Just another tumblr that has Hee as a UN @heenugagawen - Tumblr Blog

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I made this account so I can freely reblog, and read fanfics. I have another tumblr account, but I decided to make an fangirl tumblr so my posts/reblogs don’t clash. 😅

jaylaxies

i’m so sorry i can’t wrap my head around this like wym first hee left enha and now mark left nct

hazelira

last of s e v {en} c h a i r s

non-requested fic - written by @luvilists with my help

Three months later, the practice room looked exactly the same.

That was the strange thing about places filled with too many memories.

They refused to change.

The mirrors still stretched across the wall. The speakers hummed softly when someone turned them on. The floor still carried faint scratches from years of shoes sliding across it.

And against the wall,

seven chairs.

Still perfectly lined up.

The members had stopped talking about it.

At first, people asked.

Staff. Managers. Choreographers.

“Should we remove the extra chair?”

The answer had always been the same.

“No.”

No explanation.

Just no.

Tonight practice ended early.

Schedules had been exhausting lately, tours, interviews, endless rehearsals.

The kind of busy that didn’t leave room to think.

But sometimes thinking happened anyway.

One of the members dropped into the sixth chair with a tired sigh.

Another leaned against the mirror beside him.

“…Remember when we used to fight over these?”

“The chairs?”

“Yeah.”

A small laugh echoed across the room.

“He always stole the middle one.”

“He said it had the best view.”

The laughter faded quickly.

But the warmth stayed.

“…Do you think he’ll come back?” someone asked quietly.

No one answered right away.

Then one of them shrugged.

“I don’t know.”

A pause.

“But the chair’s still here.”

Across the city, Heeseung was sitting in a recording studio again.

This time the room felt less unfamiliar.

Lyric sheets were scattered across the table. A microphone stood in front of him.

His name was written on a strip of tape beneath it.

Not the same stage.

Not the same room.

But it was something.

He adjusted the headphones and listened to the quiet hum of the studio.

The silence didn’t feel as sharp anymore.

Still lonely.

But not unbearable.

His phone buzzed beside him.

A message from the group chat.

He smiled faintly before opening it.

A picture appeared.

The practice room.

Seven chairs.

Someone had drawn a tiny smiley face on the seventh seat with a marker.

Under the photo was a caption.

Reserved.

Heeseung stared at the image longer than he meant to.

Something in his chest softened.

The ache was still there.

But it wasn’t tearing him apart anymore.

Just lingering.

Like an echo.

Back in the practice room, the members were packing up.

Someone turned off the speakers. Another grabbed his bag.

Before leaving, one of them glanced back at the chairs.

Seven silhouettes stretched across the floor in the dim light.

“…You think the fans still say it?” he asked quietly.

“What?”

“That thing.”

Another member smiled faintly.

“They never stopped.”

Across the city, Heeseung opened the Unsent Drafts document one last time.

The file was full now, fragments of pain, memories, words he never knew how to send.

Tonight he scrolled to the bottom and began typing.

Maybe the stage looks different now. Maybe the formation changed.

He paused.

Then continued.

But some things don’t disappear just because time moves forward.

His fingers hovered for a moment before he wrote the final line.

Somewhere in a quiet practice room… there are still seven chairs.

He saved the document.

Closed the laptop.

And stood up.

Back in the company building, the lights finally shut off for the night.

The practice room fell into darkness.

The mirrors reflected only faint outlines in the shadows.

Seven chairs.

Still standing side by side.

Untouched.

Unmoved.

Because some spaces weren’t meant to be filled by someone else.

Some spaces stayed exactly the way they were.

Waiting.

Just in case.

And somewhere out there;

fans were still whispering the same word through quiet smiles and lingering tears.

The word that had never really changed.

No matter how many stages passed.

No matter how much time moved forward.

S e v {EN}.

(last one)

angst | heeseung m.list - @ayliyahlyla @claireshelby @kpopotaku-26 @staarflowerr @gentlestpour @addictedtohobi @teireiii @regaltwat @lhspeachie @jungwonisme @hoseokteardrop @en-cityyy @heavnrth @iluvagoodashy @foreveronez @meowznyoizz @justpassingdontworry @kristynaaah @rikismists @baybayyy @sarahtarannum @beebrightness @wonuzu @pinkglitterpuke

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Allow Heeseung to Pursue Solo Activities Without Leaving ENHYPEN

italktofridges

guys, whatever you are planning to type on weverse, twt or elsewhere right now, please be respectful and show compassion to the members. this must have been a hella tough decision to make for heeseung and a hella tough decision to come to terms with for the rest of the members, so let‘s not amplify the drama and show support instead. it‘s ok to be sad about the news but don‘t take it out on anyone.

jailuvz

let’s continue supporting Heeseung and the rest of Enhypen

ok so I’ve calmed down bc genuinely that was a shock.

as much as it’s so upsetting to hear heeseung leaving the group to be a soloist, he’s still under Belift so he didn’t leave fully, we’re still gonna see him, just as a soloist, so don’t lose all hope yall and pls don’t hurt yourselves, you’re gonna make Heeseung feel guilty.

let’s all calm ourselves and think about how heeseung will come back and let’s give him as much support and love as possible bc he’s gonna be doing everything alone now, let’s make sure his solo career goes well so he doesn’t feel upset bc it has been his dream for a very long time.

we all know how hybe especially belift was towards enhypen, so it’s obvious belift won’t give as much effort on promoting him, which is why we have to do our absolute best to give him our support, he believes in us, let’s not disappoint him.

now pls don’t stop giving support towards enhypen, even if they’re 6 now and I’m sure the rest of the members are very upset at this decision, they wanna keep moving forward until 2027, which honestly I don’t think they’ll renew their contract bc I’m 99% sure they won’t continue without heeseung, which is understandable, so let’s continue supporting our boys till then.

Edit: I’m still very upset about this, it’s gonna take me days or weeks to be able to listen to any enha song without feeing sad about it.

jaylaxies

honestly i js hope all the members are okay and safe rn this is so fucking sad

hazelira

protec duty

requested by anon

The morning light spilled through the blinds, highlighting the tiny backpack that sat waiting by the door. Jake crouched down to adjust his son’s little shoes, feeling the familiar twist in his chest. His three-year-old’s bottom lip trembled, and his wide eyes glistened with the beginnings of tears.

“Pwease, Daddy… Layla come to my scool?” his son pleaded, tugging at Jake’s sleeve.

Jake forced a soft smile, rubbing the boy’s back. “I know, buddy… I know you want her there. But Layla can’t go to school. She has to stay here, nap, and wait for us. But you’re gonna have so much fun today, I promise.”

“Nooo!” the toddler wailed, his tiny hands gripping Jake’s shirt tightly. “Layla! I want her! She pwotect me! Scool scary without her!”

Jake felt the tug in his chest tighten. “I know, pal. I know it’s scary… but I’ll be there to protect you, and Layla’s protecting the house. Deal?”

The boy shook his head, hiccupping. “Nooo… Layla! Layla! Come wif me! I want her! No bad guys!”

Layla padded over, her cream-colored coat brushing Jake’s leg. She nuzzled the toddler’s cheek, and he threw his arms around her neck in a desperate hug, burying his face in her soft fur. “Nooo! Layla! Pwease! Protec me! Daddy, she go too!”

The preschool teacher knelt, her voice soft. “Hey, buddy… you’re gonna have so much fun in class. There are toys and friends and… look, you can play with blocks!”

The boy wriggled in her arms, shaking his head. “Nooo! I want Layla! I want Daddy! Protec meee!”

Jake knelt beside them, gently stroking his son’s back. “Buddy… I know it’s hard. But you’re brave. You’re gonna have fun at school, and I’ll be right here when you’re done. And Layla will be right here too. She’s our protector, remember?”

The toddler let out a shaky breath, clinging to Layla even as the teacher tried to lead him toward the classroom. “I… I pwotect me… wif Layla… Daddy… come too…”

“I’m here, buddy,” Jake said, scooping him up and holding him close. “I’ve got you. I’ll protect you. Layla’s guarding the house, I’m guarding you. How about we make a deal? You go to school, and after, we get ice cream; your favourite.”

The boy sniffled, clinging a little tighter. “Pwease… pwease… chocolate chi cookie dough?”

Jake smiled through the lump in his throat. “Yes. And I’ll get My Mom is an Alien, just like I always do.”

The teacher offered a gentle hand again. “Can I help you walk in?”

The boy’s arms tightened around Layla one last time. “Nooo! Daddy! Nooo! Protec me! I need Layla!”

Jake laughed softly, heart cracking. “You’re so brave, buddy. I know it’s scary, but you can do this. Layla’s here… I’m here… we’re always protecting you.”

With one final hug, the toddler reluctantly allowed the teacher to lead him inside, his little hands brushing Layla’s fur as if to memorize her scent. Jake’s heart ached and swelled at the same time, seeing his little boy take that first step.

By the time school was over, Jake and his son were sitting on a sunlit bench outside Baskin-Robbins. The boy held his cup of chocolate chi cookie dough like it was gold, while Jake indulged in a double scoop of My Mom is an Alien.

“You did it, buddy,” Jake said gently. “You went to school without Layla.”

“Yeah…” the toddler said, smiling, chocolate smudged on his cheeks. “But she pwotected me! Daddy, she always pwotects me!”

Jake laughed, brushing his thumb across the boy’s cheek. “Always, pal. She always will. And me too. We’ve got you, always.”

Layla sat loyally by their side, tail sweeping the ground lazily, the perfect guardian in cream-colored fur.

In that moment, man, boy, and dog felt the world settle around them; soft, safe, and sticky with ice cream and love.

After the last bite of chocolate chi cookie dough, the little boy clambered off the bench and ran straight to Layla, throwing himself onto her soft fur.

“Layla! I go scool! I… I build tower! I… I meet fwiends! But… I miss you! Pwotect me, Layla!” he babbled, his words tumbling over each other in pure toddler logic.

Layla leaned her head down, nudging him gently with her nose, listening as if she understood every jumbled syllable.

“I… I eat snack! I… I… no cry! But… I want you… you pwotect me always… yes!” he exclaimed, tightening his tiny arms around her neck again.

Jake leaned against the bench, watching them. His heart swelled, a mix of pride, relief, and an ache only parenthood could deliver. “She’s always gonna be your protector, buddy. And me too. You did amazing today.”

The boy pulled back just enough to grin, chocolate smudged lips shining. “We… we pwotect each other, Daddy… and Layla!”

Layla wagged her tail slowly, settling her head on the boy’s lap, and for a quiet, golden moment, the three of them were exactly where they were supposed to be: safe, loved, and perfectly sticky with ice cream.

hazelira

for the son we prayed for

requested by @reep04 - TW: This fic includes themes of infertility/struggles to conceive, pregnancy, medical procedures, and pregnancy complications including vaginal bleeding related to stress. Emotional distress and anxiety surrounding pregnancy outcomes are also depicted. The story ends on a hopeful and comforting note.

There had been so many months of disappointment that Y/N learned how to grieve quietly.

Negative tests were folded into trash bins. Appointments are spoken about in hushed voices. Jay holding you at night, whispering We still have each other even when his voice cracked just a little.

They never said it out loud, but the fear lingered; that maybe it just wasn’t meant to happen.

So when the test finally showed two lines, Y/N sat on the bathroom floor, hands shaking, heart racing so fast it felt unreal.

Positive.

You laughed and cried at the same time, pressing a hand over your mouth to keep from sobbing too loudly. This wasn’t something she wanted to say casually. After everything they’d been through, Jay deserved magic.

You planned carefully.

A small box. Inside it, a tiny pair of baby socks and a handwritten note:

“Hi, Daddy. I’ll see you soon.”

When Jay came home that night, tired and unaware, you handed him the box with a nervous smile.

“What’s this?” he asked, confused.

He opened it.

And froze.

For a second, Y/N worried he hadn’t understood; until his breath hitched sharply, eyes filling before he could stop it.

“Y/N…” His voice broke. “Is this—?”

You nodded, already crying. “I’m pregnant.”

Jay dropped the box and pulled you into his arms so tightly you felt his heart pounding against yours. He cried openly, forehead pressed to your shoulder.

“We did it,” he whispered over and over. “We really did it.”

The months that followed felt fragile and precious.

They listened to the first heartbeat together, Jay’s hand gripping hers as the rhythmic sound filled the room. He laughed through tears, disbelief written all over his face.

“That’s him,” he whispered. “That’s our baby.”

The first kick made Y/N gasp, and Jay scrambled across the bed, pressing his ear to your stomach like it might disappear if he didn’t act fast.

“I felt it,” he said softly, awed. “He’s really there.”

Jay became careful in ways you’d never seen before; walking on the side of the road closest to traffic, reminding you to rest, kissing your belly before work.

But stress crept in anyway.

Long hours. Deadlines. Too many days where you pushed yourself harder than you should have.

The bleeding happened suddenly.

Y/N noticed it first in the restroom at work; light at first, then enough to make your chest tighten in fear. Your hands trembled as you called Jay.

“Jay,” she whispered, trying to stay calm. “I’m bleeding.”

Everything after that blurred.

The hospital room smelled sterile and cold. Doctors spoke gently but thoughtfully, using words like vaginal bleeding, threatened preterm labour, and stress-related complications. Y/N was placed on bed rest and monitored carefully.

Jay never left your side.

He held your hand through every test, every ultrasound, whispering reassurances even when fear haunted his eyes.

“It’s not your fault,” he told your firmly, pressing his forehead to hers. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

When their son’s heartbeat echoed through the room again—strong and steady—Jay let out a breath he’d been holding for weeks.

The rest of the pregnancy passed slowly, cautiously.

And then, finally, the day came.

Jay stood beside your hospital bed, overwhelmed, exhausted and terrified in the best way possible.

When the nurse gently placed their newborn son into his arms, Jay stopped breathing altogether.

He was so small.

So warm.

So real.

Jay’s hands trembled as he held him close, tears slipping freely down his face.

“Hi,” he whispered to their son, voice shaking. “I’m your dad.”

The baby stirred softly, tiny fingers curling around Jay’s finger.

Jay laughed through tears, pressing a kiss to the baby’s forehead.

“We waited so long for you,” he whispered. “And I’d do it all over again. Every single time.”

Y/N watched from the bed, heart full to bursting.

In that moment—watching Jay cradle their son with such love—every tear, every fear, every painful waiting month felt worth it.

They had him.

And he was finally home.

enha dad taglist<3 - @youngheejay @axfyl @jalicecookie @reep04 @baeyrah @thestarinstarbucks @nmurark05 @yuuuraaa @ethanatvre @la-choiblog @laylasbunbunny @heavnrth @vayuzzz @pinkglitterpuke @leilamaybelyla @heeseungsbm @kireistrawberryjayla @m1kkso @heyitsmei06 @pinkdazed @saphiranishimurashan @en-cityyy @berryberrystrawbery @rikifever @seonhoon @lhspeachie @randomanothercreature @ro-diaries @ihearteatingxo @f4irynono @ijustwannareadstuff20 @luvleyylina @celestialen @teddybeartaetae @hoseokteardrop @starry-eyed-bimbo @grandlightcandy @curiousdemonfox

hazelira

the day foxy fell

It wasn’t supposed to rain today.

Jake checked the forecast twice, once before breakfast, once after; but the sky had made other plans. A fine mist clung to the world like it didn’t know whether to commit to rain or not, and puddles pooled along the sidewalk in uneven patches, reflecting the dim gray light.

Jake tightened his grip on the tiny hand in his.

“Careful, buddy. Slow steps.”

But his son, two weeks into his newfound superpower of independent walking; waddled with the unstoppable confidence of someone who had no sense of gravity or consequences. His rain boots were two sizes too big, partly on purpose, because Jake wanted them to last through the season. Instead, every step produced a cartoonish clomp.

The little boy’s other hand clutched his prized stuffed fox. A faded orange thing with a lopsided ear and a tail that had been chewed on once during teething.

Jake had suggested, politely, then firmly; that maybe Foxy should stay home today.

But the toddler had responded with wide eyes and a wobbling lower lip, and Jake had folded like wet cardboard.

“Okay,” Jake said with a sigh, “one loop around the block.”

His son didn’t answer, too busy shrieking with joy as he stomped into his first puddle, spraying water up his own pant legs and all over Jake’s jeans.

“Oh, awesome. Perfect,” Jake muttered, brushing droplets off his thigh. “Why even do laundry?”

The toddler giggled, a bright, airy sound that cracked open something soft in Jake’s chest.

Then he did it again. And again. Puddle after puddle, each splash bigger than the last.

Jake didn’t stop him. He couldn’t. Not when he remembered how terrified he’d been watching his son try to stand on his own for the first time; tiny legs shaking, fingers gripping his pant leg, the fall inevitable. Not when he remembered how proud the little boy had been, chest puffed out like he’d conquered Everest.

He deserved puddles.

“Alright, next one’s small,” Jake warned, though his son had zero interest in warnings.

The toddler bent his knees, tiny body poised like a spring; when suddenly his grip loosened.

The fox flew.

It wasn’t dramatic. Not slow motion. Just a clumsy toddler arm, a slippery grip, and fate.

Foxy hit the water with a soggy splut.

Jake froze. His son froze.

And then it happened.

The lower lip trembles.

“Oh no. Hey, hey, buddy, it’s okay.” Jake crouched immediately, scooping up the drenched stuffed animal. It dripped from every limb. “He’s just… taking a puddle bath. Totally fine.”

His son stared at the soaked toy like the world had ended. Then, very quietly, he made a sound Jake had never heard before; something between a whimper and a tiny, wounded gasp.

The kind that punctured Jake right in the heart.

“Okay. Emergency dad mode,” Jake murmured, pushing his wet hair off his forehead.

He lifted Foxy, shook him gently, then pressed the plush body to his own chest, rubbing it against his hoodie like a makeshift towel. “See? Look. Foxy’s fine. He’s brave. He can handle puddles.”

The toddler blinked up at him, eyes glistening.

Jake swallowed. “Hey. I got you. And him. Nobody’s getting left behind on my watch.”

He handed the damp fox back.

His son hugged it as if it were oxygen. Then he toddled forward and pressed his forehead into Jake’s knee.

Jake’s heart melted into something unrecognizable.

He scooped up the boy with one arm and held him close. “Alright, champ. Let’s go home. Hot chocolate for you, hair dryer spa day for Foxy.”

The toddler made a soft, content noise, rubbing his cheek against Jake’s shoulder.

As they walked, the rain finally committed, coming down in a gentle, steady curtain.

Jake tightened his hold, shielding his son and his very damp, very loved fox.

“Yeah,” he whispered into the rain. “Totally worth the laundry.”

By the time they got home, Jake was carrying both his toddler and the fox, the three of them equally damp. He shook out his hair in the entryway, kicked the door shut with his heel, and set his son down gently.

“Okay,” Jake said, peeling off his hoodie with one hand, “Operation Foxy Rescue: Phase Two.”

His son toddled after him with single-minded determination, clutching the corner of Jake’s shirt like he didn’t fully trust the universe not to try and retake Foxy.

Jake crouched beside him.

“Hey, buddy, we’re just gonna wash him. He needs it. He smells like puddle soup.”

The toddler’s face scrunched up in distress at the thought.

Jake softened, brushing a thumb over his son’s cheek.

“He’ll come out warm and fluffy, I promise. Like a brand new fox.”

He held out his hand, palm open.

After a painfully long hesitation, the little boy extended his arms and surrendered Foxy with the kind of solemnity usually reserved for knights presenting swords. Jake accepted the toy with equal gravity.

Together, they marched to the laundry room.

Jake opened the washer door with a dramatic swoosh.

“Foxy’s bath time.”

He placed the stuffed fox inside, carefully and gently, as if he were lowering a tiny creature into a spa rather than a metal drum.

His son let out a soft, uncertain noise.

Jake ruffled his hair. “He’ll be okay. You can even push the button if you want.”

The toddler perked up at that, waddling forward with newfound purpose. His tiny finger hovered over the start button, then, with all the power and authority in the world; he pressed it.

The washer whirred to life.

His son flinched.

Jake scooped him up instantly. “It’s okay. That sound means it’s working.”

They stood there together, watching the drum spin slowly, Foxy tumbling inside like a sleepy acrobat.

His son rested his head under Jake’s chin, gripping the collar of his T-shirt. Jake kissed the top of his head.

“Foxy’s tougher than he looks,” he murmured.

Forty minutes later, when the washer chimed, the toddler gasped as if he’d been waiting his entire life for that exact sound. Jake lifted him again and opened the door.

A damp, soggy fox plopped forward.

Jake grinned. “Alright. He survived phase two. Now, into the dryer.”

This time, his son didn’t need coaxing. He reached out, touching Foxy’s damp fur with reverence. Then he nodded; tiny, serious, official.

Jake placed Foxy in the dryer.

“Wanna help again?”

His son nodded vigorously.

Jake let him press the start button, and the low, warm rumble of the dryer filled the room.

The toddler leaned his forehead against the machine, watching, entranced by the spinning window.

Jake laughed softly. “Same, kiddo. I also stare at the dryer when I’m waiting for something I love to be okay.”

He didn’t expect the toddler to understand, but his son turned around, reached up, and patted Jake’s cheek with his small hand; like he did understand. Or at least felt something that mirrored it.

Jake felt his throat tighten.

When the dryer beeped, the toddler nearly toppled over in excitement.

Jake opened the door and pulled out Foxy; warm, fluffy, smelling faintly of lavender detergent.

“Look at that,” Jake said, crouching. “Brand new fox.”

His son’s face lit up like sunrise. He hugged the plush tight, burying his cheek into its fur. A slight contented hum vibrated through him, a sound Jake wished he could bottle forever.

Then the toddler waddled forward and pressed Foxy gently to Jake’s chest—sharing—just for a second.

Jake swallowed hard.

“Yeah,” he whispered, pulling both of them into a hug. “He’s home.”

requested by @jalicecookie | baby taglist<3

@youngheejay @axfyl @jalicecookie @curiousdemonfox @reep04 @thestarinstarbucks @nmurark05 @yuuuraaa @ethanatvre @la-choiblog @laylasbunbunny @24svnn @pinkglitterpuke @leilamaybelyla @heeseungsbm @kireistrawberryjayla @heyitsmei06 @saphiranishimurashan @en-cityyy @berryberrystrawbery @m1kkso @rikifever @seonhoon @lhspeachie @randomanothercreature @ro-diaries @ihearteatingxo @ijustwannareadstuff20 @luvleyylina @celestialen @teddybeartaetae @hoseokteardrop @baeyrah @f4irynono @starry-eyed-bimbo @grandlightcandy @vayuzzz

hazelira

steps to you

The late afternoon sunlight streamed softly through the living room curtains, painting everything in a warm, golden hue. You were sprawled on the carpet, a small pile of colourful blocks surrounding your baby boy as he babbled happily, slapping his chubby hands against them.

The faint clinking of dishes from the kitchen could be heard—Heeseung, humming a soft tune, washing up after lunch. You smiled; it was one of those peaceful, heart-full days you wished to last forever.

“Dada~,” your son giggled, triumphantly holding up a blue block.

Heeseung peeked his head out from the kitchen, his smile instantly brightening at the sight. “Yeah, buddy?”

Your son let the block drop and clapped his hands, eyes sparkling. “Dada!”

Heeseung dried his hands quickly and walked over, crouching beside you. You laughed as your baby reached for him, little fingers grabbing at the air. “He really loves you, huh?” you teased.

“Can you blame him?” Heeseung grinned, kissing your head before scooping the baby into his arms. “He gets it from his mama.”

You rolled your eyes, cheeks warming, but before you could retort, your son wriggled excitedly in Heeseung’s arms—little legs kicking, babbling nonsense that made absolutely no sense but was somehow the most precious thing you’d ever heard.

Heeseung’s heart melted for what felt like the thousandth time.

He’d already seen this once—your baby’s first wobbly steps. It happened three days ago, when he’d been playing with him while you were grocery shopping. Just a few uncertain toddles, but Heeseung’s heart had nearly burst.

Still, he’d said nothing.

Because he knew.

You deserved this moment—the awe, the tears, the laughter.

So now, as your little boy reached for the blocks again, setting his tiny jaw in determination, Heeseung stayed silent, just watching quietly.

Your son grunted softly, pushing himself up on his hands, knees, and feet—teetering like a little penguin.

You gasped. “Hee… Heeseung, look!”

He feigned surprise perfectly, hand over his heart. “Oh? What’s my little man doing?”

“Wait, wait—oh my gosh—!” you squealed, frozen in place as your son took one wobbly step… then another. His chubby arms waved wildly for balance, and Heeseung quickly shifted closer just in case—but your baby stayed up, grinning wide, eyes full of triumph.

“Come to mama, sweetheart!” you cooed, voice thick with tears you couldn’t hold back.

He took one more step—then another—and practically fell into your arms. You caught him, laughing breathlessly, hugging him tight as he squealed with delight.

“He did it! Heeseung, he walked! He actually—oh my god!” you beamed, your whole face lighting up.

Heeseung crouched beside you, pressing a soft kiss to your son’s hair. “He did so well,” he murmured, voice low and fond. “Just like his mama—once he starts, there’s no stopping him.”

You turned to him, eyes glimmering. “Did you see his little face? He looked so proud!”

He chuckled, brushing a thumb across your cheek. “Yeah. He looked just like you when you accomplish something you’ve been dreaming of.”

You laughed, swatting him lightly, but the tears kept coming. The baby gurgled happily between you both, patting your cheeks with his tiny palms, unaware he had just given his parents one of the most perfect memories of their lives.

Heeseung smiled quietly as he wrapped his arms around you and your baby, pulling you close.

He didn’t mind keeping his secret—he’d already gotten his moment.

But this?

Watching you get yours—your laughter, your joy, your happy tears—was even better.

It had been three days since the Big Moment™—when your baby boy had finally taken his first steps right into your arms. You were still glowing from it, rewatching the video on your phone at least ten times daily and sending it to everyone you knew.

Right now, you were lounging on the couch, your son wobbling proudly across the carpet again, his little steps steadier each time. “Look at him go,” you cooed, resting your chin in your palm. “He’s such a natural.”

Heeseung, sitting beside you, chuckled softly. “Yeah, he’s a pro now.”

You smiled, not noticing the way his tone carried a hint of fond nostalgia. “I still can’t believe it happened. I was so scared I was gonna miss it.”

Heeseung pressed his lips together, hiding a tiny smile. “…yeah.”

You turned to him, squinting playfully. “Wait. What’s that yeah supposed to mean?”

“Huh?” He looked at you innocently, way too innocently. “Nothing.”

“Lee Heeseung.” You leaned closer, narrowing your eyes. “I know that tone. You’re hiding something.”

He laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “No, no, I just— he’s been trying for a while, you know? Maybe he’s been… um… building up to it?”

Your jaw dropped. “Oh my gosh. Lee Heeseung.”

He winced. “Okay, okay—don’t be mad!”

“You knew he could walk already, didn’t you?!”

Heeseung’s sheepish grin was all the confirmation you needed.

“Hee!” you groaned, smacking his arm with a throw pillow. “You lied to me!”

He burst out laughing, hands raised in surrender. “I didn’t lie! I just… didn’t mention it.”

“Unbelievable!” you said, though your lips twitched into a smile. “How long have you been keeping it from me?”

He chuckled, shifting closer to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “Just a few days. He took, like, three steps when you were out shopping. And then he fell on his butt. But—”

“But?” you said, trying to look unimpressed.

“But I knew how much you wanted to see it. I wanted you to have that first.”

Your heart softened instantly. “Heeseung…”

He smiled, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “You should’ve seen your face that day, baby. You were glowing. I’d see his first steps a hundred times if it meant watching you look that happy again.”

You exhaled, your shoulders relaxing, and you leaned your head on his shoulder. “You’re too sweet for your own good, you know that?”

He grinned. “You married me, so maybe you like that.”

Before you could respond, your son waddled over, arms outstretched, babbling proudly. “Mama! Dada!”

You both turned to him, instantly melting. Heeseung scooped him up, and you kissed his soft cheek, giggling when he squealed.

“Fine,” you said, smiling at both of them. “You’re forgiven. But next time he does something new, we find out together.”

Heeseung nodded solemnly. “Deal.” Then he smirked. “Unless he starts talking while you’re in the shower. In that case—”

“Heeseung!”

He laughed, pulling you both into a hug as your baby giggled between you.

And just like that, the secret was out—and your little family felt even more perfect.

requested by @m1kkso

baby taglist<3 | heeseung m.list

hazelira

jaekee

Jake flopped onto the couch with a dramatic groan, pretending to be exhausted from… absolutely nothing. His two-year-old whirlwind of energy, Jaehee, toddled over, hair bouncing, clutching a tiny plastic makeup kit and a box of hair accessories.

“Daddyyy! Fix!” she squealed in her adorable Aussie lilt, waving a scrunchie triumphantly.

Jake grinned, raising his hands in surrender. “Oh no, Jaehee… Daddy’s too tired. Maybe later?”

“NOOO!” she stomped her chubby little foot. “Now! Fix! Pretty!”

He laughed, the sound filling the room as she climbed onto the couch and plopped on his lap. Her tiny hands grabbed a soft pink hair clip and started tugging at his hair with determined little tugs.

“Okay, okay, Miss Stylist,” he said, tilting his head. “What’s first?”

“Hairy! Hairy!” she babbled, pinching a few strands and securing them with a rainbow clip. She clapped her hands. “Yesss! Fancy!”

Jake peeked at the mirror she had grabbed from the corner of the room. His reflection was slowly being transformed—one floppy clip at a time—into something… incredibly ridiculous and adorable.

“Now… painty paint!” she announced, brandishing a bright pink lipstick. Jake squealed in mock horror.

“Painty paint… on Daddy?” he asked, his voice dramatically trembling.

“Yesh! Pretty Daddy!” she insisted, leaning in. Her little fingers pressed the lipstick against his lips in uneven, sticky swipes. She giggled, delighted at her masterpiece.

Jake puckered, making exaggerated faces. “Oh nooo, I’m ruined forever!” he wailed playfully, earning a delighted squeal from Jaehee. She clapped her hands and babbled something that sounded like, “Daddyyy fuh-wee!” (translation: Daddy funny!)

Next came the glitter. Tiny sparkles clung to his cheeks, eyelids, and even a stray fleck on his nose. Jaehee studied her work with the solemnity of a master artist.

“Pwetty! Pwetty Daddy!” she cheered, bouncing up and down.

Jake scooped her into a big hug, careful not to smudge the masterpiece. “I’m the prettiest Daddy in the whole world, thanks to my amazing little stylist,” he said, spinning her gently in his arms.

Jaehee shrieked with laughter, letting out little babbles of pure joy. “Mo-aur! Mo-aur pwetty!”

“Alright, alright,” Jake said, pretending to sigh. “Time for the grand finale!” He leaned back dramatically as she placed a tiny crown hair clip on his head.

“QUEEN DADDY!” she announced triumphantly, clapping her sticky little hands.

Jake couldn’t stop grinning, his heart melting as he held his giggling daughter. “Queen Daddy it is,” he said. “But only if my royal assistant stays by my side.”

“Yesh! Mwah!” she agreed, crawling onto his lap again, reaching for the glitter.

And just like that, the living room turned into their own little kingdom of giggles, sparkles, and love—the chaos that made every bit of glitter and sticky lipstick worth it.

requested by anon

baby taglist<3 | jake m.list

hazelira

ear piercings

The waiting room smelled faintly of antiseptic and baby lotion. Heeseung’s fingers drummed nervously against the armrest, eyes darting between the small chair Havyn was secured in and you, holding the camera, your smile calm but mischievous.

“I really don’t think she’s ready for this,” Heeseung muttered, his voice low.

You just hummed, leaning down to gently smooth Havyn’s tiny curls. “She’s ready, Hees. Don’t worry,” you said softly, though your fingers didn’t stop recording.

Heeseung swallowed hard. “Three months, Y/N. Three months.” His tone carried a mixture of fear, disbelief, and begrudging acceptance.

The nurse cooed softly at Havyn as she cleaned one little earlobe. Havyn’s tiny fists curled around her cheeks, eyes blinking up at the world in pure innocence. Heeseung’s chest tightened.

Before he could protest again, the nurse pressed the stud against Havyn’s lobe. The cry that tore from her mouth made his heart lurch painfully in his chest.

Heeseung jerked forward instinctively, arms hovering. “No—no, baby, it’s okay, okay—” His voice cracked, and his eyes stung. He reached for her, but the nurse gently held her in place for the second ear.

You captured it all, your thumb brushing against Havyn’s pudgy little hand as she wailed. “It’s okay, my love, you’re okay,” you cooed, murmuring into the camera.

Heeseung turned his gaze to you, almost silently screaming why, his head shaking slightly, his lips parted like he wanted to argue but couldn’t find the words.

“She’s crying!” Heeseung whispered, a tremor in his voice, his whole body tense.

“I know,” you said calmly, meeting his gaze. “I was once a baby, Hees. I went through the ear-piercing trauma. I probably wailed my heart out when I was Havyn’s age and look—” you gestured to her with a soft smile, “I look like I turned out fine. I don’t even remember getting it done, but my parents told me that’s what happened.”

Heeseung’s eyes softened, the rigid panic melting into a hollow ache in his chest. He felt his legs give slightly as the nurse finished the second ear. Finally, she handed Havyn to him, her little body warm and trembling against his chest.

Heeseung held her close, rocking gently, whispering repeatedly, “It’s gonna be okay, baby girl. It’s okay.” His lips brushed the top of her head, eyes closing briefly as if the sound of her soft, hiccupping cries might break him apart.

Havyn calmed a fraction in his arms, still sniffly, still wailing softly. But Heeseung didn’t let go. Not for a second.

You lowered your phone, leaning against him, letting him have this moment, letting him breathe and feel every pang of fatherly guilt and love.

“You did so well, baby,” Heeseung murmured, rocking her slightly. “Dada’s so proud of you. So proud.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself a small, shaky smile, brushing a stray curl from her damp forehead. She was his little girl, still perfect, still his, and no cry, needle, or moment of fear could ever change that.

baby taglist<3 | requested by @jksmilkshake

FULL HEESEUNG LIBRARY

jaylaxies

KINKTOBER DAY 7 — SIZE KINK ‣ lee heeseung

PAIRING: heeseung x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, unprotected sex, size kink, fingering, usage of nicknames, breeding.

WC: 1.8k words

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, loves! here is another fic, i hope you guys will like it :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33

✎ kinktober masterlist

enhypendata

simsdoll

pillow talk x2

❥︎ pairing : twins!heeseung & evan X afab!reader

cw: smut

Evan was the first to break the tension. His thumb tilted your chin just enough before his mouth pressed on yours - quick, deliberate, stealing your breath. He pulled back only a fraction, lips brushing yours as he murmered, "tastes even better than i thought."

You barely had time to process before Heeseung claimed the other side, his lips finding the edge of your jaw, grazing slow down to the curve of your neck. The contrast made you shiver: Evan sharp and playful, Heeseung steady, and purposeful.

"Relax," Heeseung whispered against your skin, his hand still firm on your thigh. "You can handle both of us."

"I-i.." you stuttered, but it just made Evan chuckle. "Shhh... just be quiet. We'll help you, okay?"

You nodded as Heeseung picked you up, carrying you to one of the apartment's bedrooms. He laid you down on the bed, crawling over you while Evan sat at the side, brushing his fingers through your hair with a slight smile.

Heeseung kissed down your jaw, your neck, and on your collarbone, his hands reaching for the hem of your crop top. His eyes bore into yours, silently asking for permission.

As you nodded, he slowly pulled your shirt up and over your head, staring at your tits which had been cupped by your lacy pink bra. He grinned and reached underneath you to undo the strap, pulling your bra off too, and immediately heading for your nipples.

His mouth latched onto one of them, sucking and licking, while his hand played with the other, making you whimper. You covered your mouth, trying to stay quiet, feeling embarassed.

Evan chuckled at that, pulling your hand off your mouth and lacing your fingers together. "It's okay, pretty. You can be loud."

fast forward maybe 15 minutes later, here you are bouncing on evan's cock while heeseung sits behind you, kissing your neck and playing with your peaks. "Fuck, baby..." evan groaned.

"please, 'm s-so close.." you whimpered, slightly losing your rhythm which made heeseung grab your hips and move you up and down on evan. your thighs start shaking and you feel the pressure in your lower stomach starting to build up rapidly, making you throw your head back on heeseung's shoulder and moan.

"go ahead baby, cum all over my cock...," you hear evan say. And so you did, letting out a loud moan, closing your eyes and holding heeseung's hand.

Not short after, evan shoots his load up into you. You fall back against heeseung, evan still inside you. You breathe heavily as heeseung slowly grabs you, sits down next to his brother on the bed and pulling you with him. You end up sandwiched between the two of them as they both look at you with small smiles.

"You did so good for us... so perfect." Heeseung smiles, kissing your cheek. Evan's hand rakes through your hair, while he leaves small kisses on your neck.

the night ends with you falling asleep between the two guys, filled and loved.

𝒛𝒊𝒛𝒊 𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒔 ! : okai hai guys this is kinda ahh but i hope you somewhat like it😞😞😞 also i miss blond heeseung so bad like pls come home the kids miss u:((((

rosethyx

This cutie patootie genre of heeseung is my favourite 😭 like how can he be so cute, like he could just fit in my pocket🥺 My poor heart can't handle this.....GUYS THIS CUTIE TRIGGERED MY CUTENESS AGGRESSION 😭❤️

EN-O CLOCK EP 122

hazelira

operation: save the keys

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Jake knew something was wrong the second the house went too quiet.

For a man who had spent the last year learning to interpret the mysterious noises of fatherhood—rattles clanging, high-pitched giggles, the thump-thump-thump of a toddler bum-shuffling across the floor—silence was the most suspicious sound of all.

“Where’s the chaotic gremlin?” he muttered, stepping away from the half-made coffee.

Sure enough, he found his one-year-old crouched by the bathroom door, clutching something shiny in chubby hands. The grin across Jake’s face froze when he realized exactly what those little fingers gripped.

The car keys.

“No, no, no—buddy, those are not bath toys.” He lunged forward just as his kid toddled over to the toilet, squealing with delight at the newfound game.

Tiny hands shot out. Keys dangled over the open water.

Jake’s heart stopped. “Don’t you dare—”

SPLASH.

The keys disappeared with a triumphant little giggle, and Jake slapped a hand over his face.

“Okay. Alright. No big deal. We’ll…we’ll fix this. Daddy is a man of solutions,” he told himself, kneeling. His kid clapped, apparently very proud of the contribution to household chaos.

Jake peered into the toilet, praying.

The keys, mercifully, had not been flushed all the way down. They were stuck at the curve, glinting faintly. Still reachable. Still savable.

He sighed, rolling up his sleeve. “You owe me big time, kiddo.”

The toddler squealed in approval as Jake plunged his hand into the cold water, fished around, and finally came back victorious, dripping but holding the soggy keys.

“Got ‘em!” Jake announced, shaking them like a trophy. His one-year-old clapped again, clearly convinced this had been a team effort.

Jake laughed despite himself, ruffling the baby’s soft hair with his free hand. “You’re lucky you’re cute. Otherwise, you’d already be on Craigslist under ‘slightly used toddler, comes with chaos.’”

The kid leaned against his leg, babbling happily, and Jake felt his exasperation melt into something warm and soft.

“Guess I can live with soggy keys,” he murmured, kissing his child’s head. “Just…no more toilet treasure hunts, okay?”

The toddler giggled in response, which Jake knew meant the opposite.

Still, he couldn’t help but smile. This was fatherhood—messy, unpredictable, and worth every soaked keyring.

It started with silence.

And Jake had learned, over the course of twelve months of fatherhood, that silence was never, ever good. Silence meant plotting. Silence meant destruction. Silence meant—

Clink.

Jake froze. That was the sound of metal. Coming from the bathroom.

He bolted down the hall and skidded to a stop just in time to see his one-year-old perched by the toilet, drooling happily while dangling the car keys over the porcelain abyss like a prize sacrifice.

“NOOOO!” Jake dove forward like an action hero in slow motion.

But toddlers were fast. Sneaky fast. His kid looked him dead in the eye, grinned with the evil glee only a one-year-old could muster, and dropped them.

SPLASH.

Jake clutched his head. “OH COME ON! We literally just paid off that car!”

The toddler clapped, clearly delighted with the performance.

Jake threw his hands in the air. “Okay. Don’t panic. Keys don’t flush. Keys are heavier than…than Cheerios.” He crouched down, squinting at the water. Sure enough, there was a faint glimmer down in the curve.

“Alright, buddy. Watch and learn as Daddy executes a very delicate rescue mission.”

He rolled up his sleeve dramatically. “Operation: Save the Keys. Commencing now.”

His kid gasped as if he understood the stakes.

Jake stuck his hand in. The water was cold, which made him yelp like he’d just stepped barefoot on Lego. He flailed for a second, his knee slipping against the tiles. “Nope. Nope. I’ve survived diapers. I can survive this.”

Finally, his fingers snagged metal. “Gotcha!” he shouted, yanking the dripping keyring up like Indiana Jones snatching a relic from a booby trap.

The toddler let out a victorious squeal and clapped as if Dad had just performed the greatest magic trick ever.

Jake held up the keys, panting. “Never—ever—scare me like that again. Do you hear me?”

His kid babbled nonsense, grinned with two tiny teeth, and immediately tried to lunge for the toilet handle.

“OH NO YOU DON’T!” Jake scooped him up like a football, laughing despite himself. “You’re a menace to society. A very adorable, very tiny menace.”

As he carried the wriggling giggler back to the living room, Jake shook his head. “First the toilet. Next time it’ll be the TV remote, or my phone, or—God forbid—Layla.”

The baby shrieked with laughter, as if already planning it.

Jake groaned, but his smile gave him away. Chaos or not, he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Jake had barely sat down with his coffee when he heard it: the clink-clink-clink of metal against porcelain.

He bolted down the hall like a man possessed.

There, in the bathroom, was his one-year-old, gleefully dangling the car keys over the toilet.

“NOOO!” Jake screeched, launching himself across the bathroom like a superhero—coffee still in hand—only to skid on a rogue bath mat and crash into the doorframe.

The keys slipped from the toddler’s chubby fingers. Splash.

Jake’s jaw dropped. “OH MY—NO—NOOOO!”

The toddler squealed, clearly thrilled with the chaos, and attempted to hit the toilet handle. Jake dove again, this time performing what could only be described as an acrobatic wrestling move on a giggling, slippery one-year-old. They toppled into the tub, knocking over shampoo bottles, and Jake ended up soaked from ankle to hairline.

“Operation: Save the Keys is now a code red!” he announced dramatically, clutching a soggy roll of toilet paper like a battle flag.

The keys glinted mockingly from the curve of the toilet. Jake reached in. His hand hit icy water, then…something slimy. “Ew! Ew! Ew!” He yelped, flailing as he tried to grab them without losing grip.

The toddler, seeing Jake’s panicked face, laughed even harder and tried to clap. Water splashed everywhere. A shampoo bottle toppled onto Jake’s head like a tiny, slippery helmet.

Finally, after what felt like an epic battle scene from an action movie, Jake emerged victorious: the keys clasped triumphantly in one hand, toddler dangling safely in the other. He shook the water from his hair, only to realize the bathroom floor had become a small lake.

“Okay… we survive,” he gasped, dripping and shivering. The toddler giggled, thinking this was the best game ever.

Jake surveyed the disaster: shampoo everywhere, toilet water splashed across the tiles, and his dignity somewhere at the bottom of the tub. He shook his head, holding up the keys like a trophy.

“You’re lucky you’re cute. Otherwise, I’d have to call a plumber and a therapist,” he said, trudging out with his tiny chaos agent in tow.

The toddler babbled happily, already plotting the next disaster.

Jake groaned. “Fatherhood: 1. Jake: 0. But hey… at least I still have the keys.”

Jake trudged out of the bathroom, toddler bouncing in his arms like a tiny, giggling wrecking ball. He shook his head, dripping water onto the carpet, and stared at the ceiling.

This is what happens when his mama leaves the baby with him while you attend your Pilates session.

His brain immediately began the paradoxical mental slap-fest:

Slap 1: How did a one-year-old even know the keys existed?

Slap 2: Why did I not put the keys somewhere safe?

Slap 3: Why am I soaked in toilet water while holding the future of my car’s ignition in one hand and a laughing baby in the other?

Slap 4: Is the shampoo bottle laughing at me, too?

Slap 5: I literally pay someone to exercise while this happens.

Each mental slap was faster than the last, leaving him dizzy, soggy, and questioning every life choice that had led him to this exact moment. The toddler, of course, found his panicked, wide-eyed expression hilarious and started kicking his legs like a tiny, very judgmental taiko drum.

Jake groaned, resting his forehead against the wall. “I… I can’t even… How… Why…”

Then he looked down at the baby, who reached for his wet hair with a curious little hand, and for a split second, the absurdity melted into affection.

“Yeah, yeah, you win,” he muttered. “You and your tiny, destructive, adorable chaos.”

Another mental slap pinged him: Mama’s gonna get a full report… and it will be glorious.

Jake sighed, already picturing the text to her: “You left me alone for Pilates. The baby tried to flush the keys. I’m soaked. Send help.”

The toddler giggled, as if approving the official statement.

Jake collapsed onto the couch, keys safely on the counter, baby perched on his chest, both of them soggy, triumphant, and entirely undefeated.

Jake sank into the couch, toddler on his chest, dripping water everywhere, and suddenly his brain went full-on cinematic montage mode:

The baby grabs the remote and smashes it into a vase.

The baby climbs onto the counter and dumps an entire bag of flour like a tiny snowstorm.

The baby discovers the dog’s water bowl and turns it into a fountain.

The baby somehow launches a sippy cup straight into the ceiling fan.

The baby finds the pasta in the pantry and reenacts a slow-motion spaghetti explosion.

The baby… oh no… reaches for the toilet again.

Jake’s internal monologue couldn’t keep up. Why did I think I could do this alone? Why does Pilates seem easier than this? Why am I soaked in water, flour, and fear simultaneously?

The toddler giggled at the mental chaos show in his father’s head, as if narrating: Welcome to my life, Daddy. Enjoy!

Jake groaned, pressing a hand to his face. “Okay. Okay… deep breath… we survive one disaster at a time. One. Disaster. At. A… OH GOD THE TOILET—”

The baby squealed in perfect comedic timing, and Jake knew: this was only the beginning.

Yet somehow, despite the impending chaos, he smiled. Because underneath the soggy, slippery insanity, this was his kid, and he’d never trade the madness for anything.

requested by @deardevilradio | baby taglist<3

@youngheejay @axfyl @jalicecookie @curiousdemonfox @reep04 @m1kkso @thestarinstarbucks @nmurark05 @yuuuraaa @ethanatvre @laylasbunbunny @24svnn @pinkglitterpuke @leilamaybelyla @heeseungsbm @kireistrawberryjayla @heyitsmei06 @saphiranishimurashan @en-cityyy @berryberrystrawbery @rikifever @seonhoon @lhspeachie @randomanothercreature @ro-diaries @ihearteatingxo @la-choiblog @ijustwannareadstuff20 @luvleyylina @celestialen @teddybeartaetae @hoseokteardrop @baeyrah @f4irynono

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