The soft light of morning spilled through the curtains, warming the bed where you lay tangled with Minho. His arm was snug around your waist, his face buried in the crook of your neck. You stirred slightly, and his hold tightened reflexively, as if even in his half-asleep state, he couldn’t bear to let you go. You’d woken up minutes ago, the dull ache in your lower abdomen making itself known like a low, nagging hum. You shift slightly, your back pressing into his chest, and he grumbles a low, sleepy protest, pulling you closer.
“Morning,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your skin with the word.
Before you could say more, he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, then another to the curve of your neck. His lips moved lazily, trailing along your skin as though he couldn’t resist the temptation of each inch.
“Minho,” you whispered, half-laughing.
“Hmm?” he hummed, but his mouth never stopped. He kissed the spot beneath your ear, then down the side of your neck, his fingers grazing your waist where his hand rested.
“Can’t you just say good morning like a normal person?” you teased, your voice soft.
“I did,” he murmured, his lips brushing the words against your collarbone now. “You’re the one who makes me do all this extra work.”
You laughed, a small sound that was quickly swallowed by his next kiss, this one just above your heart. His hand slipped beneath your shirt, his fingers splaying across your stomach as he moved lower, his lips warm against your skin.
“Shh,” he murmurs, his lips brushing over your jawline, his free hand sliding under the hem of your sleep shirt to rest warm and comforting against your waist. “Let me spoil you a little.”
“Minho…” you started again, your fingers threading through his hair as he continued his descent.
“What?” he murmured between kisses, his voice low and teasing.
“I’m on my period.” you said softly, catching his head gently in your hands.
He froze for a second, his lips hovering just above your navel. Slowly, he lifted his head to look at you, his expression a mix of mild disappointment and curiosity. “Really?”
You nodded, your cheeks warm under his gaze.
He blinked once, and then his lips twitched into a smirk. “That’s inconvenient,” he said, tilting his head as if considering something deeply. He leaned forward and pressed another kiss to your stomach. “But I could always make it go away.”
You furrowed your brows, confused. “What do you mean?”
“Kids,” he replied simply, his smirk widening as he continued to kiss his way back up your body.
“Min,” you murmur, your fingers tangling in his hair, but he doesn’t stop.
“I just wanna take care of my wife,” he says against your skin, his voice a mix of mischief and tenderness.
It took a moment for his words to sink in, and when they did, your face went hot.
His laughter was rich and low, his breath brushing your skin as he rested his head against your stomach. He kissed you there, too, just for good measure. He steadies your hip when you move a bit, cramps.
“That bad?” he asks softly, his lips moving against your skin.
“Mm-hmm,” you hum, sinking your hand further into his hair.
“I told you not to eat all that spicy food last night,” he chides gently, though his tone is teasing.
You glare at him,“You’re the one who made it,” you remind him, narrowing your eyes.
He laughs, low and throaty, a little apologetic, the sound vibrating against your back. “Touché.”
“You leave for the military next year,” you say softly, your fingers idly combing through his hair.
He hums, a quiet acknowledgment, but his face remains buried against your waist.
You bite your lip, the words spilling out before you can second-guess them. “I heard South Korean men don’t have to serve if they have three kids.”
He stared at you for a moment longer before his smirk returned. Without warning, he rolled onto his back, then pulled you onto his lap in one smooth motion. His hands settled on your hips, holding you in place as he looked up at you, his gaze playful but intense.
“Three kids in one year?” he repeated, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement. His thumbs brushed slow, teasing strokes over your waist. “Not practical. But…” He tilted his head, his smirk deepening. “We could try for triplets.”
“Baby,” you said again, a little breathless this time.
“Hmm?” He hummed against your skin, his hands tightening gently on your waist.
“Three kids…” You hesitated, the thought suddenly lighter, almost playful. “It doesn’t seem so bad.”
He leaned back just enough to look at you, his brow lifting. “Oh?”
“Yeah,” you said, trying to keep a straight face. “Three kids minimum, right? Triplets, as you said.”
He threw his head back with a laugh. His hands slid to your hips, gripping them firmly as he moved you gently against him. “You’re really committed to this plan, huh?”
“Just saying,” you teased, your smile softening as his laughter faded into a hum of contentment.
He leaned up, capturing your lips in another kiss, slow and lingering this time. “Fine,” he murmured against your mouth. “Triplets it is.”
jacobvanloon
gummygunk
stormborns
