MIMI POV:

There's something about seeing (Y/N) and Tae bloom into their own as parents that make a strong aching pride flutter behind my ribs, hammering quicker as I watch their small family of three grow together, see the way their orbits, their gravities haven't been wrenched from another, simply expanded to revolve around their love.

And Taeseung is Tae entirely. Whatever little protest Tae had put up that as he grew, we'd see more of (Y/N) in him had been entirely quashed now. Taeseungie was Taehyung's carbon copy. An exact replication in teeny.

The same boxy smile, the same wild dark curls, the same brown eyes bright and expressive. The same overwhelming enraptured love for (Y/N). Their worlds revolved around (Y/N). And Taeseungie was no different than that. He loved Tae with all his heart, but there was no mistaking that he was his mama's baby boy through and through.

And how could he not when day by day, impossibly but surely, visibly Tae falls further and further in love with (Y/N), their love solidifying, expanding, filling every particle of their being, of their space that the love they share is redefined, remoulded, expanding constantly as they fall.

But there's also this aching want that blooms alongside it.

It isn't immediate and I don't know when it takes root until it festers in the corners of my mind, making my heart with a bittersweetness because Joon and I could never have what Tae and (Y/N) have. We could never have a child to call our own in the same way they did.

We wouldn't be able to bring a baby into the world even if I knew we both ached to, we would have difficulty adopting, we might be able to over every obstacle, over every barrier... we might be able to. But it was a small miniscule opportunity that could slip out our grasps before we could even clutch onto it with a solid grip.

And even then—some greater part of me ached for a baby that was ours.

So to stifle and soothe and apply a balm to that ache I love Taeseungie fiercer and with every fibre of my being and then some and there's not a single cell of my body that doesn't accept and call him my own. A visceral claim that's been there since before birth, since the moment (Y/N) told me she was expecting—that moment when my heart had splintered with fear at her sickness only to forge itself together with a strong unwavering love because (Y/N) was going to have a baby. And that baby was wholly mine in every way even if blood didn't tie me to him. He was my son in a way blood bonds could never forge.

And I know Joon loves and cherishes Taeseungie with the same fondness. That Taeseungie is his son too.

"Mimi!" the word is yelled with delight, with as much enthusiasm and energy a toddling three year old body can contain and even then it seeps out magnetic and thralling and tugging our attention immediately to the figure that waddles past the tinkling chimes, peering upwards; distracted briefly by it no matter how many times he pads in, eagerly rushing forward with a wobbly certainty only tiny toddlers can have. Hands outstretched to be scooped up immediately even as Tae and (Y/N) follow behind him, deep loving smiles as they watch teeny Tae barrel for my legs, briefly clinging to them before calling for me again.

"Mimiii Mimi!" scooped up immediately, warm eager kisses pressed to my cheek as he nuzzles against me, curls tickling my skin, smelling so intrinsically of soft talcum and the gentle floral note of fresh laundry. All cottony soft.

"Hi baby boy. How's my sweet Tete doing?" I coo, lips pressing to one chubby cheek then the other, playfully trying to nom at them, teeth faintly nipping at soft, soft squishy cheeks.

"Good!"

"How's baby mama and big Tete doing?" I ask, free arm outstretched to draw her into a hug first and then Tae, carding my fingers through his curls the same way I do with Taeseungie.

Watching two pairs of boxy smiles directed towards me.

"Good... but Tete wanted a sleepover with his Mimi." (Y/N) says, lips curved with fondness, watching as my eyes brighten, turning to look at the three year old who means our entire world, watch as he nods eagerly, pressing closer to me, head resting against my cheek happily, fingers fiddling with the slippery material of the silk, curiously letting his fingers skim across my necklaces.

Years have let him outgrow the habit of tugging at them, venturing back into the safe space of wearing jewellery without the fear I'd get a fist curling into them to yank eagerly.

"Always after my jewels? Got a keen eye like appa." I tease, watching as he marvels at the way the chins look against the soft knuckles of his own, eyes shining.

Tae's grin pleased and proud.

The same venture he'd made back into jewels once more and he looked all the more like the glittering, sparkling bandit that (Y/N) had fallen in love with.

The clothes more muted, though no less fine, dragging all the attention to the gems that glitter against honeyed, sun-kissed warm skin.

He looks like the Tae (Y/N) fell in love with yet both of them changed, settled with a confidence in their own skin, as parents, as slightly older versions of themselves than when their paths crossed years ago.

"He's my son through and through." He admits with a radiant pride that's imbued in every syllable, watching with a fondness as teeny Tae curls against me, peering over my shoulder with curious excitement both at the store, that curiosity never dims much to Joon's delight, and for the man in question himself.

"Where Joooooonie?"

And teeny Tae was delighted at the prospect, not sure who not to make appa even if he loved his uncles, and they him, with a fierce giddiness.

Teeny Tae was at the centre of all our worlds, the force of nature we all orbited around. The heart of our family.

"He might be in the garden—want to go pick some flowers with him?" an eager nod, carefully being set down before he's barrelling forward in eager toddles in the way only three year olds can.

An enthusiasm that's uncaring of the winding, looping near maze the shop can be, but everything he discovers, accidentally or not, delights him, lights up brown shining eyes even more, his eager loud calls for Joon ringing out even as he rushes about, three pair of eyes tracking him as he dashes.

Joon steps past the curtains that lead to the back just in time, hands swooping to steady the stumble when he goes knocking right into his legs full-force, scooped up with a whirl and a rich laugh, deep dimples that are immediately poked as Taeseungie giggles.

"Little bean you've grown!" a shocked marvel on his face, lips curving into a deeper grin when Taeseungie wriggles in his hold.

"M big bean!" he declares proudly.

"What do we call a big bean?" Joon asks, carrying him towards us, laughing at the eager patting and drifting of Seungie's hands as he fiddles with the apron, with the dried sprig of flowers tucked behind Joon's ear, snuffling at his face eagerly, burrowing close to sniff at it before he rears back, nose scrunched.

Frown scrunching his face until Joon reaches a finger to poke at soft squishy cheeks, poking at the frown until he beams. Boxy and wide.

So entirely Tae.

"A sap-ling!"

"A sapling" Joon cheers, voice full of pride and joy as he presses a kiss to Seungie's cheek, rifling through his pockets briefly before he tugs out a wrapped sweet to hold out to him.

If possible Seungie's eyes brighten and light up, tugging impatiently at the wax paper that wraps it, clutching the wrapper to proffer back to Joon.

For a three year old he has an astute memory, remembering to hand wrappers over rather than letting them flutter to the ground after the handful of times Joon had caught Yoongi letting them scrunch and fall before holding another sweet to Seungie's boxy lips.

"No strawberry bonbons for me Joon?" Tae's voice is deep and teasing, boxy grin delighted as he watches the eagerness Taeseungie brings the soft sweet to his mouth, the bonbon making one cheek puff as he sucks at it, happy wriggles at the taste. Chewing at the familiar treat.

But (Y/N) nudges Tae aside, making a beeline for Joon first, brushing past me with a laugh, rifling through his pockets himself to tug out the sweet for herself.

"When it was one of my strongest cravings? I'm pretty sure that's why Joonie always has them on standby."

"We've heard tales of your card playing during your third trimester. Yoongi always makes sure there's a supply." I share with a grin, though I know if she asked he'd deny it without a shred of a waver or tell to his voice and expression.

Watching her eyes flash with petulance before warm affection crinkles her features, humming around the treat she swiped before Tae darts forward a few moments later, a brief yelp of surprise when he ducks his head to taste the fruity sweetness from her lips directly rather than steal the sweet she's holding.

Her hands reflexively clutching at his front to tug him closer to deepen the kiss before Seungie's voice fills the space.

"Kissy me too!" an eager demand that everyone is all too eager to fulfil, giggling as he's sandwiched between me and Joon, kisses peppered across his cheek, pressing loud mwahs against soft, soft cheeks and watching as he giggles, boxy smile wide and giddy.

"Mama kissy me! Appa kissy me!" loud boisterous demands as he squirms to be passed over, scooped by Tae immediately who presses kiss after kiss over every inch of his face, their heads curved together, their shared likeness striking as I look at them.

The same curls, the same eyes, the same smiles, the same giggles even.

See the way he pats at Tae's cheeks with fondness, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose before squirming when Tae lunges to press kisses all over soft pink cheeks and curls, (Y/N)'s eyes bright with tenderness, letting me snag her whilst the two are distracted. Pressing a kiss against her shoulder.

"What brings the love of my life to the shop? Don't say you're out of contraceptive tonics already~ when do you two have the time now that my teeny Tete's learning to run about and explore?" voice teasing and quiet, laughter huffing into the crook of her neck when she digs her elbow at me in a subtle, not subtle gesture to quieten.

"As if I'm using you just for the birth control." She laughs.

"I'm the opposite of birth control sweetheart. I bet I still have the same effect on you." teasing and delighted in dragging my eyes slowly over her, our voices hushed and playfully riling, her hand tugging mine to poke at the ring.

"You're a taken man Mimi~"

"I might be into sharing." I grin.

Joon's dimples deepen, deep grooves, amused and fondly exasperated as he sees the two of us.

"Maybe you can teach little gem how to share too... he doesn't like Tae trying to steal kisses." Voice hushed and confiding.

Demonstrating with a subtle tilt of her head as Seungie searches for her.

Arms stretched out for mama to scoop him, immediately burrowing against her.

Pressing a kiss to her cheek, to her ear before proffering his eagerly.

"Mmmwah!" a big kiss pressed to his cheek, then the other, boxy lips stretched wide as he cups (Y/N)'s cheeks to press a kiss to her nose, to her lips, giggling when (Y/N) tilts her face close for another kiss.

Eager eager kisses that come to a screeching halt when Tae snags (Y/N) to turn her face to kiss her too.

A swiping arm and hand that intercepts, blocking Tae's lips off, much to his chagrin, turning (Y/N)'s face back to him so he can get another kiss.

"Mama mine!"

"Can't appa get a kiss?"

"No!" pressing his lips to the corner of (Y/N)'s wide smile to emphasise his point, soft pleased giggles when she coos at him, fingers brushing over his curls, poking and squishing a cheek.

A frustrated genuinely fussy yell when Tae tries to duck away to press a kiss to her cheek, wide eyes staring betrayed at his appa, frown scrunching his face.

"Mine! I kissy mama!" arms looping around her neck to burrow against the crook of her throat, mumbling it into skin, her hands cradling him, eyes shining with joy as she nudges Tae aside with a hip.

Eyes crinkling at his pouting lips.

"See what I mean?"

"I think teeny Tae's got the right idea~ it'll teach your bandit to learn to share too... seems like he gets it from his father anyways." I crow, lips curved into a grin that only deepens at the faint huffy scowl Tae sports.

"He's smitten with (Y/N), just like you Tae. Can't blame little bean for having good sense." Joon teases, moving to undo his apron, tugging it over his hair, my fingers smoothening over rumpled hair.

Squeezing his nape as he steps closer to me, wrapping an arm around my waist to slot himself against my back.

"But he won't let me kiss her when she's holding him!" protests huffed against her hair, against her neck, under the scrutiny of eyes focusing on him, peering over his mama's shoulder to keep track of where his appa moves.

Even if he laughs and giggles when Tae rumples his hair, when he ducks about trying to surprise him... he clings happily to (Y/N), arms clutching at her. Wound secure around her nape.

The three of them are an intertwined entangle of limbs, of bodies pressed close, curved together, but that small family extends out and her eyes beckon me closer, lips pressing to my jaw once Taeseungie's decided to clamber down and go explore the shop with Joon.

"You'll be okay to have him for the day?" arms winding around her to cradle her in a tight squeezing embrace, unable to resist the temptation to whirl her round, scooping her to me.

Hands cradling her body to mine.

"Of course! I've been working on something for him." I whisper, pressing a kiss to her hair before I relinquish my hold on her, only to tug Tae into a hug.

Laughing when he squeezes me tight, words low and amused.

"You two are spoiling him with clothes and toys." Voice accusatory.

"He's our baby­—he's my son." I say proudly, watching a resigned slant tug at boxy lips.

"But still... he doesn't need silks." Gaze narrowed and pointed.

"Don't worry baby... I'll reign Mimi back. And use that silk for something for you. Or me~" words teasing and insinuating.

"A better investment." Tae agrees with a low drawled lilt to his words, the baritone of his voice dipping deeper, huskier.

I laugh as I nudge him towards her.

"Go forth and be risqué. Don't do anything I wouldn't do~" playful warning as I move to find Joon and Taeseungie, hearing the delight and mischief in (Y/N)'s laughs.

"There's little to nothing you wouldn't do."

"Exactly."

Smile growing as I hear the tinkle of the chimes and the goodbyes called out as I head to the back.

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"Do you think... do you think we'll ever have our own baby?" Joon murmurs, voice quiet and low, contemplative, hand skimming down my side before he draws the sheets around us, fingers moving to cup my jaw, angling my lips to his for a slow aching kiss.

The tremor to his mouth not missed or lost against my own, feeling the tight coil of his limbs under my touch loosen slightly, kissing me slower, softer when I clutch at his wrist.

"I want to. I want nothing more than that with you Joonie." I murmur against his lips, the haze of pleasure quietening to give way to aching vulnerability, thumbing at his lips before tugging him closer for another kiss.

Slow and unrushed. Bodies and hearts bared to one another, the aching hollowness soothed by the way we meld together, by the way we press closer, unconsciously chasing away an absence that we've begun to notice. Begun to crave to fill more and more.

"But people will always look at us last for adoption—if they would even consider it. I don't want to hang our hopes on someone's last resort." He murmurs, an ache in his eyes that can't be erased because we've gone through the feeling all too much.

Failed adoptions or surrogacies because of one reason or another. Sometimes... most of the times it was them. Most of the time we weren't fit enough in their eyes. Most of the time they couldn't fathom giving their baby to a couple the entire town wouldn't recognise, that archaic, backwards thought wouldn't legitimise.

Because for them our love was more blasphemous than wanting to be rid of the child they were bringing into the world but didn't want.

And sometimes... sometimes we couldn't bring ourselves to entrust our entire hope and dream of a baby to a surrogate we didn't know, to a woman we had no connection with... neither of us could bring ourselves to entrust the fragile dream we had and insert a stranger into our life for it.

"I don't—I just want us to have our own baby too. But—if it keeps falling apart then maybe we're not meant to have one." I murmur, see the pain flicker in his eyes before a greater sense of comfort and soothing tenderness smoothens his features out.

"You know—finding you, loving you was more happiness than I ever thought I'd get to experience."

"You're telling me this? When you walked in looking like my hottest fantasy and sweetest dream all at once? I got lucky."

But there's words more than I can say.

That this is my entire world. You're my entire world Joon... I want to expand it but that doesn't mean you change from being my centre of orbit, from being the one I want to share everything

"I'm luckier. Because with you, with (Y/N), with the others—you brought me into a family. You helped make it grow, you helped me grow. So if... if fate doesn't bless us with a baby, then I'm happy spending my entire life so entirely in love with you."

And for now... for now we find that same comfort and reprieve in one another. And let each other soothe the stinging possibility that we might never have a baby of our own. But if that happened... then we'd let that ache heal. We'd heal and grow together.

----------------------

She doesn't speak. Doesn't offer empty words and promises but just squeezes me impossibly tighter, her body a cradle for my own to settle in, find respite in, to breathe in the warmth of her skin, to feel the thud of her heartbeat against my skin, arms winding tighter to burrow into her.

There's no words spoken because none are needed.

She understands the grief without me needing to say it, understands and feels the ache alongside me, tears soaked by the fabric of her dress, her fingers against the back of my head, cradling me against her.

She doesn't speak nor does she rush me to.

She holds me for as long as I need to be held, she holds me long after the roaring in my ears quieten and I can hear the raggedness of my breaths. She holds me as my heart thuds wildly, desperate to escape the confines of bone and blood and she holds me until that too calms.

She holds me, fingers brushing under my eyes, a faint crease between her brows and the weight of my feelings supported by her readily. Shouldering my aches with an unshakeable strength.

It's not until hours later do I get to bring up the words that've been stifled and suffocating inside do I get to say it.

The heartache on her face as raw as the anguish I feel clawing at my own.

"I want a baby. But I don't think we ever will."

[......]

"You'll be the best father Mimi. You and Joon."

"But how? Some people are barely accepting of me and Joon... they're not going to let us have the happiness of having a baby together."

"Mimi I will fight the world if I have to. But if you want a baby—then even fate won't deny you your happiness."

"Fate doesn't love me."

"I do. I love you. And don't gamble on fate Mimi... gamble on you and Joon. And how much you want this." Eyes fierce and sharp, blazing with a fire and strength, bolstering and supporting me.

"I want it more than I've wanted anything."

"Then it'll happen." She murmurs.

"I'll help you. I'll be here for you. You deserve this happiness Mimi. You deserve every happiness you wish for."

And it's (Y/N)'s words that bolster me once more, that gather the fraying, shredding scraps of resolve and want. Gathers up the fragile, bruising parts of myself to draw to her, to let the balm of her touch, her words, her presence soothe over.

The kiss she presses to my forehead trembles, lingers there, her hands cradling my cheeks, keeping me tucked against her, drawing me to her.

She knows... somehow every grievance, every fear, every moment of helplessness she knows and she doesn't promise it'll fall away immediately, she doesn't promise a when, but she believes it with a certainty and she holds me until the rockiness of uncharted waters come to steady and I learn how to remain afloat in them.

----------------------

"Go to sleep baby mama...take a nap." Voice coaxing and lilting, arm curling around (Y/N) to draw her against me, steering her towards the stairs, our pace slow and unrushed, body pressed close to her back, feeling the warm heat of (Y/N)'s body against mine, one arm curling to me, the other cradling Taeseungie to my chest, tiny limbs wound round me in a koala hold, hugging himself tightly to my frame, cheek squished against my shoulder, breaths even and deep as he sleeps.

"I'm not tired." Lips curling in a smile when I steers her towards her bed chamber regardless, hand nudging at the low of (Y/N)'s back, barely half a step behind me, a familiar ease as I navigate the space, motioning for (Y/N) to clamber into bed regardless.

Carefully cradling Taeseungie even closer, both hands steadying the small koala-clinging body that unconsciously tightens his grip, small arms winding tighter to clutch at me when the movement subconsciously alerts him to the potential loss of his mattress, whining and fussing, cheek rubbing against my shoulder before he settles. Soothed again.

Settling into bed, carefully and slowly positioning myself so I can sink down onto the bed beside (Y/N), body half-reclined against the headboard, arm stretching out for her the moment I'm comfortable, her body pushing closer, shuffling nearer until she's tucked against the crook of my arm, nestled against my side, arm sprawling around my waist, head against my chest.

"My two babies." words fond and low, head tilting to brush a kiss against dark curls and then to her temple, smile curling when she leans further into him, fingers squeezing at my waist.

There's this overwhelming fullness I feel in moments like these. Being there since Taeseungie's birth and there every single day... there's no doubt or question in my mind that he's as much my son, my baby as he is Tae and (Y/N)'s.

And it's moments like these where that ache turns into a gnawing want, a wistful realisation that this way I got to have the same moments, this way I could live. Happy and fulfilled. Taeseungie our baby too.

That this way I get to experience that fulness of family. Feeling his soft weight against me, comfortably pressed to the lines of my body even at the expense of the stiffness of my own. Refusing to move or adjust him to get more comfortable even if it means my head is angled so he's burrowed against my throat and tucked to me and body in a half-recline.

But try as I might I've never been able to hide anything from her.

And in the quiet as Taeseungie sleeps her gaze travels slowly over me, knowing every single anguish I've hidden from her, the parts I've not told her and still—still she looks at me as if I'm lain bare and she's known everything. Even if I couldn't bring myself to share every hurt—the tenderness and knowingness in her eyes makes it all the more harder to not let my grief spill from my lips.

Throat bobbing as I turn my gaze to Taeseungie, fingers carding through his curls, head dipping to brush a kiss there, lips trembling at the weighted silence that begins to thicken.

"I love you Mimi." Voice soft and quiet. Hushed but her words carry. My head darts up at the words, eyes softening when she curls closer, pressing herself further into me so that Taeseungie is sandwiched between the two of us, her hand squeezing my waist.

Feel the warmth of her body as she leans in closer, hair brushing against my cheek before her fingers delicately, carefully tilt my face to meet hers, the sincerity in her gaze warm and penetrating and rooting me there.

"Sweetheart I'll always love you too." I murmur, tilting my face to her palm, brushing a kiss against skin.

"You know I'll always, always love you. And be there for you in every way." She continues.

I nod slowly, feel the faint tremble in her hand before she lets her hand drift, drawing herself up to hover over the two of us, fingers brushing through the strands of my hair.

"I know."

With (Y/N) there's been nothing but certainty when it comes to her, with her I've never doubted or felt fear or anything but security when it comes to her.

With her I know that the love we share will always be beyond words, beyond limits, beyond bounds. Every cell of my body loves her.

"I don't—I want to talk to you before you... before you and Joon give up on your dream." Words hushed and quiet.

Trembling with a waver of uncertainty and nerves, her words sparking a coiling tension, stomach churning at her words.

Hand stilling against dark curls.

"(Y/N)—"

Her fingers skim downwards, pressing a soft featherlight kiss to my cheek before she draws back, lacing our hands together to squeeze tight.

"Just a chance. To explain."

I give her a silent nod, a thrumming tension brimming away under skin as she looks at me, gaze sincere and raw and so, so vulnerable.

"I know... I know you two have struggled so much with the process of having a baby. I know it's hard and near impossible to trust someone to have your baby for you. I know how hard it is to want a child not to complete you but to add to you because you have so much love to give, so much trust in one another."

There's a tightness to my lungs that her words bring, a prickling discomfort that makes my throat close up, my lungs constrict as a breath gets stuck there. Unable to be dislodged. Unable to draw in a breath to relieve the pressure that mounts higher at the months of grief and despair and hope that have fallen away. That have been spent buried in life, in Joon, in (Y/N), in family, in seeing Taeseungie grow.

"Baby please..."

But her eyes implore me, beseech for the chance to speak, to be heard out.

And I swallow down the plea to let the words fall away.

Hands cradling Taeseungie closer, tugging at her hand to draw on the comfort of her presence regardless.

"You love Taeseungie as your own. But if you would trust me, if you would want me to... I would be surrogate. I'd bring yours and Joon's baby into this world. I'd do it for you two Mimi."

My lips press tight, teeth biting down on my tongue to stifle the pained noise that's wrenched from the depths of my throat, not able to stifle it entirely, throat bobbing heavily.

Voice turning hurried, rushed, eyes wide and placating and a glossy sheen to them. Earnest and raw.

"I would. I would be the surrogate for your baby. I would do it if you two would want that."

The offer hangs suspended between the slither of space between the two of us. It hangs delicate and fragile and fraught with the tension that thickens with the weighted sincerity of her words.

"I know that you two have been hurting even if you try to hide it. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me—you really think I wouldn't notice that my soul's been in pain?" voice soft and trembling, head shaking as she murmurs my name, the sound a hitch of breath before she blurs. Her fingers quickly brushing against my cheeks, catching the tears that fall, welling up.

A broken sound as my head tilts to burrow against curls, trying and failing to hide the way her words batter at a broken dam, every frayed barrier crumbling and disintegrating.

"I don't want to rush you or force you. I just want you to know. That I'm here, I promised to be here, to be here every step of the way." Head tilting to rest against mine, foreheads touching. Her hand settling over where my hand cradles Taeseung, feel him stir slightly before burrowing closer, the soft puffs of his breaths felt against the crook of my neck, fingers reflexively tightening their grip then loosening.

"If you give me a chance after you two have talked, have had the time to—my answer will stay the same."

"(Y/N)... (Y/N) you can't just say things like that—"

"Have I ever said something I didn't mean? Would I ever—ever say something I had no intention of following through? Especially this?"

I shake my head, trying to draw in gulps of air past the tightness in my throat, cheeks damp with tears that trickle out unbidden, despite her fingers trying to catch the tears that well up and spill over.

"(Y/N)..." my voice cracks on her name.

In this instant she's every prayer, every plea, every want come to an answer, she's salvation and hope so raw and tangible and visceral that I feel it amplify the churning of my stomach and the nerves that fizz under my skin. But alongside that there's a dizzying rush of feelings and thoughts that swarm my brain, drown out thought, drown out the ability to form a coherent sentence that even begins to express the overwhelming realisation... the magnitude of the words she's spoken.

She hasn't offered anything short of a whole life, she hasn't offered anything short than a way to fulfil our dreams and to overcome the barrier of trust with a surrogate we wouldn't know.

My hand tightens around hers, tugging her closer, the two of us mindful of the four year old that sleeps tucked against me, fearful that the hammering of my pulse will stir him awake. Head burrowed into her hair, hand moving to wind around her, tugging her close, feeling as if in that moment the two of us are melded together. Even more so than we ever have been before.

She doesn't need to say anything more. When the words she's spoken has made the entire world fall away and only the two of us remain. When her words offer up the world for us.

For a baby that would be ours.

Dark curls become the burrow and shelter to try hide the ache that spills from my eyes, sniffles against Taeseungie, swallowing down the loud force of the new hope that bubbles up and spills over at (Y/N)'s offer.

My name a soft whispered murmur, aching and gentle as she tilts my face to hers, soft eyes holding my gaze and fingers brushing against tears.

The kiss she presses to my forehead lingering as she curls closer, softly brushing a hand down Taeseungie's back before squeezing my arm.

"(Y/N)... how can you offer us the gift of a whole world?" I murmur, words trembling, hitching with the waver of my shaky breathing.

Her eyes are glittering with a sheen of tears, nothing but raw openness in her gaze as she looks at me.

Encases me in the orbit of her eyes and lets me find solace in them.

"I would give you the world if I can Mimi. If you want."

And months of futile wishing and wanting... comes to fruition in a way I'd never expected, never dared consider, never even in the wildest, rawest dreams envisioned.

And she hands it to me, she offers it with the unwavering vow to always be there for me.

Only this time—she gifts me a gift that'll never be repaid or forgotten, she gifts me an entire new joy to fill our empty laps in the way we've silently longed and somewhere—somewhere no amount of hiding or sheltering those fragile hopes could be hidden from her.

And the soft weight in my arms suddenly seems fuller, seems more.

Because she offers to help us have a baby that's truly ours.

-----------------------

The sight of tears trickling down Joon's cheeks yank at the fraying heartstrings that twist and pull with ache when he wraps his arms around (Y/N) to draw her into a tight, tight hug. A hug that robs her of breath and is imbued with the shuddering overwhelmed waver of his own, cradling her to him with a gentleness and fierceness, words shaking.

"Thank you... thank you (Y/N)... thank you so much." Voice raw with hope and disbelief and that entangled mix of emotions that amalgamate together and can't quite be differentiated. The tightness that makes my stomach churn all the whilst it flutters with a swarm of butterflies, my throat feeling tight as I watch her curl to him, arms wrapping around him. Tears welling in her eyes as she smoothens her hand down his back, a soft murmur of his name.

"If you want to say no..." I murmur, Tae's elbow gently, and yet not, nudging at my side, disbelief on his features, a softness with the knowledge that makes his eyes tender and gentle. Shaking his head.

"I trust you. I trust (Y/N). I know that it might not make sense to the world. But I don't care. It makes sense because it's you and Joon. It makes sense because it's you and (Y/N)." A simplicity to his words, an unwavering strength and belief in them too and he must read something in my expression because he draws me into a fiercer, tighter hug that crushes my breaths against him and I clutch at him tight, gripping at him in silent, sharp gratitude—the words stuck in my throat but he senses anyways.

"I know." He murmurs.

That's all he needs to say.

We've come a long way since when we first met.

And the man that holds me now shelters and shoulders the weight of our dream fiercely alongside (Y/N). The two of them, voices clear and unwavering and eyes speaking of that intense, intimate communication and trust.

There was trust between the four of us.

That's why it was going to work. That's why we were going to try.

Because our lives, our pasts have been entangled in more complicated ways than anyone could ever try understand or imagine. And because at the end of it all, (Y/N) loves Tae with a burning wholeness that consumes the two of them in the same way I love Namjoon.

The love that I share with (Y/N) isn't the same, it isn't romantic but it's every other level and more, it's beyond emotional and physical, it's bar from any barriers that have been torn down over a decade ago. (Y/N)'s my person. And I'm hers.

And that's why it'll be okay.

Even if it's daunting—cripplingly terrifying to talk it out, to discuss it, all four of us will be stronger and secure in our place in each other's lives because it's not normal or conventional. But because it's us.

"I don't know how I'll ever be able to thank you two enough." Voice wavering as he squeezes me tighter in response.

"You don't thank family."

---------------------------

Despite talking it out it's daunting. Daunting until it's not.

(Y/N)'s hands squeezing my shoulders before she drapes herself across my back, tugging my eyes from the shirt I'd been working on to peer at her, her eyes encouraging and warm, lips pressing to my cheek before she curves further around me.

"So stressed you might have trouble getting turned on?" voice teasing and playfully taunting.

Despite myself, a snort slips past my lips, carefully securing the needle before I tilt my cheek to hers.

"I've spent the better part of a decade learning you better than even you might still not know yourself." I laugh, the stress dissipating at her words.

"Just remember, it's only me. You don't need to worry and it's okay to have fun you know? I'm really fun in bed."

I let my hand drift to cup her cheek, drawing it to mine, hearing the smile in her words even if my eyes aren't holding hers, even if I'm not looking at her.

"It's not only you. It's because it's you I don't want to..."

"Underperform? Have a boring baby-making session?"

"I admire your confidence that just once is enough to make a baby. Whether that confidence is in me or you or both..."

Her laugh bubbles up, cheek rubbing against my hair, tilting her head to rest against mine.

Humming as she contemplates.

"Both."

"And I don't underperform in bed. Or anywhere I decide to take the fun." I protest, tilting my head back, watching as she draws back.

She's matured further into her self, into her skin, into her body and the curves that motherhood gave her four years ago, they've come to settle confidently too. Though she's no less stunning, no less beautiful than the woman I saw her grow into, the person I grew with.

"I'll hold you to it Mimi. Remind me of our good old days." She teases.

"We're not old and we had better than good times." I protest.

She laughs, curving further into me, letting me tug her to draw her around, setting the shirt aside, freeing my lap before snagging her waist to tug her down onto me.

Hands squeezing her waist before curving closer to her, lips pressing to her nape.

"Tae's fine with it right?" I murmur.

Her body twists, leaning further into my side, pressing closer to me, fingers angling my jaw to her, nose nudging to mine.

Even years since we've been intimate, since we've had that dynamic between us, there's still been clear transparency in reading her body, her posture, her tells before she even says. If anything it's intensified, become stronger—the ability to read one another.

And there's love and trust and security in her eyes.

"He is. Because what we've shared Mimi—no-one will ever share. Because even if it wasn't a romantic happy ending for us two together, it's one of the strongest loves that not just anyone will ever get to experience."

And I know that if fate hadn't allowed us the happy endings we'd gotten with Tae and Joon, that if we hadn't found people to fall wholly and consumingly in love with—our own happy ending would've been more than enough regardless.

With each other, it was the sense of coming home, of finding comfort and solace in one another, in being one another's sanctuaries. With each other it wasn't the burning blazing heat of love and passion that made us drown in it—but it wasn't less than an explosion of light and love and warmth that seeps into the crevices of our bodies.

And with her curled into me, holding me with the same sweet tenderness we've always held for one another—I know that in entrusting herself to me, I've also readily already entrusted myself to her.

And though our personal globe of space, of people broadened slightly, they never stopped being tethered to each other's... they never stopped being one.

------------------------

"Should I feel threatened? I'm feeling threatened. What's all the pretty silks and jewels for?" Tae examines, eyes narrowing in scrutiny, lips thinning as he rakes his eyes down and then up again, an intense glint to his eyes.

Filling the space of the doorway, crowding it all of a sudden.

"Why? Because I'm prettier than you ever dared admit? Or because the bandit's been outdressed?" I lilt, patting his arm, eyes drifting in turn over the simplicity of his paint-stained shirt and apron, long unruly curls tied back, secured with a ribbon in a small bun, the rest brushing against his nape.

"...what's the prettying up for?"

"You didn't think I was going to make a baby with (Y/N) and not seduce her? She has to be so utterly taken by my wiles and my charms that it's already turning her on before I get my hands on her." I lilt, lips curving up at the narrowing of his eyes, fingers rubbing at the edge of his jaw, leaving a smear of red against skin.

Not realising it because he turns at the sound of footsteps, no longer blocking the doorway and both his and my eyes turn to settle on (Y/N).

Watching as she descends down the stairs with a glowing radiance, laughing when Tae makes a beeline for her, hand against his sternum.

"Getting paint on one of your favourite dresses?" his eyes drifting to his hands with a flash of realisation, content to let her cup his cheeks and draw him close for a lingering kiss, smiles curved against one another, her body briefly tilting to his.

"Good save." He murmurs, lips curving up when she presses a kiss to his lips, fingers skimming over the smear of red paint with a soft huff.

"Already getting dirty?"

"Even if I must without making you messy." He lilts with a playful insinuation, his eyes flashing as he meets my gaze over her shoulder. Head tilting to me.

"Looks like someone's all dressed up for the occasion to." Steering her by clasping her waist and turning her round, her eyes brightening when she sees me.

"Look at you~ you've outdone my sparkly bandit." She praises with a soft laugh, stepping forward to take me in, her hands flitting over me, light fluttering movements before she takes my hands to whirl me around, letting me encase her to me, her back to my chest as she hums with delight. Gaze bright and sparkling, rosy lips curving into a deep grin.

"That's what I was saying." Tae agrees, lips jutting into a pout though there's a fond tease in his eyes.

"I still have to impress~ all the more effort to charm and sway a Lady Kim into my bed."

"And what an effort." Tae huffs, tilting his jaw at me, faux protest curling his lips, though there's an approving appraisal, a curious glint in his eyes as he tilts his head at me, lips stretching into a boxy grin as if he senses the thrumming butterflies and sets them at ease with the disarming smile.

Watching as she steps closer to me, a bated breath before an unconscious tension, that I hadn't noticed until it's gone, bleeds out my posture.

"Go easy."

My brows rise, lips parting when he speaks again. A warm laugh laced into his low voice.

"I meant (Y/N)."

-------------------

Pleasure before had been an outlet for us, between us in a way that was healthy, safe and enjoyable. With each other we learnt what pleasure was actually meant to feel like, with each other we learnt and tested the limits of our bodies, of what made us crave and want and what made us keen and beg. We learnt and defined pleasure by our experiences with one another.

So seeing her now, seeing her after years in this lighting, with the same crackling anticipation and the same faint teasing grins—some things have changed but not the core of it all, not the way we can seamlessly read each other's bodies better than our own. Because pleasure is pleasure—and it's intensified by the people you share it with.

And (Y/N) is someone who's learnt my pleasure, as familiar to it as she is to herself, well-versed with one another.

An almost tiptoeing anticipation that we dance around, eyes flitting to me with curiosity.

"Where's Joon?"

"At the apothecary. He'll join us later... didn't want to overwhelm you." I murmur, fingers curling around the bottle of wine, gesturing it to her and in silence she tilts the rim of her empty glass to me, glossy lips curving.

"I'm not a stranger to double the pleasure—nor to being in bed with you two. I thought you two liked watching." She observes, the wine making her lips slick, her words honeyed and observing, curiously lilted as if the words don't send a flush of heat to simmer under my skin.

There might not be romantic love but there's never been a doubt of how physically attractive (Y/N) is, how much pleasure I'd found in her pleasure... how much I loved seeing her fall apart whether it was under my touch or Namjoon's.

"We do. But can you blame me for being selfish? And wanting you all to myself." Fingers absently skimming over the wide skirt of her dress, over the pattern.

I remembered her making it, remember the design simply because of the vivid rich jewel tone; akin to a stunning turquoise, a beautiful material that matched the gems glittering at her ears.

I can see why Tae loves it. The fit adorns her body so well, she knows what looks well on her, the off-shoulder draws my eyes to the expanse of her throat and collarbones, leaning in to press slow kisses against the slope of her shoulder, mapping up the crook of her throat and up the curve of her neck. Feel the soft flutter of her pulse spike slightly when my teeth slowly graze her pulse point, always particularly weak to kisses there, lips curving up with delight.

"Still so sensitive here?" I muse.

"Explains why Tae can't help mark your throat up." I add, feeling her body shiver, feel the tilt of her throat as she hums in response.

There's rarely ever the sight of her throat bare from jewels and scattered marks. It feels like the marks he leaves are possessive and reverent both.

"Do you mind if I leave marks?" I murmur, lips pressing softer kisses, briefly nuzzling against the crook of her throat, feeling the way her hand slips to curl against my nape, drawing me closer. Body crowding hers.

"Oh? Asking?"

"Maybe the only marks you like on your body are your husband's. I won't fault you for that."

"So you'd oppose to my marks on you and not just Joon's?"

"It'd be my pleasure to have your claim on me—even briefly, even if like this..."

"There's your answer too." A soft hushed murmur, an even softer exhale, the curve of her body arching up slightly to brush against my own, fingers skimming over the fabric of the shirt, tracing me without her fingers directly pressed to skin yet.

"Bed?" I murmur, drawing back, watching the way her hands curl tight against me, our bodies pressed close, my own curved to hers, looming to crowd against her, hands skimming down her side before resting at her waist.

"Bed." (Y/N) echoes, breath hitching when I straighten up only to tug her upright, bodies flush with one another, a fizzing anticipation and tenseness that makes my breath still. Eyes drawing her in, with a renewed, more thorough gaze.

And it might've been years but I'm more than ready and eager to relearn her all over again.

-----------------------

"No rush...there's no rush (Y/N)." hands slow and gentle against her. Easing away layer by layers, eyes drifting over with a slow burning intensity, hands skimming over the lines and curves of her body with an unrushed pace.

"It's been a while hasn't it?" she murmurs quietly, hands skimming down over my front, fingers looping into the ties that keep the shirt closed. A flash of familiarity that settles and stays at the gesture. Lips curving upwards into a smile, her eyes glittering with the same teasing heat that I feel coil slowly...slowly.

"It's been years but don't think for an instant I'll have forgotten how well I was able to make you unravel and exactly what makes you fall apart sweetheart."

Her gaze tilts with a proud, confident gleam in her eyes.

"You think years would let me forget either—about every single pleasure I've taken from your body?" a challenging thrum in her voice as she meets my gaze head-on.

The air is electric and sharp. Thickening with a growing anticipation.

Her fingers curl, tugging at the ties and lips curling at the way it makes my body stumble and tilt to hers, makes me crowd against her, faces hovering close, the sly slowness she unwinds the ties with, a slow exploration of the expanse of skin as it's bared more and more to her touch, to the trailing weight of her eyes drifting to commit me to memory.

It's the same but not.

Because years have changed our bodies, added to them.

"You've gotten even more muscles." She muses slowly, hands skimming down the front of my chest, fingers trailing featherlight even as her gaze sweeps over my arms and shoulders, her other hand drifting to curl against my arm, an experimental squeeze that makes my lips quirk when her eyes spark with an appreciative glint.

Leaning forward to press her lips against the line of my collarbone, the touch slow and lingering.

"Just like you've gotten curvier. Baby mama you're glowing. And you were already radiant before my love."

"Ever the charming one."

"I believe it was you who charmed your way into my pants first." I laugh, fingers smoothening down her front before snaking around to feel for the ties, ease and swiftness in letting the lacings of her dress be undone, but drawing the dress off is an infinitely slower, unrushed indulgence.

Slowly easing the flowing material of her dress down, lips pressing to skin as more and more of it's bared, mouth mapping out her body exploratively, feeling the heat of her body seep through the thin shift she wears underneath.

"Didn't seem to mind—if I've left such an impression." Voice coy and amused, breaths soft and light, fluttering where they ghost against skin, fingers mapping out my torso to her touch, her eyes flitting over ink, mouth parting as her gaze flashes.

"Can't wait to get my lips on all that pretty ink again." (Y/N) murmurs, voice dropping quieter, bated breath that shudders when I finally draw the slip off her, every movement painstakingly careful, eyes raking over her.

There's a moment when time just holds for the two of us. When the word stills—no longer drifting or in orbit, just still. Unmoving.

When my eyes are rooted to her.

Unable to tear my gaze away.

And with a slowness drinking in the sight of her, changed from the (Y/N) I knew years back.

I know and have seen her through her pregnancy, seen her through motherhood, seen her settle into it. I've seen her settle into her skin as a woman—having grown into adulthood together.

But it doesn't stop me from being rooted where I stand.

It doesn't stop the snare of her body snagging my eyes and holding them captive.

"Stars you're beautiful (Y/N). You're absolutely breath-taking."

She opens her lips to respond but my fingers reach out, crooking under her jaw, the motion angling her throat, the turquoise gems in her ears sparkling under the glow of the lanterns and she's radiant.

More radiant than I remember. More radiant than words can say.

My eyes trail over her, lingering onto the changes her body has settled with, skimming over faded silvery stretchmarks, over the curves of her breasts, hips and thighs.

Motherhood has made her iridescent.

And as I sink to my knees there's a soft wavery laugh and a gentler brush of fingers through my hair and the faint curiosity in her eyes, almost swallowed whole by the blaze of anticipation as my hands skim down her hips, thumbs rubbing circles into skin, trailing lower to map out the faded stretchmarks with my fingers, leaning into her where I kneel to press open-mouthed kisses against her stomach, mouthing at soft skin, mapping the faint lines on her body. Reverent of every mark, every change to her body since I'd last gotten to show how much I revered every line and curve of her, every inch of her body.

"You're stunning baby. Even more so than I remember, even more so with time, with being a mama."

The skimming touch of her fingers card through my hair, soft breaths shuddered as I let my lips skim over her curves, fingers squeezing at her hips, tugging her forward even as my touch drifts downwards.

Nudging her back against the edge of the bed until she sinks down, legs splaying in invite, eyes dark and heavy as I draw one leg over my shoulder, kneeling in the space between her thighs, pressing kisses upwards. Breath warm against her skin, feel the grip of her fingers tighten.

"You've always had a way with words. Pretty words from pretty lips."

"I don't think words were what you praised my mouth for. Nor was it words you wanted to hear from my mouth."

There's a flicker of both nostalgia and searing heated mischief before she tilts her leg, allows me to draw it up, hitched and angled for me, her free hand sinking into the sheets, splaying there.

"Going to put your pretty mouth to use then?" head tilted as she appraises me.

There's the familiar spark of heat and challenge and tease entangled in her eyes, the curve of her mouth inviting and beckoning.

There's the promise of pleasure and there's the promise of making me be consumed by it just as much as I intend to have her lost in pleasured, overwhelming bliss.

"Until you're begging for me to fill you instead."

-----------------------

The flush on (Y/N)'s cheeks, the hazed glittering bliss in her eyes draws me further into her, hips keeping their steady grinding rock to hers, hands clasping tighter at her hips, stilling the keening arch of her body, hair sprawled across the sheets.

"Please what sweetheart? What is it (Y/N)?" eyes dragging over the taut curves of her body, the way her eyes search for mine and her fingers scrabble from the sheets to grip at my wrist, clutching at me tightly.

Pace continuing its slow circling, deep, deep thrusts, a steady rhythm that's built with painstaking patience that in turn punishes and torments me too, feeling the exertion bead my skin with perspiration, feel it at my temples, feel it scorching my skin, groaning as I bury myself further into her, head dipping lower to brush my lips against her jaw, (Y/N)'s head tilting to press trembling lips to my own, tight and bruising. Fierce and aching, hands cradling me, tugging me close, mouth parting under mine, tongue sweeping with messy haste against my own. Kisses slick, the tether she clutches onto, fingers snaking into my hair to tug at me. Groan muffled against the swollen branding claim of her mouth.

"Harder." She murmurs against my lips, breath wavering as she writhes under me, peak after peak wrung from her body, pace slow and unrushed from the moment I let my hips rock to hers and my length sink into her, groaning against the crook of her neck and being entangled and intertwined in every way after years.

"This not enough for you baby?" I croon, lips brushing against hers again, chasing the trembling tell to them as she shakes her head, hands curled against my shoulders, clutching at me with a fierce ache, fingers leaving the indents of her nails, raking them down my back at a deep thrust that has her jolting and arching. Body jostled against the sheets, pinned down by the weight of my body that bears down with each thrust, with each roll of my hips driving myself deeper in her, aching to be buried further in her. Craving more and more closeness, craving to be lost in her, further and further.

"Give her more Jimin-ah. Why are you being mean?" Joon's voice suddenly lilts, a low drawl as he quietly slips into the room, his voice a pleasant surprise, a jolt of heat that morphs into a breathless grin against her mouth before I tilt my head, hearing the quiet steps, the skimming weight of his hand down my back before his fingers flit over my backside, a weighted press as he nudges me. The next thrust sharper and deeper, the angle making her cry out, eyes hazed as she turns to Namjoon.

A curl to her lips.

"Joon."

"Minnie being mean to you? I gave you two a few extra hours—who knew he was using that time to be slow with you?"

He murmurs, sinking down beside her, his hand cradling (Y/N)'s cheek, tilting her face to his, the usual softness of his eyes turned sharper, gaze focused. Intense.

It's not even directed towards me but I feel the heat under my skin grow hotter, pool in my gut as her hand reaches for him and he entangles their fingers to press a kiss to her hand, her hand tugging for him until he's close to her.

"Why not? Why rush when it's been years? When I want to thoroughly worship and wreck her so well?" I lilt, lips leaving scattered kisses against her skin, skimming lower from her collarbones down the curve of her breasts.

My eyes keep getting snagged to the sight of her body, lips softening, pressing tender kisses against skin.

"Why shouldn't I make her feel pleasure in every instant? When what we're making is our baby, what we're making is a gift—don't you deserve nothing but pleasured every single moment? Over and over?" but her body twists under mine, hand leaving raking stinging lines of heat down my skin, clutching at me with glossy eyes.

The curve to Joon's lips soften, leaning down to press a kiss against her temple, fingers smoothening hair from flushed, dewy skin. Lips trailing down slowly in a way that matches the slowness of this moment, an eternity encapsulated within us, within this space, within the three of us, drawing Joon into it too.

"He's got a point. It's been years since you've been in our bed—don't we deserve the time to relearn you again? Every moment is for you (Y/N)... won't you let me take my time too? In getting to pleasure you baby mama?" voice lower, huskier. The natural low timbre of Namjoon's voice is a rasping lilt. The slowly drawled question has her eyes fluttering, head tilted to him.

And even if she begs for it harder now—it's not until my body has learned hers again, it's not until I've had her like this.

With all the time in the world that encases the three of us in this bubble of space.

"Don't tag-team me now. I thought you'd be on my side Joon."

"Can't blame my Kim for wanting the same as me. I don't doubt Tae spends hours watching you fall apart on his tongue and fingers too. Can't fault me for finding you so unbearably attractive... let me be selfish with your release." The words a half-plea but she's nodding, hand tugging me closer, throat bobbing as she swallows, the keening sound of her cries unstifled as my teeth and tongue draw a pert bud between them, lathing them with attention. Only turning to the next once it's stiff and puffy with stimulation, until they're hard stiff peaks that drag against my own chest with every thrust as I curl to her, bodies fused together, groaning into her skin.

Finding that Joon's eyes have darkened with arousal, drawing her bottom lip from the captivity of her teeth as she moans.

"Don't we deserve to hear if Minnie's doing a good job?" hand skimming to rest against the low of her stomach, his eyes blazing with heat as he meets my gaze, a curved gentleness to his grin regardless, my lips surging forward to meet his, hear her whimpered keen as his grip splays and tightens the slightest, applying pressure at the low of her abdomen, as if chasing the feel of me buried in her under his palm. Her thighs trembling at the action.

"Doing good—doing so, so good." Words wavering, throat arched as I grip her hips, tugging her body to meet each thrust with a sharper slam, hips rutting into her, grinding deep circles into her before I draw back to bury back into her once more.

Fingers skim down to where the two of us are fused, slender fingers toying with the sensitive bundle of nerves, toying almost mercilessly as she writhes, Joon's skin glowing and body coiled tight.

Swallowing down the sob of broken harsh pleasure with the claiming force of his mouth, pleasure that splinters over her body as he drives her to a peak and me to mine, his fingers toying and tugging out a strong, consuming endlessness of pleasure. Each wave drawn out longer, ebbing away only to build into a stronger wave as I continue to thrust into her, drawing out the pleasure until we're both drowning in it. Until she sinks boneless against the sheets, oversensitivity making her legs jolt, making her body arch and twist with futile attempt to somehow not be consumed in it.

And it's not just my fingers that move to thumb at overwhelmed tears, it's two pairs of lips, against her cheeks, slowly against her lips, coaxing her down and cradling her between the two of us as we do.

It feels like in this space no time has passed yet everything's changed. Because this pleasure is free and unrestrained and gifted to one another.

And it's on the other side of our lives. Free and in love and cradling the only woman who'll matter to us.

Who offers the gift of a miracle for us to love and raise.

How could we be anything but entirely lost for her? And want anything less than to grant her pleasure beyond bounds?

-----------------------------

I swallow down every cry that's torn past her lips, arms trembling as she tries to hold herself upright, body jolted towards the sprawl of my own with every snap of Namjoon's hips driving himself further and further to her. There'd been urgency today. Urgency bleeding into haste, hands tugging at her, caging her against the door, fingers roving with an impatience that threatened to tear fabric before he was hitching (Y/N) up against the wall, lips bruising and demanding and hips setting a sharp, rough pace.

"What's gotten you so worked up Namjoon? That you just can't wait to put a baby in me." she goads, grin loose against the corner of my mouth, hands moving to grip at my thighs instead.

His lips press heated kisses against her nape, skimming down her back, body caging hers in, his body all harsh lines and tightly coiled strength that's at this moment entirely invested in driving himself deeper into her, hand tugging at her hips to draws her back.

So she's meeting each thrust for thrust.

My lips curl with a grin as her fingers flex and tighten their purchase on my thighs, my hand curled around my length, matching the pace of his thrusts with the grip I have, bucking and rolling my hips into the encircled hold of my palm.

"As if you don't love it. Tell me baby... tell me how much intense everything is--"

"He's big."

"Isn't he?" I lilt, eyes dragging over the way his body crowds hers, over how much broader the lines of his body have become, thick corded muscle filling him out even more.

And I take just as much pride in her words as Joon does, dimpled grooves as his lips curl, body stilling before he's easing himself out of her, hand smoothening down her back, her lips parting to protest when a sudden lurching motion has his hands clasping her to twist onto the sheets, so she's spread out over them and facing him, his kiss gentler, slower, soothing the blinding rush they'd been lost in, taking the time to pan his hands over her curves.

"Is it a thing? That as you age—the muscles come too. You, Mimi... Tae."

Her eyes dilate when Joon leans in to her, hips guiding themselves forward in a slow, drawn out thrust, slowly sheathing himself in her, groaning once he stills.

"Developed a taste for them?" voice coy and low.

A richer huskier timbre to the low rumble of his words.

"Maybe only on certain people--"

"Does Tae miss you? Miss having you like this?" I murmur, legs angled wider, gaze snared to the sight of the two of them. Drinking them in.

"Who said he needs to miss it? That he doesn't have me?" she lilts, head canted to the side, angled as she sinks against the sheets, lips curling with satisfaction at the low groan she tugs from Joon's lips as she rocks her hips in a slow circling grind, trying to elicit a reaction from him.

"He doesn't need to be in me to have me...besides there's plenty we can do~"

"Like what?"

"Wouldn't you like to know? Want some ideas?"

Joon huffs a laugh, the sound low and husky, body leaning downwards against hers, to press to her flushed body, curves against hard lines and breadth.

"When we already have you between the two of us? How are you impossibly more attractive than years ago?"

"It's the curves. Motherhood on (Y/N) is our damnation. Our undoing." though every word rings with sincerity, words dripping lower, a soft groan where my hand continues to work itself in a slow glide over my length.

Watch as her eyes glow, lips curving up in a trembling smile. Torn between tilting to me or surrendering to the onslaught of pleasure Joon brings her; stealing her attention away, her hands snaked around his shoulders, squeezing at him as she tilts her head in askance.

Kissing her isn't like kissing Joon.

It isn't the supernova of sparks and attraction so visceral it leaves my mind reeling.

Kissing her is hungering and wanting and fuelled by desperation, mouths slotting together with an ease that time might've tried to smoothen over, but our bodies never forgot. Being with her is weaving the same intoxicating thrall, the same trap the two of us set and willingly allow ourselves be captured in.

Kissing her is both nostalgic and new because this—this intimacy, this time we share is so wholly different to the times we have had together.

This time it isn't just about giving and receiving pleasure. This time it's with the overwhelming thought that we were trying for a baby.

And that changes everything.

-------------------------

When (Y/N)'s pregnancy is confirmed there's the dizzy feeling of the ground being torn from my feet. And a whole galaxy of stars reflected to me in the deep infinities of Joon's brown eyes; shining with tears and amazement and so much love that it winds around me and encases me tight, his arms winding tight around me, pressing me to his chest.

Words trembling, shaking.

"We're going to be parents Jimin-ah... we're going to be parents."

We stay like that, lost in the haze of it all, lost in the giddiness of it, lost with the disorienting fact that our dream, albeit with ups and downs, came to take root. Eyes sore and aching as I draw back from Joon's embrace, watching as (Y/N)'s eyes shine, curled against Tae as she looks at the two of us, her smile warm and tender.

And so, so happy for the two of us. Tilting her head to Tae, his fingers catching the tears that well up, voice a low murmur as he presses a kiss to her forehead, smile tender as he too turns to look at the two of us.

Feet stumbling, uncoordinated, as our embrace slowly disentangles only for me to surge forward for the two of them, their footing uneven, stumbling back with soft laughs before I throw my arms around their necks, drawing them to me in a tight, tight squeezing grip, lips peppering kisses across both their cheeks.

"Thank you... thank you... thank you... I love you both so much." Pressed to their cheeks over and over, not realising the stinging in my eyes have welled up anew before Tae's soft warm huff of a smile tugs at his lips and his voice low and soothing brushes against my skin.

"Jimin-ah... you're going to be an appa!" bolstering and proud and eyes sparked with warmth. Fingers gently brushing against my cheek before (Y/N) can even worm back to cradle me closer, tucked against my chest, Tae adjusting slightly so she's sandwiched between the two of us.

His enthusiasm is infectious and giddy and spills out from bright sparkling eyes and the cadence of his baritone is sweet, sweet.

"Taeseungie's already my baby." I protest with a sniffle, head tilting forward to nudge against his cheek.

"You know exactly what I mean! I want appa privileges too!" he claims in that very instant, his arm wound around her waist, snared around her front, head against her shoulder.

"And now we have two babies! Two—one family." (Y/N) smiles.

And the glow of her joy and love, the overlapping of both her loves that makes the galaxies in Joon's eyes, the thrumming erratic pulse of my heartbeat as I find that in his gaze, I'm reflected and encased in them.

It's because of the two people in front of me that we can dream of adding a someone who'll help our family grow, help our dreams be actualised. It's because of (Y/N), the love I shared and grew with, that we as a family of four, can help our love grow further. With the baby (Y/N)'s pregnant with.

"One family. Three appas. One mama. Four uncles. One big brother."

And just like that our family grows.

---------------------------

If Tae was constantly pressed to (Y/N)'s side throughout her first pregnancy, it's something entirely different when she has three people consistently in orbit of her presence, at least one always constantly flitting to her side.

Rather than that—three grown men and little Tete, who's fascinated by watching his mama slowly settle into the first trimester than the next. And with it bringing a small undistinguishable baby bump that's largely hidden away. That if any other day anyone would've visited, it'd been me curled up, hand or cheek pressed against her baby bump. But either the habit's rubbed off onto Tete by me or by Tae or Joon or Kookie or all of the others—but he's taken to pressing a squishy cheek to her bump, absently patting her lap, her stomach all the whilst she cards her fingers through curls, sometimes both sides of her lap occupied by appa, and son and her fingers wound into silky dark unruly hair.

And that's where I find Tete curled against (Y/N)'s lap, pat, pat, patting his mama's tum, quiet mumbles as he speaks to her rounded curve.

"When baby come out of mama's tummy we'll play lots n lotses!" voice bright with cheer and eagerness, a small plush toy tucked into the crook of his arm, cradled to him.

My eyes flit to (Y/N), see her easy smile, grinning as she sees the flash of recognition in my eyes.

"He still has that?"

"Why would he get rid of it? We made it for him—our first toy... his first toy. I still have his baby blankets and quilts and all his teeny clothes too. You really spoiled him."

"You did too!" I laugh, tugging off my coat as I move behind her, lips pressing a kiss to her hair before flitting over towards where Tae's sitting cross-legged on the carpet, careful to not nudge the fluid movement of his hand though it stills as he tilts his head in boxy greeting.

"Hi Jimin-ah."

Accepting the weight of my body as I sprawl against his back, settling down behind him to peer over his shoulder, accepting the invite of his arms lifting to wrap my limbs around him.

"Not going to swipe baby mama?"

"Swiping is very... bandity." I muse, peering at the sketch he's working on, the lines of the drawing soft, soft and that in itself captures the soft warmth of the sight before our eyes, the glow she radiates and the utter ease she's in, settled contentedly with cushions around her and Tete half reclined on her lap, grinning boxy at her when she murmurs his name, hands catching hers between his before she can continue to gently run her fingers through his curls.

"And that is very charming." He points out, catching the moment when he draws her hand to his lips to press eager mwahs against her palm, her knuckles, fiddling and playing with the ring on her finger before he peers up at her with shining, bright, bright eyes.

"Where'd you think he learnt it from if not you bandit?" I laugh, watching with curiosity as he continues to play with the ring before staring up with a smitten, squishy smile. All cheeks and boxy beaming smile.

"He's my son through and through isn't he?" Tae muses. My hands squeeze where they entangle around his front, hugging and holding him from behind.

"Without a doubt yours. Without a doubt just as taken with (Y/N)... look." I nudge.

Watching as he straightens up, curling against (Y/N)'s side instead. Peering up.

"I want to give mama pretty sparkly too."

Her lips curl as she tilts her face down, offering her cheek to him, giggles against her skin as she playfully squirms, hands snagging him suddenly to scoop him up.

It doesn't matter that he's four years old now—he fits in her arms, on her lap and though he's eager she plops him down on her lap, his eyes flitting mindfully to the bump, patting again, rubbing.

"But you're my pretty sparkly little gem. My prettiest sparkliest sparkly."

"Is that not me anymore?" Tae teases, fingers continuing to sketch out lines that further soften the image of mama, son and baby, eyes flickering upwards to drift back to them, to recommit to memory the sight of his family all over again.

"Look how pretty my little gem is and try say otherwise." She challenges, her eyes watching the two of us, her fingers guided back to his hair with an eager tilt, my laugh bubbling out.

So entirely Tae.

"M appa's sparkly too?" soft wide eyes curious and imploring.

As if Tae would dare disagree.

"Mama and Tete both my sparklies. My jewel and my gem."

"And me?"

"You're..." he hums thoughtfully before answering.

A teasing grin on his lips.

"You're like that pink squishy rice cake the bakery's new apprentice makes."

His head tilts to take in my reaction, grinning wide at me as I stare at him.

"....mochi?" I hesitate at the same time as Tete yells it.

"Mochi! Squishy squishy!"

"That's the one~ I like the strawberry ones most." Fondness as his eyes are dragged back, without conscious awareness, to his son.

"Should I be flattered?"

"The pink ones are our favourite~ can't really fault Seungie for trying to take a bite every time he sees you."

I lean further into him, winding the grip of my arms and legs tighter around his torso, not unlike how I've found him and Tete both clinging to (Y/N) in sleep, gently tweaking an errant curl.

"I guess it's okay being called squishy then."

"Mochi!"

It's more than okay.

­------------------------

"What're you painting Seungie?" Joon asks, carefully easing down onto the floor, clutching a book as he peers curiously at Tae and Tete.

"Mama and Mimi!" a proud, loud exclamation as Tete wobbles on his tiny stool, plopped down next to Tae, insistent on having a small matching stool to his appa's, brows scrunched and furrowed with the utmost concentration, clutching at his paintbrush tightly, bold sprawls of paint over the taut canvas that Tae's set down on a smaller easel and canvas for him. Utterly distracted by Tete painting that he's long since abandoned his barely touched canvas, body tilted to watch him, eyes shining with pride and giddiness.

My hands remain curled loosely around (Y/N), her head settled on my lap, a hand curved over the near full-rounded curve of her stomach, time slipping away, quicksand between my fingers but all the same as if simultaneously wading through treacle with how impatiently the two of us wait and want and yearn.

She rubs at her stomach absently, readjusting herself, my hand easing a cushion at the low of her back, supporting the ache in her hips, eyes drifting to peer at me.

" okay?"

"Just admiring you."

Her smile curls deeper.

"Charmer."

"With someone so beautiful on my lap can you blame me?"

Her laugh is loud and bright—snags Tae and Tete's attention, double boxy smiles before a sweeping bold flourish of his paintbrush, Taeseungie trying to capture her smile if the curved stroke of the brush is an indicator.

"Is that how you charm Joonie too?"

My grin widens, leaning downwards briefly to whisper to her.

"Oh, sweetheart I have means and methods to charm and seduce." I lilt, watching her eyes spark with amusement and knowledge.

"Brushing up on your skills? Lest they get rusty?" she teases.

"Keeping my skills polished and honed... though I don't doubt you know all too well—how low do those marks go sweetheart?" gazes briefly flitting to Tae, watching as he senses our focus on him, turning his gaze from Seungie's painting, splotches of paint staining his hands, grin wide and bright even if his head tilts in slight curiousity. The reds scattering his collarbone and lower, hidden but barely so—immediately distinguishable at first glance.

Her smile is wicked and saccharine.

"Low enough."

[......]

"Mama pretty!" Taeseungie enthuses as he clambers onto the couch, hands still damp, drying them impatiently on his trousers before he peers at her with shining eyes, his painting angled carefully by Tae so she can look at it. The bold vibrant explosion of colours and somewhere in them, a bright, bright smile and sparkling blotches of colour that match her jewels and dress.

"Where am I?" I ask.

"Mimi pink!" he points out with a finger, eyes looking to the two of us for our verdicts, my eyes catching to the stick figures drawn in charcoal and slightly—but not quite lost underneath the paint, underneath bold sweeping flourishes as he painted.

The paint's still wet and the smell of turpentine still in the air.

"It's beautiful Tete... going to put it up when it dries?" she asks, leaning to press a kiss to his forehead, immediately indulging his clamour for kisses across his cheeks to, reciprocating with giddiness as he tucks himself to his mama.

An eager nod.

There's an overwhelming sense of pride and love in Tae's eyes as he sets the canvas down carefully, ecstatic at his son's painting, at the way curiosity had paved the way to demanding to paint alongside him, to sharing the small mannerisms with him, to this. Bit by bit Taeseungie grows and bit by bit he becomes more and more like Tae, he grows into his own too and he's every bit their son, living loved and protected and cherished.

A stark contrast to his own upbringing. And all the more perfect. He grows up loved and surrounded by love. Like every child should be. Like Taeseungie is. Like our baby will be too.

----------------------

Steadily...steadily the house adjusting, reflecting the various stages of disarray and chaos; organised and not, as we prepare for our baby.

The rest of the family come in sweeping waves, bringing both carnage and life; vibrant and unrestrained and wild. And in that storm of chaos, Yoongi's the current centre of calm, keeping everyone centred, meticulous and level-headed and unanimously appointed head DIY expert.

Yoongi is the calming balm to flaring emotions and distress and panic, he's calming without even trying, unconsciously soothing frets and worries, silently working without a frazzled panic.

And it's during this pregnancy that I realise—Jungkook and Yoongi have silently snuck their way into being uncle favourites for Taeseungie and our soon to be born baby.

They're effortlessly balanced and a strong duo.

There's a frown twisting Jin's lips, brows raised as he tilts his head, jaw clenched with challenge when it slips out mindlessly.

"I'm the best uncle what does that even mean?"

"I just—" I flounder under his stare, the challenge in them.

"That I'm more fun." Kook laughs, words purposely provoking and instigating, eyes shining with mischief, ducking away from the swat, the blankets tossed in his direction and fluttering to the ground. The mound of sheets and bedding a veritable mountain of colours and patterns—dithering for choice.

"I'm fun! Ask Taeseungie!" he protests, eyes drifting around the room, trying to search for his errant nephew before he grins when the mound of sheets wriggle, shuffle about slightly.

Tiptoeing forward to surge to grab him out of the sheets, loud pitched squealed giggles ringing in the air as Jin whirls around with him.

It's endearing to see that even after years Seungie still kicks and wriggles with excitement, that when he laughs his cheeks are quick to flush and the boxy shape of his lips stretch wide.

"Uncle Jinnie nooooooo!" a laughing squirming protest, his plan foiled, some sheets dragged up in scooping him up.

"Were you trying to hide?"

A guilty, caught-out look that lingers for a while before it melts into a deceiving, sweet, sweet grin.

"No!... yes." Correcting his small fib immediately, looking chastised without even being told off—self-correcting. It makes Jin beam with pride, playfully ruffling his curls.

But a into his words, teasing and mischievous as he prompts Seungie.

"Why were you hiding?"

Betrayingly his eyes dart to Hobi for a few moments before drifting back to Jin, gaze flitting between the two.

"Boo!" he suddenly yells in lieu of answer, his jolting with the sudden force of his yell, hands raised as he rears forward with his hands raised, curled slightly to imitate a monster popping out.

And even though Jin's holding him, it still makes him jolt, still makes him startle briefly before Kook's laughing with pure delight and pride and Hobi's lips curl into an easy grin.

"Why did you betray Seungie like that?" Yoongi sighs, shaking his head, laughing when Hobi's gaze flits to him questioningly, gaze narrowing searchingly.

"You knew."

An easy shrug, dismissive and unrepentant.

If anything, he's proud if the glint in his eyes is any indication.

"Of everyone you two scare the easiest—why would I ruin Seungie's plans?"

"That's why Kookie and Yoongi are playing for the best uncles role." Tae muses from behind suddenly, laughing as the flit to him, peering past the doorway before he enters, carefully gauging the space he tentatively steps through to.

"Because he knew Tete was hiding?"

"Because he let it play out—gotta let a kid learn how to hide and sneak up properly—why do you think he loves hide and seek so much?"

"Appa!" A delighted yell, both the prospect of hide and seek and Tae both makes his face brighten up even more, scrabbling eagerly out of Jin's scooped hold to go barrelling forward, hands hugging Tae from around the knees, peering upwards with shiny eyes.

Peeking past him, around him.

"Where mama?"

Tae crouches so he's eye level with him, hands drawing him into the cradle of his body, the space between his legs as he draws Taeseungie to him, gently tweaking a curl.

"Mama's sleeping. Baby tired her out."

A small scrunched frown on soft squishy cheeks. Pouting.

"Baby playing?"

He nods.

"Lots and lots—mama needs to rest cos baby playing so much."

"Why baby not playing with meeee?"

" in mama's tummy remember?" a small eager nod.

"So, until baby comes out—you can play with all of us!"

"I want to be in mama's tummy too!"

"You were already in mama's tummy. And when baby comes you can play with them too!"

"And mama!"

"And mama." Tae acquiesces with a grin.

"And appa!" Seungie bargains.

"And appa." pressing a quick kiss to a soft cheek.

And then...

"...I go huggy mama?" wide eyes soft and imploring, looking eagerly to Tae.

Laughing when he's scooped up and Tae breaks into a quick dash from the room, retreating from the chaos still surrounding us.

"Quick ! Before they try steal mama hugs!" words clear even as he hurries, the sound of his footsteps tugging a smiled laugh.

Gaze drifting to the pile of sheets, musing as I continue to contemplate which one to go with.

"How about a patterned one?"

-------------------------

"Won't you let me and Joon take care of you sweetheart?" I murmur, hand curled around her waist, helping her ease down onto the couch, hands already easing a cushion and then another behind her back, helping to alleviate the pressure at the low of her back.

"You already do Mimi..." she murmurs, voice soft and gaze fond, a smile playing on her lips as she rubs a hand over her stomach, settled over her baby bump with a fondness and resignation as she watches Tae carefully ease her legs onto his lap, hands careful and gentle as he eases off her stockings to slowly massage gently at swollen ankles, a soft hissed sound before her head tilts back with a groan of pleasure at the relief, deep boxy smile at knowing exactly how to make her relax, at seeing her eyes flutter.

"Let me take care of you baby mama... I don't think I'll ever have enough words, enough time to thank you for what you're doing for us. And besides– you're acting as if we didn't do the same when you were expecting Taeseungie." sinking down beside her, head curling against my shoulder, my hand settling over her stomach, a fluttering giddiness that's all too new and different to when she was first expecting.

Then it had been new and uncharted and foreign and thrilling to be there every step of her pregnancy but the knowledge that our baby... that my baby is under the curve of her stomach makes my heart flutter. I thought it was impossible to love her more than I already did, to love her more than loving her with my whole being and loving every inch and fibre of her.

But somehow I love her more. I love her wholly and more than an entirety, an infinity can capture.

"You deserve a baby of your own, a baby to call yours..." she murmurs, eyes fluttering and lips curving when my hand skims over her stomach before rubbing at the curve, unable to stop the giddiness that makes my lips stretch up when there's a nudge against my palm.

"Baby kicked!" the words making her eyes blink open, appraising me instead before she gives a little squirm to her legs and reaches for Tae, his hand clasping hers as he straightens up, kneeling beside her, her hand guiding him to where mine rests. Feeling the soft nudge against his palm before his gaze drifts, peering for where Joon is, eager to share the experience with him too.

She watches our hands both settled on her stomach to feel the soft kicks and nudges against them, her eyes bright with pride and love as she looks at the two of us.

"Ours. Because you'll still be the mama, that'll never change. How could we deny the gift you're giving us the chance to know the most beautiful treasure I've ever known and cherished?" I murmur, a finality in my voice, an unwavering certainty that the baby is ours as much as it is hers. Our baby will never not know their mama nor the circumstances that brought them here, nor that they'll have more than two parents.

Our baby will never not be (Y/N) and Tae's.

Because blood isn't the only thing that determines family and parentage. Because family isn't confined to a specific shape or ideal of how it should look and how many people consist of a family.

A family isn't just parents and a baby.

"Really?" voice soft.

"Without a doubt. How could we ever keep our baby from their mama? How can we keep Taeseungie's little brother or sister from him? This baby is just as much yours and Tae's sweetheart." I murmur quietly, Tae's other hand coming up to cradle her cheek, thumbing at her cheekbone, skimming over the softness of her cheek.

"This baby is of two families." I echo, pressing my lips to the soft curve of her jaw, her hand tugging at Tae until he's clambering up and leaning inwards, shuffling to tug him down beside her so she's sandwiched between the two of us. Tugging at him insistently until he tilts his head to hers, lips brushing against hers with a soft tenderness that only makes warmth pool under my skin, smiling as he cradles her face to his, kissing her slow and sweet and deep, her fingers brushing against curls.

Always, always riveted by his curls, fingers always impatient to sink in and tug.

"Space for one more?" Joon asks as he approaches with a tray, dimpled grin when he sees Tae lean back reluctantly, thumbing at her bottom lip, slightly reddened but not swollen.

"Always." I laugh, patting my legs in invite, watching his grin deepen as he sets the tray down, carefully making sure both (Y/N) and Tae have a steady hold on their cups before he eases down, our bodies an entangled mess of limbs that requires a lot more manoeuvring and shuffling, hands tugging at me with a ringing laugh before we finally end up comfortable. Legs sprawled over his lap and his hand replacing where mine had been, soft brown eyes shining as he brushes his hand over her stomach.

It's a habit... unconsciously to have a hand settled on her baby bump, even long before she'd started showing. From the moment the pregnancy had been confirmed, from the moment Joon had confirmed, tears spilling over and voice hoarse as he'd confirmed in a breathless shaky voice... that (Y/N) was expecting. That she was pregnant with our child.

"You'll be pros at parenting. You're getting to do it the second time over really– with how much you've helped raise Taeseungie."

"Where is my teeny Tae?" she asks, head turning to Tae at his words, her smile bright and in agreement with his words.

"With Yoongi. Or was it Hobi?" he muses, laughing when she swats at his chest, alarm flashing across her face.

"How do you not know where our son is?" expression indignant, another swat to his chest, eyes flashing dangerously.

Hand catching hers and drawing it to his lips to brush a kiss over her knuckles, rubbing a thumb over skin, soothing her even as he grins breathlessly at her.

"I'm joking...joking. He's with neither." face monotonous and straight-faced for a few moments before he bursts into laughter at her scolding yell of Kim Taehyung, where is my son?

"He's with Jinnie. Probably making a mess of his special bathing room again and trying to soak his clothes through again." I soothe, watching as Tae's lips curve wide as he tilts his head back, hand snagged hers, their fingers entangling and intertwined hands coming to settle on his lap.

"I didn't think Jinnie liked making a mess in his big, big tub until I saw him splash it all over the floor just to make Tete giggle." lips curving up, watching as Tae's smile goes boxy at her words, proud and preening and just as dotingly in love too.

The absence that Jin had had in Tae's life growing up, the absence he'd had because of compulsion and a father who never let his two sons grow together under the same roof– because Taeseungie is an exact likeness, because he's Tae entirely... I know for Jin, it's that chance he never had to do right by his brother... he now does to his nephew.

He raises and cherishes and loves his nephew with the entirety of his being and with every bit of love I know, (Y/N) knows, Tae knows that he wanted to exist between him and Tae growing up.

And now for him in some way it's the chance to do right to his nephew, to his baby brother's baby and watch Taeseungie grow up and not miss a single minute of it.

"Tete makes Jin young again." (Y/N) muses.

"That and Jin's always been immortally young– I'm telling you there's oils and balms he uses he won't share. He's holding out on us!" I protest, laugh bubbling out even if the genuineness to my words certainly could ring true.

"It's actually that and post-sex glow too, Hobi's been telling me that they've been getting more–"

Eyes crinkled as her head tilts back, laughter muffled against Tae's palm that clamps over her mouth, stifling the words before I can hear what the two have been up to, shooting Tae a disgruntled look, Joon's grin deepening, having leant forward despite himself.

"How many times– I don't need to know the sordid details... you need to stop!" voice accusatory and ringing with indignation.

"Shhh— don't hush my baby mama to be... tell me... Hobi and Jin drop by here much more often." I scold, tugging his hand from her mouth, gripping it tightly in case he tries to silence her again, his eyes narrowed with warning, lips twisted into a scowl.

"So what Hobi said they've started doing is they're particularly fond of the–" purposely trailing off, eyes flickering to the side to gauge Tae's reaction before she lets the words hang suspended.

Patting his leg consolingly even as she looks at me.

"I'll tell you later. He complains about this a lot–"

"You did this all the time when we were expecting Tete..." he suddenly jolts, finger pointed accusingly at her, lips parting as he tries to piece together that alongside cravings, the need to share gossip seemed to click for him too

"Teasing you isn't a pregnancy mood-swing Tae. That's a (Y/N) thing. That's a wife thing." Joon says, sticking up for (Y/N), smile all dimply sweet when she puckers her lips to blow him a kiss the short distance from one another, my head turning to quickly peck his lips to pass it on.

"Hear what the doc says Lord Kim~ it's my right as lady of the household, as the one that keeps your sheets warm and as mother to the sweetest son... it's a me thing." eyes sparking with mischief, her words entangled with soft affection and playful fiery heat.

There's a glittering sense of both proud acknowledgement of her words and a resigned lilt to his mouth before he draws her hand to his lips to brush a kiss across her knuckles.

"Whatever you say little jewel."

------------------

The biggest fear I'd had of even considering saying yes to (Y/N)'s offer was that saying yes would drive a rift or divide between her family, between her and Tae, that even though (Y/N) and I had known and loved one another for most of our lives that it'd be odd because despite that... Tae was married to (Y/N). Because the two were so irrevocably in love that the thought of becoming a reason for a rift, for ruining what they had...the thought was enough to make me physically sick. The thought was enough to well up in swarming waves of panic and despair because I could never ever say yes to something that'd hurt two of the most important people in my life.

But seeing the joy in Tae's arms as he slow dances with (Y/N), seeing the way his ryes shine with tenderness as the two sway together, lost in their own world, lost to the music that fills their drawing room, lost in one another...it reminds me, it soothes me that this pregnancy has made them stronger. The level of trust, openness and communication needed, the level of intimacy that goes beyond the unspoken... they have that. And this pregnancy seems to make the two of them glow and shine without the same level of fretting nerves the first time round. Because they were getting to fall in love more and more and cherish this time together... even if the baby wasn't theirs... it still was. But they were comfortable and happy and overjoyed to be part of the journey of me and Joon getting to experience what they have. To have our miracle, our baby to fill our lives even more vividly.

Taeseungie sways around with Hobi, laughing as Hobi sways around in exaggerated waddles, Taeseungie's feet planted on Hobi's, hands clasping bigger ones and giggling as Hobi twirls him about. Albeit more eagerly and more fumbly than Tae and (Y/N)'s movements. Giggles interspersing with the music, tugging the in bliss couple out of their lost smitten haze to turn fond, fond gazes to their son, to Tae's mini replica.

"Oof! Be gentle on my toes Tae!" Hobi laughs, swaying along with the music, watching as a mini but blinding boxy grin stretches his full cheekies wider as he laughs alongside his uncle.

"Care for a dance my Lord Park?"

"You'd entertain me with one Lord Kim... oh I see why it turns (Y/N) on." I realise with a laugh, the sound stuck in my lips when his eyes flash, hands snagging me and tugging me bodily to him.

"Oh it's a turn on for me too." He confirms with a dimpled grin, leaning forward to press a kiss to my curved grinning mouth. Soft fluttering pecks that linger longer and longer, hands squeezing at my waist, our bodies gravitated to one another.

The same pretty lips brushing to mine with a tenderness, drawing me into his arms.
The fumbled uncertainty that'd first endeared me, that had been in his movements years and years ago have settled. Still uncertain and sweetly clumsy at times but more settled in his movements. Confidently assured in his skin too.

Namjoon was a man when I met him, but somehow he's even more so now. He's grown further into himself and I'm impossibly more in love with him. I only get the chance to press a kiss to his lips before Seungie yells it. Broadcasts it.

"Uncle Seokie kissy twirly me too!" a bright giddy demand that Hobi all too well complies with, delighted to scoop him up and whirl him around, eliciting bright loud laughs.

And it's to flushed cheeks and breathless giggles that becomes the audience, eyes sparkling as he watches Joon sway with me, our bodies entirely out of rhythm with the music, lost to a dimpled smile and soft brown eyes. Lost in the way his body slots to mine and cradles me to him.

It's to the same music that a while later Seungie watches his parents dance to, laughing and talking, bodies moving in time to the music, the curve of her baby bump nestled safely between their bodies until he scrabbles off Hobi's laugh to snag (Y/N)'s hand and try twirl her only to be twirled himself. It's there that he watches the movement of Tae's feet, tries to imitate them, sidestepping alongside. It's to the same music that I watch as he abandons the attempts to weave in, out and around her their legs, settling to hold onto (Y/N)'s skirts, humming nursery rhymes and smoothening his hand down over the pattern of her skirt, trying to see if he can be caught up in them if she twirls.

It's to the same music that the day ends, with the three of them entangled with one another, and with the warmth of the day lingering in my bones. Seeping into skin to settle there.

It's that music that becomes a favourite.

------------------------

When (Y/N) goes into labour, we're already there. A muffled cry as (Y/N) stills in the doorway, body stiffening where she was moving to enter the house, my body rushing forward at the sound. Protectiveness for both of them flaring to the surface, anxious and alert, hands steadying her when she tries to straighten but her body sways.

It's a split-second difference between the time it takes for me to steady her and Tae and Joon's gazes snap to attention, stumbling to their feet. Tae there, holding her as he rubs her back, voice low.

"Baby what is it?" I ask, voice soft, thumbing gently at her cheek, curved close to her, body unconsciously flanking her, shielding her, hands flitting to steady her, carefully ease her forward one stumbling step then the next.

But it becomes immediately apparent when she grimaces, pain twisting her features as she takes a hesitant step forward.

"I think baby's ready to come out." Voice quiet and wavery, then slightly louder as she repeats it, a loose smile on her lips despite the pain that lingers in her gaze.

The floor under my feet seems to tilt, rocky and uneven.

"What?" Joon asks, voice startled, Taeseungie peeking past his legs, having trailed behind the two.

"Baby?" excited eagerness as he rushes forward, lips wobbling when Tae carefully eases him back slightly, a gentle murmur to be careful but (Y/N)'s quick to hold her hand out to him, squeezing lightly.

"Baby's on the way." And even if her breathing is slightly shallow and wavers, her eyes sparkle with affection when he carefully eases himself forward to curl against her side, pressing a soft kiss to her stomach.

A soft rub before he peers at her stomach.

And yet the gesture does nothing to still the swirling panic that makes my stomach churn or the violent way my heartbeat accelerates, thudding loud against my ribs and ringing in my ears.

Our baby's on the way.

-------------------------

It's weird how natural it feels for our lives to get even more meshed together. Long since taken over the large guestroom downstairs unofficially, the space scattered with our belongings, with touches that distinctly makes it feels ours. A haven. A home within a home.

It's there that (Y/N) tends to feed Mei, it's there that she spends time nursing her and coaxing her to sleep. It's there that Joon and I sleep for the first few months without even entertaining the possibility of trekking back and forth...both when (Y/N)'s still recovering from childbirth and Mei needs her and there's no way we'd be parted from our daughter in the very beginnings of her life.

When Mei is born...when Jin announces it's a girl, hands cradling her steadily as Joon slumps back, all strings cut, all strength gone, just stunned and still...it's Jin who carefully wraps her up and places her on (Y/N)'s chest, skin to skin as her fitful cries tear through the room and her heartbeat chases and settles with the erratic thrum of her mother's. When Mei is born... (Y/N) soothes her, hands shaking but eyes burning strong as she holds her out to us, gifting us our daughter, sinking back readily into the steadying cradle of Tae's body. When Mei is born I cry ugly, harsh tears that are wrenched from the very depths of my soul, gratitude and awe and so much love spilling over and splashing angrily against my cheeks. When Mei is born, she's not the only one who cries, our family of three curled together, not a single eye dry, not a single heartbeat settled. When Mei os born and my eyes are sore and aching, I meet (Y/N)'s eyes and feel my heart ache with how much love I feel for her. For the unspoken understanding as we hold each other's gaze and her smile curls tiredly, letting Tae guide her against the sheets, body slumped and exhausted as Jin moves around her, Yoongi silently flitting about to fill the space as Joon's eyes remain riveted on the small, small bundle I cradle with every delicateness wound into an unshakeable strength. When Mei is born, (Y/N) sinks back and smiles with a warmth that seeps into my skin and makes it buzz.

"Congratulations appas. It's a girl." Echoing Jin with a breathless grin that seizes my breath in my lungs. Eyes glowing with pride for me.

When Mei is born I don't know how but I feel the moment my heart readily surrenders to the tiny fluttering pulse and soft indecipherable near silent movement of tiny lips and the tiny peek of her eyes past eyelids she tries to blink open. When Mei is born my soul feels whole in a way I can't even explain or describe... lost to the small scrunching blinks as she tries to open her eyes, a soft quiet cry that's soothed immediately and curious eyes blink to stare at us for the first time.

When Mei's born it's to an unconventional family that'll already love her wholly.

Mei like the spring season she's born in. Mei is a word Joon discovers in old scriptures and texts—picking up on it, the word coming to my mind when I see our baby daughter. And seeing the joy reflected back at me in Joon's gaze, the fierce, tender kiss he presses to my lips, breathless with giddiness and happiness.

Mei. Beautiful. Our beautiful baby girl.

And her name just comes easily. It's perfect. She's perfect. And she's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. She's the most beautiful moment in our life that the moment she's carefully eased into our arms, I fall in love instantly. Wholly. And irreversibly.

It's in those first months that it seems to be an adjustment to even if briefly merge our lives together, the transition seamless with how intertwined our lives already have been. The only adjustment is to their cottage that doesn't just house us as new parents but every single one of the others. A family coming to settle. A family coming together to help each other, to help ease that transition from childbirth to recovering mother to getting back onto her feet. If Jin had been entirely by her side during that critical phase the first time...if anything he's doubly attentive. And in Joon's stead, Yoongi substitutes in, learning from Joon and quickly slotting himself in to ease the process for us so Joon can settle and grasp the newly forming tethers or parenthood too. And together they take care of (Y/N), even if I can't bring myself to be torn from her side, her orbit, it's family that bands together to help. It's Tae who in this phase shines in his element as a father and husband, it's then that I truly come to still, compelled to stillness when I see how easily he manages to ensure his family is settled and happy. How much he takes to helping Seungie particularly during post-birth, how much he loves (Y/N), though the guestroom is adjacent to ours, though their room is upstairs he relocates to stay to tend to his wife. There to ease back when Joon and I cradle Mei, there sinking down next to his wife, his love, his jewel, there to help ease that transition for us as new fathers.

In the past years the bond I have with Tae has been forged into something strong and unwavering and steady. If anything it strengthens further, and he helps shoulder the fears that both Namjoon and I have that he knows all too well as a father.

"What if I drop her? Or hold her too tight? What if she cries because she doesn't like me?" Joon frets, gaze flashing to Tae for comfort and solace, though his hands cradle our swaddled daughter even more protectively... a gentleness and carefulness that's naturally settled.

Tae's smile is warm, his eyes encouraging.

"She'll be the first to let you know." He promises, carefully easing back a step then another, shaking his head when Joon shoots him an alarmed look.

"Even if you're new to being a parent... Mei knows and trusts you already. She was born to you...you're already her safety net, her protection, her parents. There's nowhere else she'd possibly be safer or happier."

"How can you be so sure?" My hands brush against Joon's arms, peering past his shoulder, watching as she gurgles, giving small wriggling kicks where she's tucked, peering up at Joon with a quietness, a small wobble to her lips before she tries to mimic Joon's smile and wide eyes. The sight brings a laugh bubbling past my lips, and it tugs her focus to me, eyes creasing and lips parting in a wider silent imitation. An eager wiggle.

"That's how."

--------------------------

There's the sound of rushing footsteps, almost slipping in eager haste that has (Y/N) straightening up with a bright smile, fingers working on doing up the front of her dress, Mei eased gently into my arms. And the rush of footsteps grow louder, followed by a heavier tread and a ringing laugh, voice warm but gently chiding.

"Kim Taeseung, you let your mama rest!"

At the same time as he barrels into the room.

"Mama! M here~" a bright greeting as he rushes towards the bed, laughing as he ducks away from Tae's playful swipe to try catch him, watching as he clutches the edges of the blankets, using them to tug himself upright, to clamber onto the bed, crawling, shuffling forward to tuck himself immediately against (Y/N)'s side, diving with eagerness as she extends an arm out for him.

Snuggling against her side, tucking himself close to her.

"Hi my baby gem." Fingers drawing the lopsided ribbon from his hair, the attempt to keep his curls somewhat from his face as he played lost.

He barely gets to receive a kiss to his cheek before he's scooped and plopped onto Tae's lap as he sinks down beside (Y/N), tugging Seungie onto his lap. Head tilting to press a lingering kiss against the welcoming curve of her mouth. Kiss disrupted by the curious shuffles and wriggles until he's on the edge of Tae's lap and peering over with shiny eyed curiosity towards the bundled swaddle in my arms. Lips parting into a tiny o of surprise.

But he remains curled up contentedly sandwiched between his parents, eagerly sharing that Yoongi had given him sweets, his lips and cheeks sticky as he presses kisses to her cheek, head whirling to press a sticky-sweet kiss to Tae's jaw, giggling till he obliges and turns his cheek to receive the same sugary affection.

For a while, there's just comfort and peace in the quiet. In this sanctuary. For a while it's only us. A home that goes beyond definition and understanding but doesn't lack in the amount of love we have to give. That love overflows and spills out to fill the crevices of the room, to fill the air with a lulling warmth, Joon's arms curved around me, soft coos as he looks at Mei and she looks at us. Eyes bright and curious and soft baby babbles as she coos, drool at the corner of her lips, face imitating the smiles we give her. But hers are brighter and fill my heart with a love that almost aches to experience in every thud, every flutter, every beat. For a while Seungie lies curled up peering over his mama's arm, eyes sharply focused, bright and attentive.

But after a while he grows restless and curiosity wins over, leaning forward to peer more closely, trying to catch a proper glimpse of Mei as she gurgles and wriggles around, squirming happily as she looks at us.

"S my baby?" he asks with certainty, pointing towards the swaddle, leaning further against (Y/N)'s arm, tilting forward. Turning to pat at her stomach, the pregnancy roundness not there anymore, eyes curious and contemplative. Watching with soft amusement and fondness as he tilts his head, because the baby bump isn't there anymore and slowly her body's settling back into the shape it was. Soft mama curves settling as she resettles into motherhood to Taeseungie and to Mei.

"Your baby?" I ask, lips curved into a wide smile. Curls bouncing as he nods eagerly.

"Mama's tum had baby. My baby sister?" peering with shiny, shiny eyes. All of us nodding as he leans, so drawn to the sight of her, lips parted with awe.

I cradle Mei in my arms, softly rocking her, watching as Joon carefully eases forward to scoop Seungie closer with a tender dimpled grin, drawing him into his arms and settling him on his lap so he can see properly. My eyes brighten and the others smile, warmth radiating from them, staring at him with fondness and surprise both.

"That's your baby sister." I echo, watching as he leans forward ever so careful and slow to press his lips to her cheek, watch as her gaze drifts to him, his eyes sparkling with warmth and excitement, pressing another kiss to her cheek, her eyes fluttering shut and a soft cooed babble as she waves her arms, kicking in excitement.

"And mama's body?" all starry eyed as his gaze briefly flits to look at her.

Nods all around. Then he pauses. Confused. Contemplating. Head tilting with thought.

"And your...baby?" I can feel the way my heart lurches with a fond giddiness as the two of us nod. Joon's body gravitating to mine, leaning closer to me, curved close even as he cradles Taeseungie to him.

"Baby have mama and appa and appa and and..." trailing off, face scrunched with confusion, the expression making his brows furrow, cheeks puffed out as he ponders over the words. Confused. Trying to make sense of the words he mulls over. Looking all squishy scrunched, features all rumpled, Joon leaning to press a soft kiss to the puffy fullness of one cheek. Watch as his head tilts back to look at the two of us, curls bouncing with the motion as he tilts his head, angled to peer at us. Head turning back and forth between Tae and us, scrunch deepening.

Shuffling closer to Mei and peeking with a tentative shyness.

"Then..."

Soft and hesitant and wide, wide curious eyes.

"...appa?" the word uttered to us, looking so pouty as he peeks at us, the thoughts whirling round his head.

And my heart seizes. Stills. Before it melts.

"Oh my baby..." gently drawing him forward, pressing kiss after kiss to his cheek, his body tucked and cradled between me and Joon, softly cooing at him. His cheeks pinking as he flushes sweet and endearingly.

Trying to make sense of the dynamics that exist between us, trying to understand if Mei is the only one with three appas. Or if he, as her big brother, is extended into that too. He's never called anyone but Tae appa, he's never known that you can have more than one appa. But he's learning and trying to make sense of it all,

The smile on my lips softens further.

"If you want us to be appa then whatever my Seungie wants."

"Then why baby have three appas?"

"Mama gave us two a gift because baby could only grow in mama's tum." I say gently, watching as his focus turns sharp as his head whips around to stare at (Y/N)'s stomach, seeing Tae's hand settled onto it. A soft gasp.

"Mama tum magic?"

"Mama's magic... She kept baby safe and you safe when you were teeny too." heart twisting with fondness as he lurches forward towards her to pat her stomach too, rubbing gently before pressing a kiss there.

Shiny eyed.

"Like hugs?"

"Warm, warm hugs until Seungie wanted to snug in mama and appa's arms." Joon adds, eyes drifting over the three of them, dimpled indents deepening when he gets the biggest boxy smile directed to him at his words.

Enraptured by the words, shuffling closer to listen.

"So baby sister spe-cial! She from mama magic." he finally exclaims, the loud abrupt epiphany jolting a startled cry from Mei before his face furrows with apology, soft hushes as he presses a finger to his lips, mumbling a sorry, chastised even if there's nothing but love and fondness for him.

"Just like you're magic."

Magic like their mama.

-------------------------

"There's our sugar plum." Tae beams, quick to scoop Mei from my arms, laughing as he whirls around with her, the tiny skirt of her dress flaring as she giggles, so entirely enraptured by the pretty gems he wears and his smile, eyes shining as she curls close to him, bonking him in haste before accepting the flurry of kisses he peppers her face with. Lips smooshing against his skin as she presses them to his cheek.

"Barely let them get a foot into the door this time. Impressive." (Y/N) muses from behind him, my body tilting to peer past, smiling when my eyes meet hers.

"Are you keeping track?"

"Definitely."

(The next time—he doesn't even let us get to the door.)

[......]

"Mei Mei!" A loud yell sounds, hurrying steps dashing forward as he rushes towards her, hands struggling to scoop her with the same quick flurrying motion that any of us pick her up with, their balance teetering and wobbling but giddy as he throws his arms around her, hugging her tightly. Boxy grin all lopsided, clothes rumpled and slightly muddied as he hugs her to him.

"Tete!" voice giggly, trying to tug herself free but he just grins, tightening his hug, swaying with her before he leans back.

"No hug for me?" I ask, leaning in the doorway, feeling my body jolt as fingers teasingly tickle at my sides, smile melting as I yelp, body twisting to find (Y/N) crowding behind me, eyes bright with laughter as she nudges me forward towards Tete's rushing figure, acquiescing his hug to press close to me, Mei's eyes sparkly soft and her chubby cheeks curving as she toddles, all wobbly, towards (Y/N).

"Mama!"

"Hi my sugar plum." She coos, scooping her up, cradling her to her body, swaying with her daughter in her arms, hand smoothening over soft hair, cheek pressed to her shoulder as Mei eagerly curls and sinks into the embrace, voice a mumble of half-words as she talks to (Y/N).

"How're you sweetheart?" I murmur once I draw (Y/N) into my arms, hugging her from behind and ducking my head to peek up at Mei, her eyes crinkling as she giggles, ducking her head away to hide before pop—head rearing back up to peer at me, squealing giggles as I loom close, nose nudging against hers. An impromptu peek-a-boo as she giggles and tries to hide, peering from (Y/N)'s other shoulder, swaying and squirming as she moves about, trying to hide and increasingly louder giggles when I find her, hands waving in excitement.

"Good... I started a new design." She answers finally, face radiant with joy as she watches the two of us, once we've finally sat down and Taeseungie clambers up to sprawl over my lap, mimicking Mei and trying to curl up and press small, trying to elicit giggles from his sister when she spots him tucking and folding himself up, knees digging into my chest and a squirming flail mess of limbs and curls once I catch on that the nudges of his elbow are intentional to elicit a response—though his eyes shine, sparkling with mischief, boxy grin wide and proud as I clutch him closer, poking at his sides. Giggling against my neck.

"Oh?" eyes flitting to her with curiosity.

Her head tilts as she looks at me, eyes sparking with thrill.

"How do you feel about a corseted design for men?"

The corners of my lip curve up until the smile stretches over my face, humming in thought even if I can envision it as she describes it to me.

"Tae your ever willing model?"

"Actually—I've got my eyes on Koo. His waist is tiny—he'd suit it really well."

"Yoongi will choke."

"Why uncle choke!" alarmed at the prospect, head rearing from its contented burrow against my throat, head knocking against my jaw, my hand going to rub at his head, brushing through curls even as I wince, feeling the throbbing pulse.

"Yeah Mimi—why would Yoongi choke?" eyes dancing with mischief and silent laughter, hand smoothening over Mei's clothes before her hand's snagged by two tinier ones.

I narrow my eyes at her.

But she just grins at me.

"Uncle Yoongi will be... surprised!" I amend.

"I love surprises! Mei Mei was my surprise magic gift!" he proudly enthuses.

Gaze softening at that.

"Do you like your magic gift?"

"I love Mei Mei!" scrunching slightly, affronted by the thought that it could ever be anything less.

The two of them were magic. The family we had together was magic. And the love we'd found was magic. In each other, in Tae and Joon.

[......]

The tinkling of piano keys are slow and careful, fingers pressing down one by one onto the keys. It's not the fluid ease Yoongi plays with. But his eyes are the ones that shine the proudest, gummy smile stretched wide, watching as Seungie presses the keys slowly, the notes being played in the right order, careful and unrushed—just like how Yoongi's taught him. Infinitely patient and gentle and unrushed in teaching him. That same patience settles in Seungie now.

He's a whirlwind of movement and action and flurrying everywhere, it's at the piano slowly learning to play—from plonking his hands across the keys in loud discordance for the longest time, to slowly picking up on it—I've only ever seen Taeseungie so still and alert and careful at the piano.

And when he's done, Yoongi's hand sinks into curls, brushing through them before gently squeezing his nape, gummy smile growing when his nephew's eyes shine at his praise, flourishing under his touch, growing in front of our very eyes.

I still remember the first time he'd plonked at the keys and a strong wave of nostalgia, that must be insignificant in comparison to what Tae and (Y/N) feel, faces bursting with pride and his cheeks pinking as Joon presents to him a small bouquet with a flourish.

Cradling them carefully to him before he plucks a flower from it carefully to go give to (Y/N) first, holding it out to her with soft eyes, tilting to her to accept the kisses to his cheeks, to the tender brush of fingers to his hair. And then he goes to Mei, too young still to look after flowers, too young to have outgrown the curiosity of checking new things by putting them in her mouth or poking and prodding at them. But when he hands her a pink flower, she clutches it with both hands (tight enough it's probably the reason the stem bends when she hands it to us later that night to put in a vase) and stares at her brother with all the stars of the night sky in her gaze.

Throwing her arms around him in a tight hug.

"Tete play pretty!" she praises.

"Thank you Mei."

"Why didn't you ever teach me Yoongi?" Tae asks, a lopsided grin as he nudges him from the side.

"I tried!"

"He can only play a nursery rhyme." Kook grins.

"Yoongi taught him?" surprise on (Y/N)'s face.

"Nope. He's always just known how to play that one nursery rhyme since I've known him."

Tae grins, shrugging his shoulders easily.

"It's not an easy talent—I'm quite proud." He reassures, tugging (Y/N) close to him, laughing as she shoots him a stare, burrowing his face into the crook of her neck.

"Congrats little gem. That means you're definitely already much, much better than appa." (Y/N) smiles, squirming when he grumbles against her skin before shooting their son a similar boxy grin, proud of him.

"I wan learn like Tete too!" pouty lips jutting out.

Yoongi might not say it but he can't hide how much he dotes and loves the two, gaze softening, smile gummy gummy.

"I'll teach you too." a promise and his eyes crinkle when she rushes to hug him, flower clutched tightly and her other hand tugging his shirt to be tucked against him, folded into his arms as he crouches down to hug her, to hold her close, cheek rubbing against his soft shirt.

"Mei Mei got a hug for me too?" Kook asks, nose scrunching into a bright grin when she peeks over Yoongi's shoulder, hand stretched out for him, making grabby motions for him.

The two babies the heart of our family.

And when Yoongi gives Seungie a familiar packaged bag of bonbons, my lips curve up.

Sometimes... somethings he never forgot.

Rather most things he doesn't... he just never lets it be known.

Yoongi's love is silent and encompassing in its entirety.

And there's pride and joy as his nephew and niece are tucked into his side.

And his eyes are warm with their unspoken words. For me, for (Y/N), for Joon, for Tae.

You did well.

[......]

It's not a conversation that I didn't know we needed to have, it's not a conversation I knew I needed to hear, it's a conversation I didn't know would alter so much and make so much make sense.

I don't even know what leads the conversation to drift to this.

Watching as Tae has Seungie curled against one side, head pillowed on Tae's lap, blanket drawn around him and Mei tucked to his chest, also deeply asleep, the two of them encasing Tae.

"When we had Seungie... we never planned to have more children you know."

My fingers pause in their hemming.

"And a part of me was terrified when (Y/N) was pregnant with Mei."

"What changed?"

"I was terrified of being a parent to two. Of having my attention, my love divided. I wanted to give my child the entire world—and never let them feel what I did."

My heart aches, watching the softness on his face soothes it however, a balm that soothes the ache in the same way he's come to peace with his past and with his hurts.

Grown past it.

"But you love them both so much."

It's not even an observation, it's fact. Plain and simple.

"I do. But I never thought I could. I was terrified—to be honest it's easier to love them both, love them without being worried that I'd divide my love because Mei's your daughter."

In the same way we love Seungie as our own.

In the way that both children have four parental figures.

They have four parental figures and eight constants in their lives.

"I never want Seungie to ever, ever experience a single moment of hesitation or doubt that my love for him is shared... I never want that for Mei either."

"And they don't." eyes drifting over the two of them slowly, curled up and settled. Deeply asleep.

His head tilts slightly, cheek rubbing against Mei's hair, his fingers slowly carding through Seungie's curls.

"I know. I know I was scared. But I'm not. Now I feel as if I'm double blessed. Double the happiness—double the security and love and protection we should've had growing up."

"So are they." Tilting my head to the two of them.

He's grown so much, as a man, as a husband, as a friend, as a brother and as a father.

He's grown into his multitudes.

"Yeah?"

"Without a doubt."

-----------------------

It's not immediately distinguishable from birth. And neither Joon nor I know who's the biological father—not that it matters, not that it makes her anyway less to one of us, so irrevocably and wholly ours.

It's not distinguishable from birth which time together with (Y/N) was when Mei was conceived, not sure which time we were entangled together, lost in one another, not narrowed to a specific moment, a specific night when we were with (Y/N) that led to the pregnancy.

It's not as if we hadn't had (Y/N) together, or on the same day, time together melting together in a blissed haze.

It's not noticeable until Mei grows.

When her cheeks retain a pink squishiness that has both Taes are all too eager to point out, pinkened further with the countless kisses and smooches and soft nips pressed to her cheeks until she squirms.

It's not noticeable until Joon points it out with tenderness in his eyes and the two of us encased in the reflection of his gaze.

"She's got your smile." Voice soft as he points it out, her eyes crinkled as she smiles.

When she smiles it makes her cheeks bunch up, soft squishy cheeks curved up with how wide she smiles.

When she smiles her eyes crinkle to tiny peeking crinkly slits.

When she smiles she holds our hearts captive between chubby fists that extend out in repetitive grabby motions.

Out of all the odds—Mei is biologically mine. And though it was a fifty-fifty chance—though it didn't matter because she was born and conceived from love... she's at the root of it all, the lovechild I have with (Y/N).

She's our lovechild—the literal, physical epitome of our entire lives, our love, our past, present and future. Mei is our lovechild.

A literal representation of our love, of the trust and intimacy between words and bounds, beyond understanding and reasoning.

Mei is our lovechild who perhaps regardless of how life might've panned out was born to be ours.

And Joon's eyes spark with the knowledge of that whirling storm of thoughts and emotions that flit through me in quick, rapid succession when we realise that.

When it's unmistakeable that Mei is my and (Y/N)'s child.

Because he knows how much I love (Y/N) and how much I ached to wish that we'd met under different circumstances, that she'd grown up safe and untouched from the life that kept us captive for so long.

He knows without me saying, he knows without asking.

And when I see Mei, every single moment I see her, I'm reminded of (Y/N) entirely. I get to see her exact replica grow up—Mei is (Y/N)'s carbon copy in the same way Taeseungie is Tae's.

And this way—this way I get to love her from the very beginning, I get to love and protect Mei, my teeny (Y/N) in duplicate, in a way I yearned that (Y/N) had grown up.

And she grows up love and safe and both her and Taeseungie, replicas of their parents, grow up in worlds and lives and families entirely different to the ones they did.

Because in the world Mei and Tete grow up in they're safe. They're loved. And their parents have endured and survived and reached a strength where no such fate would ever befall them.

(Y/N) POV:

I didn't dream of a knight in armour, I certainly didn't dream or entertain the thought of a lord coming in to whisk me away.

I didn't dream of a bandit either, but he becomes my dream, my happy ever after and every single chapter of my story after that.

It's not often I find my steps retracing the town back to the place that was once hell and shelter both.

It's not often I linger, unwilling to stay in the shadows of the torn-down space.

It's not often I'm there alone in the rare occasion that I find my feet retracing steps I must've taken a thousand times, each time with bottomless despair.

It's even rarer to come home and it's empty, feet guiding me instead to one of my and Tae's favourite hidden nooks, a secluded, quiet space of greenery.

It's surprising to find that somehow—somehow of course he's there, picnic blanket stretched out under the shadow of the largest tree, wicker basket settled there, his jacket discarded there and a smaller one. Seungie's.

I don't expect that I barely get to sit down when the distant figure on the horse grows closer and closer, until suddenly I can breathe and that brief, remnant tightness to my chest dissipates the moment his boxy smile grows into focus, windswept curls and arms carefully securing our son in front of him.

I don't expect him to look so dapper either, dressed in finery and smile gleaming, the sapphires at his ears glinting, Taeseungie's curls tied up in tiny pigtails instead, cheeks flushed from the wind and from horse-riding.

"Somehow I had a feeling you'd be here—where'd you vanish to little jewel?" carefully dismounting and scooping down Seungie who looks disappointed but moves towards the horse, hand patting at it gently before he moves to rummage through the basket.

The proffered apples easing the horse's gentle demeanour into something even more careful and trusting, delighted laughs filtering in the air as he feeds the horse, squirming at the ticklish sensation.

"Around town... the new shelter's doing well." I murmur.

Because only Jin would tear down one of the most costly manor houses in town to replace with a more humble looking row of smaller houses. A large non-profit shelter. The people who worked there, who poured just as much of their sweat, blood and tears—so much of them into trying to earn freedom at the cost of selling themselves... I don't know where they've gone. I know Jin had cleared every debt and helped gift them that autonomy back.

But even so—even so it's for a good cause, even if it helps people... sometimes looking at it, I can't unsee the space it once was. It doesn't hurt, it doesn't make me feel raw. It leaves me with a fleeting, brief phantom pain occasionally. Just... occasionally.

And with just those words Tae understands, drawing me into his arms for a squeezing tight hug that melts away that remnant of tightness in my chest, breaths loosening as I sink into his arms, winding my own around him, head against his shoulder. It doesn't hurt me but I'd never turn from the safe sanctuary of his arms, the reprieve they provide.

Holds me without words, without rushing me until my breaths calm, breathing deeper, feel his lips brush occasionally against my hair, against my temple.

Eyes dark and searching as he holds my gaze, hand gentle against my jaw, tilting my face to his, foreheads touching, nose nudging against mine, the gentle tactile touch letting a smile curl easily across my lips.

"Hi."

"Hi handsome stranger."

A soft pout.

"I whisk you into my arms before even letting you swoon and still a stranger?"

I let my hand skim against his chest, rest over his sternum, fingers brushing over the ruffles of his white shirt, brushing over the soft blue waistcoat he wears.

Tilting my head.

"Hi handsome." I amend.

His lips curl upwards.

"Hi beautiful... you seem to have caught me little jewel."

"How so?"

"You have a bandit in your hands. I'm all yours~" he drawls low and charming, the dark brown of his eyes slightly obscured by the curls that brush against his forehead, my fingers skimming up to push windswept hair from his face, watching as his eyes flutter under my fleeting, featherlight touch.

"Is that so? Don't know what to do with you."

"Kiss me."

My lips curl up further, a fraction of a second before he leans into me, mouth slotting to mine, grin pressed to my growing, deepening smile and the warmth of his hand angling my face to his.

Pressing fluttering pecks to my lips, trying to draw me closer and closer, swallowing the soft laugh with shining warm eyes.

And when I draw back he still keeps his hand cradling my jaw, thumbing over the curve of it, eyes sparkling and bright.

"Would you be so kind to oblige me with a horse-ride and picnic?"

I hum.

"Persuade me."

But he doesn't need to because I hear Seungie's voice bright and giddy and imploring.

"Mama!" eyes turning to him, our bodies intertwined in a loose embracing hold.

"Ride too?"

Still gently petting the horse's nose, the side of his face, eyes lighting up when the horse snickers softly, puffs of breath as it exhales against a tiny, tiny palm.

"With me? Or appa?"

Eyes dithering, hesitant as he looks between the two.

So torn.

I feel bad for teasing, arms unwinding from Tae to move towards him before Tae tugs me back against him, grinning wide.

"Both!"

"Doesn't seem like there's space." I say dubiously.

The hand that'd been extended to me tightens, grin dark and inviting and wicked, lips curved in a lopsided half-smirk.

"Don't worry—I'll make some." Words promising, hand tightening in warning before he tugs me up, eyes flashing with surprise for a fraction of a second before his grin deepens.

Swinging my leg round to sink onto the saddle in front of him, skirts rucked up and tugged aside to let me sit comfortably, hands reaching to scoop Seungie to tuck against us. Arms snaking around my front to wind comfortably around my waist. Nudging at me to take the reins.

"Letting me take the reins?"

"When have I ever not surrendered them to you?"

"Liar."

"...when have I refused to hand them over to you? Sometimes don't even need to ask."

------------------------

"Mei's your copy." Tae points out with a fond, proud smile, endeared as she curls into him, sleepily nuzzling against his shoulder, cheek squished there. He doesn't have the heart to ease her into the crib.

The cheeks are entirely Mimi's though.

The crinkly eye smile is entirely Mimi's.

"You didn't know me as a baby."

"You didn't know me as a baby either—you can just tell. Don't tell Minnie this but I think he loves her more because she looks just like you."

"He would've loved her anyways!"

"I know... I know, I know" he laughs softly, shaking his head gently.

"Just... he gets that same feeling Jin gets."

That feeling of protecting Taeseungie and loving Taeseungie unrestrained and wholly. In being there every moment of his life, in protecting him the way he never got to his brother.

And when he says that my heart clenches tight, a tender ache nursed at the thought.

"He gets to love mini-you right from the beginning. He gets to raise Mei, protect Mei, love Mei right from the beginning."

It's odd how fate plays out, gifting us carbon copies of me and Tae, gifting them families larger than the ones we ever knew.

Surrounded by love. Safe and secure.

It's odd how fate dealt us the worst hand to gamble with, only for a bandit to come sweeping into my life to tell me to place my money on the cards; as bad as they were, regardless.

It's odd but a new lease of life to see Taeseungie grow knowing Tae will always know he will never be his father and his child will never suffer the same way he did.

It's a new lease of life being mother to a daughter who resembles me, but I'd do anything to save and protect her from every harm that the world threw me to because my mother abandoned and sold me to it.

And as he eases her down slowly, soothing her slightly restless cries, as we slowly ease away from the ajar door, I let my eyes skim over the walls that are crammed full of memories, sketches and paintings that capture snapshots of lives too vivid to be contained within them—so only a fraction of their vibrancy is caught but they're rich bold hues of our life. Of our growth, of our family.

And these four walls are the first either of us will have ever called home.

(AND SCENE! WOW... THIS CHAPTER—I APOLOGISE FOR THE THREE UPDATES BUT WATTPAD. KEPT. CRASHING. ON. ME. IT REFUSED TO ACCEPT IT AS TWO PARTS SO IT HAD TO BE SPLIT INTO THREE—THE CHAPTER, THE MIGHTY END OF VANDIT WAS TOO MUCH FOR VANDIT TO HANDLE XD AND I FEEL SAD. AND SOMEWHAT? WHOLE?? FULFILLED TO HAVE WRITTEN THIS—FOR IT TO COME TO AN END AND FOR (Y/N) AND TAE TO HAVE HEALED, FOR MIMI AND (Y/N) TO FIND LOVE, FOR THIS STORY TO COME TO A CLOSE. I'M GOING TO MISS VANDIT SO MUCH BUT THANK YOU FOR SUPPORTING ME, FOR SUPPORTING THEM AND FOR SEEING, CHEERING AND ROOTING THEIR STORY ONTO THEIR END! Midiiplier—HUG NOW?)

Keep your eyes peeled this week~

Borahae! 💜💜💜

PurpleQueenie <3