the first few inches unbearably thick as they stretched your entrance.

Whining, you pushed on his chest. It was always so much when you were in your lemurian forms. He was more elegantly built as a human, and the two of you had spent most of your time as humans recently, so you needed time to adjust again.

But it wasn’t an adjustment he was willing to be patient for. A sound rippled through the water from deep in his chest. Somewhere between a growl and a hiss- sternly warning you to stay still, more animalistic and hostile than he was in human form- just as he bit into the shell of your ear and pushed inside you completely.

Lemurians had always been a race that relied on strength, intelligence, creativity and deep bonds regardless of gender, but when it came to mating, particularly around heat times, males were typically more aggressive and dominant, needing their partner latched to them without hesitation.

Your body quickly gave up any resistance, swallowing him whole, the fronts of your tails pressed tightly to each other’s.

You both moaned at the feeling, burying into each other’s necks. The connection felt wonderful. Overwhelming as it was, it also sated the bottomless, primal craving gripping your centre. He allowed you that small moment of reprieve, a mere whisper of a moment, before he began grinding against you.

Sturdy arms wrapped around your torso, enveloping you completely as Rafayel kissed the side of your face, biting your earlobe and jaw, stuttered moans escaping him as he rubbed inside you. Your arousal coated him completely, every crease and fold of your insides dragging along his length as he moved.

The feeling was unbearable for you. Incredibly sensitive, all you could do was hold him tight and lick long stripes across the gills on his neck, tangling the tip of your tail around him securely.

“Is it good? Tell me I’m making you feel good. You’re so wet inside, so perfect- you liked my dance, didn’t you? I’ll dance for you whenever you desire, beloved…”  

You were surprised he could still communicate. He looked far gone, eyes dark and pupils dilated, his chest rumbling against yours. He was holding you so tightly it felt as though he wanted to merge you into him.

You twitched around him, nodding helplessly as you buried your head in his bicep, nuzzling the skin there.

It was good. So, so good. You couldn’t stop licking his skin, every inch from his arms to his face. Your insides pulsed around him, the stretch now welcomed as your bodies continued to join.

Shockwaves of pleasure rippled through Rafayel’s body, making him more aggressive. His strokes became quicker, rougher. Clouds of water swirled around the two of you.  

Everything was still outside the cave, so dark and quiet time seemed to stand still. But within, every inch of you was on fire. Tails entangled, the two of you refused to part. He whispered lemurian words into you, sweet words in rough tones, groaning gutturally when you scratched down his muscular back, nails digging into skin.

You were so pretty. So, so pretty. His female. He couldn’t hold onto an ounce of sanity, not with you slick and dripping, surrounding him and entirely engulfed by him.

He was so deep, your tight sex welcoming his cock, eating him alive as the urge to claim you, to mark you, sent insistent aches through his gums. Then, everyone would know who you belonged to. Who satisfied you. Who you allowed into your body over and over again. The only male that could touch you, mate you and spill inside you.

So deep beneath the waves, there was no room for ridiculous human logic. That was an entirely different world that didn’t exist in the cave. There was only the sounds of bodies coming together, doting and anguished all at once. The heady scent of male and female pheromones swirling together in an intoxicating concoction that spurred piercing, brutal thrusts.

Hissing, you clawed at his chest, upset at a particularly puncturing thrust. He met your dark, slitted eyes with his own unforgiveable pair, blue glowing in the cave’s blackness. Instead of easing on you, his arms tightened, squishing you to his chest.

There was no getting away. You weren’t sure if you wanted to. The instincts pounding beneath your flesh had your tail squeezing his tighter, closer. Wild, agonising moans poured from your mouth as sharp teeth latched onto your shoulder and bit down hard.

Rafayel felt your entire body freeze up, rigid for one moment before you went completely limp for him to do as he pleased. Slurred moans flowed from you, head swimming with pleasure at his show of claiming. The stinging pain coursing through you swirling with desire, heightening the emotions, the attraction, the mind-numbing instinctual surges of bodies crashing together like waves upon the shore.

Ah, it was bliss. Your insides clung to him, sticking to him and refusing to let go. His spine felt like it had been stung, his entire body trembling and sensitive as his muscles tightened with the need for release.

You knew he was close when his movements grew even more frenzied. You pushed your hips forward to meet his quicker.

He cupped your neck, groaning “beloved” before sweeping your lips into a kiss that made your scales flutter. The tears that sprung in your eyes quickly floated away and merged with the swirling dark water surrounding the two of you.

The grinds of him inside you stuttered in their pace, lips breaking away at the overwhelming pleasure as he came. Spurts of hot seed poured deep inside you, gushing into your womb. His hips gave small, uncontrollable thrusts as you tightened around him, milking every drop of the thick liquid he gave you.

You moaned and held him to you tighter, every female instinct within you completely satisfied at the feeling of him filling you. You were sated- for now, at least.

But he wasn’t.

You floated for a while together, letting the water carry the two bodies that were curled around each other, but it wasn’t long before he was using his stronger body to manoeuvre you to the sandy cave floor, your insides still twitching and sensitive with every movement.

But he didn’t seem to care about that. He always lost a bit of finesse around ebb time. As soon as you touched the floor, his hips were moving again, stroking deep, telling you everything you needed to know.

We’re not done yet.

You made me wait so long… it’ll also be a long time before we’re finished.

I want to stay down here with you forever. Just us. Do you like that?

I love you, I love you, I love you, I want to give you everything. Take it all. Take everything I give you.

Lemurians typically spent days mating around ebb time, little need for food or sustenance, the only thought piercing through pleasure-dazed, cloudy minds the constant urge to join with their mate and breed until the male’s seed took.

For hours, the two of you stayed like that in the cave, the ocean the only witness to your love. You didn’t part for the entire night, staying closely locked in intimacy, a mess of tails and limbs, heated kisses and powerful thrusts.

Neither of you were willing to part, even falling asleep with your tails tangled in the brief moments of rest he allowed. His tail would be securely wrapped around yours, his cock still buried deep, enjoying the feel of how velvety you felt inside with so much of his silky cum filling you.

He would wake you with little kisses and bites to your neck, silently telling you,

It’s time to open your eyes, beloved… let’s make love again.

It was only when the sun awakened once more, and the first rays of golden light pierced the dark waters outside the cave, that you two slowly swam out. He guided you back towards the light, swimming straight up to where bright light broke through the surface of the ocean.

He stopped at the top of the drop-off, just before the reef area where sea creatures bustled.

You tilted your head curiously, smiling when he cupped your cheeks to press one last kiss to your lips, gently touching your foreheads together once more, reaffirming your bond sweetly after a night of frenzied passion.

The deep sound you loved rumbled from his chest, conveying everything he wanted you to know. You nuzzled into his neck in response, his own chin dipping to nuzzle you back affectionately.

If anyone was on the beach so early in the morning, they would have seen two long tails in the shallows, slowly retracting into two pairs of legs as frothy waves crashed upon them. Two people, still holding each other close.

🎤 Now, whenever he wants you attention, he tends to hum more and more around you. He knows how much you love it when he sings, so he does it around you to get your attention. 🎤 He also has a habit of showing his marks and eyes more when wanting attention. Like how I said earlier, when he's in his demon form, he's stronger and more likely to catch your eye when moving around. 🎤 If you still don't pay attention to him, he becomes desperate. He'll wrap his arms and legs around you from behind and cling to you like a koala. If you can't lift him, he'll do this where you'll lean back onto something soft, like your couch. If you can lift him, he'll do it anywhere, doesn't matter to him if he gets what he wants. 🎤 After catching you attention, Jinu clings to you for hours. And if you really need to leave, he makes you promise to spend time with him after you're done with your work.

💪 Abby and you were known for how physically affectionate you were. He always had a hand on you, whether it be on your thigh while sitting or even his hand intertwined with yours, physical affection is something he loves. 💪 Since physical affection is his main love language, he loves having your attention. So, when he wants it, he does anything he can in order to get it and keep it. 💪 One big thing he does it not wear shirts. Not shocking, I know. 💪 The reason of being shirtless is because; one, he likes to show off his abs, and two, he knows that you like seeing him shirtless. Whether you make it obvious or not, Abby knows what you like a dislike as if it was the back of his hand. 💪 He also has a tendency to make more jokes than normal for attention. A majority of time though, he just gets a look from you that screams; "That was bad, do not retell that joke ever." 💪 If he gains your attention, Abby does not like to let you go. Even if the rest of the Saja Boys come to grab him for practice or a performance, he tries finding any way he can think of to stay with you. He just got you to put your phone down, let him have an hour of hugs!

💖 Romance, unsurprisingly, adores to have your attention. He'll do almost anything for your eyes to meet his figure, whether it be something seemingly normal to something that shocks anyone around. 💖 One of the more docile things he does is doing your hair and helping you with outfit ideas, sending you links to Pinterest boards he creates for you. Most of the time he's right beside you and hugs you from behind, telling you each reason why he chose the outfits. 💖 Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the board, Romance will end up wearing light-up shoes. The Saja Boys do end up video-calling you and aiming at your boyfriend's shoes, asking if you could please get him out of them. "We need to match, and I would rather be burned alive than wear those... things." Baby said. 💖 The most common thing you'll see is that he ends up hugging you. It's always physical touch. Anytime you're out running errands or when you're out working, his hands are on you somewhere. 💖 If Romance gains your attention, he, like his fellow Idols, doesn't like letting you go. He keeps his hands on you, not in a forceful way, he understands that forcing touch on someone is uncomfortable and wrong, but in a gentle, loving way.

☄️ Mystery is more of a wild card when it comes to attention. He doesn't like having a lot of it, but when it comes to you, it's as if you attention and love is his life support. ☄️ He is quiet with what he wants, always making subtle actions in order to gain your gaze. He will lightly brush your hands in an attempt to gain your attention to hold his, if he fails, he stays beside you silently. ☄️ One of the most common things he does for attention is move closer to you, brushing his body against yours. A big thing he likes is your hands moving through his hair and against his scalp, so if he wanted that, he'd move his head against your hand kind of like a dog. ☄️ Another thing he does it he puts his hair up. He'll grab a bandanna and use it to keep his bangs back. He knows that you love seeing his entire face, so he'll expose it more when he's around you if he wants your eyes on him. ☄️ Whenever he successfully gains his attention, he ends up clinging to you as if he had separation anxiety and you had left him alone for hours. It always makes you giggle when he wraps his arms around your waist and lays his hand on your stomach, practically purring as you gave him the affection he wanted.

🎼 Baby is the third most clingy of the Saja Boys with his lover. He isn't extremely obvious, but if you are paying attention, you can see the signs of how much Baby wanted his lover's eyes on him. 🎼 When you and Baby moved in together, those signs emerged like fire in a skillet. He would constantly be touching you, mainly having either his head in your lap or his feet on your lap. 🎼 The most common form of attention-seeking Baby does is writing his songs down with you. He takes inspiration from random things he'll find online, and when he finds something, he'd ask you if it sounded good for a rap. 🎼 He also randomly will leave you notes of his raps or words of affection. Most of the time combining them into small, heartfelt raps that never failed to make you smile. 🎼 Baby, when he gains your attention, ends up talking to you. He'll answer any questions you have and even ask you some back, wanting your conversations to continue for as long as he can make them last. 🎼 When out in public, he tends to keep his hand in yours, his eyes on his phone while his eyes constantly shift to you whenever you speak, whether to him or someone else. 🎼 The Saja Boys wonder just how you can keep the makae's attention away from his phone, to which you just smile as Baby hugs you from behind, shrugging. You didn't know how, but you enjoyed every second of him loving you.

“Rest,” he says, not even bothering to look up at you as you watch him make another conconction—whatever you and the little one (as he likes to call her) craved for today. It was a little mix of everything, and while Gun had wanted to tell you that this is not healthy, he could not resist you and your cute little face.

So what if he had gone soft for you? You were the only one who could see that softness anyway, and it’s not like he had lost his edge. He still makes a living, completely barricading this part of life away from prying eyes and loud mouths—namely Goo and the rest of HNH—while ensuring that the Four Major Crews aren’t doing shit that could possibly tarnish whatever he had worked so hard for.

All that matters now is you and your daughter.

“But what if I don’t want to?” you argue lightly, though it sounded more of like a tease. Gun had a tendency to be overprotective, making sure that you’re comfortable. If you wanted a massage now, he would almost immediately drop the baking sheet to go and wash his hands before tending to you.

He was quite literally the textbook definition of a househusband.

“Aren’t you a little hardheaded this afternoon?” he asks, looking up to see you glowing. Gun thinks he might have a heart attack with how adorable you look in your maternity dress, how you have that cheeky expression in your face that he loves looking at.

And while he initially was fearful of the pregnancy, it looked good on you. Looked good to the point that he wanted another kid because you being so round with his daughter made his heart ache in the best way possible. “You should go and take a seat on the sofa. It’s like sitting on a cloud,” he says, knowing damn well that he had it imported from whatever country it came from only because he wanted you to be comfortable during this whole pregnancy.

“Yeah, but,” you start, sitting on the bar stool as you watched him pipe animated designs on several pieces of cookies. “It won’t be the same without you,” you say, happiness evident in your tone as you put a hand on your stomach. “And our princess wants to see her dad create a masterpiece on those cookies.”

That was enough to make Gun smile—a rare one to his colleagues, quite normal to you—and while he thought that was cheesy yet adorable, he has his own lines ready to quip.

“How funny,” he says as he finishes piping one of the cookies before handing it to you to taste. “Because our princess needs to know that she,” he points at your tummy. “Is mom and dad’s magnum opus.”

GOO KIM

Goo has done a lot of stupid things, and while they are stupid, they are well-calculated. He doesn’t make a move where he knows he’s on the losing end because Goo will always benefit in the end.

This, however, is not something that he had calculated. He was also unsure if he was going to benefit from this because he hadn’t thought this through. Maybe it was also the panic and anxiety talking because he’s not supposed to talk and think like this whenever you’re involved—making it sound like you’re just some random business deal that he needs to get over with when you’re not.

You’re worth more than whatever pile of money was waiting for him at the end of every goal he has.

Still, he can’t even deny it himself—the news had shaken him up. Though thanks to years of masking his feelings, he’s definitely a lot better at not showing whatever emotion that was about to consume him because you look so happy.

You look so happy at the fact that you’re giving him a child at this age. Goo wonders if you’re as crazy as he is because holy shit, the two of you were only, what? In your 20s?

You should be partying at the club and not getting knocked up by him because: a) he’s got a lot of shit to do in the underworld and he’s involved with incredibly dangerous people, b) he’s an idiot that wanted to go raw, and c) he’s unsure if he can be a great father to this kid.

Goo, at most, plans 5 steps ahead, but with you wanting to keep the baby, he must plan at least 10 steps ahead because God knows whatever life is going to throw at him next. He was still unsure about the pregnancy—the thought of being a father—but he sure as hell would give you everything to ensure that you only have a smooth and less-awful pregnancy.

So, months later, his protectiveness shows.

Really.

“Jungoo, I’m fine!” you argue with your boyfriend as he held your hand, the two of you descending down the stairs of your new home.

He was insane enough to get you a house—away from prying eyes so that you and your beloved baby girl will be safe, not worrying about anyone who could possibly attack the two most important people in his life. “I can go down the stairs just fine!” you exclaim.

And while you almost push him down the goddamn stairs, Goo keeps a tight grip on your hand, the other on the small of your back. “You don’t know that, cupcake,” he says gently, eyes flitting from your face to your pregnant tummy. He feels his heart swell a little because going through the ultrasounds, the parenting books, the look of the nursery—everything made him excited.

A far cry from his initial response to when he found out you were pregnant. “Let me do this for you, okay?” he says gently, trying not to trigger a possible mood swing from you. “Ugh, fine,” you retort, letting him dote over you. “Only because you look funny begging,” you say, in which you receive a face from him.

You think about how Goo had always been so mobile, always in one place and then another because he has business deals all over Seoul. But with you, he’s been so patient, the most he’s ever been considering he always liked to get things done in the quickest, Goo-est way possible.

“Thanks, Goo,” you murmur as he safely helps you down the stairs, your hand immediately resting on your stomach. “Anything for you, sweetheart,” he says, leaning down to kiss your forehead before placing his hand on top of yours. “And for our sweet little angel too.”

JAKE KIM

Jake hadn’t really thought about being a father at such a young age.

Considering his lifestyle and as the leader of Big Deal, Jake had wanted to make sure that before anything like a pregnancy happens, or at least progresses, he had removed himself from the gang life.

Sure, he treats Big Deal like family because that’s what they are to him, but at the end of the day, there’s always a sick reminder in his head to never ever forget that it was still a gang—and the two of you having an unplanned pregnancy while he’s still the leader of the said gang makes him want to spiral into the abyss.

But even if he was in a state of shock and in worry, he doesn’t show that to you—not when you looked so horrified right in front of him, hands trembling, your tears instantly filling your lash line as you broke the news to him. You confirmed that you were indeed carrying his kid after a trip to the clinic.

“Hey,” he says as he holds your hand in his, engulfing them. “We’ll be okay,” he assures you in a quiet whisper, hunched down a little as makes a promise.

That’s what he tells you—often does, anyway. Jake was the type of person to reassure everyone around him that things were going to be okay, even if he himself was unsure of what the future holds. But he knows he’ll do something about it, make a plan—he had always been the type to step up no matter what challenge was thrown towards him.

A few weeks in your pregnancy, you began experiencing its symptoms. Jake could hear you retching your guts out in the bathroom, his immediate instinct was to get out of bed and quickly follow to help you. The swinging of the door was heard as you were keeled over, feeling his large hands help you with your hair before letting the other rest on your back.

His expression softens as he rubs your back. “It’s okay, baby,” he whispers, and you only hum a response in return because you didn’t feel like talking—the weight and realization of becoming a mother slowly sinking in with the symptoms.

Shit, he feels bad. Jake knows you well enough to know that you’re in deep thought, and he thinks that you wouldn’t have to carry majority of the burden if the two of you had been careful enough. But you wanted to keep the baby, and it’s your body therefore it’s also your choice. In the end, all Jake can do was be there for you and be the best support system for you.

“I’m here.”

GITAE KIM

Fatherhood is a foreign concept to Gitae.

If anything, he thinks—knows, that he’s not meant to be a father. He doesn’t have the gentleness and patience of a parent. Sure, maybe he can be stern, but never in his life did he think that he would be a father. Can you blame him if he didn’t know how to be one, given how he was born out of wedlock? How his own father barely acknowledged him, his first born, and so he turned into whatever this is.

All Gitae knows is that he was a man made to remove people—a man who resented his own parents; resenting them for giving him life when he didn’t ask for it.

He knows that being a parent isn’t for him. So when you told him you were pregnant, a multitude of thoughts had come to his head.

It was as clear as day whenever Gitae recalls the moment you broke the news to him.

How your voice trembled when you spoke to him, pupils looking like they were about to spill salty tears. How you were visibly shaken, making yourself look smaller in his presence, utterly distraught at the fact that you were pregnant when the two of you have been so careful. How you had endless apologies slipping from your lips, not bothering to look at him out of fear that he might get rid of you and your unborn child.

Gitae doesn’t know if the odd pain in his chest was normal whenever he remembers that devastated version of you that day. Even if the two of you had such an unconventional start in your relationship, at the end of the day, he still chose to risk it all with you despite not knowing the first steps in loving someone—in caring for someone other than himself.

At the end of the day, he still wants you in his life no matter how dangerous it was—because he had a silent promise not just to you, but to himself.

That he will protect you because he wants you standing by his side.

“You’re pregnant,” is what Gitae says as he looks down on you, the sentence he utters sounds more like a statement than a question. It was as if he doesn’t completely register the revelation you just told him—the look in his eyes could be described as two things: distant and hollow.

But this is you, not some random woman—not a concubine. So he tries to take it easy on you.

“Do you want to keep it?” Is the first thing he asks, and when you take a while to respond, he leans forward to hug you—a moment of reassurance and affection, quite rare. An unspoken I’ll be here for you. And once you said yes, Gitae steels himself for nine long months of pregnancy—and a lifetime of fatherhood.

Though, he thinks he’s faring better than expected.

Months later, he finds himself massaging your feet as you tell him about how your daughter was giving you a hard time today, constantly kicking, making you want to lay down constantly. And apart from that, pregnancy in itself made it quite heavy for you on your day-to-day, so you asked Gitae to give you a foot massage.

To which he surprisingly obliged.

He only hums as he listens to you, a grunt and even a small chuckle escaping from time to time. “Mi flor,” he speaks, looking at your stomach. “Don’t give your mama such a hard time. She’s already dealing with papa as it is,” he jokes lightly, but he doesn’t notice the slight look of concern that you give him.

He makes it sound so horrible dealing with him. Maybe to his enemies, yes, but Gitae had been nothing but different with you in the best way possible. “I’m sure our little flower just misses you,” you assure him lightly. “After all, papa had been gone majority of the day. She hasn’t heard your voice as much,” you tell him, and he glances at you with a softened expression.

“Is that so, mi flor?” he says, halting in his movements of tending to your feet as he sits next to you. “Well, papa’s here now,” he murmurs, rubbing your stomach gently, feeling his daughter kick, and that instantly brings a small smile on his lips.

“Should I tell you what mama and I plan on giving you when you’re born?” he asks his daughter.