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#and he was like 'the idea is so fucking awful that i'm tearing up just thinking about it' :'(
privitivium · 1 month
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ok but how about a dom reader whos always busy (workaholic and shi) x an always clingy n touchy sub yan.
like. reader is never at home. and when he finally come back ends up doesn't paying that much attention to yan, sayin 'im too tired' or going to his home office. eventually being followed by yan cause omfg poor boy is basically starving for a little bit of attention. he still declines yan's pleadings tho
then one day this man shows up earlier and completely EAGER for his yan. idk what more can i say. breeding? degradation? daddy kink? dumbification? what could happen when theyre feeling so fucking needy for each other?
(also i love your writing so so much!!!!!!! <3
workaholic male reader, clingy sub yandere ^ rambles. euugh
dumbification works w either imo, reader fucking lover til hes stupid while simultaneously fucking his lover stupid?!
amab//domtop reader/subbot yandere, cw;; breeding, daddy kink, dumbification xd wanna rework this into a more ,,, eloquent fic. soon. have been busy. i really liked this idea so. will do on my own soon.
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workaholic you, growing super distant… obviously making your lover paranoid. because what if you're cheating on him? you aren't, of course - he knows that, but he cant stop those kinds of thoughts from popping into his mind…!!! humping your pillow to ease himself while ur at work, watching the camera feed of you in your office… sigh…. often hearing the dreaded words accompanied by a soft simple pat on his back - not even a kiss... "sorry... please, baby, not right now. i'm too tired." he sobs himself to sleep, knowing you're only providing for him,,,, it hurts!!!
all his worries wash away when you arrive home earlier than usual! concerned, but all the more happy to see you appear in the doorway of your home… breathing ragged, looking all dark and mysterious,,,, the mere sight of you looking all deranged makes him hot and bothered. ignoring the way his dick twitches to life, uhmㅡ
"honey? why are you home so early, sweetheart?” draping himself across your front in a very affectionate hug. he couldnt help himself-! and, much to his delight you were not pushing him awayㅡand practically throwing yourself onto him?!?! hh..h.hh...
there you were,,, grasping his face in your hands, pressing your lips against his so hungrilyㅡ “i need youㅡneed you. need you.” expressing your apparent neediness over and over as you bury your face in the crook of his neck ㅡ he was startled, but so fucking eager to comply? feeling the way your boner presses against him? you were that eager for him just as he is you???,,,,, he nearly faints. tearing up with a now raging erectionㅡ “please, baby, i need you - i need you reallyㅡreally badly-” so fucking happy as he completely smothers you in his love,,,
you don't need to tell him twice,,, throwing the front door closed…,,, leading him to the bedroom, covering his face in kissesㅡeven when there was a perfectly good couch right there to make love on. he won't complain,,,, hes gotten used to the null feeling of toys...,,, so, feeling the very loving embrace of your dick filling him up overstimulates him rather.,,, quickly!!! thinking about how truly awful you are to neglect this pretty litte thing, how could you? so, so very awful.
your darling little lover sobbing on your cock… he's so beautiful - experiencing his love and affection for the first time in forever? berating yourself for being so distant,,, pouring all your frustration at yourself into his flexing taut hole,,,, “mm-misssed you… s-so mu-uch daddy-!” he doesn't seem to catch what he just moaned… too drunk on the feeling of your cock pistoning in and out of him - it feels otherwordly?!
and, i mean. going along with it. with ease, because he deserves everything. especially, anything for your darling lover who just wants affection, your love!!! laughing breathlessly as you piston your hips against his, nuzzling your nose into the side of his head - peppering his face in kisses, “daddy's right here, sweet thing - n-never leaving again, y'hear?” it was… a little odd, but fitting. afterall, you're pumping load after load - breeding him. obviously you'd be the daddy in this situation…,,,,
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markiecake · 2 months
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🍰
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warnings/ tags: smut (MINORS DNI !!!), soft dom! mark (ofc), fem! reader, breeding kink, cum basically used as lube (not explicitly stated but you'll get it), squirting, pet names (angel, baby), overstimulation, mark has so much stamina it's actually ridiculous
thinkin bout mark who HAS to cum inside every single time he fucks you 😵‍💫 at least once, if not multiple times !!
you swear he's been fucking you for a solid hour, if not longer, but he is showing absolutely no signs of letting up.
his forearms were resting on either side of your head as he placed kisses to your neck.
"i know, baby, i know," he breathed out as you whined underneath him, "taking it so well for me."
your pussy is leaking with a mix of his cum and your own, only amplifying the squelching noises, and your embarrassment :,(
moans and whimpers of "markie" and "please" were all that was leaving your mouth, which was quickly hushed by mark's lips on yours.
"so close, angel, just a little longer." he whispered against your lips, but you had lost count of how many times he had said that to be honest. his stamina is crazy i'm so sure of it !!!!
every thrust made you twitch with overstimulation. your neck was covered in hickies and bites, and your chin was covered in spit.
he's fucking you within an inch of your life, for sure. he speeds up his thrusts if thats even possible, and he's breathing out heavily into your ear.
your brain was fuzzy, your jaw was slack; you were literally the definition of cum drunk 😵‍💫
i just KNOW mark is so pretty when he cums :,( a mix of groans, moans and maybe even whines, his eyes screwed shut, burying his face into your neck JSJSJJJS 😞
and TRUST, he cums so much ! even after his previous orgasms, he will literally give you every last drop like his life depends on it i swear.
his abdomen was wet from the amount of times you had cum as well. he's still a pleasure dom at the end of the day !!!
even after just cumming, mark still keeps fucking you through his own overstimulation to make you cum one last time :,)
you end up making a mess of yourself, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you squirt all over him !!!! the duvet and sheets of the bed beneath you are thoroughly soaked, and mark just leans back and watches in awe.
after you've stopped, he pulls away from you, only to look at the mess on your pussy. you whine out when you feel his fingers pushing back in his multiple loads of cum. he's so obsessed with the idea of you being full of him all the time :(
he climbs back up over you so his face is hovering above yours and kisses away the stray tears on your cheeks.
"so full," you whimper.
"i know," he coos at you, " but we wouldn't wanna waste any, right, baby?"
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genshin-obsessed · 4 months
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Could I request Diluc, Kaeya, and Zhongli trying their hardest -and failing- not to cry after their wife, due to being tired and frustrated during an argument, wonders if they should get divorced because she thinks she's tying them down?
Ooh, ok, I need to sleep BUT the chance to write angst? sleep can wait! I wasn't entirely sure how to end it so I just left it like this. I'm sure this could be much, much longer but I didn't wanna make it too long, yanno? meant as a fem!reader but I don't mentions pronouns, just the term 'wife'.
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▻ Kaeya
He didn't really know when the argument started. He didn't know what it was about anymore either. It was one of those arguments where the points end up getting lost and you're just yelling at one another about something completely unrelated. Honestly, you two were basically screaming at one another. But then he heard that one, awful sentence he never wanted to hear in his life.
"Why don't we just get a divorce and I won't be ruining your life anymore!?" Suddenly, the room's so eerily quiet that you finally realized what you said. Your gaze held Kaeya's and you watched as his usual cocky exterior just melt and tears fill his beautiful eyes. He slapped the back of his hand against his lips to stop but he couldn't. Your words shook him to his core and every thought in his mind was wiped away.
At some point, he didn't even register you trying to calm him down as he fell to his knees, tears flooding down his face. He didn't even register as he wrapped his arms around you in a near death grip, begging for you to stay.
He loved you, adored you, cherished you, worshipped you basically. So... wherever did you get this idea that you were tying him down? That you were ruining his life? Just where did he end up going wrong for you to have such awful thoughts?
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▻ Diluc
Often talking to Diluc was something that was a little touch and go. He didn't talk much and when he did, he usually only talked enough to get the point across and that was it. Even during arguments, Diluc only spoke when he felt it was necessary. To avoid pointless yelling matches, he kept quiet until you were done.
But tonight was... different. Maybe it was a hard day for him, maybe it was something you said, maybe it was that he had a frustrating spat with Kaeya, or maybe that he was dealing with issues at the tavern... but tonight, Diluc was just as angry as you. You two were yelling so much that even the maids heard you outside of the manor. There was no end in sight.
"Then leave, Diluc! Leave me and you can be happy doing whatever you want! I won't be here to tie you down anymore and you can be a free fucking bird!" Diluc opened his mouth to retaliate but nothing came out. It was like the world stopped moving for a second. This uncomfortable pit grew in his stomach and he just knew it was bad. You thought you were tying him down? Never once did such an atrocious thought ever cross his mind. Never during an argument, never during a bad day, not once in his life.
So... why did you? Diluc didn't realize just how much he hated the silence until that moment. He hated it so much, that the tears he attempted to bury just burst out in a loud cry. Anything to stop that deafening silence.
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▻ Zhongli
Zhongli was by far, the worst person to argue with. Why? He just sat there silently until you were done. Zhongli didn't argue, no. He waited, listened, then just explained his side. If it didn't work, he'd step away. But even an archon such as himself had limits. Your arguments never turned into screaming matches, at least not on his end, but sometimes they dragged on.
Today was just one such day. Even with his near impeccable memory, the man couldn't recall what happened to lead you two here. You were so upset and angry and no matter what he did, he made it worse. Truth be told, he was angry and frustrated too. It was like neither of you were listening to each other anymore.
"Well, if it's all pointless then why don't we just quit now?! Let's just get a divorce and you can go on happily without a wife to just drag you down!" That's when everything just stopped. Zhongli slowly looked away as he registered the words, feeling his chest begin to constrict.
Why... did you say that? Why would you think that? Was that his fault? You figure began to blur and he fell to his knees, desperately grabbing the dining table for support. You were at his side and tried to calm him down, desperately trying to wipe his tears but anything you said after just... didn't touch him. The awful reality of his life had his heart in a death grip and he could only listen if he got away from it.
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writingouthere · 5 months
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neighbor!Sukuna x singlemom!reader, you go to check out a potential apartment and Sukuna joins because he is very helpful. Longest one yet so strap in!
cw:Sukuna waving his red flag like a matador while you do your best SZA impression
Sukuna thought you seemed more stressed than usual when he got home. You still talked through dinner and entertained your daughter but he could tell something was weighing on you. While Bug chased some very melted ice cream around her bowl with her spoon, he brought over some dishes to where you had already started washing the pans you'd used to make dinner.
"Thought I was responsible for the dishes since you made dinner," he reminded you, gently nudging you out the way.
"It's really not a bother and besides, you're already doing us such a big favor, letting us stay here," you said and you sounded a little choked up at the end which made him turn the water off so he could give you his full attention.
"How many times do I have to tell you I don't mind?" He couldn't help some frustration edging into his tone which only made you look sadder. He sighed and dried his hands on the towel, a new addition you had gotten, it was covered in sunflowers and it reminded him of you every time he used it.
"What's going on, you seem off today?"
You hesitated and he put his hand on your shoulder. He preened when you put your smaller hand on top of his and squeezed before giving you his full attention.
"I-I went to go see an apartment today and it was just awful." Sukuna barely fixed his face in time for you to look up at him. He had no idea you were even looking at other places. You'd barely been at his place a month and he had thought you had a good routine going on. You both split the household responsibilities and you spent your time not working together. He picked up your daughter twice a week now from daycare and took over Sunday mornings so you had some time to yourself. Someone at the grocery store had cooed over your adorable family and you hadn't even corrected them.
Obviously, you still weren't getting it and Sukuna reminded himself that it wasn't your fault. It was still like pulling teeth to get you to talk about your ex and honestly what he'd heard about your family hadn't really impressed him either. You had been taking care of yourself for far too long and it only made sense that you would be worried about being a burden on him when other people had made you feel like that rather than seeing caring for you as the privilege it was.
"Why was the apartment so awful?"
You bit your lip and he felt some concern that wasn't related to you potentially leaving. "What?"
"It was the usual, you know. It was over my budget and it was too small, I mean Bug is getting bigger every day, she needs her own room too. Then the building looks like it's only days away from collapsing and the guy who showed it, I mean he was just such a creep."
"Creep, how?"
You sighed and squeezed his hand again, but he wasn't sure if it was for your sake or you were trying to calm him down since he was sure his anger was obvious.
"It doesn't matter-
"Of course it matters, you're trying to find a home for you and your kid and some guy is making you feel uncomfortable in the space you might end up living-"
"-well I'm not going to live there, so. Doesn't matter," you say stubbornly and Sukuna hums but doesn't argue.
It's clear this is weighing on you, and while Sukuna has no intention of you moving out, unless it's him along with you, he figures this is a two birds one stone situation. Because fuck him if he was going to let you wander around the city being harassed by some dumb fucks who thought they could take advantage of a single mom.
"Are you seeing any other places," he asked and you bit your lip.
"Well, there was this one other place but after today I'm not sure-"
"Let me go with you," he said and you looked up at him and well, with the tears just beginning to fill your eyes and the little glimmer of hope he could see peaking out, how could he do anything but assure you. "Let me go with you and you can look around the place without worrying about anyone bothering you. Besides, it would make me feel better if I could scope out the place you and Bug might be moving to. I want to make sure you'll be safe."
Of course, you two would be safe because you would be with him but whatever got him to the showing.
"What about Bug?"
"Yuuji can watch her. He's been dying to babysit since he met her."
This was true. Sukuna's brother was suspicious, rightfully, of Sukuna and his intentions towards you, but Bug's cuteness was a great distraction whenever the three of them were together.
"Okay, okay. Tomorrow, could he watch her tomorrow?"
"Let me call, him. Don't worry, I'll take care of you, okay?"
You nodded and Bug started calling for you both. You went over to give your toddler the attention she clearly wanted while Sukuna finished the dishes and thought over how he would handle this situation tomorrow.
-------------------------------------------
The next day, Yuuji showed up bright and early with the two idiots that were always with him these days. Sukuna rather liked the Fushiguro kid but the woman that was always with him still got on his last damn nerve. Her and Yuuji together were a threat to decency laws and his fucking eardrums.
"Morning! Where is my precious baby girl," Yuuji cooed stepping in as if he still lived there as Fushiguro gave him a quick nod and Kugisaki walked in without even a hello.
"She's not your baby," Sukuna said, shutting the door a little harder than necessary.
"Well, she isn't your baby either, so."
Before Sukuna could literally murder his brother, you came out with Bug on your hip.
"Uji!!" Your daughter loved Yuuji and you put her down so she could run over and greet her favorite uncle.
"Thank you so much for watching her," you said grabbing your purse off the counter. "Are these your friends from school?"
The two freeloaders introduced themselves while Yuuji started flying your daughter around like he was a plane. At least your daughter would be tired by the time you two got back.
"Let's get going, we got to get there by nine," Sukuna said, putting his hand on the small of your back and directing you towards the door. There were several loud calls of good-bye and good lucks as you two shut the door and made your way to the car.
When you get to the apartment, the super is waiting at the front door of the building. Sukuna sees him shoot you a smarmy grin that abruptly drops off when he takes Sukuna in.
"Good morning miss, I wasn't aware you were bringing your...."
"Partner," Sukuna states firmly and holds out his hand. "Pleasure," he says, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. You only look on in amusement as the fucker shakes his hand and then turns his eyes back on you, much more subdued than he'd been at first.
"Right, so the apartment is on the fourth floor. A walk-up but good way to stay in shape..."
He drones on as you and Sukuna follow behind.
"You cannot carry a stroller up four flights of stairs," he says in a tone that the super can definitely hear. "Bug also can't walk up four flights of stairs, especially after a whole day of daycare. Besides these stairs look like they might crumble and drop you to the fucking basement at any second." You smack his arm and the super looks pissed off until Sukuna stomps on a particularly wobbly stair for emphasis and he looks a little nervous. No way he was letting Bug walk up this deathtrap.
He keeps a running commentary of everything he sees, none of it good on the way to the apartment. The cracks in the ceiling, the chipped the paint, the flickering light on the third floor stairwell that makes him feel like they stepped into an 80's slasher flick. On and on he goes and he doesn't stop once they're in the shithole apartment itself.
A one bedroom, not nearly enough space for two, definitely not three which makes him even more irritated at the fact he clearly hadn't factored in at all to the choice in apartment.
He's in the middle of guessing outloud if the shower head would fall on top of you in the first week or the second when you snap.
"I know it's a piece of shit, Sukuna. I'm not an idiot, I'm desperate." You are more irritated than he's ever seen and the fucking creep of a super shoots him a smirk before Sukuna turns the full force of his glare on him. The man mumbles out something about giving them time to take in the space and leaves them alone, the door closing firmly in his haste.
"I don't think you're an idiot," Sukuna says, more calm than he feels because he definitely feels a type of way about all of this. "I just don't think this place is right for you or Bug. Do you expect me to apologize for caring?"
"Is that what this is? You come here to help me and all you've done is shit on the apartment and scare that poor man half to death."
"That poor man was fucking makes eyes at you until he saw me behind you."
"I know, but he got the point when you squeezed his hand so tight I think one of his knuckles popped!"
Sukuna snorted at that and even you seemed a little amused. You sighed and leaned against the wall behind you.
"I can't live with you forever Sukuna, we need a home."
Sukuna wanted to scream, to shake you and say that he was your home. Home for both of you but he knew you weren't ready to hear it and that if he misstepped you might end up living somewhere that seemed a strong breeze away from collapse.
"It's not forever," he finally said and this was true. You would need a new place soon, just not this place. "When I say I don't mind, I mean that I like having the two of you with me." You seemed a little surprised by this admission and Sukuna weighs his next words carefully.
"You're my friend and I care about you even if I have an unconventional way of showing you." You scoff and Sukuna presses on, he can see you softening. "Just wait a little longer. This place isn't good enough for the two of you but another place might be. I'd rather you stay with me longer and find the right place instead of rushing and choosing somewhere shitty because you think you're putting me out or something."
"What guy wants some mom and her kid crashing with him for months on end," you ask and you seem almost genuinely curious.
"You're not some mom, you're you and I happen to really like that kid." You smile and Sukuna knows he's got you. "I mean as we speak she's probably putting Yuuji and his loser friends through the ringer and that's reason enough to keep her around."
"You think anything will be broken by the time we get home," you ask and he feels the clump of blood and flesh that makes up his heart squeeze just a little tighter. Home.
"Oh, definitely but that's why we're not paying them for their services." You laugh and Sukuna walks a little closer to you. You watch him, a little confused but he thinks he sees some anticipation too as he closes in on your space and puts a hand on your cheek. He leans in and he knows he's not making it up that your eyelids flutter as he gets closer.
It's tempting but when Sukuna kisses you for the first time, it's not going to be in a place like this while some scumbag is probably listening through the door.
"Let's go home," he says and he presses a gentle kiss against your cheek. You'd done the same to him many times by now and he can see the appeal when he hears your sharp intake of breath and finds himself surrounded by the smell of your shampoo.
While your quest to find an apartment was unsuccessful, Sukuna thinks that important progress was made today. It fills him with a sense of contentment that manages to sustain him even as the two of you come home to an apartment overflowing with chaos and a spiderweb of cracks across his tv.
When he goes to kick Yuuji's ass, Bug makes sure to lend her support to her poor uncle by clinging to Sukuna's leg and laughing while the two men roll around on the floor to your amusement.
Like he would ever let you leave this.
also people have been suggesting that I make a masterlist or create some sort of tags and while I know what these are(kind of), I'm also not sure the specifics so any advice on how to make this all easier to find would be appreciated! I've been creeping on tumblr for literally over a decade but never written like this before.
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luveline · 7 months
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PLEASE IM BEGGING I WILL SELL MY FAMILY FIR THIS
More flirty bombshell reader but Spencer was just let out of prison and now instead of just getting all hot and bothered he flirts back 😼
Love you and your writing pooks 😏😚🫶🏾
love you! fem, 1.1k
This has been the longest eighty four days of your life. Not even three months apart and yet it's felt as long and arduous as three years, and so you do what you must on the day Spencer is released from Milburn; you take your time putting yourself back together, preening and polishing, as pretty as you've ever looked. 
Penelope looks good too, JJ as well. The girls are here to represent, and that's without mentioning Luke's general unbelievable physique. 
You're pissed at being left outside but you can manage. You can cope. You don't think Penelope, bless her huge heart, is going to fight you for Spencer's attention. Not for a good five seconds. What to say first? I miss you, I love you, I'm so fucking sorry I let this happen, that I couldn't do more. 
He appears behind a grate door, Luke at his side. Then the grate is opening, JJ with tears in her eyes behind him, and every idea of what to do goes out the window. 
Your breath catches before he's so much as touched you. 
"Hey," you say. It starts well, ends weak, tears in your eyes as you choke, "hey, handsome." 
"Hey," he says, hugging you with more care than you're expecting. "Oh my god, hey." He lets out a sigh of relief, his face dipping down to press against your shoulder. You feel the familiar curve of his nose and hold your breath to stop from crying.
You let him go a selfish ten seconds later, but Spencer keeps your hand as he hugs Penelope, one-armed. It's awful and selfish and you don't care, you go in for the second hug on tiptoes, arms behind his neck, your mouth pressed as high as you can reach on his face. A mess of lip gloss is left behind when they finally crowbar you off of him long enough to get in the car, and even then you're clinging to his hand, worried someone will take him again, that you won't be able to do a thing about it. 
You wrap your arms around his and hug him on the drive back. You can't stop looking up into his face. Spencer, unflinching, meets you there, his eyes a little glassy, his face sallow but getting better. 
"Missed me?" you ask quietly. You've only so much privacy. 
"So much." 
"Like a hole in the head?" 
Spencer leans down an inch. "No, like, I really missed you." 
"Of course you did, you–" Spencer leans down suddenly and disarms you, his breath warm against your cheek. 
"I what?" he asks, kissing your cheek. 
"You haven't been away from me that long in years," you breathe. 
"It took getting used to," he says agreeably, speaking low, his breath hotter still as he kisses upward. Two kisses, that's all they are, but when he sits straight again you're thrown. 
"But you got used to it?" 
"No," he says, smiling at you like you've made a funny joke rather than thinly veiled insecurity spoken in a desperate attempt to garner some reassurance. 
It was difficult coping with the hurt of his having left you in the dark. You knew he was doing something he shouldn't have been, but you never for a moment imagined this outcome. You worried (deep down, and not for his ears) that he'd met someone new, that he'd grown disinterested in your years of love and life. Of you. Especially as he's matured, which is to say he stopped looking like he was about to walk the stage at New York Fashion week and started dressing sharp as a tack. Your Spencer stayed yours, but he got older, and you did too —you look older. You're still yourself, high maintenance, prideful, sweet, but you're not the same. 
Between the distance that bloomed with his secrecy and his growing maturity, you were caught off guard. And then not long after he was arrested in Mexico and you couldn't get him out no matter what you did, or who you begged for help. 
Spencer brings his hand to your cheek, tilting your head one way slowly, and then the other. There's confidence in his touch that you've felt before, just never to this extent. 
What happened to you? you think. 
"I'm sorry," he says. 
"For what, sweetheart?" you ask, meaning it implicitly. He's your sweetheart. He's everything. You're too high on his return to want an apology. 
"For everything. I'm so sorry. I'll make it up to you." 
There's something you can work with. "Oh, you will?"
"I promise." 
Mindful of your friends in the front seats, you press your cheek into his hand, turning your head just enough to touch your lips to his palm. His eyes are dark brown where they meet yours, pupil and iris one and the same. "How?" you murmur. 
Spencer brushes his thumb against your bottom lip. Something in his eyes speaks even as he stays quiet, a light, an amusement, as if to say, I know exactly what you're doing, but it won't work. 
I'm not a saint, you say back with a sheepish smile. You close your eyes and let your head fall into his shoulder. He hugs you close despite the lack of room, his chin landing atop your head gently. "You'll have to try harder," he whispers. 
"Don't know what you mean." 
"Months of missing you and the first thing you do is try to torture me." 
"That's our thing." 
"No, our thing is me worshipping the ground you walk on," he says into your hair, hand squeezing as it roves up your arm, reassuring himself that you're there, that you're real. 
"Like I wouldn't do the same if you'd let me. I would've done anything." He probably can't hear you anymore, your voice a suggestion of sound. "I would've done anything if I thought it would…" get you back to me.
Spencer does you a favour of ignoring you. Later, you know he'll bring it up again. You'll have time, because he's going home. For now he does his best to hold you together in the company of others, always thinking about what you need. "You look so pretty today. Is that for me?" 
"I always look pretty." You haven't felt it lately.
"I know. Maybe it's because I didn't see you for so long… It's like seeing you again for the first time." 
Your chest aches in a strangely nice way. "And how are you coping, handsome?" 
He rests his cheek on your forehead. On paper, you're flirting. In actuality, you're being one hundred percent honest with each other. "I'm not. My blood pressure has gotta be 180 over 110 right now."
"I love it when you talk medical to me." 
"I love you." 
You nose at his suit sleeve ineffectually "I love you." 
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b1rds3ye · 9 months
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hi!! this is my first time doing a request so idk if I'm doing this right haha but uh, I was wondering if you could do like. yknow the masked one you made for the 141 (I can't remember the name rn💔)? I thought of like, a sequel idea. like, what if during combat an enemy manages to take reader's mask, and so reader panics and like, rips the enemies throat out with their teeth (or if that's too violent, just goes basically rabid on them lmao) and how they would react?? if this is too violent or specific dw you don't have to!! anyways, I love your content it's totally awesome ur writing is amazing! have a good day!!
YES I LOVE THE BADASSERY AND THE UNHINGEDNESS!! If I'm your first request I'm so flattered anon pls do feel free to drop by again <333 Also just going to do general rabidness because ngl the throat thing sounds like an infection speedrun and we want our masked reader to stay nice and healthy <333
Word Count: 1.2 (it got a little long WHOOPS)
Warning: Canon typical violence, reader does get a lil sadistic and unhinged <333
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Beyond Task Force 141 and Laswell, many - if not all - allied soldiers wondered about what lay under your mask. Obscuring even the eyes, your visage was more unreadable than Ghost's. Larger than life, a soldier among men.
There was a running joke that there was just nothing under your mask, perhaps an eldritch horror of sorts. You let the new recruits entertain the thought, it kept morale up as they conjured more myths of you. They said that no one has seen you without your mask. They were partially right.
It simply was that no one lived to tell the tale.
You were never one for close combat, but fighting terrorists was never smooth sailing. The chaos of battle had all of the 141 separated against the tight streets of Las Almas. How uncanny that you could not see your allies but hear their gunfire. Running out of ammo, you couldn't lament at your misfortune as a shoulder pummeling into your chest, sending you to the ground and the air out of your lungs. Head bashing against the floor you groaned as you furiously clawed up to whatever heavy weight was crushing your body. You were starting to make up the figure of a man hovering over you through the blurry haze of a concussion that filled your sight. The distant static of Price's voice through the radio, probably asking where the hell were you but you had more pressing issues at hand.
Through your struggle and flailing limbs you managed to wring the enemy's pistol off of them with a painful twist of their wrist. And they retaliated tenfold, a large sweaty hand reaching down and pressing your head back against the ground. Your adrenaline makes you writhe further, he was going to suffocate you, or worse, poison you with how fucking awful his hand smelt as the stink of burning gunpowder replaced any of your oxygen. But no, he committed a far worse crime.
A singular pull and the grating tear of fabric as your mask is pulled off of your face.
A heavy moment where your enemy looks down at you and his gaze is not like before. It's clear, it's deep. It is not looking at your facade but at you and you are no longer a soldier. You are merely a human, so fragile, so weak. One that is on the verge of death in a foreign land surrounded by bodies of fallen comrades and enemies alike. One whose mythos is all but lost at the victorious and leering smirk of an enemy as they take in your face.
That simply won't do.
Pulling your knee up to create space between you and the man, you pull out your tactical knife from your waist and drive it into his torso. His smile falls only to land at settle on yours below him, just like his blood that trickles as forbidden crimson down your hands and seeps into your uniform. It's disgustingly warm. He grows heavier as he loses all control over his body and you heave to throw his figure off to the side. You stab him once again for good measure. And then again. And again. Quick, short jabs down with a sharpened blade that cuts through uniform, flesh and bone alike. You did not count how many times you drove your blade down, numbers were too complex when your mind was running faster than any comprehensible speed. There was only one goal. To make sure no one knows what happened.
A harsh grip on the shoulder yanks you back up and you swipe with your armed limb to cut your new assailant's neck but they were onto you. Catching your arm, they pull it up as they hold onto your shoulder once again with a tightening grip that digs into your uniform. But they do nothing more, no matter how much you thrash and kick.
"Wake up, Sergeant," your opponent seethes and that voice makes you still, a buoy that floats across through your rage. Deep and grounding and your captain's.
You nearly stumble back but Price catches you before you crumple to the ground in exhaustion. The adrenaline was escaping your body leaving you with barely the energy to stay upright. Your head lolls back for a second before you bring it to the side to look at your direct superior, the remnants of a concussion making your vision blurry.
"You broken?" he asks.
"Negative, sir,” you respond immediately but he looks a little doubtful, a singular eyebrow raised as he inspects you. Not your body, but your face. The dilated pupils and the taut muscles told more than any wound.
"Can't say the same about your wee friend over there," Soap whistles as he tilts his head to behind you. “Christ, you did a number on him.”
You dare turn to look over your shoulder but Ghost already situated himself in front of the body. But between his feet you could already make out the indistinguishable mass of tattered fabric and discoloured flesh. Fresh blood filled the rivets between the cobblestones, the remnants of the body inching its way closer to you-
"Was it the mask?" Simon brings your attention back to him. You nod dumbly. He only dips his head in what you can only describe as understanding as he folds his arms, fortifying his stance in front of the mess you made. You weren’t going to see your handiwork, he was too kind to ever let you.
John drops his hands down to his sides as Gaz approaches you with your mask.
"Remind me to never get on your bad side," Kyle offers you a sympathetic smile.
"Learnt that the first day I saw 'em on duty," Johnny retorts and you instinctively smile as you take your mask from Kyle. The hardened plaster of your mask had cracked, the fabric that hugged your neck had become torn but it'll do for the remainder of the mission. Slipping the mask back on, Simon offers a nod of approval while Johnny tugged at the fabric for a few finishing touches.
Ultimately the mission was successful. The task force returns to base and although none of the boys mentioned the carnage you left, there are still whispers of it on base. You had hurried to debrief and get your mask fixed but it seemed some privates caught sight of you and that was enough to spark rumours. Your mask had gotten so fractured that a shard was left back in the streets of Las Almas and revealed one of your eyes to the rest of the world. Such a small organ but so vivid. The privates saw, and more was added to the myth that was you. There was now no question about what was under the mask. No lovecraftian horror or empty space, no monster beyond comprehension. No, what was under your mask was terrifyingly human.
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Masked Reader Masterlist Call of Duty Masterlist
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fic idea!! ethan and y/n had a fight but she ended up on her knees sucking him to make it up to him.
they had to quickly go back to school because they all eat lunch with chad tara etc.
ethan has his hand on her thigh as they all talk and laugh, but y/n is still horny after that incredible bj.
he teases her, caresses her thigh, hand going up under her skirt, only slightly brushing against her panties. *with pleasing eyes she whispers* "Please ethan ill be quiet i promise"
he ends up fingering her under the table. bonus if she stops him before orgasming because she knows she'll be too loud and they end up fucking in an empty classroom next to the lunch tables
HI!
I absolutely loved this idea! I hope you like it!💕
Alone Together - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader
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This contains SMUT - Minors DNI
Summary: After a fight with Ethan, you make it up to him. It unfortunately leads to you being a horny mess until he finally takes care of you.
Contains: Angst-ish?, Oral - m receiving, fingering, semi-public sex acts, spanking, unprotected sex but like...pulling out lmao. (If I missed anything, let me know:)
A/N: Dude I'm so close to 500 followers, and I want to write something HUGE for it once I get there. 🥹
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You and Ethan rarely argued, but after something simple turned into the first major fight of the relationship, you felt so awful that it got to the point that it did. It all started after you told Ethan about the boy that sat beside you in class, and mentioned how he asked you for your number to talk about assignments. Ethan thought that was the stupidest excuse to get a girl’s number, but you were a little oblivious and didn’t think there were any other intentions, so you did end up giving the guy your number. Ethan got angrier the more you tried to downplay it, and he even started to question what your intentions were.
Once he’d had enough of the conversation, he stormed out. He needed to calm down, because he was so close to saying things that he didn’t mean. As hurt as he felt, he didn’t want to hurt you.
After Ethan didn’t talk to you for the rest of the day, he showed up to your dorm after his morning class. He was hoping the two of you could talk it out, because he did love you, regardless of how irritated he was.
“Hey,” you said, once you’d opened the door for him. You were trying to fight off your tears as soon as you saw him, so he pulled you into a hug.
“I’m sorry I left yesterday, but I was just so mad,” Ethan said, as his hands ran across your back. “I don’t want anyone else to think they can have you.”
“Do you want to break up?” you asked against his chest, as he chuckled.
“I love you too much to do that,” he sighed, “But I’m not going to lie, it hurt my feelings that you just gave your number out like that. I was starting to think that you wanted him to text you.”
“What?” you asked, pulling away to look at him. “You think I’d want to be with someone else?”
“I never did before yesterday,” he said, “Maybe I’m just a little insecure.”
“And a little possessive,” you mumbled, as he leaned down to kiss you.
You knew that Ethan loved you but seeing him get so mad and upset over someone trying to move in on what was his, it showed you how deep his feelings were for you. The simple kiss quickly turned into something more as his hands roamed your body and his tongue moved across your bottom lip. You gasped into his mouth once his hand moved underneath the skirt you were wearing, his hand massaging your ass as he started to back you towards your bed.
“Wait,” you said, as you pulled away. “We don’t have a lot of time for make-up sex.”
“Fuck, I forgot about lunch,” Ethan groaned, running his hand through his hair. “I’m going to be hard for the rest of the day thinking about you.”
“I think I know something that’ll help you,” you said, as you sank to your knees in front of him.
You rubbed your hand over his jeans, smiling once you felt how hard he was for you. You unbuttoned them and slid them down his hips as his eyes stayed on you.
“Are you sure we have time for this?” he asked, as you giggled to yourself.
“You know it doesn’t take me long to make you cum.”
He groaned at your words as you slid his boxers down, and you grabbed his cock as it stood at attention in front of your face. You looked up at him as you leaned in, taking his pink tip past your lips as you swirled your tongue over it.
“Fuck, baby,” he said, as his hand ran across your cheek to rest in your hair.
You were inching him in your mouth as you started to bob your head, taking more of him every time. He groaned at the feeling as your cheeks hollowed, his hand that was loosely resting in your hair gripping it tighter. Once you got to the point that you were gagging around him, your mouth getting even more wet, he started to praise you. “You make me feel so good.” “That’s it, baby. You can take it.” “Fuck, your mouth is so perfect.”
All the things he was saying to you had your core throbbing, because it turned you on so much to make him feel that good. You moved your hand up and down what you couldn’t take, as he whimpered at the feeling. Your hand moved with your mouth, his entire cock getting the attention it needed as he struggled to keep his fluttering eyes on yours. You didn’t look away, though. You loved seeing him like this. The way his breathing got heavier, the rosy tint to his cheeks, the way his head was starting to roll back.
“Fuck, gonna cum,” he panted, as you hummed around him.
His hand was tugging on your hair, the feeling making you moan around him as his eyes screwed shut, a low moan slipping past his lips as the salty liquid coated your taste buds. You bobbed your head a few more times, a lot slower than you had been going because you didn’t want him to get over stimulated, until you slid him out of your mouth, a sweet smile on your lips as he looked down at you.
“I’m definitely not mad at you anymore,” he said with a smile, as his breathing started to return to normal. “Come here, baby.”
He reached down for you to grab his hands as he helped you to your feet before he pulled you into his chest.
“Now I’m the one that gets to be a horny mess all day,” you said, as he ran his hands over your hips.
“Oh, I’ll take care of you later…you won’t be able to walk when I’m done with you.”
Whenever Ethan told you that, he meant it. The idea of him having you in all the positions and him eating it out until you couldn’t take it anymore had your head spinning. You almost wish he hadn’t told you that, because it was all you were going to be able to think about as you tried to make it through the rest of your day.
As you sat at lunch across from Tara and Chad, you were hoping that the conversation would distract you from the not-so-innocent thoughts you were having about your boyfriend.
“Did your boyfriend tell you about what happened to him yesterday?” Chad asked you, as you turned to look at Ethan.
“No…what happened?”
“So he’d just came back from showering, and I came back to our dorm earlier than I was supposed to. He didn’t realize I was there until I said something once he dropped his towel,” Chad said, cracking up as Ethan’s cheeks started to turn bright red. “He fucking screamed, dude. Like, high-pitched and everything.”
You and Tara started to giggle as you thought about it, and it was getting to the point that you couldn’t look at your boyfriend, because you knew you’d only laugh harder.
“Hey, I had a lot going on yesterday. I didn’t expect you to be there,” Ethan said, as Chad wiped a few tears off his cheeks from laughing so hard. He turned to look at you, shaking his head once he noticed how hard you were trying to keep it together. That’s when you felt his hand brush against your thigh before he squeezed it. A strained moan slipped past your lips at the feeling, as he tried to feign innocence. “You okay, babe?”
“Yeah, I accidentally kicked the table,” you lied, trying to play it off as you took a deep breath.
Once Chad and Tara stopped laughing, they brought up the weekend plans that the friend group had been looking forward to. You were trying so hard to be present for that conversation, but once Ethan’s hand inched up further until it was under your skirt, you looked over at him. He met your gaze, and smirked once he noticed your eyes pleading with his. He shook his head before he turned his attention back to Chad, but his hand didn’t stop.
You bit your bottom lip as you felt his hand run over your panties, your eyes going wide as you tried to calm down. Ethan just kept talking, like he had no idea how badly his fingers rubbing over your swollen clit was affecting you.
Once Chad and Tara started to talk about plans that they had for dinner that night, you leaned over to whisper into Ethan’s ear.
“I need more,” you said, as he lightly chuckled. “Please, baby. I’ll be quiet.”
“You promise?” he questioned, as he pushed your panties to the side.
“Yes.”
The way he had his arm angled, it looked like he was just being a sweet boyfriend with his hand resting on your leg. Chad and Tara had no idea that his ring and middle finger were buried inside of you, moving back and forth over that spongy spot inside of your pussy.
You were happy to be getting some of the attention you needed, but it was taking everything in you to keep your breathing steady. Ethan’s pace kept changing, almost like he wanted you to be loud. He’d slow his fingers down, but then he’d start pressing his fingers so hard against that spot that your hands were gripping the sides of the chair.
You felt yourself getting closer, and you knew you couldn’t be quiet, especially after you had to play off a whimper by doubling over like you’d just gotten a bad cramp. You grabbed Ethan’s wrist with both hands, as you tried to get him to stop, but he just kept going. He looked over at you, noticing how fast you were breathing, and how you looked like you could cry from the stimulation. That’s when he realized that he needed to stop, because there was no way you could make it though your orgasm without it being obvious to your friends across the table.
He pulled his fingers out, and once Tara and Chad talked to each other, he looked back over at you and brought the fingers that were covered into your wetness up to his lips. You needed to cum so bad, and once he did that, you were sure you were going to go feral if you didn’t get your orgasm.
“We need to go,” you whispered, as he looked back over to Chad and Tara.
“We’ll leave soon, babe,” he said, as you huffed in frustration.
“If you don’t take me somewhere and fuck me right now, I’m going to go crazy.”
“You need it that bad?” he questioned, looking back at your friends to make sure they were still in their own conversation.
“Please, Ethan.”
“Hey guys, I think we’re going to get out of here,” Ethan said, as Chad and Tara looked at the two of you.
“Is everything okay?” Tara asked, once she noticed that you weren’t really saying anything.
“Yeah, it’s just cramps. I’m going to walk with her back to her dorm really quick before class,” he said, as your friends nodded.
Once you and Ethan got up, he took his hand in yours as he led you away from the table.
“We don’t have time to go back to my dorm,” you said, as he started to laugh.
“That’s not where we’re going,” he said, as he led you down the hall to a room that was used for study groups.
“We’re going to fuck in here? There’s no lock on the door,” you huffed, running your hand through your hair as Ethan grabbed a chair and propped it up under the door knob.
“No one’s getting in here,” he said, as he walked over to you. “I’m going to fuck you right here on this table.”
“Are you sure we won’t get caught?” you asked, as he reached under your skirt and grabbed your panties and slid them down your hips.
“That depends on how loud you are.”
Ethan tuned you around and had you bent over the table, your elbows resting against the wood as you waited for him to fuck you. You heard the zipper to his jeans get slid down before you felt him move your skirt, so it was bunched up on your hips.
“This is going to have to be quick, baby. Is that okay?” he asked, as he pushed the tip of his cock in your dripping pussy.
“Mhm,” you moaned at the feeling, as he slid the rest of himself inside you. “Just..don’t get your cum on my clothes.”
“It’s going to go all over this perfect ass of yours.”
He wasted no time before his cock started to thrust in and out of you, soft moans slipping out of your mouth. He was so focused on you, but once he glanced up at the clock on the wall and noticed you had less time than he originally thought, he started to pound into you. The sudden pace change caught you off guard, and you had to time to process it before you started letting out loud moans. The tip of Ethan’s cock hit your g-spot with every thrust, and after his fingers a few minutes before, you knew it wasn’t going to take much for him to make you cum. His hands were gripping your hips as he pulled them back to meet his thrusts, your hands moving to grip the side of the table so you wouldn’t fall off it.
Seeing you like this, and it being in a slightly public setting ignited something in Ethan. He let go of one of your hips to give a sharp smack to your ass, the feeling making you whimper as he soothingly rubbed over it before he did it again.
“Oh my god,” you moaned, “I’m so close.”
His hand went back to your hip as he mercilessly fucked you, loud whines flooding out of your mouth as the grip you had on the table got even tighter.
Ethan’s heavy breathing turned to groans once your pussy started to squeeze his cock, and you were bringing him so close to his own orgasm, but he was trying so hard to hold out so he could fuck you through yours. The sounds you were making didn’t make it any easier for him, so he finally pulled out.
“Fuck,” he mumbled, once he looked down at his release all over your ass cheek. “You gotta see this.”
You didn’t say anything as you caught your breath against the table, a sweet smile playing on your lips as he walked around to show you his phone.
“Whoa, that’s hot,” you said, as you looked at the picture of the red handprint that was covered in his cum.
“Yeah,” he said, as he walked over to grab some tissues from the other side of the room. “Did you like doing it in here?”
“Yeah, if you want this to be our new spot for quickies, I’m down.”
“I know we just hooked up, but I still want you to come over tonight. I didn’t have enough time for all the things I wanted to do to you,” he said, as he slid his boxers and jeans back up.
“I’d love to, babe,” you said, smiling at him as you stood up.
“Good, because again, you won’t be able to walk when I’m done with you.”
ANOTHER AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know I did it again and left it open for a part 2, so if y'all want another part of this where it'll probably consist of nothing but fucking, let me know lmao. It'd definitely be more on the rough side👀
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personasintro · 11 months
Text
monachopsis | 09
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↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; after receiving unpleasant news that doesn’t allow you to grow your family, your husband comes up with an idea that unfortunately involves his brother whom he despises
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: tattoo artist!yoongi x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, fluff, smut, mini series, brother-in-law au
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, ANGST
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 16.4k+
a/n: the long wait is over and the new chapter is here 🥹 sit back and enjoy ❤️‍🔥
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The cold and dark night perfectly portrays your inner feelings that dawn on you on the outside too, tears blurring your vision as you angrily wipe them off. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You shouldn't have come here. You trusted Yoongi to help you, maybe you even looked for comfort in him but you never expected he would accuse you of something like that.
Absolutely understanding that it's not his responsibility to comfort you, he could've easily told you to fuck off if he wanted. But still, you hoped he would understand. Your reaction is mainly controlled by your emotions, not with your head that doesn't seem to be in the right place.
Life taught you not to expect things from people, but everyone's got their expectations. Especially when you feel like you know that person at least a little bit. So you expect nothing this time, making your way to the car when you hear your name being shouted on the street. 
You've barely managed to take a few, fast and angry, strolls out of the studio. Glancing back and stopping in your tracks, you notice Yoongi staring at you as he rushes to you. You can't face him now. You turn around and continue in your path with even more eager and faster steps to get to your car.
Yoongi catches up to you though, running after you as the wind gets more intense and makes your hair stick to your wet cheeks. He's not going to let you leave, especially when he stormed out of his studio past his very confused friends. He's not fully understanding what happened, he might've gotten carried away and shouldn't have accused you of such things. But from what you were saying, it was something that made sense.
You're not okay. You weren't okay the second he laid his eyes on you when you were standing at the entrance of his new studio. And you're not okay now when he catches you by your forearm, stopping you from getting away from him and he sees your crying face. 
Fuck. Is that all his doing?
“What do you want?” you snap, shrugging off his touch with an angry frown as you wipe your cheeks with the sleeve.
What does he want? He has no fucking idea. He just couldn't leave you in such a state, knowing you have nowhere else to go. For fuck sake, he doesn't get why you came to him out of all people but you did. And he knows he would feel like a fucking asshole if he let you leave in your current state. The look of you only confirms he has done the right thing. 
“I shouldn't have assumed anything,” he speaks, eyes dancing across your face as you're trying to look angry. Only he feels bad for you, knowing what happened between you and his brother is way more serious. “I'm sorry.”
“I'm sorry I came here. It won't happen again.” you say emotionlessly, ending the conversation there as you turn around.
Yoongi doesn't let you. He catches you again, softly but enough to let you stay as he turns you around. “Where are you going?”
“Why do you care?” The same emotionless tone. It makes his jaw tick. 
“Where are you going?” he asks again, this time more deeper and slower.
“To my car. Now let me go.”
The truth is, you weren't only crying because of what Yoongi said. Sure, the interaction shocked you to the point where you felt disappointment, sadness and anger. You don't even know what emotion dominates. However, it's the awful feeling of loneliness and desperation. You have no idea what you're going to do now.
Yoongi watches you, a realization hitting him. “Fuck, you're shaking, Y/N.”
It hits you too. He's right. You didn't even notice it.
And then you break and a silent whimper leaves your mouth. There's no control over it, your body shaking even more as Yoongi sucks in breath harshly at the heartbreaking sight. He moves automatically, pulling your body to his with no protest from your side as you welcome his warmth. Despite the odd situation and Yoongi's arms around your fragile body, it doesn't dawn upon you he's hugging you until he tightens his grip on you.
“It's gonna be okay.” he mutters into the chilly air.
For a moment you're not able to react in any way, you direct all your focus trying to stop the tears that have welled up in your eyes and rolled down your cheeks. 
“Nothing's gonna be okay.”
“Now that's very pessimistic of you.” He tries to joke lightly, letting out just a light chuckle. But once he doesn't seem you nowhere near amused and in the same state, he gently pulls you off him to get another glance at your teary face.
It's embarrassing that he sees you in such a horrific and vulnerable state. For a solid second you hate him for approaching you. Why couldn't he just let you leave? He said what he wanted to say. The hurt still resonates and even when he gently wipes the tears off your cheeks with his thumb, like you would often see in romantic movies, nothing about this is romantic. You're pregnant, nowhere to go and with no one by your side. 
Yoongi might've apologized already, but his assumption and words still sting and you have a hard time believing him. Is he truly sorry? Or he just didn't expect you to storm out of there like that? And finding you crying in the middle of the street like an emotional wreck?
“Come on, let's get you to the car.” he mumbles under his breath, looking around before he gently tugs onto your wrist. He doesn't let go, almost as if he's afraid of you running. 
“My car's that way.” you point out emotionlessly, stubborn to show any more emotion that you already have.
He was right about one thing. You shouldn't drive in this state. No matter what could've happened, this is no longer only about you. You've got one more person to think about. 
“We're gonna drive in my car.” he simply says and you don't argue.
Once he unlocks his car with a key – the old system of unlocking – you get inside and does it feel odd to be back inside it again? No words are exchanged, the radio playing softly in the background as you allow yourself to lean back and stare out of the window. You're not sure where he's taking you. Oh god, is he taking you back home? You can't go there! Not with Yeonseok there. 
Just as you open your mouth, you recognize the familiar street and the direction you're heading at. 
“Where are we going?” you ask, despite knowing but you still have to ask. Yoongi's aware of that.
“To my place.”
“Yoongi–” 
Still hurt (and upset too) by your latest conversation at his new studio, you're aware of Yoongi wanting to be out of this as much as possible. While you're guessing he must feel bad for you and that's why he's doing this, you don't want him to do this out of pure pity. You would rather be alone in a hotel room until you figure out this mess. 
“You said you have nowhere to go, didn't you?” he reminds you. A little output by his bluntness, your mouth opens and closes before you find words. 
“And you said everything is way past us.” You quote him with an edge to your tone, shooting him a side glance as he keeps his eyes on the road as he lets out a sigh. “Drive me to a hotel. Any hotel is fine.”
You feel his momentarily gaze on you. Too stubborn to look, you keep staring ahead with a clenched jaw. It's not like there's no appreciation of what he's doing on your part. After everything – even if the emotions are too raw and current – you can tell that it's a positive thing that he decided to stop you from driving. As usual, you're absolutely clueless about what's going on inside his head or why he's doing this. You don't think he's got any bad intentions. Regardless of what his parents and your husband say about him, you know Yoongi does have a good heart.
But you've got your own pride as well.
“I know what I said and I'm sorry.” he simply says, continuing in his drive and not changing the direction which you decide not to comment on for numerous reasons. 
The air between you is a little stiff, undoubtedly caused by the misunderstanding (is that what it was?), and the way inside the building and his apartment is spent in utter silence. It's until Yoongi closes his front door and you're met with the familiar scent of oranges and wood, that you finally speak up. 
“Why am I here, Yoongi?” you ask, not taking off your shoes like he tells you to – muttering it almost tiredly to be exact. You ignore him, raising your brow as you demand an answer. 
He takes off his shoes and jacket silently, placing the items to their designated place. He's definitely taking his time but you don't budge, hardening your features even more as he takes a sneaky glance at you. 
“Can we not fight?”
“I'm not fighting!” you exclaim, a little bit too loud which causes him to raise his brow at you this time. “Thanks for driving me but I shouldn't be here.”
“But you came to me, haven't you?” he asks, hardening his features just as much. “You must've wanted help.”
“I needed a friend,” you correct him. “I needed someone who understands.” Your voice wavers and you mentally curse at yourself. 
He has no reaction, simply looking at you until he drops his gaze toward his feet.
“I know we're no friends. I'm aware of that. But I needed someone who's familiar with my situation. It was wrong of me to come up to you. You were right, it looked wrong and I shouldn't have–”
“I was an asshole for assuming the reason for you coming there.” he cuts you off. “It didn't even cross my mind that you needed–that you needed someone who understands.”
“You wanted as far out of this mess as possible,” you point out harshly. “And I can't blame you for it. We all got what we wanted, didn't we?”
He looks up, your eyes meeting for a moment as he understands the double meaning of your words. Poking the tongue inside of his cheek, he looks behind you.
“I don't wanna be any burden to you. I will handle this by myself, somehow. I don't know how yet, but it's not your concern. I'm sorry for coming to you.”
“Don't,” he cuts you off, staring at you sternly. “Just stay here, okay?” he asks, sighing exhaustedly like this entire situation makes him both mentally and physically exhausted. 
It definitely exhausts you.
“Why?”
The question is simple. You don't expect him to give you a proper answer or any at this point. Yoongi might be honest but most of the time, he keeps his thoughts to himself. He's not one to open his heart and if he does, he does it almost emotionlessly. You know it's all an act. The often mentioned build-up wall you named in your mind. 
“Because I wanna help.”
That alone makes your breath hitch. Dryly gulping, you try not to react too much as you stand there not moving an inch.
“Do you, now?” you ask. You're aware of your stubbornness and the fact you're not making any of this easy. You should be happy that he's trying to help. At least someone is. Someone that doesn't need an explanation of what a fucked up deal you made. Someone that doesn't need an explanation of why you left your perfect and loving husband. So yes, he's here trying to help and you should be glad for it. A part of you thinks like that. 
But there's that part of you completely clueless by his intentions or inner thoughts. He's talking but at the same time he barely reveals anything. Perhaps your questioning and attitude is caused by still lingering hurt. 
“Yes,” he answers with a frown. “So let me help you.”
Features softening, you stare into those usually sharp eyes that somehow keep their shape despite the light behind them changing. Hesitantly, you take off your shoes and ignore the fact he's watching you the entire time. Once you're done, he leads you further down his small apartment. Not that he needs you. You know this place well and again, it's not like any of you need that reminder. 
“I can lend you some of my clothes.” he says, motioning for you to sit down on his couch.
You obey, placing your hands over your knees as you look around. Why are you suddenly nervous? Or is that discomfort you're feeling? You definitely imagined all of this to go differently. Still a little shaken up by everything that has happened today, everything starts to take its toll on you. 
“I'm not a tea drinker but I should have herbal tea somewhere. I will make you one.”
He doesn't wait for your response, simply walking away to his kitchen to prepare the tea. He's gone for a few minutes, but you refuse to even look in that direction. You hate that feeling of being alone. As soon as you're surrounded by the four walls and silence, minus the occasional sounds of drawers opening and closing that come from the kitchen, everything starts to replay in your mind like a broken record.
Luckily, Yoongi comes back with a cup of tea, placing it in front of you in utter silence. 
“Thanks.”
He only nods, slowly and carefully sitting down on the separate chair. 
“You can take my bed.”
“I can sleep on the couch.” you inform him. “I'm not fragile.”
He seems like he wants to argue at that statement, he keeps his mouth shut. The couch is nothing but uncomfortable and you both know that. But you don't need him sacrificing himself any more than he already has. 
“Don't fight me on this, alright?” he asks gently. When your stern frown meets his exhausted one, you press your lips into a tight line as you mutter out another thanks. “I've got sessions throughout the entire day, but feel free to do whatever you want.”
“I'll leave tomorrow morning. Thanks for letting me stay the night.” you tell him, meaning every word. 
“You can stay however long you want, okay?” He leans his head, trying to catch your eyes again. And once he does and your gaze naturally finds him, he deepens his stare as if to make sure you understand. “I'm barely at home. You'll have this place all to yourself. Not that there's much to do but…”
You press your lips tightly, a little grin threatening to crack. 
“I'll try to come home quickly. We'll figure it out, okay?”
Looking at him once more, you search his face for any answers that are yet to be answered. 
What do you mean, you want to ask. Since when does he want to get involved?
“I thought you didn't want to get involved.” you say silently, staring at your fumbling hands that rest in your lap. 
“Yeah, me too.” he mutters, his eyes not leaving his form. “I got myself involved the moment I nodded to Yeonseok's idea.”
Flinching at the sound of your husband's name, you clear your throat rather awkwardly. 
“It's not your responsibility to get into this mess. I know in a way you're involved, but you're not entirely involved in my and your brother's mess.”
It definitely sounds messy. The argument started with Yoongi, the entire trail of your thoughts started with him in a way. But he doesn't need to get involved more than that. It was a mistake on your part to come to his new place and search for him, in hope for some comfort. 
“Me staying here is just going to cause a disaster.”
You both know you're talking about your husband here. The look you both share says it all. 
“Yeonseok?” he still asks, chuckling a little.
You nod. 
“I'm not afraid of him.”
“I know you're not but he's… you know how he is. If he finds out I'm here–he probably already suspects I went to you. I'm not sure but I think he does.”
“I'll handle him if he comes here.”
You nervously nibble on your bottom lip. Your stupid decision to seek comfort and support from Yoongi might cause even a bigger mess. 
“Don't worry, okay? I'll handle it. Let me help you.”
After staring at him hesitantly, aware of vulnerability written all over your face, you give him a nod. Something that allows him to relax as he leans back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. 
“Drink your tea before it gets cold. I'll prepare the bed for you.”
You open your mouth to argue but before you can do that, he's already on his feet walking away. Sighing in disappointment, you reach for the plain black cup nevertheless.
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Yoongi doesn't leave for work too early, but early enough for you two not seeing each other. You wake up later than usual, very well aware your late night staring at the dark ceiling and not blinking an eye has a lot to do with it. No matter how tired you truly felt as soon as you laid into the fresh sheets, your mind just couldn't seem to stop working. 
Yoongi stayed true to his words. He stayed on his uncomfortable couch. Proposing sharing a bed is not something appropriate, despite you've shared a bed before. Things are different now. 
The first thing you did this morning, after blinking off any traces of sleep and staring around Yoongi's bedroom, was turning on your phone. No missed calls. You're not sure whether you're relieved or surprised. Yeonseok is usually very caring and tends to get worried. Deep down you know you expected to see at least a message.
It's better this way. Having him trying to reach you would just make you more uncomfortable. You know he's equally upset and even though you've never been through something like this, you made yourself clear.
Getting out of the bed, wearing Yoongi's clothes which you're trying not to think of much, you find a sticky note on a counter. A messily written note. You imagine him writing it at the last minute, hurrying to leave for work. 
There's some food in the fridge, feel free to make whatever you'd like. It's not much but it should do.
Simple, but effective. 
Turning on the kettle, you prepare a cup and tea. Wow, he really isn't a tea drinker. Choosing the only box he has there, you open the fridge to find good ingredients to make a proper breakfast from. You've never been much of a breakfast eater, but after you got pregnant that has changed. You've been craving more food now, even though you sometimes get sensitive about smells and taste.
You settle on a toast. It takes you around fifteen minutes to prepare everything. You purposely take your time, knowing there's nothing much for you to do for the rest of your day. Maybe you should change back into your clothes and leave Yoongi's apartment while he's at work. As much as he assured you he wants to help, you know that's not what he wanted at the beginning. Not that it matters, but something tells you the inconvenience your stay is going to bring. 
You're not a pity case. You hate the thought of him pitying you.
Regardless of your thoughts, your feet don't cross his doorstep. You're in the middle of watching a movie on his Netflix account (hoping he won't mind you using it) when your phone rings. Brows lift up to your hairline, seeing Yoongi is the one calling you. Pausing the movie, you clear your throat before answering. 
“Yes?”
“Um, hey.” Yoongi starts, clearing his tone from the sudden but apparent awkwardness. “Have you eaten?”
Something about that question makes you snort. 
He groans on the other line. Little do you know he's awkwardly scratching the top of his head. 
“I have.” you say with a smile grazing your lips. 
“I'm gonna buy some groceries after work,” he continues. “There are some flyers on the fridge. Feel free to order dinner, there are uh,” he stops for a second. “A few bucks in my nightstand.”
“Yoongi, I should–”
“Just stay there, okay?” 
He's met with silence. 
“Y/N.” 
Stopping yourself from biting your nails, you lick your dry lips. “Okay.”
Once Yoongi ends the phone call without saying anything else, you stay seated in utter silence – staring at the paused movie. It sounded like he needed assurement you wouldn't leave. You're not sure why he's so determined about you waiting up for him. You wouldn't do anything stupid, it's not like you've got many options to begin with. But you promised him you would stay. 
After all, he's the only person who's helping you at the moment. 
Back in Yoongi's studio, he places the phone back onto a counter with a thoughtful look. Too immersed in his thoughts, wondering what he's going to do once he comes back home, he doesn't notice Jimin coming from the back and joining him in the front. 
“Your next appointment is in five. You alright?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at his friend with a suspicious look. 
“Yeah.”
“Who was that on the phone? Your girlfriend?” he teases the older, laughing at Yoongi's unimpressed glare that tells him enough that he's not in the mood for a dumb teasing. 
Actually, he's not been in the mood since he arrived at the studio and opened it with Jimin's help. While Yoongi's tattooing, Jimin takes care of the phone calls and incoming customers. After he ran after you, his friends were kind enough that they took care of the studio. Without their help, he wouldn't be able to start working and would be forced to cancel his long-waiting appointments. He's not in a position to cancel them. Even after paying his debts, he still needs the money.
His aching back is also a good reason for his sour mood. 
“Don't hate me for asking. You've been quite secretive lately, no wonder we're all a little curious.” Even with Jimin's light grin, there's some truth to his words. 
However, Yoongi doesn't agree. 
He's not been secretive. He's always been the same. And he's sure what Jimin hints at is–
“Does it have something to do with your sister-in-law?” He's met with a tougher glare this time, causing Jimin's hands to lift up in surrender, showing him he means no harm.
“Is she okay though? She stormed out of here looking like a mess and then–”
“She's fine,” Yoongi cuts him off, tone harsher than he intended to which causes the younger's shoulders to drop. “Just some trouble back at home. Come on, the client is coming.” he mutters, walking to the back feeling Jimin's eyes on his back the entire time until he hears his cheerful greeting to one of Yoongi's new clients. 
Despite the lack of Yoongi's will to share any information about what happened in the span of twenty-four hours, Jimin and none of his friends have a clue in what a fucked up situation he found himself in.
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He never said at what time he would be back. 
You've waited long enough for him to come, too embarrassed to admit your ears have been perked up at the littlest sounds, expecting the keys rustling in the lock. But when it was around eight and your stomach started to churn loud enough to no longer be ignored, you listened to Yoongi's words and ordered a delivery. 
At least something seems to go right when you're in the middle of opening one of the containers when you hear the door being pushed open. It shuts in the distance and with soon approaching footsteps, you come into an eye-contact with him. Two bags full of groceries are in his both hands as the delicious smell of fresh food invades his small apartment. He glances at the amount of containers before he looks at you. 
An almost inaudible Hi comes out of your mouth and instead of a vocal greeting, he nods in acknowledgement as he greets you back by it. 
“I ordered some for you.” you tell him, slowly – almost cautiously – sitting behind the table. 
“Thanks.” he says, eyes still lingering on the full table as your eyes widen in realization.
“Oh, I paid for it. I got a little carried away and got us a pizza and chicken wings. There's rice and a few side dishes as well.” 
Yoongi listens for a second, walking to the kitchen counter where he sets the grocery bags before he turns around. He stays rooted in his spot, eyes falling down on you as you give him a sheepish look. 
“I told you there's money in my nightstand. You didn't have to buy all of this.” 
Even with his little pointed look and tone, you know he means well. And perhaps he's too prideful to suck up the fact you paid for it. Yoongi did say there's a few bucks in his bedroom but the order you placed cost more than just a few bucks. Although, you never checked how much money he has there – it didn't even cross your mind – none of it matters. 
“I wanted to buy us dinner. It's my way of saying thanks for letting me stay here. It's the least I could do.”
Holding back any sort of reaction like you're used to when it comes to him, Yoongi sighs and rubs his face tiredly. Then he looks at you and cracks – what seems like an attempt to – smile.
He knows there's no way in arguing with you on this. 
“Thanks. You didn't have to though.”
“I know I didn't. I wanted to,” you assure him right away, smiling in his direction as if to silently say that you're done with this conversation. “Now eat up. I hope you haven't eaten dinner already.”
“I haven't,” he hums, joining you at the table as he looks at the containers opening them. “Just how much did you order?” he asks, lips twitching.
“A lot.” you laugh. 
Yoongi goes to grab utensils, washes his hands before joining you again at the table. The moment of you two sitting behind one table – just the two of you – having dinner feels odd. It feels oddly domestic. Just as the both of you are ready to dig in, Yoongi mutters a soft; 
“Thanks for the food.”
All you can muster is a soft smile without even looking at him, stuffing your mouth with the delicious pizza as you continue to eat in silence. 
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After yesterday's late dinner and during the time he cleaned the kitchen, he asked you for your car keys and documents, so he could bring the car today. Not wanting to argue about that, you agreed to Yoongi's plan – making sure it's no bother which earned a certain type of look from him. Or was it a glare? 
You've had the whole morning to think of your next step. Yoongi had left earlier than yesterday, the only difference is that he informed you about him having to leave very early. Something about his day being fully packed, so the only time he can bring your car is in the evening.
Your entire life is currently a big mess. What was supposed to be the happiest stage in your life, you're spending it at your brother-in-law's place with nothing. All your stuff is back at home. Home. Can you call it that? 
Yeonseok has not contacted you yet. He's probably still upset over the argument and you've no idea what is going on inside his head. Not that you assume he has to contact you in the first place. Actually, you would be glad if he didn't contact you. 
Eventually, the two of you will have to talk. You're not ready. Not after everything that has been replaying in your mind nonstop. Sleep is the only time when you have enough time to rest, and even that is never guaranteed. 
One thing you know for sure, you can't stay here for too long. You don't want to overstay your welcome and despite what Yoongi told you on the phone yesterday, you just know he is going to want this place to himself eventually. Which means, you have to solve this with Yeonseok.
You do have money to stay at a hotel for the time being, but that's not a solution. Just a temporary one. You're pregnant for fuck sake. You're supposed to buy baby clothes and essentials, look around for a good crib and a stroller. Not being in someone else's home, invading their space and privacy and stressing yourself. On another note, it's safe to say that it is completely reasonable for you to stress. Who wouldn't?
The stress has completely invaded your life and while you're trying to keep your cool for the baby, it's bound for it to affect a thing or two. Like forgetting your appointment. 
Good thing is that when you go to check your phone (while trying to give yourself a break from your never-ending stressful thoughts), a reminder pops up on the screen. You've never been one to set reminders on your phone. Just a quick note if there was too much for you. But you've started doing that since going on these appointments that included the baby.
Looking at time, you still have two hours to get there.
But that's where the problem comes. You're without your car, so you're forced to list through your contacts before you dial the only person you've been seeing for the past two days. 
It rings too long to the point you get anxious. You could reschedule the appointment, but with how things have been going so far, you need the assurance that everything is fine with the baby. You haven't experienced anything alarming and concerning that could alarm you, but still. You don't want to neglect anything. If something happened, you would never forgive yourself. 
Whilst in the middle of nibbling on your nails, a gruff voice you've grown to use to reach your ears.
“Um, hi. I'm sorry to bother you, I know you're extremely busy today but–”
“What happened?”
“I'm such an idiot. I just checked my phone and my appointment is today. And you know, my car's not here and I could probably get there by a bus, but I don't know this neighborhood and I'm not sure if I could get there on time.” you quickly explain, not wanting to take much of his time.
You don't know everything about him, but he seems to be the type of person that gets annoyed when someone interrupts him while working.
If he is annoyed, he doesn't show it too much. 
Or it's hard to tell because his usual stoic demeanor can be recognized even through the phone. “What appointment?” he sighs.
“With–with the baby.” 
He stays silent for a moment, “What time is it?”
“It's half past ten.”
“I meant the appointment.”
“Oh,” you let out, chuckling at your mistake as you mentally facepalm yourself. But it's worth it, there's something like a huff of chuckle on the other line which breaks his usual demeanor you mentioned earlier. “In two hours.”
“Ah, fuck,” Yoongi sighs a little, “Okay. I will drive you there.”
“You sure?”
“How else you wanna get there?” he asks, which shuts you up for a moment.
“I mean, that's true but you said you're busy. Maybe I could quickly check the buses and get to your address. My car's there. Oh, how did I not think of it sooner?”
“Stop,” You pucker your lips as you freeze, almost as if Yoongi is right there. “Don't stress yourself. Just get ready, I'll pick you up in like an hour and half.”
“Thank you.” you say, sighing in relief. 
You imagine him nodding as he lets out a humming sound. He excuses himself before he ends the call. Your call falls down on your lap as you stare at the blank screen of his television. Ignoring the thumping of your heart from the entire call, you go get yourself ready.
Yoongi picks you up right on time, his car already parked in front of the building while you walk out of the entrance. When you get inside, you get a greeting in the form of a short nod before he puts the car into drive. Giving him location details, you nibble on your lip for a moment. His car smells like his cologne, mixed with cigarettes and mint. It's an odd scent. Despite you hating the smell of cigarettes, you don't seem to mind this mixture. Besides, the cigarettes' smell isn't that strong. 
“Thanks for coming to pick me up.”
Filling up the silence, you feel like it's the right thing to do because you're not going to spend the rest of the ride in an awkward silence. Glancing at Yoongi, he looks anything but awkward. It's like he's in his own space, distancing from everything and everyone, closing himself off as he focuses on driving.
“Is this the moment where you apologize for bothering me?” he questions, a tilt of teasing in his voice as he says it with the most neutral face. 
You stare at him, mouth agape before he briefly glances at you as he can't hold himself. His lips twitch slightly but you notice it right away. Breathing out a chuckle, you shake your head at him. Min Yoongi is freaking teasing you.
“I mean—you had to get here when you were working.” you point out. 
Though, you weren't planning on apologizing, he's right in a way. 
“But I insisted on leaving your car there. I insisted you drive with me.”
For obvious reasons, you think. Not that you want to admit it, but you're glad he didn't let you drive in the state you were in back then. 
“You don't have your car thanks to me, let's end it with that, okay?”
“Okay.” you agree, turning your head to the window as you stare at the streets and people passing.
Once the road and surroundings become more familiar, the oddness of this all comes to sit in the pit of your stomach. Meanwhile you stare at the tall building you've grown used to, Yoongi finds a good parking spot. Once the engine's off and business of the surroundings can be barely heard through the windows, you reach for the doorknob slowly. 
“You're gonna be fine from here?” he asks, not looking at you when you do glance at him. 
When you don't answer right away, he glances at you before you can find the proper words to tell him that you will be fine.
“You don't need me to go there with you?”
Even if his tone is nonchalant as if he's asking the most basic stuff, he takes you by surprise and makes your brows shoot up. “You would go there with me?” you ask, sounding not totally sold on that idea. 
Looking at him now, he already seems to be wanting to be in a different place. Not in front of a building full of doctors and inside with a bunch of pregnant females. Suddenly, the thought of seeing him there is a little laughable. 
So because of that, you haven't even thought about him being there. Until he said it. 
You do need to admit that you haven't been here alone ever since you got pregnant. Your OB/GYN is here, so you used to go here for check-ups way before that. Yeonseok was the one who joined you right after you got pregnant. Thinking of it now, you're reminded of how excited you were to go for these check-ups, not only to calm down your nerves if everything's right, but to see your baby. Even if you could hardly tell their body parts.
It became the thing between you and him. It's what most expecting parents do, but it became your special thing in a way. Something that you always looked for. Something you've always done together.
But now – it's the first time you're here alone. Yeonseok is not by your side and probably the most distant he's ever been in your life. That's on you though. It would be weird to ask him to come here, after everything that has been said between you and him. 
“I would, if you want me to.” Yoongi replies, catching your attention and as you slowly shake yourself out of your thoughts, you remember what the conversation is about.
“Wouldn't that be weird for you though?” you ask, noticing you still have ten minutes before your scheduled check-up.
He doesn't respond at first, deciding to ignore that question as he sinks deeper into his seat. Elbow coming up to rest against the door, he uses his fingers to rub his chin softly.
“Nothing I couldn't handle,” he decides to say, “You're acting a little weird, that's why I'm asking.”
Clueless to what Yoongi's thinking, he thinks of one of the reasons that could potentially get you acting weird, at least one that's generalized and comes to his mind first. He doesn't even have to think about it too much. You're worried that something's wrong, right? Aren't most pregnant women like that?
Maybe it's better you can't read his thoughts, or else he would get a nasty look in return. You are a little bit more sensitive. 
Should you just tell him? Again, you do not want to burden him in your shit any more than you already do. Telling him about Yeonseok would probably not only put him into a sour mood, but it would mean he would most likely try to understand you. You've figured out a long time ago that he's not bad at all. 
Yoongi is actually a sweet person. Still in his way, but without a doubt, he is one.
Making a decision of just telling him instead, be honest and in a hope he won't think you want to be pitied, you lick your lips as you shrug. “It's because it is weird. Yeonseok used to come with me every time.”
He's silent for a moment, “And now he's not here.” he adds without you having to finish as you nod, confirming his thoughts. 
“Which of course, doesn't mean you have to go with me.” you quickly correct whatever suspicion he might have. 
But looking at him, he looks anything but suspicious. He nods, more to himself than to you or your words, shrugging. “I understand shit about pregnancy, but it probably feels lonely to go there alone, right?”
Well, damn. The look you give him makes him shrug. 
“You don't need to pity me, Yoongi. It's not that big of a deal.”
“I still have to wait for you, right? Need to drive you back.”
“Well, it's up to you.” you mumble, tapping your fingers against your knee. “I don't want you to feel uncomfortable.”
“Around pregnant females?” he chuckles, “How bad can it be?”
“You can come with me, I think…” you nibble on your bottom lip, “I think I would like that.”
He nods.
“But only if you want to!”
By the time you're done talking, Yoongi's already unfastening his seatbelt, motioning for you to do the same. You can't believe you're doing this.
As you approach the building and navigate Yoongi where to go, you're not sure what's weird to begin with. The thought of going here all alone or the thought of Min Yoongi beside you.
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What the fuck.
Pictures of vaginas, uterus and what it looks inside of women's uterus during pregnancy are everywhere. Don't get him wrong, he has seen a fair amount of vaginas and he's quite familiar with it, but not like this. It feels very… odd to be surrounded by a sketched version of it all. Obviously, he's never been in a waiting room like this one.
Sitting next to you soundlessly, he shifts on his spot as you seem to be immersed in your own thoughts. He has no idea why he agreed to this. While he knows you in no way forced him and perhaps you find a weirdness of his presence here as well, he just tried to do the right thing. 
You've been through a lot and as much as he tried to distance from it all, he's got you in his home. Maybe he's not very upfront about it or too enthusiastic, but he does help people that seem in a need of it. Even though he doesn't look like he loves doing it, he just does. Is it important if someone loves or hates helping others as long as they do it? 
Right next to him, legs crossed and fingers playing with your rings, you were right. There are couples, chatting silently with wide smiles as they can't see their little ones forming into a proper life. You were one of those people not long ago. 
You don't allow yourself to feel guilty about it. You did what you had to do to make sure not to hurt yourself or others even more. Only time will show if it was the right decision, but for now, it feels like the best one you could've made. 
On the other hand, you can't believe Yoongi is in a waiting room with you, staring obnoxiously at the image of a uterus. It's pretty laughable though.
Suppressing your laugh, you watch him stretch his legs as his arm rests in his lap. Ignoring the veins that mostly pop up because of the pressure of his posture, he makes himself comfortable. Does he find this weird too?
There is no way he has done this before in his life. Of course, he hasn't. 
“You know,” you murmur silently, just for you and him to hear. He glances at you, giving you his attention but then again, maybe he's glad he doesn't have to stare at the picture any longer. “You don't have to go inside with me.”
As usual, he has no shocked reaction to it. “I didn't even think about it.”
You open your mouth, a little offended look that gives it away as he cuts you off before you can say anything.
“I meant as I'll go and wait with you here.”
He tries to explain in his own nonchalant and informative way. Well, you can't get mad at that. Weirdly, you understand what he means. 
Leaning back and trying to make yourself more comfortable, you hope they'll take you soon so he doesn't have to wait too long. Despite his usually calm demeanor, Yoongi does not look like the type to like waiting. Well, who does? But he surely has no patience for this. Even more so that he has a job that he needs to go back to. 
Luckily, the door opens soon and the nurse you're familiar with calls you in. Some couples like to come early, probably too excited to not mind waiting it out here. Some of them are called as well, since there are more ambulances on this floor.
You grab your things before standing up, making your way inside as the nurse stops you. “Is the young man not going with you?”
Since Yoongi and you were sitting close together, there's a low chance he would be a stranger considering there are free seats on both sides of you. She asks long enough, looking at Yoongi with a welcoming and friendly smile. 
“Ah, that's my friend.”
“We're only screening today. It's up to you though.” she reminds you, smiling widely. You would too if you had her paycheck. It's a private hospital after all.
Not trying to catch too much attention about something so… normal, Yoongi directs his eyes from the nurse to look at you. “It's up to you.”
“As long as you're comfortable with it, Mrs. Min. It was just a suggestion. I know some women bring their friends with them, no matter the gender.” she tries to joke, your smile tight and awkward.
“I'm a family friend.” Yoongi justifies, as if that makes it any better.
It's a look of realization that hits you and you watch it in horrification as her smile grows even wider. “Oh, yes! You do look very familiar. You must be Mr. Min's family, right? It's so lovely of you to come here!”
She's kind and clearly enthusiastic, you can't share it with her though. Staring at Yoongi in pure panic, he gives the nurse an unsure smile as he tries to make things clear – which is not like him at all. 
“I'm his brother.”
You would've guessed he would just keep his mouth shut at Yeonseok's mention, not confessing his relation to him at that. 
“Oh, come on then. Let's look at your niece or nephew.”
You close your eyes, ready to facepalm yourself in front of the entire waiting room as you embrace yourself. You're not sure whether you should laugh at the irony or cry in horrification. 
Yoongi presses his lips tight, nodding awkwardly as he glances back at you, giving you the final decision. 
“I'm okay with that.”
Despite the irony and awkwardness of this all, it would feel less lonely to be inside and look at the baby. Not thinking about the entire biology and blood related thing, Yoongi is a family. Whether we are speaking only metaphorically or taking biology into consideration. If he wasn't fine about it, he would say so, right?
You see he's a little unsure as he stands up, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck as the nurse ushers you both come in. It's hard to decipher what's going on inside Yoongi's head. One thing's sure and that is he's nowhere in his field. He still walks in the room, trailing slowly behind you as another familiar room welcomes you.
Just as your doctor undoubtedly notices Yoongi's presence as soon as she looks up from the computer's screen. 
“It's Mrs. Min's brother-in-law.” The nurse cheerfully informs your doctor, clearly unaware of how much more awkward she is making it for you two. 
You can't be mad at her though. She doesn't know. Yoongi does send her a glare which causes you to inconspicuously elbow him when none of them are looking. He shrugs. After all, it is his fault he admitted his entire relation to you. If he kept his mouth shut and just went with being just a friend, it would be less awkward than this. 
“It's nice to meet you! Let's look at the baby!” Mrs. Kim, the doctor, says as she stands up and motions for you to lay down. 
Trying to shake off any discomfort, you lay down and look at Yoongi for a split second. He stays at the end of the bed, trying to look around as if watching the scene in front of him would make you entirely uncomfortable. It's not like he hasn't seen every inch of you. 
Rolling up your shirt just as Mrs. Kim sits down on her stool and prepares the lubricant gel, you spot Yoongi giving you a side glance. His eyes suddenly turn into a big size, naturally finding the small but evident bump you just revealed. 
You intertwine your fingers together and put them above your stomach, you try to stay calm. 
“This will get slightly cold, you know the drill, Mrs. Min.” The doctor chuckles, squirting a proper amount of the gel onto your lower stomach.
Your attention is turned elsewhere, away from the man who seems so out of place at the moment. You focus it on the screen next to your head, recognizing the familiar sight and colors. However, this time everything's bigger and more visible which makes your chest tight and eyes tear up. 
Whether it's your hormones or current situation that makes you so emotional, all the pressure suddenly leaves for a moment at the sight of your baby.
“Everything seems to be looking just alright, Mrs. Min,” she informs you with a smile, giving you a quick glance as she moves the scanner around your lower stomach. “Come closer, Mr. Min. Have a look.” she urges him, just like the nurse, completely oblivious to everything. 
Yoongi looks like he wants to protest, almost ready to shake his head but when she turns to him with an encouraging smile, he sighs and comes closer. He leans forward.
“There is the head,” she explains to him just like she did to you and Yeonseok before. “And arms and legs.”
He stares, mouth agape. Straightening himself, he clears his throat and gives her a nervous smile. But it comes out crooked. You almost snort at that.
“The baby is on the smaller side.”
“Is that a bad thing?” you question immediately.
“Not at all, it's not anything abnormal or to be concerned about. It mainly depends on the parents.” she explains, calming you down which makes you sigh in relief. “Would you like to know the gender?”
“You can see that?” you almost jump, seeing her smile curve into a wider one.
“Mhm,” she nods, “It might not be a hundred percent accurate, you're still at fifteen weeks.”
“Wow, well–”
“We can wait for your husband if that's what you prefer.” she assures you, a sour taste coming into your mouth as you look at Yoongi. 
“It's whatever you want.” he reminds you silently, the corner of his lips lifting.
By how things look with Yeonseok, you're not sure if waiting for him has any meaning. Fuck. You don't even know if he wants to be the father. How can you possibly just wait it out?
“We could do it on your next scan, it will be more accurate. But I can see it now and I'm eighty percent sure.”
Nibbling on your lip, you literally say fuck it in your head. “Tell me please.”
She chuckles, “From the looks of it, you're expecting a baby girl, Mrs. Min.”
A chuckle of disbelief and joy escapes your mouth, knowing whatever the answer would be, you would be just as ecstatic. It's just knowing the truth and more information about your baby is enough to make you a crying mess. 
“I'm sorry,” you giggle, putting a palm over your mouth as you smile widely. 
“Congratulations, Mrs. Min.” The doctor and nurse speak at the same time.
“Congrats.” Yoongi says, squeezing your ankle. You bite your lip, giving him a slight nod.
The doctor hands you the wipes and lets you wipe the lubricant off your skin. You're taken back when Yoongi offers you his hand when you sit up.
“We'll just draw your blood to run some tests and you're free to go.”
“Are you happy?” Yoongi asks silently once the doctor and nurse are nearby, but not enough to hear you two. The nurse is preparing the needle while the doctor writes the report to your patient card. 
“I am,” you answer with a smile, “I still would be regardless of the gender.”
“A little girl.” he mutters, zoning out for a second.
“A little girl.” you confirm.
You both stare at each other until the nurse comes back and interrupts you, preparing you to draw your blood. “Are you good with needles and blood, Mr. Min?”
He cocks his brow at her, showing her his tattooed sleeve, popped out veins along with it. She blushes in return. She freaking blushes as she laughs a little. You watch the exchange with a deadpan look. He smirks, cockily shrugging when he notices your stare.
She draws your blood, handing you water after she's done just in case. After everything's done, you schedule another appointment before you're free to go. Happily clutching the printed ultrasound, you put it into your purse to keep it safe once you get inside Yoongi's car. 
You're both silent, again, deep in your thoughts until the replay of what happened just a few minutes ago makes you ask. “Why did you tell her about being Yeonseok's brother?”
“Why? Should I have not?” he questions right back.
“I just didn't expect that. You're not exactly too keen on informing others about your relation to him. It just seemed odd,” you shrug, voicing out your thoughts. “It felt… awkward. Y'know, considering everything.”
Yoongi stays silent, lips in a thin line before he sighs. “I panicked.”
“You panicked?” you ask, laughing a little at that. “Because of what?”
“I don't know!” he exclaims, almost whining which makes you giggle. “She kept asking and I just didn't know what to say. Wouldn't it be weird for me to be there as your friend?”
“Hm, I don't think so,” you answer, “You heard her. Many friends come there. She doesn't have to know we're not friends.”
“Ouch,” he tries to play it off, clutching his chest as he keeps his eyes on the road. “Are we not friends?”
“I don't know, you tell me. Bro in law.”
“You did not just call me that.” he cringes, causing you to laugh. 
“You were the one who was adamant of being my brother-in-law instead of a friend.” you remind him cheekily, watching the way he looks away in embarrassment. 
“I panicked.” he mutters rather grumpily causing you to hold your laughter.
After a moment of silence, you look at him again. “Thanks for going there with me. Inside too. It felt nice not having to do that alone.”
“I thought so.” He confesses.
“What do you mean?”
“I thought you might feel lonely,”
You're not sure how to feel about that statement.
“And you're welcome.” he says, though his eyes stay on the road, distant and out of reach.
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Delicious smell flows through Yoongi's home as soon as he opens the front door. After he drove you back to his place, he went to work and listened to Jimin's nagging of being a few minutes late. After today, he felt like he could handle anything so Jimin's scolding did nothing to him. Not that it did before but this time, he decided to ignore him instead saying; Well I'm here now.
Jimin, speechless and annoyed, stayed quiet and only shook his head at his boss and friend. What else for him was to do when Yoongi greeted the client and shut the door behind them, hiding from the entire world.
He loves his work. Partly because he's distracted and has no time to think about unnecessary things. Which came handy especially today.
While he was busy working, you don't have much to do. After staring at the scan for a few minutes and dodging your family's calls, you decided to hop into the nearest grocery store. It's been a while since you baked, you prefer cooking but you've been craving something sweet. At least that's what you told yourself, that's the reason why you decided to abuse Yoongi's kitchen. Not because you wanted to do something nice for him, as another thank you for being there for you.
You've no idea if Yoongi even likes cakes.
So when he suddenly appears between his living room and kitchen, at first you have no idea how to explain the slowly disappearing mess that you've tried to clean off before he arrives. 
“I baked bundt cake,” you inform him, palm spreading and pointing straight at the fresh cake where steam still flows into the air. “I hope you like cakes.”
“Cakes are fine,” Yoongi mutters, watching you wipe off his counter right away.
“I'm sorry about the mess, I tried to clean it before you come.”
“'S fine.” he says, still standing in the same spot. He is not sure what to think of this. 
You finish the last traces of any mess, the good smell, you hope, the only sign of baking remaining. 
“Listen,”
You put the kitchen towel back to place, watching him with doe and curious eyes. 
“I was thinking. Maybe you should get your clothes and stuff.”
You stare, Yoongi clearing his throat as he shakes his head.
“I meant from your home. You don't have much clothes here and it must be uncomfortable not having your things with you.”
“Are you asking me to move in, Min Yoongi?” you tease, trying to hide your natural reaction which you're not sure what exactly is. 
He cringes but chuckles, “You're welcome to stay here.” 
You smirk at his diplomatic response before any traces of amusement are gone, a heavy sigh leaving your lips. “You're right. I probably should do that. The thing is–”
A sound of a doorbell rings through the apartment, your eyes meeting as soon as the sound reaches your ears. “Are you expecting someone?”
He shakes his head. His friends know better than to come unexpected, even though he wouldn't put it past them. Without saying anything, he leaves with a thoughtful look to get the door. Something sits in your stomach, perhaps feeling like something's bad coming.
You barely finish the thought when you recognize the voice of your husband, rushed and angry footsteps. It happens in a millisecond and he's revealed in the flesh, shoving Yoongi in the chest. 
“Where is she?!” he asks, too upset to notice you first but the shock causes you to yelp in surprise, clutching your chest as you watch Yoongi shoving him back. 
However, Yeonseok doesn't reciprocate as the sound coming from you makes his head snap in your direction. He straightens, shocked to see you here but then it turns into a knowing and pained look.
“Of course you're here,” he exclaims.
“Calm the fuck down.” Yoongi warns him. Yeonseok knows better than to react to that, too immersed in you, seeing you in his brother's kitchen. Eyes moving to the freshly baked bundt cake, the one you baked for him multiple times and that's when you see rage coming back. 
“So you live here now?!” he yells, causing you to flinch as you can't move for some reason. You're frozen, unable to move an inch as you helplessly watch the scene in front of you. “Playing a happy family with the man that knocked you up?”
“Someone had to when you couldn't.” Yoongi snaps, a loud gasp leaving your mouth as your palm slap against it, eyes fully wide.
Yeonseok lashes at his brother while you watch in horror as Yoongi is being pushed roughly into the wall.
“Stop!” you yell at your husband, already knowing where this is going. “I came to him! It's not his fault!”
“No, but he welcomed you with open arms, didn't he?” he seethes, clutching Yoongi's shirt in his fists as he throws you a nasty glare. “Waiting for this moment to piss me off and get back at me.”
You don't bother explaining to him that no, it didn't happen like that and from what you can clearly remember, he wasn't too keen on getting himself involved. Whatever it is, he still helped you in the end and that's what upsets Yeonseok. 
“Yeonseok, listen to him,” you grit through your teeth, stepping closer as he refuses to look at you now that you're closer. “I had nowhere to go.”
“Bullshit!” he yells, Yoongi growling at him for raising his voice as Yeonseok only tightens his hold. “Tell me one reason why I shouldn't knock your teeth out right now.”
He is a maniac. Yoongi is a fucking maniac because he laughs in Yeonseok's face, not exactly fighting his hold as if the thought of Yeonseok coming even close to getting violent is a joke itself. Perhaps it is. You've never seen Yeonseok fighting or getting violent. You don't like it. 
“Do it, if it makes you feel better.” Yoongi prompts him with a grin, another gasp yet leaving your mouth.
“Yoongi!”
Yeonseok growls at his brother, throwing Yoongi more into the wall as you cringe at the impact. However, the said man looks unbothered and completely loosen up, showing no resistance. This whole I don't care attitude just pisses Yeonseok even more, prompts him to act violent and upon his anger.
“You're enjoying this, aren't you, huh?!” he yells in his face. Yoongi only scoffs, looking sideways to shield himself from Yeonseok's loud voice hitting him right in the face. “Having my wife in this scrappy place of yours–you've waited for this opportunity.”
Yoongi scoffs, finding Yeonseok's accusation nothing but funny. “The wife you couldn't respect the moment she wanted to break-up.”
Yeonseok's mouth opens in a mild shock, his gaze momentarily falling on you as he stares in utter disbelief. You know how it seems. It's not hard to think what Yeonseok's thinking right now. His assumptions are proved right in his slightly hazy mind. It's not helping with his anger and pain at all. He thinks you really spilled everything to Yoongi. And while you were honest with his brother, it wasn't for some vile reason to hurt Yeonseok. You had to talk to someone and Yoongi would get it. He knows your situation. 
“Aren't you two just lovebirds?”
“Yeonseok–” You sigh, exhaustion prominent on your face and voice. 
“S–” He lifts his hand up to stop you. “Shut up.”
His audacity and the fact he has never spoken to you that way leaves you speechless. You're not able to react but there's barely any time to as Yeonseok seems unhinged, seeing red. 
“Have you fucked her again? Huh? Have you enjoyed fucking her when she's still my wife? We were supposed to be a family. You ruined it.”
“You're delusional if you think I ruined your family.” Yoongi argues, scoffing once again as Yeonseok grunts and pushes him into the wall. 
“Yeonseok, that's a serious accusation. I told you, I came here because I had nowhere else to go.”
“Bullshit!” he yells at you, spits of anger landing in front you as you frown. 
“If you just let me explain–we need to talk. We could still be a family, it's you who said–”
“I know what I said Y/N,” Yeonseok cuts you off, voice angered and powerful. “But I knew you would come running to this–” He looks in pure disgust at Yoongi who only lifts his brow at him. 
“You would what?” Yoongi pushes, “You would want a single mother?”
Yeonseok's face twists in another sign of betrayal and turns into anger. “And you would want her? Is that what you're saying? Take her then. Not so cocky right now, huh?”
Yoongi pushes into him, silently warning Yeonseok to keep his mouth shut. There's nothing you can physically do. You can barely move, watching and listening to the words closely as your heart cracks with each spiteful word your husband says. It's the shock of hearing him talking about and with you like that.
You're not innocent in this at all, but this could've been talked about when everyone's calmed down. Actually, Yoongi shouldn't even be a part of it. Whatever is talked about should be kept between you and Yeonseok. Yet again, you're reminded that Yoongi is currently in this position because of you and your mistake of coming to him. 
“You can't be a father, Yoongi,” Yeonseok mocks him, “You just wanted her for a good fuck, is that it? You wanted to get back to me because you're a pathetic brother just as much as you're a pathetic son.”
“Yeonsoek, that's enough!” you yell, no longer keeping quiet but he ignores you, continuing to spit venom in Yoongi's neutral face.
“Try raising my kid–since you so much helped making it.”
You gasp, face twisting into a glare that's shooting at Yeonseok's back.
“Your kid?” Yoongi laughs.
“Yes, my kid.” Is the one argument Yeonseok doesn't let off. 
“Let's see who the kid resembles when they're born.”
And that's the final line Yoongi gets to say with a smirk on his face, completely provoking Yeonseok to the core as he can no longer stand it. He growls before a punch is thrown at Yoongi's face, causing him to almost slide off the way. He catches himself and while you yelp, hands covering your mouth in a pure shock even though you should see it coming. You've never thought you would witness such a violence, let alone a fight shared between two brothers. 
They've never had a good relationship. Though, you never expected them to come to the point where they actually fight. 
Yoongi straightens himself, thumb brushing the corner of his mouth to wipe off a droplet of blood that is a result of Yeonseok's fists. Everything is silent for a second, besides the harsh breaths coming from Yeonseok's angered state and Yoongi's calm breathing. For a split second, you think everything ended. Literally.
But you would be delusional to think otherwise, to think they're done. Because one second you see Yoongi staring deadly at Yeonseok and before the older brother can react, Yoongi's fist meets Yeonseok's jaw in a loud crack, causing him to stumble into the kitchen counter. You gasp, yelling Yoongi's name as you try to catch Yeonseok, so he doesn't hit the edge of the counter. He shakes you off the moment you get to barely touch him, almost as if you burned him.
Frowning, you step aside. 
“That's for every second you've disrespected her since you came here,” Yoongi spits at his brother, shaking his fist and bloody knuckles.
Yeonseok's too busy holding up his bloody nose. The sight makes your stomach churn, both in disgust and worry.
“And you fucking know you deserve much more.”
Yeonseok's eyes shut in pain, shaking his hand to get some of the blood off it. You watch it stain Yoongi's floor and you immediately cringe at the sight. 
He would have a lot to say, preferably arguing back to Yoongi that it could be an endless fight. This has to end. 
Yeonseok is barely in pain, holding himself bravely though as he straightens himself and stares at Yoongi before he moves it at you. “Fuck both of you.”
He storms out of the apartment, leaving not only a mess on Yoongi's kitchen floor and face, but in your heart too. 
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You're met with a warning glare the moment you press a little too hard. Though, the man in front of you remains silent as none of you dare to speak up. The cake is long forgotten, destined to be thrown away like most things in your life. Besides the blood still covering Yoongi's floor – even if it's just a few droplets – you've moved to his bathroom to take care of his wounds.
He argued not to but you insisted, throwing him a warning glare that made him agree.
“Are you okay?” he speaks up, breaking the silence as you toss away the disinfected cotton wool into the bin.
“Do I seem okay?” you question him, “What were you thinking, Yoongi?” you scold him, frowning once again as he opens his mouth before his own frown settles on his back then calm face. 
“What was I thinking? I'm not the one who barged in here to pick up a fight.”
“You provoked him to hit you, don't tell me otherwise.”
“I won't let him speak to me or to you that way in my home.”
That's a valid point. 
Yet you can't stop thinking that all of this could've been avoided if he just wouldn't provoke him. 
“Yeonseok is not violent, he wouldn't have hit you if you kept your mouth shut.”
“So I'm the bad guy here?” Yoongi exclaims, closing his eyes as he rubs his forehead for a second. “He had it coming and I don't regret it.”
“Yoongi–”
“No. Maybe you're okay with him slutshaming and disrespecting you, but I'm not. I'm not gonna stand there and run his mouth just because he's a fucking pussy.”
“I'm not saying–I get that. But you literally pull on his infertility. That wasn't fair nor nice, Yoongi.”
Yoongi sighs, staring at the ceiling to calm himself down. “That might be right. Wasn't exactly fair, but at that moment I didn't care. And looking at it now, I don't care now either.”
You stare at him in disappointment and sadness, leaning yourself against the sink as you hug yourself with your shaky arms. 
Yoongi watches you, gaze softening. “I'm not perfect either, Y/N. I'm far from it actually.”
“I'm not okay with what he said either. But you don't see me hitting him.”
“He hit me first.”
“Yes, because you provoked him to. And you fucking know it!”
Yoongi stares before an amused smirk makes it on his face. 
“Don't fucking look so pleased!” 
He laughs, shaking his head before his smile slowly drops and you're met with soft eyes again. 
“He would've left if we just–I don't know–but I'm sure there could've been no violence. He's hurt, Yoongi. I left him because I was no longer happy in that marriage. He's heartbroken.”
“Are you making excuses for him?”
“No!” you automatically argue.
“Sure sounds like it.” Yoongi scoffs.
You groan, rubbing the side of your face in frustration. 
“You're here scolding me and raising your voice when he came here and insulted not just me, but you too. And you're still trying to understand him?”
“It's because I know why he feels like that! It doesn't mean it's right! This could've gone so differently–and you just kept going. I told you guys to stop–but you ignored me and provoked him–” You stop yourself, staring at Yoongi who just stands in the middle of his bathroom watching you silently. His brows lift up causing you to sigh in defeat. “I'm sorry. I'm taking it out on you because you're here.”
Yoongi stays silent for a moment, letting you drown in your frustration and regret. His point is proven, he has nothing else to say. 
“Obviously I know he's not right either. What he did was stupid–he already came here angry and to see me here–” You sigh, sniffling a little as you turn around to grip the sink. You breathe through the urge to cry and break in front of Yoongi. “I know we talked about this but I should've never come here. This would not happen if I wasn't here.”
“Stop,” he stops you. Lifting up your gaze, you meet his eyes in the reflection of his mirror. “It's not your fault he acted like an asshole.”
“Yoongi, but in a way I provoked him too by coming here. By staying here.”
“That's messed up to think that,” he still argues back. “You know why you came here. Come on, we talked about this. Stop putting more blame onto yourself. He doesn't do it and you shouldn't either.”
“Because I know what I am saying is the truth.”
“It's your truth,” Yoongi points out, walking closer to you. “Know what I'm sayin'?”
You sniffle, “No.”
He laughs silently, eyes crinkling at the ends as his teeth are on full display. He turns you around by gently gripping onto your shoulder. You're stubborn, not wanting to face him as he nudges your chin to look up at him. His thumbs brushes underneath your eyes, preventing the tears sliding down your cheeks. 
“You know, you're just stubborn.” he muses amusingly and softly, just like his sound is. “Now I'm going to wipe the mess in the kitchen and will make us some tea.”
You stare at him in disbelief, seeing him taking a few steps away from you. He turns his back to you, ready to walk out. But he stops in his tracks. 
“And Y/N?”
You look at him with watery eyes. 
“Don't think of running away.”
It's a simple sentence, a tiny bit teasing on his part and you barely manage to break a smile. He does not stay for any longer, taking care of the mess in his kitchen just like he said he would.
When you join him, you see him wiping the last remains of your husband's blood before his kitchen is just as new. Yoongi tells you to sit on the couch and turn on a movie. You don't argue even though watching a movie is the last thing on your wishlist. He joins you shortly after. The bundt cake sliced neatly on a plate, accompanied with two cups of tea. He munches on the cake throughout the movie, even offers you to eat but you shake your head at him, declining his offer. 
He manages to eat all the slices, handing you a blanket when he sees you hugging yourself. 
“Yoongi?” you speak silently throughout the movie. 
“Hm?” 
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
The side of your face pressed against the couch, you stare up at him. “For everything.”
“Are you getting sentimental for me?” he muses, turning it into fun and you realize, you prefer it that way. It loosens up the entire moment and situation, even if just a little bit.
“No, just thankful. I know it sounded like I blamed you, it was wrong of me. You were just here and I let my frustration out on you.”
He smiles, shaking his head as if silently telling you to let it go. “I told you I'm not perfect. I am to be blamed for a lot of things. But I don't regret it.”
“Even if your knuckles are cracked?”
A silent laugh comes from the side. “They're not fully cracked but yeah, even then.”
For the first time after the fight, you let a laugh out of yourself as well.
“Come on, you should go to bed. We'll talk about it more tomorrow.”
“Talk about it?” you question, swallowing down a yawn that wants to let out. He's right. You're tired and should go to bed. 
“The clothes, you need to get them. I will go with you.”
You sit up, hair a little bit ruffled which makes Yoongi stifle back a laugh. “You will? You sure?”
“Yeah, I don't mind.” 
He doesn't tell you that he doesn't want you to interact with Yeonseok, just in case he's there. Considering how shaken up you're from their interaction earlier, and yours too, you shouldn't go through that alone. You're pregnant for fuck sake. You've been through a lot while carrying a fucking human inside of you. That shit is mental.
He makes it sound easy, so easy that you just as easily agree and stand up to move to the bedroom. You linger at the edge of the couch, thinking about still having to change your clothes and take a quick shower. 
“It's probably weird, especially after Yeonseok's outburst but you should sleep in the bedroom tonight as well.”
“Don't listen to him,” he says simply, “But are you sure though?”
“Yeah, I don't mind.” you repeat his earlier words, smiling at it which causes him to chuckle at your slight teasing. 
“Fine, my back will thank you tomorrow.”
Laughing, you retrieve to the bedroom to get your sleeping clothes that consist of Yoongi's oversized shirt and a pair of shorts. God, you really need your own clothes.
While you're in the shower, Yoongi lets the movie continue without actually paying any attention to it. His knuckles slightly burn, the skin there trying to heal. A side of his jaw hurts but knowing Yeonseok's in a worse state makes it better. It's a little bit childish, he admits that but that asshole deserved it. He thinks he can just punch him and not expect a punch back? 
His parents would curse the shit out of him. Regardless if Yeonseok was the first one to attack, Yoongi would be painted as the one that's violent because he fought back. Fuck. He can already hear their potential words so clearly.
You shouldn't have fought back.
It's your fault he's angry.
They've always seen him in a bad light. Partly, he doesn't blame them. He's always been more controversial and wild than his brother. The thing is it wasn't accepted in the family and was approached with a massive hit of criticism and negativity. Partly, Yoongi blames them for how he turned out. 
Reaching for his phone, he dials Jimin's number without a second thought. He had enough time to think this through and know that he promised something, he can't change it. He would look like a total asshole. Plus, he doesn't want to change it. Somehow, you've grown to like him. It's embarrassing to admit, but seeing you in such a poor state makes him pity you. You would hate him for these thoughts, that much he knows. 
“Bro, it's like night.” Jimin accepts the call with a scolding tone.
“I need you to take tomorrow's appointments.”
“Why? Are you okay?” he asks immediately, tone changing to a confused one. Yoongi has never canceled any of his appointments. A part of keeping his business good and professional, he always dedicated all of his time there. He's not surprised by Jimin's confusion.
“Yeah, I just have some errands to run and I won't be able to be there for a whole day.” He gives a brief explanation, not giving any details. 
It's not like he doesn't want to share. Even though he's not a sharing type and keeps stuff to himself, he doesn't see any point in sharing a huge portion of your mess that is called life. It just doesn't seem fair at all.
“Dude, everyone's gonna be mad. They want you, you know that!” Jimin argues, panicking which is understandable. 
Yoongi doesn't brag about it, but he knows most clients come to him for their tattoos specifically. Everyone in his team is good, he doesn't doubt it. But even they know how some people come to the studio specifically for Yoongi. 
“I can't reschedule them, I'm fully packed.”
“Duh, I know that! What are you even doing Yoongi?”
“None of your business,” Yoongi answers calmly and casually, causing his friend to groan loudly into the receiver. “Just do it. If they don't wanna get tattooed, just give them back their deposit. Or reschedule their appointments, though they might wait months.”
“This better be worth it.” He hears him mumble.
“It's a family emergency.” It's the only explanation Yoongi offers him.
“Family? You don't care about your family.” Jimin points out the obvious, causing Yoongi to purse his lips slightly offended. 
It's not like he doesn't care about them. Sure, he seems like it but it's not exactly the truth. He doesn't blame Jimin for thinking it though. He made it seem and obvious as if he doesn't care about them. In some fucked up twisted way, he does. 
“Thanks, I owe you.” Yoongi ignores his previous words, not putting them any more attention than he already did by listening to them. 
“You bet…” Jimin mutters under his breath, not having enough time to complain as his kind friend ends the call with that.
Later after he takes a shower while you're already in bed, he joins you. He thinks you're asleep but by the sound of your breathing and fidgeting, you're still awake.
“Can't sleep?”
You flinch a little, probably surprised by his sudden voice and the fact he's aware of you being awake. “It's the baby.”
“Is something wrong?” Yoongi asks right away without thinking of it. He lays back, clearing his throat as he stares at the plain ceiling instead. The entire bedroom is swallowed in darkness, letting only moonlight in. He has noticed you prefer sleeping that way and he doesn't have the heart to close curtains. 
“No,” you giggle, “She's just moving a lot. Sometimes even kicks me.”
“She… she does?” Yoongi asks, unsure. He has zero knowledge about babies. Let alone how it properly works inside a woman's uterus. It's pretty laughable because he's that clueless.
“Yeah, probably won't let me sleep for a while.”
“What a brat.” Yoongi mutters and you gasp, elbowing his side as he cackles at you. 
“You did not just say that,” you exclaim, offended as he continues to laugh silently under his breath. “She's been an active baby lately.” 
You've no idea why you're even telling him that. Something just wants you to fill up the sentence. You and him don't talk about the baby a lot. It seems like a taboo topic for understandable reasons and that's solely for not making it too weird.
Yoongi's quiet and while your eyes have adjusted to the darkness, you can clearly see him fully awake with eyes open, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling. You turn to your side, hissing when you feel a light kick in your ribs coming from inside.
“What are you thinking about?”
He doesn't look like he wants to answer, something holding him back. But then he probably seems awkward enough so he swallows, shrugging.
“My mom always said I moved a lot and shit like that. You know–like when she was pregnant.”
The hint of something that has been secretive but very obvious to you from the start causes your breath to catch in your throat. You've never openly talked about the baby being biologically Yoongi's. It's not something you can forget and despite not talking about it, you've been thinking about it almost all the time.
“Oh…”
“Yeah…” he mutters. “Is that weird shit to say?”
“It's not weird,” you assure him softly. Kind of. “I actually find it interesting. If it… if it was a stranger I probably wouldn't know these things.”
“Forget about it, I was just babbling. It just reminded me of that when you said…”
“It's okay, Yoongi.” You laugh at that, feeling his embarrassment. It's practically seeping from him. “Thank you for that. I mean–I'm grateful for that information. Is that a weird thing to say?”
“No, unless we make it weird.” he states, voice different from the usual laid back Yoongi you know. It's kind of cute.
“Okay, let's not make it weird. Let's talk about something else.”
“Talk? You should sleep.”
“I can't when she's moving around so much.” you argue.
It's silent for a moment.
“Does… does it hurt?”
“Sometimes,” you admit softly, “But not so much yet. It probably will get worse once she's bigger.”
“God, why do women go through that?” he mumbles, causing you to snort.
“If your mother didn't go through that, you wouldn't be here.”
“What a lovely life that would be.” he hums thoughtlessly, while you choke back onto your laughter.
“Don't say that!” you scold him. “None of us have asked to be here.” 
“True.”
Again, a little awkward silence is shared between you. Well, you're not sure it's purely awkward but you're both fully awake, not ready to fall asleep just yet. You don't know about Yoongi but…
You groan when the little baby growing inside you starts to move around again. You caress your stomach, feeling as if she has a hiccup. “I think she has a hiccup.”
He probably doesn't care, but you share that thought out loud. 
“You can feel that?” He sounds confused.
“Yeah,” you nod. “You wanna feel it?”
He stays silent. And for a second, you're sure you've crossed a line and he will just go backwards, distancing from you and the entire situation. 
Indeed, Yoongi feels a little awkward about your question. He has distanced himself, not wanting to admit the fact that you're indeed carrying a baby he helped conceive. It's a weird shit to think about. He can't think about it because it automatically makes him feel uncomfortable. He never had a plan to stay in contact with you. 
He would never imagine sharing a bed with you, unless it was for a sex. And you had lots of it. Maybe not as much as he wanted but still. 
If he knew you would be laying in his bed pregnant, he would probably never agree to this. As bad as it sounds. 
This scares him.
But then he thinks of you and your perspective. He has no idea what your thoughts are, well some of them. But something about your innocent and sweet tone makes him rethink. You're here, after an awful day, not crying like he has expected you to do. He sees the light in your tone, one that's caused by the baby growing inside you. You're trying to be friendly, having just as friendly a conversation and Yoongi realizes – he's that for you. 
A friend. 
You need a friend. You've no one else to talk about it, not currently at least. You've distanced yourself from everyone else for understandable reasons, and he can relate to that.
“Won't that be awkward?” he questions. 
“Not unless you make it to be.” you hit him back with his own words, the fact causing his mouth to twitch. 
“Okay, sure. It's a one time experience anyway.”
You snort, “You make it sound as if you won't ever meet a pregnant lady.”
“I've met a few but never had an urge to touch their belly. That shit's weird.”
Giggling, you shake your head at him. “Maybe in the future, you will.”
“Future?” he asks, completely confused. 
“Maybe if you're gonna have a wife or a girlfriend.” you say, slightly unsure of this topic. Is it okay for you to talk about this? Either way, it's too late to not answer his question anyway. 
After all, this specific topic shouldn't be weird.
“I don't want kids,” he informs you, carefully but sternly at the same time. “So that's not happening.”
Sighing, you don't argue about that. If he accidentally gets someone pregnant, he won't be able to control that aspect but you don't remind him of that. He seems stubborn and determined about this opinion of his. And you respect it.
It's silly and you shouldn't have the right to feel this way, but you feel slightly saddened that he's so keen on telling you he doesn't want kids. Even though you've known that for a long time. It's a reminder that he does not want to have anything to do with the baby inside you. It's nothing new but somehow that thought still doesn't sit with you well. 
Instead, you swallow all those feelings and take the duvet off your body. 
“Whatever,” you murmur nonchalantly. “Give me your hand.”
He does, without question. You try not to think about how warm and big his hand feels. You ignore the little fluttering butterflies that set in the pit of your stomach and inside your chest. Your baby is not to be blamed for. 
You move his hand on your stomach but not before pulling up your shirt. You're starting to feel too warm anyway. This way he'll be able to tell the movements more clearly. 
“You feel it?” you ask, holding his hand as soon as it's placed over your swollen stomach.
“No? I ain't feel shit.”
You giggle, “You're an ass.” 
But then, a sudden kick is sent next to Yoongi's hand. It wasn't a direct move under his palm but he had to feel it regardless. A surprised Oh makes it out of his mouth.
“That's so weird,” he mumbles thoughtfully. 
Then she continues again, her little movements more recognizable and becoming slowly familiar to the man laying next to you. 
“She's so active.”
“She is,” you hum, slowly letting go of his hands. He lets it rest there for a moment, taking the cue as he pulls it away slowly. “Could let me sleep now though.” You try to play it cool and calm down your racing heart. 
Pulling the shirt back down and covering yourself with the duvet, you're trying to act cool like before. 
“Wow,” Yoongi says, taken back. “It's weird to think there's another person inside you.”
“Tell me something about it,” you chuckle. “I've wanted to get pregnant for a long time. But nothing could've prepared me for the way it feels. It's weird, I can't describe it.”
He surely can't understand what you're talking about. You don't want him to. You just let your thoughts run free. Some part of you wants to confess those thoughts to Yoongi. Another weird thing to say, but he's like a safe place in a twisted way. You can be honest, even though you're slightly sheepish about it. You can confide in him.
You think he has no idea what he means to you. And even if it's just for a certain time being, you're grateful for it regardless. 
Before you know it, the movements stop and you're finally allowed the tiredness to come in. You slowly drift to sleep, clueless to Yoongi being fully awake as he stares at the ceiling with the weirdest feeling all over his body. 
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It's not as if morning is any better. Surprisingly, you haven't had that much trouble sleeping and you barely woke up. Yeonseok hasn't haunted you in your dreams either, which made it more enjoyable and comfortable. You were too exhausted last night, so a good sleep made it better for you to see today's morning in a better light. 
Yoongi's still asleep, his alarm hasn't ringed yet and you wondered if you should wake him up. Maybe he forgot to set up his alarm, but something tells you that's very unlikely. 
After you've washed your face and teeth, you decided to give him a few minutes and will try to wake him in case he has really slept in. However, the aftermath of yesterday's events and your good sleep, a cause of your positivism, doesn't last too long when your phone rings. 
At first, you don't think much of it. Your father calls you from time to time, he has to when you suddenly go silent. Using busyness as a great excuse when you've been anything but that. He doesn't know that which makes the lie more believable. 
As you get to hear his raspy voice again, you expect him to start the same way.
How are you? 
Why haven't you called?
But none of that comes as he sounds nothing but concerned, even a little skeptic.
“Y/N, is everything okay with you?”
That alone should alarm you and it does, but you remain cool and voice your confusion. “Yes? Why wouldn't I be?”
“Don't lie. What's happening there?”
He doesn't sound upset, he sounds more worried than anything else. “What do you mean? I'm fine.”
“Really? Because Yeonseok called us yesterday, well today, he kept saying something about you sleeping with his brother?”
You freeze, shame washing over you like the coldest bucket of ice.
“Is that true?”
“Dad, I promise you–It's nothing like that.” 
Perfect. Thanks Yeonseok a lot.
“He was also wasted, could barely talk. Called us like two in the morning.”
Sighing, you sit down as you grip your phone tighter. It seems like you can't have a rest for at least one day. Everything keeps biting you in your ass when you think things are getting better. It fucking sucks. 
“We're going through a rough patch right now.”
“And you broke up with him?”
“I–technically yes but it wasn't like that. I promise you, it's nothing like that.” you telling, aiming at Yeonseok's accusation that might not be a complete lie but you know how it sounds. 
“Then how is it?”
“Dad, I really don't want to talk about it. I'm sorry Yeonseok woke you and Barbara,” you say, mentioning his longtime girlfriend who's like your step-mom. You know she's just as worried. You're surprised she's not the one that called. “He has a hard time dealing with our break-up.”
“He said you're staying at his brother's, is that true?”
One thing about your father is that he never really got into your business. If he was curious or even nosy, he never let it known because he respected everyone's space and privacy. So to have him question you like this means he's truly worried and the call he received from your still husband has made him alarmed. 
“Yes–”
“So it's true? Y/N, have you cheated on him?”
“God, no!” You exclaim loudly, taking a deep breath as you release it in a form of loud sigh. Technically you haven't. “I haven't cheated on anyone. Look, it's really complicated. I had nowhere else to go.”
“Nowhere else to go? You could've come here.”
You sigh, rubbing your tired eyes. “I know but I didn't wanna bother you with our issues. Yoongi is familiar with it, so I just decided to come here. It's just for a few nights, I will figure it out. Don't worry.”
“How can I not worry when I found out from my son-in-law that you're not living at home? And that you live with his brother instead?”
“He's not exactly the perfect husband you have him for, dad.”
“What do you mean by that? Did he hurt you?”
“Not like that,” You shake your head. “I had a share on it too. None of us are innocent. Look, all you have to know for now is that I'm okay. I need to figure this out on my own. You've nothing to worry about.”
“You can't just tell me you live somewhere else with Yeonseok's brother, and tell me not to worry!”
“Listen, dad. I love you but I'm very close to hanging up. I understand you're worried but you're not exactly helping me with freaking out. I told you I'm fine, so please trust your daughter instead. I'll handle it and I'll talk about it when I'm ready.”
Well, you're not sure if you should tell him the entire truth. The thought of that is embarrassing and completely uncomfortable. You're not going to tell your dad that you've slept with another man just to get pregnant. Even if Yeonseok agreed to it. 
Overall, you would spare him the details. 
“But you're pregnant. You're carrying his child. You can't just leave and not talk to him.”
“Oh, I talked to him. He's not as interested in being a father as he was.”
“What?!” He yells into the phone, causing you to cringe at his shocked and upset tone. “He said that?!”
“Along the lines,” you mumble, “Don't worry, I'm doing fine. So is your granddaughter.” 
“G-granddaughter?”
That finally gets his mind off Yeonseok. “Yes. I had it confirmed yesterday.”
He sighs, chuckling on the other line. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
“Y/N–”
“Dad–please.” 
He sighs in defeat. “Okay. But promise me you'll call if you need something.”
“I always will, dad. Please don't worry.”
Eventually, you end the call. Just as your phone is being tossed onto the counter, Yoongi sleepily steps into the kitchen with bed hair and narrowed eyes. “Why were you yelling?”
“It's nothing.”
“Y/N…” Yoongi warns, narrowing his eyes through his tiredness.
“It was my dad. Yeonseok called him drunk last night.”
“Fuck,” That has him waking up as he stares you down. “What did he say?”
“That I cheated and I'm staying at your place.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Not much,” you admit, “I don't want him to worry.”
“He's a fucking idiot.”
“Yoongi…”
“No, he is.” He insists, rubbing his chest tiredly as anger twists his puffy face. He looks cute, even with the tattooed sleeve that's on full display. 
“He was drunk,” you point out. “Surely angry and upset.”
“I'm surprised he didn't run to mommy and daddy.”
“Shit,” you exclaim. “What if he did?”
“Would it matter?” Yoongi questions.
You stare at him as if he grew two heads. “Of course! What would they think of me?”
“You really care about that?”
“If he told them the story that I cheated on him with you, I do care!”
Yoongi sighs, leaning against the door frame with arms crossed over his chest. “We know it's not the truth. Not exactly. And we will explain that to them if it ever came down to it.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“Because it is,” he argues. “And there's no need for you to worry about it too much, alright?”
You give him Really? Look.
“If he called your dad, I really doubt he got our parents involved. Knowing them, they would call or barge in here right away.”
“You think?”
“Oh, I know.” he hums. “So don't worry and get yourself ready.”
That's right. You're supposed to get your clothes today. But you thought it'll be later on, probably when he gets back from work or over his lunchtime. You just need to get your things. It shouldn't take too long. 
“Are you not going to work today?”
“No, I have a day off.”
“Really? You never mentioned anything about having a day off.” you wonder, staring at him straightening himself as he stretches his arms, shrugging.
“Didn't think it's important.”
“Okay,” you sigh. “What if he's there?”
Yoongi watches you for a moment, “That's why I'm going with you.”
“I think that will piss him even more if he sees you there.”
“Should I not come?”
You shake your head, “That's not what I meant. I just–I don't know what's right or not anymore.”
“It's true, maybe he wouldn't get so angry but there's no guarantee he won't get verbal again. I just don't think you should go through that alone.”
Something about his words make your chest warm, an appreciative smile beaming on your lips but you shake yourself out of it as a smirk replaces it. “Are you starting to care about me?”
What you get in return is a mixture of a chuckle and smirk. “I'm serious, Y/N,” he says, more seriously. “I'm going just in case he needs another punch.”
“Please, don't say that.” Your smile drops. 
“I can't promise anything but I'll try to be on my best behavior.”
“Somehow, that doesn't go along with you.” you tell him with suspicious eyes as he smirks. 
“You're gonna have to wait and see.”
“No fights.” you warn him, lifting up your finger at him to make yourself clear. 
“Okay, mom.”
“Ew.” you cringe, walking past him but not before slapping his chest. “Keep it down.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
You walk back into the bedroom, to change your clothes and get yourself ready with an unbelievable smile on your face. You fight the sheets neat and made, a fresh air filling the bedroom that has become too familiar to you. 
With a lighter feeling in your chest, you prepare yourself for what's about to come.
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i-drop-level-one-loot · 8 months
Text
🎃 Only you can see me, but...
Voyeurism CW: Dub-con, yandere!ghost, public sex, invisible attacker, non-con , public humiliation
"Stop ignoring me." The spirit threatened, glaring at (Reader) with his one good eye.
(Reader) had begun seeing the spirit nearly a month ago after visiting a little antique shop, and since then he hasn't left their side. The bus jolted, and everyone rocked in their seats, bumping into one another. It wasn't the giant gunshot wound to the dead man's head, the missing chunk of skull and brain, that made (Reader) ignore him, but the fact that they were on a crowded bus. They usually did interact with the needy ghost, just not in public. However, whenever (Reader) was out of the house, the man acted like (Reader) was an awful, terrible person.
The man who refused to give his name groaned, unfazed by the standing people phasing through his form at the bus swayed at the red light. "Stop ignoring me, (Reader). It isn't nice."
They looked up at him and narrowed their eyes, silently trying to get him to take the hint. He wasn't having it, getting louder as he started throwing a fit.
"Fine. Let's see how long you can ignore me." He dropped to his knees and climbed inside of (Reader), nestling partially inside their body as though they were sitting in his lap. "Only you can see me, but they can all see you."
(Reader) let out an embarrassing noise of surprise, feeling a hard cock rub between their ass cheeks inside of their underwear. The squeak gained the attention of one of the older gentleman standing right in front of their seat, glancing down at them in mild interest. They slapped a hand over their mouth and squeezed their eyes shut.
The ghostly appendage began rubbing against their crotch, making (Reader) hot and flustered. They wanted to whisper at him, tell him to knock it off, but they were beyond mortified at the idea of someone assuming they were on drugs. So he continued, taking advantage of (Reader's) anxiety to spread his slimy ectoplasmic pre-cum in their underpants.
When the tip pressed against their hole their eyes involuntarily fluttered open, gasping as he effortlessly pressed himself into them, stretching (Reader) open. A woman sitting next to (Reader) shifted uncomfortably, looking over at the young adult pressing their thighs together and tearing up.
Although it was only two people side eyeing (Reader) it felt as though all eyes were on them as they were violated in front of them. Not restricted by physical constraints, the spirit was able to forcefully fuck (Reader) without moving their body at all, only feeling the hard intrusion of a dick ram into their sensitive spot and the strange feeling of his balls slapping against their ass as he pounded their twitching muscles.
They were horrifically aware of their uneven breathing; the way their eyes kept drifting whenever their supposed friend hit their swelling nerve; the sweat dripping down their burning flesh; and how the man in front of them looked like he knew exactly why (Reader) was a squirming mess.
"Ah, I'm getting close!" He cried out in their ear as his movements fastened and became irregular.
They had to bite their inner cheek to prevent themselves from begging him not to, wondering if anyone could hear the wet slapping noise of their ass rippling as his sex hit their deepest parts.
The man standing in front of (Reader) looked a little pink on the face, tugging on his pants. The shame of being seen by other people made (Reader) tighten up, exciting the spirit more. "Do you like being watched?" He teased, biting down on their neck.
"no.." (Reader) accidentally whined, feeling eyes on them from all sides as they fought to not orgasm themselves.
But their fighting was for nothing, cumming hard as a cold, sticky fluid shot up into their body, overflowing around the spirit's dick and coating (Reader's) underwear, drenching through the thin fabric and sticking to the inside of their pants.
The spirit pulled himself out, releasing the rest of his ectoplasm like pulling a plug, leaking out of (Reader's) swollen hole onto the public seat. He pressed his lips through their hand, kissing (Reader) directly on the lips as they released the tears that had been threatening to spill.
The worst part was seeing everyone around them, glaring at (Reader) with disgust or arousal, made their nipples erect, to humiliated to admit that their watching them climax in public felt exciting...
705 notes · View notes
petew21-blog · 8 days
Text
I'm the dad now
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"Come on Dad, this is gonna hurt both of us. Just stop fighting and let go. You're not gonna win."
The hairy man was alone in the bathroom fighting with himself, screaming in pain, grabbing his neck and trying to comfort himself. He spoke to himself, which may sound schizophrenic, but this wasn't the case. He was being possessed for the first time by his teenage son, Joe, who had big troubles at school for skiping classes. Joe wasn't usually the type to skip school, but there was this bully he wanted to get back at. He found way to possess someone, but it took a lot of practice to do. You couldn't just possess someone asleep, but them being awake was the thing that made it so hard. They fought and the more they fought the harder it became to stay in the body. But after many many hours of possessing multiple students of his for just a few seconds, he finally felt like he could be ready to possess his bully now. If it weren't for the letter from school that came in mail this morning. Joe opened it and saw that they asked his father to come by for a meeting with the principal. "Oh, no. My dad can't see this. I have to do something." An evil and slightly reckless idea followed.
And as you guessed correctly, Joe's idea was to just possess his father and go to the meeting himself. Did he think about the consequences? No. But that didn't matter now, because his father still faught for his body pretty hard. The only lucky thing for Joe was that his father won't remember the process of possession.
"I win dad. I am stronger. You have to sleep now and let it go!"
Few minutes of fight followed and then quiet.
Joe laughed with tears in his eyes. Sweat all ower his body from the fight. "You could have atleast made my possession a bit easier than this, dad."
Now was the perfect time to hurry up, dress dad's body and meet the principal. But Joe's teenage mind went to a different place. His dad can be late. It's about Joe's life. Not him. He only has to show up
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Joe P.O.V.
"Damnnnnn dad! You have really been hitting the gym recently, haven't you? Maaan look at me" I didn't expect this to be so hot. I was a bit grossed out possessing my own dad, but now I might actually enjoy this.
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"I never noticed, how really handsome you are, daddy." Hairy pecs, beautiful biceps. You're a real man, I'd like to be some day. Well... not someday. Now."
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"It's actually not your biceps now, dad. It's all mine. Just look at it. So amazing. The boys at school would be so jealous. No they WILL be jealous. Just wait till I show them who I am now."
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"Oh dad. Why the hell have you been hiding all this from me. I would have never thought about possessing that fucker Bill. Why should I even bother now about some dumb school shit. I can be an adult man for fuck's sake. I am the man now. I am my DAD."
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"These muscles are so firm and tight. I wonder how many times a week you have been going. Might get used to it now." Wait, am I really thinking what I am thinking? Do I want to stay like this. No, this must be the after efect of possession, not just a desire to be the hairy dad of mine.
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"Haha, I'm so heavy now that I'd most certainly beat all the boys in the football club. Well maybe not the quarterback, but everyone else I might. Maybe I should get Trevor to possess him. We could enjoy being two studs together. I would be a bit older, but I'm sure he won't mind. Especially not while we are exploring our new bodies."
"Which brings me to this awful towel." I dropped it on the floor where it belongs
"Wohohooo, much better. Damn dad, the razor stays clean all the time for a reason right? I won't change that don't worry. I'm pretty sure Trevor likes his men hairy. Not like he would know what a man's touch is like or even sex. But tonight he will. I will let him scratch my beard, kiss my biceps, massage my back."
"Oh boy, I have to go take care of this beast now. Don't want to cum in the principals office. Haha, I love being my dad."
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starfxkr · 28 days
Note
i wanna sit at trailerpark!jj’s feet and ask him to slap me 🥺
*ੈ✩‧₊₊˚⊹♡*ੈ✩‧₊₊˚⊹♡*ੈ✩‧₊₊˚⊹♡*ੈ✩‧₊₊˚⊹♡*ੈ✩‧₊₊˚⊹♡*ੈ✩‧₊₊˚⊹♡
you knew you'd been bad, jj had made that abundantly clear on the drive home.
"i don't know what the fuck got into you tonight little girl, but that was not fuckin cool. fuckin embarrassing me like that, jesus christ." he didn't even look at you while he drove, didn't slide you closer with his hand on your thigh, just smoked his cigarette and let the soft rock play on the radio in a tense silence.
you thought it'd be a good idea to not pay attention to him the whole night--at least until you had something combative and bitchy to say. every kiss was rebuffed with a visible look of disgust and all his friends noticed. in all honesty, you don't know what had gotten into you, or at least you did you just didn't want to admit it. one of his old flings was there, and despite the two of you having a very solid 6 months, you couldn't help the rush of memories you got. of walking in to see them cozied on the couch together, the intrusive images of you imagining them fucking had soured your mood.
despite him still opening the door for you and giving you his customary pat on the head when you entered the home he was stoney--opening a beer and sitting in his recliner without sparing you a glance.
normally you'd sit on the couch, tucked under his arm watching reruns of old sitcoms until you got sleepy or horny or both. you didn't like this at all. so you sat at his feet, kneeling in front of him hoping he'd look at you.
he didn't. not even when you reached for his belt, which caused him to just swat you away like a naught kitten and you wanted to cry.
"i know you're mad at me...i'm sorry, please look at me." you begged in a watery voice, nuzzling your cheek against his knee but still no response, "please papa i'm sorry."
jj just settled into the seat more, clearing his throat and looking right above you before taking another swig of his beer.
the tears were starting to fall now, and you grew more desperate, "you can do whatever you want just don't be mad! i'll let you do whatever, you can put it in my ass again, or--um--you can fuck my face if you like? i'll even let you smack me and i promise i won't cry this time please just look at me--"
crack!
you didn't see that coming, even though logically you should have--his fingers were flexing with each passing moment in your peripheral. but when he did it you paused, eyes wide in shock as he finally stared down at you with a troubled look on his face.
"you want another one?"
you sniffle, nodding your head as you held back tears and he repeated the action, cradling your sore cheek immediately after. teach shuddery breath he let out made you whimper, subconsciously grinding your panty-covered clit against the worn leather of his boots.
jj gave you 4 more in quick succession, the cool metal of his rings soothing the ache when he finishes, rubbing his palm against the sore flesh, slipping his thumb between your lips and letting out a soft groan when you begin to suck on it.
"you were a really bad girl tonight sweet pea." his voice sounds strained, like he's barely holding on.
"i know..."
"you wanna tell me why?"
shamefully, you shake your head no, not wanting to divulge your inner thoughts.
"we can't work on this if you don't talk to me."
despite yourself you start to cry and with a sigh he leans down to lift you into his lap, shushing you until you begin to calm.
"that woman was there...and i just...i kept imagining you fucking her."
"aw c'mon sugar, i know i wasn't no good, but that whole situation is done, it's me n you now."
you dont respond just burrowing yourself deeper in him and letting his comforting smell surround you.
the two of you just sit there in silence, and he knows he has a lot of making up to do.
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fqiryspit · 1 year
Note
ahh congratulations on the milestone!!! you truly deserve it 💗 this is such a cool idea, i’m so excited to see what you write 💗
can i request smut 3, 22 and 27 pls? :) i really hope i did that right lol
hii babes! thank you so much! and yes you did it perfectly!
3, 22, and 27 = please kiss me, show me how much you need me, and do you think you deserve this?
bully!eren x nerd!reader
cw: dom!reader, pussy eating, sex in a classroom, squirting, whiny eren, and eren has a weird way of showing his feelings, reader wears glasses
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leaning against the cold locker you picked at your nails, bored as ever.
as your glasses slid and halt at the end of your nose, you shake them back up just to see a face not inches away from yours
"shit!" you gasp, sliding up on the locker you were leaning on as he corners you in
"what the fuck are you doing?" he snarls, your features twist as you try and remember a time you pissed off eren intentionally
"what do you mean?" you relax, feeling angrier than frightened until he slams a hand onto the locker next to you, successfully closing you in
"last weeks quiz" he answers simply. you feel your shoulders tense as you recall him cheating off you, it's nothing new, except...well...you failed.
"you don't flunk quizzes, y/n." his jaw clenches down, eyes burning wholes straight through your frames
"well thank you" you chuckle, hiding how you desperately want to get out of this situation with humor
"don't try and be a smart ass now."
"what was so fucking fascinating you failed us both?" he asked, you were hoping he'd think you put the wrong answers on purpose and just erased them at the end. because that would've been a lot better from the truth.
"i-" you tuck your bottom lip in, fuck, you're probably so red right now
"holy shit" he remarks, you feel yourself sinking into the metal behind you as he barks laughter into your face "who was getting you so hot and bothered?" he asks, you turn away from him as you refuse to play into his torture
"oh, don't say it was-"
"armin."
eren was obviously taken aback by your statement, thinking it was him you'd be so distracted by. he felt the warmth pool to his cheeks before he could even digest what you just said
"oh." he slips out, disappointment thick on his tongue as your head shoots up from the lack of teasing
"what's so good about armin?" his question shocks you but you scoff before crossing your arms and looking up at him
"okay, well, first of all, he's not a dick...he's extremely smart, handsome, and-" suddenly you're being pushed to the room next to you, stumbling into the vacant art class
"what the hell" another pull and you're against the wall with his lips on yours, once you process what's happening you push him off you immediately
"eren! what the fuck!" you snap, wiping your lips off as heat pools your cheeks
"fuck- I'm sorry I-" he stutters over his words, placing a hand over his eyes to delete himself from this conversation
"what's...wrong with you?" you say a little more genuinely, eren...just kissed you? and now is, what...embarrassed about it?
"y/n, please I'm just- youstartedgoingoffaboutarminandimsorry" he says in one breath as you stand there, shocked.
soon you spit out a laugh, not taking him seriously until you watch him stare at the floor with shame
"oh, you're- you're serious?" you say through tears while walking towards him.
"so you being an absolute dick to be for the past, what, four months was just an act?" you yell,
"I'm sorry" "do you know how much you embarrassed me? made me look like an idiot?"
"do you think you deserve this? me?" you coo, going up to him as you even notice tears forming in his eyes
"aw, now you're gonna fucking cry" you taunt at him and he looks up at you finally. your eyes moving to his red ones, glossy and plump from the kiss you shared not moments before
"no, I wouldn't deserve you" he chokes out, you feel warmth pool in your panties. uncomfortably shifting as you decide to take a turn with this altercation
"show me..." you whisper, he stares at you, confused as you speak up again with more force
"show me how much you need me" his eyes blow as you move to kiss him, hands cupping his tan cheeks as your glasses squish into his face, your lips lap together frantically as you move to undo the belt he has on
with that, he follows and strips you of your jeans and spins you around, laying on the desk
moving to your soaked panties he rips them off hurriedly and moves to lick up your pussy, you've always heard the tall tales of the monster cock and unworldly fucking but never gave it the time of day, now you're living it.
your back arches against the glossed desk as you feel yourself unwinding already.
"fuck, eren" you moan out, moving to grip your own tit through your shirt as he continues to suck your clit until your cream spills on his face
he laps at the essence until satisfied and moves up to your face where his pupils were spinning and his chin was shining
"please kiss me" he slurs, deep voice rasping against your face as he waits for your move
you move up and kiss him, teeth knocking together as you move your lips rapidly
you feel his head nudging your entrance as you buck your hips toward it, he slides it in bit by bit as you try to relax as you take in his (now proven) monster cock
"holy fuck" you whisper, he kisses your temple as he thrust the rest of himself in, you moan into his tee shirt as he snaps his hips into yours, reaching down and rubbing your clit as he moves toward your ear
"I'm gonna make you fucking squirt on my cock" he says as if it's already set in stone, and honestly, with how he's treating you right now, you're gonna say it is.
"you terrify me ya'know" a hard thrust. "talkin' about armin like that" another. "like you fucking like him" again. "I'll treat you so well, you deserve it, especially after everything I did"
"I'm so sorry" he says but it goes through one ear and out the other
"eren," you move to try and catch his eyes with the pace you're being fucked at
"this is the perfect apology" you moan, he moves to kiss your cheek as you daze out, he rubs your clit again, pressing on it from time to time to tease you slightly
"fuck fuck eren-" you whine, feeling your orgasm approaching rapidly
"me too baby, fuck you keep sucking me the fuck in" he groans, speeding up his pace as he haphazardly rubs your clit
"fuck! fuck!" you can no longer control your moans, the bell rings out and you're forever grateful as you both scream freely when you cum
(as promised) you squirt everywhere, and you're laid limp on the desk as you feel a kiss on your head and the muffled chatter of students in the hall
he moves to kiss you again, finding your lips so addictive as he gets more before saying,
"c'mon, we gotta get to class"
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an: ahhh! I hope you liked this! also, thank you so so so much for requesting! I was so stoked to see your request and I'm already having a lot of fun writing these <33
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angelsnkisses · 9 months
Text
nsfw headcanons - tyler <3
💟 nsfw - mdni 💟
A/N: i haven't actually finished the show, but it's good so far :). definitely a little.. questionable at times, but all good shows are, right? 😭 also idk why my replies are off but it's driving me insane
warnings: softdom!tyler, sub!fem!reader, breeding kink, dubcon, overstimulation, mentions of pregnancy
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• no cause this show is WILD, but, disregarding that... can we talk about how tyler definitely has a huge breeding kink? there's no doubt about it.
• hear me out, he fucks you good, like gripping the sheets and seeing stars type of good. so good, in fact, that you're too dumbed out to use your critical thinking skills to make rational decisions in the moment. and as fucked as it is, he uses it to his advantage.
• he'll turn on that loving, gentle voice of his and start rubbing your clit to get your brain all foggy, hitting that divine spot inside you over and over again and turning your brain into susceptible mush.
"there you go, so good for me.. you gonna let me fill you up tonight?"
• he asks so casually, and smiles knowingly when you get all flustered and start shaking your head. he'll lean down and coo quiet pleads and praises at you, his silky voice working hard to convince you to do as he pleases.
"no? it'll feel so good, you wanna feel good?"
"come on, do it for me.. it would make me so happy."
• he knows it's wrong, but the satisfaction that washes over him when you finally whimper out a quiet 'yes' is unreal.
• aside from his tendency to manipulate your frangible little mind, he has other.. interests, if you will. one of those particular interests is overstimulating you until you can't even breathe properly.
• he'll pound you relentlessly, coaxing you through orgasm after orgasm until you're sobbing under him. best believe he has a touch of dacryphilia, because he fucks you even harder when he sees tears stream down your cheeks.
"shhh, just a few more for me. aw, don't cry, baby.. i know, it's okay."
"you don't wanna cum? you were begging for it just a little while ago.."
• after maybe 5 or 6 orgasms, he'll finally stop. not because he needs to, but because you do. he doesn't wanna completely destroy you (though part of him is intrigued to see just how much you can really take).
"you still in there? aw, you poor thing. fucked you dumb, didn't i?"
• he'll pull out slowly, taking his time to watch all his cum spill out of your spent, puffy cunt. you jerk and whine when he pushes it back in with his fingers, shushing you soothingly.
• he'll eventually leave your tortured sex alone, instead focusing on making you feel better. he'll clean you up, or have you lay on his chest so he can rub your back. he'll mumble an occasional praise, his mood elevated at the idea of you finally getting pregnant.
__
A/N: i don't think i've really posted anything like this, i'm nervous 😭. regardless, i hope you enjoyed! sorry it's short :3.
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cosmal · 1 year
Note
oooh hurt comfort jamie requests!!! how about james with a reader who calls him in the middle of the night because she went out with friends (they’re not very good friends) and they left her and now she’s lost and maybe a little drunk and a lot upset and james is like ?? understandably very angry @ her friends but he sucks it up to go find her? maybe a lil comfort at the end where he tucks her into bed :’)
it’s okay if not though!!! thank you for sharing your writing with the world, you are so talented! <3
lost
summary you call james drunk and lost when your friends ditch you on a night out.
content james potter x fem!afab!reader
note this is kinda sucky sorry
James hikes himself up onto his elbow in the dark, the only light comes from his phone that's buzzing on his bedside.
He scrubs at his eyes that feel as dry as his mouth does and blindly reaches for his phone. He misses it the first time and almost drops it once more before he swipes to answer.
He assumes it's Sirius, like it usually is this time of the night, and grumbles a, "What the fuck do you want?"
When he doesn't get some smart-ass comment in reply, just the tiniest hint of a wet sniffle, he freezes in his awkward position.
"Hello?" he says in replacement of his harsh welcome. His voice is still gruff with sleep.
"James?"
He can just hear it, the small sound of a voice he knows just as well as his own.
"James," you hiccup this time.
"Sweetheart, you okay?" he frets. His arm aches for him to get off of it. It shakes under his weight.
"Sorry." Your voice is half a messed-up syllable away from a slur. "Sorry for waking you up but I don't know what else to do."
He sits up off his cramped arm to swing himself over the edge of the bed. "What's the matter?"
"I'm a little lost," you say. James gets up to look for his shoes before he knows what he's doing. "I was out with everybody and I'm not sure where they went." This time he thinks you're definitely crying. He freaks even more.
He wedges his phone between his shoulder and his ear to squeeze his shoes on. He ignores the laces and shoves them on until his fingers sting. He doesn't care because all he can think about is you drunk and lost on some random corner.
"Do you have any idea where you are?" he asks and ignores the anger that starts to swell in his stomach. This isn't the first time your friends have ditched you but he's sure it'll be the last.
"The Commercial Hotel," you ramble off. He can hear you trying to hold your breath to hold back your bouts of sobbing tears. He wants to find your friends and give them a mouthful but he'd rather you in his arms instead.
"Right, well stay there, sweetheart. Don't move, I'll be there as soon as possible," he promises, keeping the phone to his ear the whole time.
It takes James less than five minutes to get to the hotel. If he wasn't so worried about you, he'd call Sirius to brag. He pulls up and finds you up ahead in the gutter. He forgets about everything other than you.
You've got your head in your knees and you don't notice him. He catches where your sparkly dress is riding up your thighs and his stomach twists. He's thankful he got here when he did.
He crouches down and can hear your cries. "Sweetheart," he says. The ground is cold and it smells awful. He really wants you up and in his car.
You lift your head from your knees and sniffle. Your makeup is smudged and your lips are stained pink. You're an image, despite how upset you seem.
"Jamie." You try to crack a smile and fail. You really are happy to see him but the feeling of being abandoned overrules everything.
James encourages your face away from your shoulder and pushes his fingers into your hair. He wipes away the dampness from your cheeks with his palm and frowns. "Can you stand for me, lovely?"
"They left me," you mope, closing your eyes. The last of your tears drop down from your eyes and bunch your sticky eyelashes into triangles. James desperately wants to kiss them away.
"I know, angel. They're awful," he says and tries to keep the harsh tone from his words. You wrinkle your face because he's an awful tell.
"What does that say about me?" you mumble and try to pull your face from his hand. James stands and outstretches his arms for you to grab onto.
"Nothing," he grumbles, "You're nothing like them."
With shaky hands and even shakier legs, you let him help you onto your bare feet and try to ignore the spinning in your head and the tightness in your stomach.
You tip forward and James stables you with a hand on your shoulder and an arm around your back. "Hey," he says firmly. "You okay?"
"Yeah," you say, biting down into your bottom lip, "Sorry. Just really wanna go home."
"C'mon, then, lovely," he smiles, bending down to pick your heels up where you'd thrown them into the gutter.
He straps you into the passenger seat of his car and worries for a moment you might throw up all over his dash. He finds a bottle of water in his footwell and puts it in your lap, hoping for the best.
The entire drive home, much longer than the way over, he can tell you're trying to talk to him. Trying your best to sound thankful for your helpful boyfriend when all you want to do is fall asleep.
When he manages to wrangle you into his bed. After you tripped in his driveway, and in his sitting room. He worried you were going to throw up twice before he changed you into a pair of pyjamas and got you under the covers with a bowl on floor.
You're almost asleep when you say, "Thank you, Jamie," quietly. Sheets pulled up to your chin.
"It's okay, sweetheart. Get some sleep, yeah?"
You manage to convince him to get into bed with you before he can even manage to make a bed on the floor. Almost sleeping until the sun comes up before your hangover ruins it for you.
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nouvxllev · 2 months
Note
Hi loved your recent Jenna fic
I have a request where reader confesses their feelings to Jenna after a long friendship (you can figure out how long and that friendship if you want) and Jenna doesn’t really react and unfortunately something or someone interrupts them that forces them to push that topic aside or something then Jenna like shuts down because she goes over reader’s confession over and over because how did she not see it that what she felt towards reader was exactly the same thing which leads her to think over having a relationship with reader and how it’ll work or how it won’t work I’m rambling at this point so you can just take over from here if you want
Just something along those lines idk if that made sense you can ignore this if it doesn’t ha😅
so this is love?
Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Gn!Reader
Summary: request!! ^^
Words: 4.7k (damn i expected it was gonna be more than 5k)
Warnings: a long fucking love confession!!! you'd think to yourself how did they even say that in one breath, jenna being the oblivious little shit, r and j.o is horrendously inlove w eachother its fuckng insane, kind of bittersweet kind of just sweet, several 7 husbands of evelyn hugo references, im yapping too much about love here
a/n: first of all, thank you so so much!! and hope you'll like this one anon, thank you for the idea!
masterlist.
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"Y/n, I'm thinking about changing this scene. Just a slight bit, nothing too over the top. What'd you think?"
"Yeah? Oh, yeah. Definitely."
"But it's such a late change—fuck, I should've told Tim a little earlier. You think he's gonna get frustrated? Then again, he's a sweet guy, I don't think he will."
"Jenna. Jenna, I like you. So fucking much. It's spontaneous, a little on the weird side that I'm telling you this now in your Wednesday Addams get up with a script on your hands asking me if your idea is good or not, even if it is—everything you do is amazing—but I'm in love with you for little over a year now and it's tearing me apart so please just reject me so I can move on."
"Yeah, yeah I like the idea too but—what?"
"I like you. Jenna."
. . .
Here's the thing:
You give a poet paper, they will embellish it with their words. People will mourn over their unfortunately late mortal soul enclosed with a tomb that carries their quill and ink.
You give a painter a blank canvas with nothing but their own mind, they will create a sensation, a masterpiece, a tour de force. People will gaze upon it in awe, so valuable they will waste a fortune.
You give a musician a silent room, an auditorium with nothing but a few instruments and tarnished worksheets. They will make out of it, they will fill the room with melodies that no one would hear, yet the very vibrations would resonate with the walls.
But if someone gives out their heart to you, they will pour it all over you. They will reprogram their own organ so that it beats solely for you. They will rip it out of their chest in bleeding agony and give it to you with no price more than their own faith.
You are given no options other than cherish it, treasure it, be thankful someone admires you as such they will do anything and everything for a piece of your attention, maybe even reciprocation.
You are also given the option to trample on it, break it, shatter it into minuscule pieces that have no intention in restoring to it's formal use. Let it be nothing but a bullet to their own decision, to their own emotion, to their own choice to love you.
Jenna was given those options. None other from her friend since the day she became an actress at a young age, a childhood friend even. What now?
. . .
"...What?"
The brunette responded, murmured even, like she was out of breath. The corner of her lips forced themselves to tug into an awkward smile.
What else are you going to respond with if you're stuck in a situation where your friend of a decade, nearly how long Jenna has been in this fucking industry, tells you that they're in love with you?
You shook your head, noticing how Jenna's gaze flicker to your fidgeting hands. "I like you, Jenna. Like, like you. I love you—no, that's crossing the line. But I just... like you, Jenna. Don't you get it?"
Jenna blinked. So much for being in character. She scoffed, albeit playful, running her fingers through Wednesday's fringe, "Yeah. I like you too. We are friends. Best of friends."
You shook your head once more, slowly taking a step forward towards Jenna like you were cautious. "No, Jenna, I—" you sighed, "I like you. Romantically. Like I'm willing to be in a relationship with you like way."
Oh.
Jenna swallowed the ever growing lump in her throat, feeling her eyebrows crease yet a smile was still present on her face. Her lips parted, threatening to say anything that just comes to her mind at this point. "You… you're serious?" Her voice wavered.
"Very. Dead serious." You nodded, gulping in your own words like you were trying to swallow them whole.
"I don't want our friendship to die out because of this, I wished I should've stopped my mouth from rambling all this to you so spontaneously but I—I should've done it more romantically than this setting. I've been in love with you my whole life, I've loved you for as long as I can remember even if I lose my memories. I'm not a romantic soul, I'm more far from it, and I'll never find the words even if I'm given a lifetime to describe how much I love you. I'm… I'm not saying all of this so you could reciprocate what I feel, it's just that I'll be lying to myself everytime I breath if I don't tell you this. You're my colleague, my co-star, my friend, my childhood, my everything ever since we met on that set of that god-awful ad that I cannot for the life of me watch again. I noticed that I talk to you almost everyday, how I adapted to your weird fucking horror movies that I absolutely somehow love, how I—I bought a stupid vinyl because you liked the artist, how I started listening to your music taste, how I started writing poems, how you always manage to sneak up in my conversations with others. You don't have to even be there, and yet, you linger in my words. I would surrender everything I worked for just for you, I would do anything, sacrifice my time and all. You've been all of those and more, and it's shocking that I'm only saying this now, after five years of loving you, half of the time we've known each other."
Jenna was silent, her lips parting as if to speak, but her mind held her back. But her heart did everything to speak, yet it never came.
She was lost, unsure, afraid. She didn't understand, and she fears that you know she doesn't. She never will unless time so happens to be on her side. Breathing was the only option, and breathing out was her only relief that she was alive.
She looked at you, and you looked at her back. No words exchanged. Your hands are now fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, pulling the loose strings apart as you catch your breath.
Jenna could grab your hand, apologize, and reject you. She could throw everything you both had built and walk away, leaving you behind to pick up the pieces of your shattered heart.
Maybe that both of you will go to separate paths after filming was over. Maybe you'd tear away the contract that stated that in all your shows, Jenna should be there.
But the thought pained her.
It's painful, it's torture, it's agony, it's suffering to live in that universe where you weren't the one Jenna calls when it's a rainy day. The universe where Jenna stays awake, mellowing in her own woe, not knowing who to turn to, who to call at the dead of night. The universe where every poem on her phone, on her paper, on her notes, on every surface she had the ability to write on, wasn't meant for you.
Do you refer to that as love?
"Y/n, I... I just need some—"
"Y/n! There you are."
Shit.
Tim cut Jenna off, approaching the both of them, but more primarily you.
"Y/n, makeup team, and Jenna, your scene."
It all took Tim nothing but to speak seven words for the both of them to pry their eyes off eachother and remind themselves it was a professional setting. With professional actors and professional feelings. Nothing personal, is what Tim would say.
Jenna was an actor. You were an actor, her co-star.
That just so happens to be in love with her.
You nodded as you looked right at Tim, your gaze leaving Jenna for the first time.
Jenna was desperate to hold your hand, take a firm grip of your wrist and to tell you to 'stay' or 'don't go' like what they do at cheesy romance movies where the guy gets the girl.
But it wasn't. Jenna would've loved you if it were a movie.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The question still arises on set. Dressed up as Wednesday, cameras rolling, her mind wandering nowhere near the scene but your trailer.
What do you do when a friend confesses their love to you?
A friend who's been a familiar presence in Jenna's life, a friend who's been there since Jenna learned her heart yearned for others, how it beats for other people.
Someone through every moment of self-doubt, they saved her when she couldn't save herself. Through struggles that Jenna considered could be something to gash her mending heart, but they would offer a piece of theres in exchange for happiness in her.
A friend she loves.
It's a simple. You fold your heart in half, maybe even in fourths, then tuck it away in the deepest depths of your pocket. You might stamp it, decorate it, perhaps even address it to none other than your soulmate.
What do you do if you don’t know your soulmate?
You look for them. Jenna never looked for love outside of her family or friends; her heart was content with the familiar comfort of their love. Those were the types of love she knew. She had never felt the need to pursue romance.
Probably because everyone sees some others as they want them to be in their own head. They fall in love with the idea of them, the person they want them to be. An idealized version only they see fit to their desires, a false projection.
Most people would call her beautiful or pretty. She would pass the street and people would look at her, stare at her, look at her up and down, maybe even subtly lick their lips. They look up at her like she’s a force they cannot compete with, like she wasn’t human. Not amongst them. They will compliment her base on her appearance, and in rare cases, on how talented she is.
But someone would call her glorious, like Greece, and grandeur like Rome. Someone would call her lovely, not in a way everyone calls her, but someone would look up at her with eyes that feel like they’re borrowing, harnessing even, the energy of a thousand suns to even look at her. Like she was a garden. But yet, they would also look at her like she was an old friend. An old soul, the soul that could melt yours but still be so comforting.
And it was you.
Most people would look at her and smile. Say hi, wave a greeting, a handshake if it was really needed.
But you look at her as if you were seeing something more, as if Jenna had never seen a person more in awe that you when you look at her. Like how the sun would be nothing without her, how you'll spend your whole life loving her and nothing more, how you look at her and she feels though as if she has never been admired in her whole life. If she was someone intolerable, someone unbearable, suffering to a degree you'd rather die, and you would. But only if it were in her arms.
Most people would describe her as someone talented, art, hot, stunning, sexy. Like she was nothing but a piece of imagination to someone, like her good traits were the only characteristics that made her Jenna Ortega.
But you would turn all of those down. You would say, no, in the face of the interviewer. You would say that she was the renaissance reincarnated as a single human, that was beauty in everything imperfect, she was the art that would put the Sistine Chapel to shame, the sculpture that would have Michelangelo resurrecting from the dead only to lie back of how undoubtedly perfect and impossible to replicate the pure astonishing beauty that was her.
You were an old friend of Jenna, the two of you were ever since Jenna played young Jane in Jane the virgin at twelve years old and you had approached her as an extra to be her somewhat, co-star-in-the-future-friend.
And now, she's only imagining what would've happened if you hadn't been the big ball of sunshine that you always were up until now.
There were times that you would make her laugh, putting up a half-assed comedy show whenever she's in a bad mood, but then you'll give her space if she doesn't budge. Times where you would hold her close in your arms whenever she's on the verge of tears, and times where you hold her close to you whenever she achieved something.
There were times she wasn't proud of herself, how self-doubt creeped into her mind and slowly started to deteriorate her soul, yet you were there. You called her brilliant, a genius, someone show-stopping people from all around the world would be shocked how amazing she was and a few other words that she kept close to her heart.
There were times where Jenna calls you, telling you how filming was all too stressful and she needs a break. Then you're with her the next day, surprisingly becoming an extra or maybe a new side character to her films.
You were always saying how you would protect her at the age of twelve, and she'd always respond with "how?" with a laugh, then you'd respond with a simple shrug saying, "I'd love you."
Jenna didn't understand it at first and yet you understood her in such a short amount of time. How you knew why she always has her headphones on, how you wrote down and knew at the top of a hat what she likes and what she hates, how your laugh sounded at her most darkest of jokes, how you would bring back snacks whenever you're on a run, how you would always say 'i love you' in times where she's breaking down.
And up until now, she never understood why you would protect her with your love.
Jenna was your friend but you treated her like she was your everything.
And up until now, she realized that she loved you back.
And up until now, she realized how could she even dare to live without giving you the same love as you did to her?
People tell you that relationships are easy, that they're lovely, that they tell you that love is the only thing that keeps the both of them going.
But they don't tell you the rest.
They don't tell the pain you want to go through all for your significant other. The nights you want them to be in your arms but you've gone through yet another foolish argument that created a hole in your heart that seem to never mend, but it will.
It made sense that Jenna never wanted to be in a relationship, it was scary. The answer to a question as such was always going to be no. How there was always someone going to be hurt or inflict hurt.
But it never made sense that Jenna would experience pain with no presence of mercy to be with you.
Everyone talks about falling out of love, but that's bullshit. If you fall out of love, then there must be a reason you should've never fell from them in the first place. It's something Jenna never understood why falling out of love was never a thing if love prospered and it was for all eternity.
But the thought of being in a relationship with you, and having to watch you fall out of love with her is terrifying.
The two of you would work because the both of you are long friends, childhood friends. Yet, it won't. Because the two of you were friends. What would happen if Jenna let you in the most deepest parts of her heart? What would happen if you did? Would you get turned off? Would she get turned off? She wouldn't. You wouldn't
If no one had stopped Jenna in the midst of her performance as Wednesday, she wouldn't notice she was messing up her lines. She wouldn't have noticed that she was crying.
But she did notice that one familiar scent you always carried around you; that one perfume mixed with the shampoo you used everyday. Jenna was around you her whole life and she never got tired of it. It could be the smell of her home, like that one familiar scent at your childhood home.
It wasn't long before she felt a pair of two hands grabbing her shoulders, tugging her gently, and it wasn't long before she felt herself walking with them.
The voices were drowned out, muffled, she can hear someone saying to "let her take a break until she's feeling better. Emma, your scene."
"Jenna?"
"Jenna, please, talk to me, why are you crying?"
"Shit—Jenna? Jenna, it's alright, I'm—Well, I shouldn't probably be here."
She knew that voice. How could she forget them?
It wasn't fair that Jenna's heart skipped a beat once she heard your pitch, like you were worried or concerned. She recognized it all too well that it brought a sense of comfort in her soul.
"Y/n?" She whispered, noticing how you brought her into your trailer and sat her down. "Shit. Fuck, I'm supposed to be on set. Y/n, why am I—"
"Jenna. Jenna, hey, look at me," you grabbed her hands, your touch a bit too warm as you held hers tightly, but it never failed to give her peace. "I'm sorry, I know I'm not the one who should be doing this since you know, the whole shit that happened an hour ago."
Jenna looked down at your hands, your thumb slowly caressing the back of her palm, a silent permission. A permission she would always grant with open arms. Or maybe hands in this case.
You nodded, fixing yourself up on the couch as you look at Jenna. "We're gonna take deep breaths, alright? I'll be here, don't worry." You squeezed her hand in reassurance.
"No, y/n, I—I need to tell you something, please—"
"Jenna." You sighed, noticing how it wasn't out of annoyance but out of concern. "Your voice is cracking, you're stuttering, you're in a higher pitch than you are normally. And more importantly, you have tears in your eyes." You would sooner or later interlock your fingers with Jenna's offering another reassuring squeeze. "I'll protect you. You're safe with me, don't worry, please, Jenna."
Oh.
. . .
You know, people think sex is intimacy, the highest form of intimacy there is. 
But they're wrong.
It’s being able to realize something heartbreaking, something that cuts you deep in your soul to the point where no amount of bandages will help. But somehow, someway, someone so special could heal it with their words.
It’s where you can be vulnerable with someone, be happy, be sad, be angry, be every emotion you’re afraid surrendering to. They will wrap their arms around you and whisper to you that they’re there for you. You’re safe with them.
It’s when you realize that heaven couldn’t be real if it isn’t with them. 
It's when you realize that everyone got it wrong in perceiving them, noticing how you're the only one who truly understands them.
It’s when you realize every living and late poet was wrong in their writings, in their words, in their books. Love wasn’t an emotion, it wasn’t a choice. It was someone. Someone special.
It’s when you realize if ever you’ve completely turned the whole world against you, the time where you’ve devastated everyone in turn for your own selfish needs. Yet you will find yourself standing in front of them. Realizing you’ve spared them from your wrath.
You expect them to hurt you. To break you, to do everything within and over their power to make you experience the same pain you’ve inflicted.
Yet they will show no betrayal.
They will simply show understanding, awe even. Love. They will catch if you if you fall from the top you’ve tore and exhausted yourself. They will sing to you if you feel every melody has nothing. They will do everything, they will accept you, not only because of you, but because of what you carry, what you’re pretending not to be.
Love was never easy, Jenna knew that. You don’t listen to Pat Benatar or The Cascades to not know what true love does to someone; It will shatter you, then mend your now fragile heart like its nothing. It will let you experience grief, then peace. It will let you feel nothing, then everything. It’s not simple, never is. It’s complicated, it’s fucked up. It’s terrifying. So fucking terrifying. 
But if Jenna was going to experience everything she’s thinking of right now; Agonizing heartache that feels like mercy isn’t even an option, and peace she had never felt before, it was going to be with you.
. . .
"Jenna? Jenna are you—"
She had never really truly felt luxury in a while until she let her trembling hands reach up to cup your cheeks, stealing one glance away from your eyes before closing her own and softly pressing her lips against yours. 
What do you say to a friend you realized you’ve fallen in love with now?
Maybe you’d kiss them, like what Jenna is doing now. Let yourself bring peace in your world that is full of unjust morals—let them be a light, be something that felt half as right as loving the taste of their lips on yours.
Maybe you'd let them into your world. Remind them of how they're the only ones in this life were worth devoting your entire life to, how being in their presence was an experience of a life time.
Maybe you'd let them care about your entire being. Let yourself be vulnerable, be free within their arms. Let them tell you that they're going no where but to where you're headed, that peace only belongs to a place where you're present.
Maybe you’d tell them how you like the way they look at their belongings like it was their favorite part of the day? Tell them how they make you feel that everything is possible, how you knew that you’ll be living as much as they would be smiling.
Or maybe, Jenna would say this,
"Y/n," she broke off the kiss, her hands returning to her lap and intertwining with yours. "I'm sorry. I couldn't give a proper reaction to your confession earlier. It was so stupid of me I—"
You laughed. Fuck, your laugh was beautiful.
"Don't worry, Jenna. You don't really feel the same way as I do, and that's fine. I just—I just hope it won't ruin our friendship, you know?"
Jenna scoffed, eyebrows creasing, "No, y/n, give me time to talk, please." She laughed, then took a deep breath.
"I love you, y/n. I never really realized that, I mistook them for something lesser. Mostly because love wasn’t the right term to describe it. Love is simple, fast, overused, something tossed around so carelessly that it couldn't be something I'd say to you; you don’t deserve such a weak word that has no meaning but tarnished from other people. It’s not complex, like how you’re represented in my soul, how you grown ivy around my heart as if I’m trapped in your unbearable love, yet why do I accept such an idea that is only a metaphor that I wish it were true? It's clear that no one knows me greater than you have. It happens more often than not that people will see right through me, only to find a barricade of walls that reflects repressed emotions that keep them from entering. But you tell a different story, different words that people don’t use to tear at my heart. You whisper something so precious that I wish to hear again but I shouldn't before I fall. You unravel my soul with a gentleness that defies everything, that makes me wonder where pure tenderness comes from if it isn't from you. I've known you for long enough to know what the sound of your voice is in, whether your anxious or joyful, how your voice is the sole reason why I sleep without your arms wrapped around my body. I want nothing but to hold you in my arms, to lie beside you in nothing but eternal slumber then rise again if you are ever disturbed. I want to fear nothing, to be afraid of nothing, to have death be a mere word unless your name is next towards it. My name is always associated with me being an actress, a talented one, someone who would no longer be a name hidden in the dust but someone who would rise to the top. A glamorous world is what they would tell me, everything I would want is granted. But why aren't you there in the vision they see? The lover that I yearn for, a home that would finally bring me peace, the home that I wouldn't escape from with bare melodies that lay emotions that I couldn't voice. I just—Fuck, I love you, y/n. Through a decade we've been together, it's only now that I realize that life without you is simply a life worth killing myself to. Death shouldn't be an option when you're around me, it should be something we'll defy, an afterlife that would fail in making us part ways from eachother. I love you. Really. I'm sorry, I just didn't know what to say or do, but I love you. I've realized that."
The silence was unbearable, only now did she realize she blurted out a confession only those who're dead can say in a sentence without stuttering.
"No, no Jenna…" You pushed her hands away from yours, the action stinging her own hands as you stepped back, putting unfamiliar distance between the two of you.
"Y/n, what?" She scoffed, her voice betraying her of a flat tone, "What do you mean, I thought—" Jenna immediately reached out for your arm, her words were faltering, her fingers now trembling as they threatened to brush against your skin.
She was expecting to get yelled at to leave, to never show her face to yours ever again. But as she looked into your eyes, she was met with tears that dared to glisten your gaze. "Are you… are you crying?"
You chuckled, "You know… You know I can't compete with that confession, Jenna. It's unfair to those who don't have a habit of staying up late and writing poems." You brought your hands up to your eyes and wiping away the tears that fell on your cheek, only to be replaced by warm ones.
Jenna cupped your face, her thumb caressing the gentle touch and warmth of your skin, feeling how you leaned into her touch almost immediately. "Oh, you're awful. You had me worrying that I said something wrong or you changed your mind."
"Oh, no, never." You laughed it away, shrugging the tears that continue to stain your face. Then, without a word, you reached up to cradle her own face in your hands, letting her place them down on your lap and close the remaining distance of the two of you that were seated far too apart from eachother.
"I never really thought that you'd say yes. Or say something too poetic." You whispered to her, daring yourself to not drown in her pool of brown eyes that threatened to kill you if you looked too closely.
"I never really thought that I would truly love someone, and look at that turned out."
"Like what?"
"Like I never wanted to love someone more than I loved everything." She tilted her head, leaning forward and closing the distance between your lips and hers. A soft but gentle press to your own, yet it was fervent.
She pulled away, only so slightly that your lips never touched eachother again before they fall into the same predicament as addiction. But close that she could feel your heartbeat, your warm breath against hers, everything that made you you.
"So, this is love?" She whispered.
"Dangerously attractive in a form of a human?" You smirked, winking even, before Jenna rolled her eyes.
She scoffed, "I was going to take you out to dinner, but you are awful at charming someone."
"Take me out to dinner and I'll never make that statement again."
"Deal. I'd splurge a shit ton of money for you not to repeat it ever again."
"You pain me. I love you."
"I love you too."
And then she kissed you, holding you tight as if reminding you're more than just a friend.
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a/n: i'm in a desperate need of a girlfriend. also in the span of my 1 week break ive written only 2 stories. its such a low number damn 😭😭😭 (+ then he kissed by by the crystals reference at the end!)
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itsmealaiah · 4 months
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Female reader x 2009 bill (Dreads) trying out sexting and they end up videocalling but bill can't get enough so he comes to yn's house and he ask her to ride his face (LOVE YOUR BILL SMUT)
aw thank you bb! sorry this took so long i'm very tired currently
I've gone mad
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tags/ warnings: facesitting/ riding, sexting, nude videocalling, desperation on bill's end, phone sex, dirty talk, p0rn w/o plot
a/n: inspo from @hockeymenarehot highly suggest you go check their works and fics out, they are absolutely amazing.
MDNI ⚠️
pairing: bill x fem
Your POV:
It was late, ungodly late, as I kept on texting bill. We had been texting for hours on end as I began to yawn, my fingers still working at the keys on the flip-phone, when bill sent something that blew me back a little, my eyes widening in discomfort.
"can you send me a little something baby? just to keep me company?" he asked, and I gasped softly. I didn't know what to do, whether to send it or not, my mind torn in two. I was shaking when I replied "why?" he didn't respond for a second, probably thinking about the reason. "because it'd be nice for me to have a pretty photo of you baby, to have in my phone" I blushed deeply, my face turning a bright primrose red.
I sighed, calming myself and deciding to just to do, to get it over with. I walked into my bedroom, stripping my clothes off and positioning the camera at an angle so that it captured all of me, and when it was good enough, I sent it nervously, apprehensive of the photo, wondering if he was really going to like it.
"Fucking God" he replied. "call me" he demanded, and I dialed his number, seeing his face coated in sweat, getting straight to the point. "can you do something for me baby?" he asked, voice sweet as honey as I nodded.. "rub your clit with your fingers darling" he commanded, and I began to trace small circles on my folds "lean the phone down so I can see your pretty little pussy baby" he spoke in a whisper.
I faced the camera to my clit, now puffy from my actions. "push your fingers in there love, and hold the phone extra close" "okay" i obliged, slipping one finger in, and he groaned, demanding another. I whimpered, not sure if I could stretch out that far. "s'okay baby, you can do it" I whined, throwing another into the mix, hitting that soft spot that made me cry out in pleasure each time.
"Oh!" I shrieked, the heightened sensation absolutely amazing, feeling it all as I rubbed my clit thoroughly, making sure I didn't tilt it away from bill's view. "doing so good love" he moaned. "bill? you okay?" i questioned. "m'fine love, keep talking for me" he stated. "imagine i'm there baby" he planted the idea in my subconscious, and I gulped. My fingers were still working at my aching pussy, desperate for bill's cock. I arched my back up off the bed, finding a new spot to thrust my fingers in.
"F-fuck!" I moaned, my eyes squeezing shut. "Oh my god!" I screamed, dropping the phone on my lower abdomen, clutching the sheets as I came, my juices covering the white cloth, my thighs shaking with the force. "baby?" he asked, worried. "where'd you go?" he sounded fearful. I picked up the phone, holding it above my face. "right here" i panted.
"what happened?" he questioned, and my face heated up. "just dropped it by accident" I breathed, trying to catch my breath. "oh okay" he groaned, and I knew what was happening. He was jerking off. "Bill.." I trailed off, curious. "what're you doing?" "nothing baby- ngh" he moaned once more, and he faced the end of his phone down, making me gasp as I saw his dick, reddened at the tip, all veiny. "oh bill" I whined. his hand returned to the length, stroking it hard as I watched, my mouth open, practically drooling at the sight.
He released, coating his hand with the thick ropes of cum, and I didn't tear my eyes away for one second. I licked my lips, needy for his touch, his hands working at my body. I was in a state of pure lust, almost in a trance as I asked for him to come over, and less than a minute later, he was pulling up his pants, rushing to his car to get to my apartment.
30 minutes later
I heard a knock at my door, signaling bill was here. I didn't really put any clothes on, staying in my bedroom completely butt-ass naked as I opened the door, and bill took in my body once more, inhaling a sharp breath as he slammed the door, and picked me up over his shoulder, my legs held by both his hands.
He placed me on the bed, lying on his back as he beckoned me closer to me. "do something for me darling" I tilted my head. "what?" "sit on my face baby" I blushed, but also grew fearful. "won't I crush you? I want you to breath" I rasped out, my voice barely audible. "I'll be fine, trust me" he attempts to reassure me, almost begging. "promise?" "promise"
I scoot up his chest, gathering the courage to finally make my way up on his face, and he grasps my thighs, currently draping over each side of his head. His tongue prodded up and down my still wet folds, as I gasped, my hands going straight for the headboard, thighs clenching around his head. He slipped them apart, and held me down tightly, running that godforsaken tongue up and down my folds, teasing me, as I moaned softly, still holding onto the headboard. "Oh" I moan, trying to grasp the feeling of his soft piercing on my clit, rubbing it back and forth.
He was lapping at my slick, absorbing the juices threatening to spill, from my hole, while I was attempting to keep my noises in, my body convulsing as I did so. Caressing my thighs, he kept on licking, sucking harshly on the bud of my flesh, biting it as I writhed above him, my eyes fiercely shut, trying to keep myself awake. "ah!" I let out a whine, and he smiled against me. "good girl" he praised against my pussy as I felt a tear drop down my cheek, my hips grinding against his face, seeking more stimulation.
"a little needy, are we?" he smiles, gazing up to my eyes. I nodded in desperation, pushing my hips down even further, if that was even possible. His tongue piercing was cold, and it felt amazing. I didn't stop grinding, rutting my hips up and down his face, his nose often hitting my clit, causing me to cry out and another tear to stroll down my fucked-out face. "bill.." I whimpered. "shh baby, let me do all the work, you just sit there and look pretty, okay?" I agreed weakly, trying to nod but my neck gave out. I felt my release building up, his nose prodding deeper as I came on his face, spraying my cum everywhere.
"did s'good love, gonna have to let me do that again"
and i did.
a/n: trying to do some johnnie reqs so feel free to send those in!
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