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turtletaubwrites · 3 months

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Bend Until You Break ~ Part 1

Thank you for this request from the lovely @anemptypuddingcup for a Yandere!Law that the Reader goes to for help with a serious health condition, only for Law to take a liking to her... I swear I will write sweet Law one of these days, but for now please enjoy Yandere!Law. This contains !!DARK CONTENT!! so please check the warnings, and skip this one if it may be triggering or uncomfortable for you. This one's for us hypermobile baddies out there. 🥄

Pairings: YANDERE!Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader

Bend Until You Break ~ Masterlist

Word Count: 2679

Ao3 Link

Summary: You have struggled with mystery pains and injuries for most of your life, and had resigned yourself to suffer after every doctor told you there was nothing wrong. But when a world renowned doctor/pirate comes to town to offer aid in exchange for supplies, you decide to give hope one more chance. Maybe you'll finally find a doctor you can trust.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, DARK CONTENT, DUBCON, Dubious Consent, Swearing, Eventual Smut, Yandere, Manipulation, Power Imbalance, Hypermobility, Medical Examination, Medical Trauma, Medical Conditions, Chronic Pain, Injury, Physical Disability, Physical Therapy, Doctor/Patient, Abuse of Authority, Kidnapping, Possessive Behavior, Other Additional Tags to be Added, (Reader is described as having hair "above her shoulders" that she can brush)

A/N: This chapter is SFW, but I'm adding in many tags to start out with since this mini series will contain heavy/dark content. PLEASE heed the tags, and do not read this fic if you aren't comfortable with these topics. Some of these medical issues may or may not have come from personal experience 🙃

Extra A/N: I am not a doctor, and this is not meant to be educational, or to contain any health advice. Please seek a health professional. Hopefully you'll have better luck than Reader 🙄

I should just leave. He’ll just tell me the same things. It’s a waste of time.

You were close to convincing yourself to walk away, especially as the discomfort and pain of standing in one place for so long started radiating up your body.

The line got shorter, and you stretched and bounced, trying to hang onto a sliver of hope.

“Hello, how’s your day going?”

A talking polar bear in an orange jumpsuit waved at you from behind a small table, handing you a clipboard.

“I-I’m well thanks. How…”

“Good! It’s always nice when the captain can help people. He’s the best! Just fill that out, and he’ll be with you soon.”

Looking at the form brought you out of the shock of speaking to a bear. Instead, it filled you with intense frustration, until you were practically boiling in your skin.

‘Rate your pain from 1-10.’

How the fuck am I supposed to rate all the different types of pain I’m in on any given day?

‘Circle the parts of the body where you are experiencing pain.’

I could put circles over so many things. Might as well circle the whole fucking chart, and have them call me a liar.

‘List your diagnoses, and family medical history.’

I don’t have one, doctors never find anything. Mom has some similar symptoms, but they're so mild that she's never tried to get a diagnosis. You’re the one who’s supposed to figure this out!

You resisted the urge to vent your anger onto the page, bullshitting your way through instead. You tried to write in the most convincing way to get this new doctor to take you seriously.

This new doctor. “The Surgeon of Death.” A fucking pirate.

But he was supposed to be the best, and he was here on your shitty little island for a couple of weeks, trading medical treatment for the town's supplies. You had already heard reports of “miracles,” that he could perform surgeries in an instant, that he could fix anyone.

Please fix me.

This was it. You couldn’t take anymore trying after this. Just trying to get a doctor to listen to or believe you was almost worse than the daily pain. Almost.

“Miss Y/N? The captain is ready for you now. My name is Bepo, by the way,” the bear grinned as he took the clipboard from your clammy hands. At least you hoped it was a grin.

He handed the form back to you as he led you through the dimly lit hallways of this strange submarine. It felt like you’d entered some other realm, an underworld, on your way to strike a deal with a demon.

As long as he can fix me…

“Here you are,” Bepo motioned as he opened a large metal door. “You’re in great hands.”

Hands.

Hands were the first things you noticed as you entered the examination room.

Those hands were tensed over the back of a rolling chair, gripping the thin padding as if waiting for you so he could sit down.

Long fingers mesmerized you, tattoos etched along the back of each hand. And as you stepped into the well lit room, you saw the word “death,” spelled out across both sets of those fingers.

The sound of his throat clearing snapped your eyes to his, your skin flushing as you realized he’d been speaking to you.

As you realized how fucking gorgeous he was. His black hair looked a bit mussed, but it only added to the effect, along with his goatee, and his dark, pretty eyes.

Already more useful than my other doctors. Easy on the eyes.

“May I look at your form, miss?”

‘Oh, of course,'' you stuttered, thrusting the paper toward him. “I’m Y/N.”

“Dr. Trafalgar. You can take a seat.”

Well, his bedside manner seems pretty standard, you thought with a small sigh, sitting down on the familiar crinkly paper covering the exam table.

He circled behind you to close the door, and what sounded like a lock clicking into place had your heart rate spiking.

“Stand up, please,” he said firmly, your form still unseen in his hand.

“Oh, sorry. I thought you said–”

“Walk to the corner, and sit back down, please.”

His voice was unreal. You would have jumped through hoops for him anyway, praying that any doctor would listen.

But his command seemed to curl into your brain, and you followed it immediately.

“Why are you favoring that hip?”

“Oh, it…”

Here’s where your credibility would fall apart. Your nails dug into your palms as you willed him to believe you.

“Sometimes if I stand too quickly, it feels loose. Sometimes it pops, and is so painful that I can’t put any weight on it.”

He stared at you for a moment, and you fought not to recite a list of excuses, to try to explain why it hurts when you’d never been injured before.

“And your right knee?”

“Oh, it’s not bad right now. It used to swell sometimes, and was really painful. But it’s not as bad as it used to be.”

“Did you sustain any injuries?”

“N-No. None that I can recall.”

His lips quirked a bit before he reviewed your chart.

Believe me. Believe me. Believe me.

“You’ve reported your shoulders as being your most pressing concern. Why is that?”

His eyes were almost painfully sharp as he scanned you, focusing on your face as you answered him. He’d sat backwards on the rolling chair, his arms folded across the back with his legs spread wide to either side.

“They’ve been acting up recently. They often feel… loose. That’s how it feels to me. Sometimes if I move a certain way it almost feels like they pop out of place. But I can still move them after, it’s just incredibly painful. And then it’s weak, and I can barely hold anything.”

“What are some of the activities that have caused this to happen?”

He was impossible to read. But you couldn’t lie. He wouldn’t be able to help you if you lied.

“Um, brushing my hair. Taking off a jacket. P-Putting a sports bra on.”

“Did you used to have longer hair?”

“What?”

“Do you keep your hair above your shoulders to prevent shoulder pain? Or does brushing it still cause issues at this length?”

“Oh. Yes, actually. I used to have much longer hair.”

“I imagine you’ve adjusted many aspects of your life to cope with this pain.”

Warmth flowed into that deep voice, and you shivered as you watched him steeple his fingers against his lips for a moment.

“If you are comfortable, I would like to run through a few simple movements to check your flexibility. Many of which you can do on your own, but I will check in again if you are comfortable with me touching you for the others. You can always let me know if you would like to stop.”

“Okay.”

The doctor dug through a drawer to pull out a clear measuring device, almost like two rulers connected at one end. He adjusted it, creating an angle before setting it aside.

He never picked up the device again, and you fought not to shake. He looked at your elbows, your knees, your thumbs, your pinkies, frowning slightly as you followed his instructions.

“Now, please bend over, and try to touch your toes. Just go as far as you– hm.”

Your palms were flat on the ground, just as they’d always been able to go. You could even put the back of your hands down, and stretch them along the ground behind you if you wanted to.

“Doctor?”

“You can take a seat.”

Wincing as you sat, you shook out your legs, feeling his eyes as he watched your every movement.

He stood, towering over you as he came close.

“For this next part of the examination, I will be touching you with my hands, and in some cases leaning or holding parts of your body against mine so that I can check the range of motion in your joints. I may also massage certain tight muscles to help you relax as we move through the problem areas. You have quite the list for us to get through, but if at any time you wish for us to stop, just let me know. Do you understand?”

“I do,” you breathed, your face angled up to meet his.

“Do you consent to me touching you?”

His voice came out softer once again, and you couldn’t hold in a shiver as you consented.

Those fingers…

His long fingers were so gentle as they crept across your body, testing, pushing, pulling. You fought to listen to his commands, pushing against or holding your body how he told you.

“I imagine that seeking treatment has been challenging for you,” he rasped as he leaned over your face, his fingers gently massaging your shoulders.

The pain and pleasure of his hands testing you had brought up a strangely emotional pressure, almost like tears in your throat.

“It has.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. It must be incredibly difficult to suffer so much pain, and not be believed.”

You started to nod to keep your voice from cracking, but he pressed his fingers into your skin just a bit.

“Can you keep still for me,” he whispered, and it sounded so close that you opened your eyes.

“Just relax,” the doctor soothed as he stepped away, pulling a few tissues out to press against your cheeks and temples, catching the tears that had spilled when you’d opened your burning eyes.

“I’m sorry, doc–”

“No need to be sorry, Y/N. You have been suffering, been living with pain for years. It’s all those doctors that left you like this that should feel ashamed.”

His fingers had returned to your body, still relaxing, and testing.

“Thank you, doctor.”

“Please, call me Law.”

He was pressing gently along your collarbones as his name rolled over you, a small sound escaping your throat as you melted beneath him.

“Do you have a good support system? People in your life that can help you with this?”

“I mean, my mom and my boyfriend help me. They’re supportive.”

He took those fingers away, and you mourned them, wishing you could feel that soothing touch forever.

“I’m going to test your hips now, Y/N. Please tell me if you experience any pain.”

“Okay,” you agreed, feeling self conscious of your breathy voice. His words just kept pouring over you, his voice so relaxing, so good.

“How does that feel, Y/N?”

“Fine.”

He had your leg stretched along his torso, your foot dangling over his shoulder. You clamped your eyes shut. The sight of him between your spread legs, pushing your leg toward you, had you biting your lip, trying not to make any more embarrassing noises.

“How’s this?”

“Fine.”

He hadn’t gotten close to your limit, but he went agonizingly slow. You could feel his firm abs warming your thigh through your clothes, his thin shirt not doing much to keep the press of him at bay.

“You said that your mom and your boyfriend support you. How do they do that?”

“Oh, uh,” you shook your head, trying to focus on the question, and not the gentle rocking motion he’d started as he pushed you even further.

“They help me when… They help me when I’m having bad days. They listen. They both do little different things when things are bad.”

“How’s this?”

“Still fine.”

“You can go further?”

“Yeah, I can–,” you had reached for your thigh, planning to pull it toward your chest to show him, but his eyes above you stopped you before his voice did.

“I’ll get you there, Y/N. You can hurt yourself if you rush. Can you take it slow for me?”

“Perfect,” he praised when you nodded, still gently rocking your body forward and back as he pushed, finally reaching the limit.

“That is quite the range of motion,” he noted, carefully laying that leg down to move to the other side. “May I?”

He set himself up again, moving slow as he used his body to stretch you.

“You said that they help you on bad days, is that right?”

Meeting his sharp eyes, you took a minute to understand.

“Yes, they do.”

His face tilted a bit as he pressed closer. He started that gentle rocking motion, almost thrusting against you to help your body relax.

“But Y/N, from what I’ve seen today, it seems like all of your days are bad. Aren’t they?”

“I…”

“All these years with no one to believe you. It must be hard to believe yourself sometimes. Do you think they really believe you, Y/N? Do they believe how much pain you’re in as you struggle through each day? As you stand up too fast, or brush your hair? Do you think they understand?”

He’d pushed closer, looming over you as he held your thigh against him.

“Why are you–”

“I need to make sure that my patients have the support systems they need.”

His voice had smoothed back now, from almost heated to cool and detached.

He’s the only person that’s ever seemed like they understand. He must believe me. Of course he would be passionate about it, he’s a doctor. A doctor that believes me.

Closer and closer, his eyes watching yours.

“Do they believe you?”

“I think,” you started, eyes wide as you fought more tears, “I think they try to believe me. They just… They don’t know what it’s like. They don’t understand.”

“How’s this?”

“It’s fine.”

“Alright, last push.”

Your thigh was pressed between your bodies, and he stayed there.

“Does this hurt, Y/N,” he rasped, his breath warming your face.

“No.”

He helped you stretch your leg out on the table, sitting backwards in the rolling chair before he told you to sit up.

“I believe I understand the cause of your pain, and why you’ve had a difficult time obtaining a diagnosis.”

“Can you fix it?”

Your thrill of excitement got caught in your throat at the look in his eyes, his palm up to halt your questions.

“I believe it may be a connective tissue disorder, which would explain your hypermobility, as well as the complications you’ve had with many parts of your body. You've already met the criteria for one type based on our examination today. I would like you to come back tomorrow so that we can review more of your symptoms to be sure, and to discuss treatments.”

“You can do surgery, right? Can you fix it?”

You had gestured to him, your body panicking with failing hope. A gasp left your throat as those tattooed fingers caught your hand, his thumb rubbing over your skin as his voice went low.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. This is not a condition that can be cured,” he confessed, squeezing your hand as your body slumped. “Connective tissues run throughout our entire body, and if I am correct, yours may be weaker than most. 'Loose,' as you said. Unfortunately, there is no known way to repair or replace those tissues.”

A weight fell over you, and you found yourself not quite in your body. Your body that you’d fought so hard to fix.

That can never be fixed.

The doctor pressed your hand between his, smoothing over and warming your fingers until you were present enough to meet his eyes.

“It may not be curable, Y/N, but it can be managed. You don’t need to suffer alone in such pain like you have been. I’ll do everything I can to ensure that things are better for you. Do you trust me?”

There was something so intense about his face. The way he looked at you felt heavy, like he really did see the weight you’d carried all these years. You sank into those gray eyes, and realized you did.

“I trust you, Doctor.”

“Please. Y/N,” he hummed, releasing your hand, “call me, Law.”

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Welcome to my frustration with the health care system 😅

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @jadeddangel

Part 2

#cw dark content #cw yandere #cw doctors #trafalgar law smut #eventual smut #trafalgar law x reader #one piece smut #reader insert #fem!reader #x reader #turtletaub fics #one piece x reader #trafalgar law fanfiction #fic requests #use of y/n #cw chronic pain #cw medical #smut

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girlgenius1111 · 6 months

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we don't have to talk about it

part 2 of cool about it because you're all depressed

warnings: heavy descriptions of depression + depressive thoughts. self harm. maybe we'll make reader go to therapy in the next installment.

also i didn't proofread this purely so i can read it before bed and feel all warm and fuzzy inside

Alexia made a conscious effort to be more attentive to your mood, noticing highs and lows. You still struggled to let her in, and tell her when you weren't doing well, but it was improving. Mostly because of how persistent she was.

Alexia knowing, and just being there, was so helpful. It had been so long since you'd really struggled, and things were going well in your life, generally, so it caught you off guard when things started to worsen.

It was a few months after Alexia really learned about the depths of you mental health struggles, and both of you were incredibly busy. So busy, in fact, that neither of you really noticed that you weren't doing well. You chalked up your low energy to exhaustion from the season, and stress, and Alexia didn't think to question it.

It only hit you, what was really going on, when the Alexia left on national duty, and you remained in Barcelona. While England had been eliminated from the Nations League, you still had friendlies to play, but you'd picked up a minor concussion, and stayed behind, not wanting to risk anything for a friendly.

10 days without Alexia was not something you were looking forward too, and 10 days without Alexia, while you couldn't practice, sounded pretty awful. Maybe this is what caused your slump, or maybe it was some combination of the concussion and being alone with nothing to do. Or maybe, it was just something that happened.

You liked to think you had the depression beat, completely managed. Trying to find a cause to attribute your low mood too was your way of convincing yourself that you were fine. Normally it worked.

A few days after Alexia left, you realized what was going on. You had returned from dropping her at the airport, immediately falling asleep on the couch. You normally didn't nap, only when you weren't feeling right, so when you woke up a few hours later, you were already suspicious. This suspicion only remained over the next couple days, growing with each irritating symptom.

Leaving the house was an ordeal. You tried to get out everyday, you really did, but everything made your head hurt, and it was so much easier to stay in. And you were so, so, tired. Exhaustion that settled in your bones, that didn't fade even marginally, no matter how much you slept. You found yourself stressing over simple things, like what to reply to Alexia's good morning text, or what to eat for lunch. You made excuses for why you couldn't spend time with your teammates that had also remained in Barcelona, because none of them were Alexia, and Alexia was all you wanted.

You just didn't feel right. All you wanted to do was lay down and do nothing. Something within you ached, and you couldn't get rid of it. And with the ache, came insecurity. All the progress you'd made, letting Alexia see this part of you, vanished as soon as things got a little harder than normal. You had a lot of time to think, and think you did. About how sure you were that Alexia really didn't wan't to deal with this, with you like this.

Part of you wanted her, desperately, and the other part wouldn't allow it. It was so confusing, like all your emotions were contradicting each other. As a result, you pulled back a little. Answering her texts with shorter responses, making excuses about why you couldn't call. You told yourself that it was because you wanted her to focus on the games she was playing. Really, it was because you knew the minute she talked to you for more than 5 minutes, she'd know something wasn't right.

You were used to the decent into feeling worthless when you were depressed. It had never quite been this bad before; the regular feelings seemed to combine with the immense guilt you felt. Guilt for not letting Alexia in, and for letting her in too much. For not being strong enough to go 10 days without her, just 10 days, without completely collapsing. The guilt made you feel worse, until it was almost unbearable. Until it was unbearable. That was around day 7.

Day 9 was when you did the thing you promised yourself that you would never do again. You couldn't help it, really. Everything in your brain was screaming at you that you weren't good, weren't trying hard enough, weren't good enough at anything.

In hindsight, maybe trying to get rid of guilt by doing something that had, historically, made you feel incredibly guilty, was not the best plan. With each cut, the guilt weighing on you grew, until it stopped. Until there was nothing, you felt nothing, except the sharp sting on your thigh. You finally had a moment of peace, but it didn't last long.

Because, fuck, Alexia was going to be home tomorrow. Perfect, sweet Alexia, who took herself so seriously, and who blamed herself whenever anything went wrong.

You didn't cry, you didn't think you could, but you wanted to. As you disinfected and bandaged your thigh, you wished that you would feel the sting of tears in your eyes, but none came. Tears would have been a sign that you were coming out of this, whatever was happening to you.

You went to bed that night, not setting an alarm because you didn't need to get Alexia from the airport until the afternoon. You drifted off, buried on her side of the bed, wearing only her clothes, clinging to her pillow desperately. Every movement you made stung your leg, and you were reminded of what you'd done to yourself. You couldn't remember the last time it had been this bad, this heavy, this incapacitating. Your last thoughts before you fell asleep was how the hell you were going to keep this from Alexia.

-----

Alexia wasn't really sure what was going on. You'd seemed fine when she left, concussed and tired, but fine. As the days passed, she noticed you pull away. It was a busy break, and she had meetings on top of training and games. Her little free time was spent worrying, wondering if you were mad at her. It was the only thing she could think of, because you'd been so good about telling her when you weren't feeling right.

Her worry had grown so much that her friends got tired of how distracted she was, and told her to just fly back early if she was so concerned.

She only landed a few hours earlier, in the morning, getting an uber to your guys' apartment. Alexia was sure she'd find you mad at her, about something, and was prepared to do anything to fix it. What she wasn't expecting was to find you sitting on the couch, wrapped in one of her blankets, staring at the door as she walked in as if she'd caught you cheating on her or something.

"Ale?" you wondered, "I- I was gonna get you from the airport. Later. What are you doing here?"

Something wasn't right. You weren't mad, which she would've preferred to the empty look on your face. Normally when you guys reunited, even after only a couple days apart, you greeted her with a hug, and kisses. You were sitting, frozen, on the couch though.

"I came earlier, I missed you," she said, watching carefully as she spoke. "Can I have a hug, amor?"

At that, you seemed to realize that Alexia really was here, right in front of you, and you launched yourself off the couch, around the coffee table, and into her arms.

"Oof- hola mi bebé," she said, catching you in her arms with a huff. You clung to her, desperately, and she returned the embrace, as you buried your face in her chest. She was startled to feel that you were trembling slightly in her embrace. She tightened her arms around you, pressing a kiss to your head, before pulling away, and cradling your face with her hands.

"What's wrong? You're shaking."

"Just a long week. I missed you." You replied, but you wouldn't meet her eyes.

"Okay... if you say so. I need to shower. Want to join me?" She asked, hoping to distract you from whatever was wrong. She was well versed in how to get you to talk, and distracting you until she could catch you off guard was one sure way.

Alexia watched as your face brightened slightly, and you opened your mouth to say yes. Suddenly though, a look of panic crossed your face, your mouth snapped shut, and you shook your head.

"No, I... No I don't feel like showering." You told her shakily. You winced internally, realizing you probably could have come up with a better excuse than that. You couldn't shower with her though, couldn't let her see you. See what you'd done. She'd been with you through a lot, but never this. Never with something this bad.

Alexia was looking at you, very carefully. As different explanations for why you wouldn't want to shower with her flew through her head, an explanation that covered how panicked you had been when you said no, she settled on a clear answer. One that made her heart sink, and one that explained your odd behavior the past 10 days.

You knew you were caught, the look on her face told you that she'd put it together. She softened, looking at you so gently, it made you want to collapse into her arms.

"Mi amor-" She started, but you interrupted.

"I have to go. I have an errand to run, I need to go," You said, because you couldn't deal with this. You just couldn't. You tried to head for the door, but Alexia's grip on you was strong, one hand holding your wrist, the other wrapping around your waist, pulling you into her.

"No, bebé, I need you to stay here," she cooed into your ear and you shook your head frantically.

"No, Ale, please, I need to go," you said, struggling against her, and she felt tears pooling in her eyes at the desperation with which you spoke. Alexia didn't respond, simply kissing your cheek a few times until she felt you go limp in her arms, abandoning your fight.

Alexia picked you up easily, cradling you in her arms, and made her way to your bedroom. As she walked in, she noticed that your side of the bed was untouched. On her pillow, one of her sweatshirts was crumpled there, as if you'd been holding it as you slept. She didn't understand why you hadn't called her. You'd clearly needed her, desperately, but you'd suffered in silence. She set you down on the edge of the bed, and you stared at the floor.

Kneeling in between your legs, she looked up at you. "Y/n, what happened?" She asked carefully.

"I don't know. It just got so out of control and I didn't know what else to do." You replied, still refusing to meet her eyes. She wanted to shout that you could have called her, could have asked her for help. That wouldn't do anything, though, so she just nodded.

"Come shower with me, please. Then we can just hangout until you're ready to talk," she said, and you knew there was no other option. You nodded, and she stood, tilting your chin up to press a sweet kiss to your lips. "I love you." She told you, figuring that you might need to hear it.

"I love you too." you replied, giving her a weak smile.

Alexia took your hand, and led you into the bathroom. She turned the shower on, setting it to the exact temperature you would have, and your heart clenched at the small gesture. She turned back to you, and you felt your lip start to tremble, knowing what you needed to do.

"Mi niña bonita, it's going to be okay, I promise." She said, noticing the tears in your eyes. She gently tugged your top and bra off, trailing kisses down your chest and stomach as she kneeled in front of you. There was nothing sexual about the actions, she was simply trying to bring you any comfort she could. She rested her hands on the waistband of the sweatpants you had on, looking up at you, waiting for you to be ready.

"Are you mad?" you asked, squeezing your eyes shut.

"No. I'm not mad, I could never be mad. Not for this," she promised, and you opened your eyes, looking down at her. She was looking up at you, green eyes wide with such sincerity, you nodded, giving her the go ahead.

Alexia tugged your pants and underwear down together, carefully lifting the waistband over the bandage on your thigh. She worked to keep her face neutral, which was hard. The brown bandage covered up so much of your thigh, all of your old scars were covered by it. She bit her lip, trying to withhold her emotions for now. You needed her, which she was reminded when she looked back up at you, to see you staring at the ceiling.

"Amor, can I take this off?" she asked. Now that she knew you had clearly properly cared for the cuts, she didn't need to take the bandage off, and she wouldn't make you. She wanted to see, though, see how bad it was. She had to know, if she was going to be able to help. One cut was a lot different than ten.

You looked back down at her, taking a second before answering. everything in you was telling you to say no, but hiding things hadn't been working so well. It was what got you on the bathroom floor with a razor blade yesterday, and now, with your girlfriend kneeled at your feet, thumbs rubbing gentle circles into the skin of your thigh.

"I'll do it," you told her, taking a deep breath. You reached your hands down from where they held tight to the counter, ignoring the way they shook. You tugged on the bandage, not bothering to be gentle as you peeled it off. You wouldn't look, you couldn't. You heard Alexia's intake of breath at the sight, and you felt a tear drop from your face. You felt something featherlight touch the partially healed cuts, and you looked down on instinct. Alexia was placing a light kiss on every cut, and you couldn't hold back anymore.

Letting out a sob, you cried harder than you had in a long time. "I'm sorry, Ale, I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry." Alexia was up in a flash, cradling you against her as you cried. Her hands rubbed up and down your bare back as she spoke quietly in your ear.

"It's okay, you don't need to be sorry, mi amor. I love you. It's all going to be okay. Estoy aquí, no voy a ninguna. Te tengo, para siempre," she murmured.

She got you to stop crying, if only slightly, and pulled you into the shower, after taking her own clothes off. It was a blur, you knew she washed your hair, and you knew she was talking to you the whole time, but suddenly, you were sitting on the bed again, and she was carefully wrapping up your thigh.

"Feel okay?" she asked, once she'd secured the bandage on. You told her it did and she sent you a soft smile, before pulling clothes on you both. Alexia gave you your favorite sweatshirt of hers, an old Barca crewneck, and herself pulled on one of yours, a grey, ripped and faded hoodie, that she swore was the softest thing you owned.

Carefully, she brushed your hair out, tying it back in a loose braid, knowing you hated when your wet hair got your shirt all wet. She brushed through her own hair quickly, not daring to leave your side. It was silent as she did so. You were truly astounded with the level of care with which she was treating you. It made you feel like the thoughts that had been swirling around your brain for days might be wrong.

Alexia made the bed, then, knowing you preferred to lay on top of the covers with a blanket during the day, before laying down, and opening her arms for you to join her. You crawled up the bed, settling down with your back to her chest, lacing your fingers with hers, and pulling her arms to wrap around your body.

It was calming, feeling the rise and fall of your girlfriend's chest under you, feeling her chin rest lightly on the top of your head. Alexia wasn't sure what to say, where to start. She had so many questions. Luckily, it had seemed you'd found your voice, as you spoke.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you it was bad again," you rasped, throat somewhat raw from crying.

"Why didn't you?" she questioned.

"It wasn't on purpose at first. And then suddenly it was so bad and I didn't want you to know. I was worried it would be too much. I felt so guilty, like I was letting you down by not calling, but like I couldn't burden you with it."

Alexia hummed in response, thinking carefully about her next words. "Bebé, did you really think I'd be mad at you?"

"Yeah. When I get like this, I just. Convince myself that I'm not good enough for you, and I'm so scared that if I mess up, you'll leave."

"I'm not leaving. Ever. No matter what," she promised. "Can you tell me why? What were you thinking that made you do that to yourself?" You took a deep breath at her words, and you felt her arms tighten around you, just slightly.

"I felt like a bad person. I couldn't even make it 10 days without you, I was such a mess. I couldn't feel anything, but this insane guilt, all I could hear was my brain telling me that I'm not good. I just needed it to stop." It was the most you'd ever told anyone. You felt Alexia deserved an actual explanation, and you trusted her. You really did, even though sometimes it seemed like you didn't. It was you that you didn't trust as much.

"Did it work?"

"For a bit. Then all I could think was that you were going to be disappointed in me." You felt her shake her head behind you.

"Never. You are good, mi niña, you are so good. You are kind, and thoughtful, and you always make me laugh. When I get to make you smile, it's better than scoring 100 goals in Camp Nou. You are the most important thing to me."

"And it makes me chest hurt, to think of you doing this, to think that your thoughts were so bad, you didn't feel like you had another choice. You always have another choice, mi amor. You can always call me when you need me. When you feel like that, and your brain isn't being very nice to you, I will remind you every time that it's wrong." she paused.

"And I don't want you to feel like you need to hide it from me if you hurt yourself. I want to know, because I love you, and I care about you, and I want you to be safe, and happy, and healthy. I'll never be mad, mi amor. I want to help, but I can only do that if you let me, if you trust me," she finished, wishing she could see your face.

"I trust you. I promise I do, I just got so scared that it would be too much this time."

"You will never be too much for me," she responded firmly.

"I promise that if this happens again, I'll tell you. I promise," you repeated, promising yourself as well. Alexia kissed the top of your head in response. You shifted on top of her, rolling onto your stomach, resting your chin on her chest to look at her. Her thumb came up to gently wipe a tear off your face.

"Thank you. I know you said you don't mind, that you aren't mad, but you don't have to be as perfect, as patient, as you are."

"You are perfect, mi niña, you'll always be perfect. My most perfect girl," she said. You couldn't find a trace of doubt in her face. You looked up at her for a few more seconds, and she looked down at you, watching as you decided whether or not to speak.

"What is it?" she asked gently, watching as you fought back tears once again.

"It's stupid," you replied, and she raised an eyebrow at you. "I was clean for 4 years, and now I'm not. I have to go back to day 1, Ale, and I don't know how." You told her, vulnerability clear on your face.

"That's not stupid, not at all. We'll do it again, together. It'll be easier this, time because I'm not letting you do any of it alone. We'll get you to 4 years again, and 5 and 6. And if you slip up, we'll deal with that too. You aren't doing this by yourself, we'll figure it out. I promise."

"How do you always know what to say?" you asked, sniffling.

She chuckled lightly, and it was the first real smile you'd seen on her face since she'd walked through the door. "Because I know you, and I know how your brain works. I know that it's telling you, all the time, that I'm going to leave. All I need to do is promise that I'm not going anywhere, because I'm not. Being here, it's the easiest thing in the world, because you are so easy to love, so easy to be with."

Alexia tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, looking at you with an adoring face that you couldn't help but return. The force of her love for you tended to knock you off your feet, sometimes. You only really believed it, believed her, because you knew it was how you felt about her. You saw your love for her reflected in her eyes at you, and if anything was going to get you through this, it was the knowledge that she wanted to be here. That she loved you, no matter what. You knew she'd make you love yourself again, whatever it took.

-----

try to end one of my fics without both girls going to sleep challenge. i hope everything made sense. i feel like it's really hard to describe how i feel when i'm depressed, and i don't want to make it so specific that people will have a hard time relating. anyway, if you read this and it resonated with you at all, i hope you're doing okay. And if you're not, you will be. i promise. <3 i love you all

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

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hotheadedhero · 29 days

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In Unrequited Love - Part 3

AN: Hey, can I be sappy with y'all a moment? When I first started this story, I was admittedly pretty proud of what I came up with but I never anticipated the amount of love it would receive, so thank you everyone! <3 I also thank you for your patience, you have all been great 😋 With that said, I now bestow the conclusion to this renegade of emotion

Part 1 - Part 2

Donatello x Reader

Pathetic. That’s the one word that keeps ringing in your ears like echoes of a bug-infested cavern, the erratic scuttling serving loudly as your reminder. In no respect towards yourself, you are. All you have done since Casey escorted you back home is wallow in bed, tossing around the agonising reprieve that you are a love-strung puppy awaiting its next pat on the head. That’s why you’ve kept texting Donnie to a minimum; cut yourself off from the source and deal with the withdrawal symptoms. Doing this has you riddled with guilt but what else are you meant to do? Everybody loves somebody, right? But you don’t want to love anybody if it isn’t him. Perceivably dramatic, yes. After all, he is still a valued friend. Currently, the way you see it, it’s best to let yourself get over this puppy-dog sickness before that friendship can continue. Again, dramatic but the only logical option with April so tantalisingly strung in the picture.

Living a life of solitude hasn’t been all bad. For starters, you’ve been able to rest your ankle. Walking on it is still a fair challenge but it’s much more manageable than it was before. These past couple of days have also given you amble opportunity to reflect, as it were. It’s kind of easy to understand why one would fall for the resident bad boy in High School but a mutant turtle living in the sewers? No disrespect to Donnie, of course, but you’re just surprised. You don’t even think about all of that when you think of him. All that comes to mind is the heavenly warmth of his eyes; the soft care in them when you would help him out in the lab or when he’d be tending to one of your bumps. Euphoria’s temptress beckons you in once more in its rose-tinted glaze as you fantasise about some superfluous daydream involving him. The sweet melodies enrapture you in this cosy bubble as you curl up in bed but the sharp force of reality is swift and knocks you down before a peak is seized.

Perhaps trying to get over this infatuation isn’t quite going as planned. Groaning out into the open air, you throw a pillow into your face and continue your muffled whining. This is so unfair. Why can’t he be the one that you don’t want? You just can’t seem to escape the fact that you need him. In your state of disarray, you’ve even tried to figure out how to become the one that he thinks about. To try and curate him into being the other half of what you’ve never had. Closeness. A deeply set solitude that seemed so alien to you before you started hanging out with him. Time is slipping at this point. You swear you must be going crazy because of it. There have been a couple of nights when you swear something - someone - has been lingering outside your bedroom. Yet, when you get up to check, there’s nothing there. Part of you hopes that it’s your long-awaited love checking up on you whilst the other screams that you have indeed lost your mind.

As it would turn out, you’re not as deluded as you might think yourself to be. Indeed, Donatello has tried many a time to meet you in person but to no avail. Many times he has attempted to knock on your window only for his courage to crawl back into the ground and, alas, he does the same by retreating to his home in the sewers. What is he meant to do? You hardly message him if at all these days. Considering the state of injuries you’d endure, he’s worried about you. He has every right to be worried about you. What more could happen to you whilst unsupervised? He doesn’t want to be overly protective but he has valid grounds for such concern. His only assurance that you’re alright is when he sees your shadow through your curtain at night but that isn’t enough. Of course, it isn’t enough. He wants to care for you and cater to your every need and undying whim.

If only words could do him justice in articulating how he feels about you but he has never been so eloquently spoken unless it’s with regards to the sciences. He’s yours but you’re not his. He just wants you to be with him. If he had to - if he could - he would take the light out of the stars to help you see that. Anything for you to understand just how much he loves you. These spats of poetry are easy enough to site to himself but he knows he would tumble the moment he does as much as even consider reciting such lullabies to you.

Donnie leans over his desk, head in his hands, and sighs heavily for the umpteenth time this day, ever thankful that the streets have been quieter than usual. It’s not as though he can focus on much of anything. All surfaces of his brain have been overtaken and overruled by the thought of you. At this point, he doesn’t even care if nothing happens between the two of you. More so than anything, he just wants you back in the lair. It doesn’t matter if you’ll never be more than friends, he misses his lab partner. It isn’t as though he’s been particularly subtle in his grovelling, either. Figuring out that he had a crush on April was a no-brainer but this has been much more obvious and much more detrimental. His brothers can’t seem to get him out of this funk as much as they may try. Day in and day out, it’s the same thing: Donatello sulking in his lab, staring off into space and pretending to look busy on one of his gadgets. Desperate times call for desperate measures and if he needs a smack up the head, there’s only one person for the job.

“Come on, Donnie, when are you gonna stop beating yourself up over this?” Raph asks, palming at the desk and resting his body weight against it.

“Oh, yes, because I stand so much of a chance with (Y/n),” his brother remarks sarcastically.

The shorter of the two shifts his attention elsewhere, lips turning to the side shamefully. He never wants to feel bad about poking fun or laying out the hard truths of their shared situation being mutants. The bitter contempt within his brother's voice is fair given the fits of teasing in concordance with the cold facts that mutants and humans can’t be. In hindsight, he and his brothers could have treated the situation with more care. Still, as brash as he can be, Raph hates to see a family member suffering as such. Whilst his methods aren’t all conventional, sometimes it’s necessary.

Raphael huffs and rolls his eyes. “You know what you need?”

“For you to go away?”

“No,” he responds quickly, stifling the annoyance beneath bated breath, “what you need is to get your head out of this storm cloud. Sitting around and moping all day isn’t gonna change anything. So what if you don’t stand a chance? You won’t know until you try.”

“Thank you, Raphael, your input is valuable as always,” Donnie scorns rudely once more and exhales heavily. “I think I just want to be left alone.”

As heartbreaking as it is, such a wish can be respected, especially by the turtle that frequents isolated periods when he’s in a bad mood. Raph takes his leave and reconvenes with Casey for their night of watch duty. They sit atop an apartment roof, scathing the barren area for trouble that never seems to come. It doesn’t take more than a few minutes before the main matter at hand becomes the point of conversation.

“He just needs to take action,” Raph claims as he smacks a fist down into his palm. “I know we haven’t exactly been supportive but it’s eating him up. The sooner he gets it over with, the sooner he can be done with the whole thing.”

Casey’s cheeks puff up into his hands and he frowns, only for a wry grin to quickly take his lips. “Or, he just needs the expert to give him a helping hand.”

“Oh? You’ve changed your tune.”

“Hey, as long as he isn’t trying it on with Red, I’m all good.” Jones shrugs and pulls out his phone. “Now, watch a pro at work.”

Just a few blocks down from our duo lies your rotting form within the confines of your bedroom. It feels as though the space has somehow gotten smaller these last few days. You’ve chosen to spread eagle on the floor seeing as the bed has suddenly become uncomfortable, too. Rolling onto your side, you grab your phone and flick through your music, every song you pass turning out to either be a love song or something somber. Thanks, fate. Turning out to be a great ally here. You scroll a little longer in search of a distraction when a notification takes your attention.

Hockey Junkie: Hows the ankle treatin ya, everyone in the lair misses u

It hasn’t been uncommon for any of the gang to message you but Casey being somewhat sentimental isn’t inherently natural. You suppose it was only a matter of time. You have been quiet for a short while now. If this has been good for anything, at least you know your friends care about you. It’s only fair that you halt your pitiful oath of silence.

Nerd’s Assistant: I can walk on it fine but I might give it another day or two just to be sure Hockey Junkie: Playing safe, gotcha Hockey Junkie: Forget that crap tho, get your butt down here, the guys think ur dead

You huff a laugh to yourself and rest your weary head against your folded arm as you roll onto your stomach. In truth, you could have returned to the lair a couple of days ago but that sinking sensation sullies your stomach any time you contemplate the idea. All the more reason to stick to this seclusion. Without knowing what to say, you put your phone down and sigh into the carpet. The sweet melodies from your speaker are almost all-encompassing until your phone dings again. Then, again and for a third time before you decide to take a look.

Hockey Junkie: Look lemme be real with you Hockey Junkie: Gap tooth aint doing so hot right now Hockey Junkie: Can you at least give him a visit? Do it for your favorite classmate yeh?

The last cocky comment goes amiss with the main picture here. What’s wrong with Donnie and what has it got to do with you? All you can think on the matter is that he misses having someone to vent about April to. No, that isn’t fair to him. There’s more to him than just being madly infatuated with her. He’s a beautiful person of vision, albeit a little on the awkward side but that just makes him all the more adorable. Seeing as you haven’t replied to a lot of his texts, he must be bloated with a bad conscience. That must be what Casey is getting at. It takes some effort but you convince yourself that Donatello indeed misses his friendly assistant and that it’s high time you make a move. There goes your vow of distancing yourself. Goodbye, vegetative bed rotting.

Walking to the lair after so much time would be alien was the route not learned via muscle memory. There’s still an unsettling energy that becomes all the more poignant with every step you take but you’re putting that down to your nerves. You should probably text first; let him know that you’re coming but you’ve already made it to the large doors of his laboratory. As your fingers trace over the smooth metal, you think about the day that started this all - the day that would mark a start to something so unexpected that it almost doesn’t seem real. This is real. The alarming beat in your chest is all too loud for it to be a dream. It’s now or never. Taking a deep breath, you knock and pull one of the doors to the side, revealing the beaten-down turtle surrounded by unfinished projects and forgotten inventions alike.

He slumps further and throws a hand up loosely. “I know you’re trying to help but I already said-” He stops speaking when he turns around and sees it’s you.

You wave awkwardly with a just as clumsy smile to greet him. He springs up to his feet and bounds towards you, going in for a hug, only to stop himself just a few steps in front of you. That’s too much too soon. Your arrival is just so unexpected but by no means is it unwelcome. Many questions. There’s a lot he wants to ask and much more that he wants to say, like how much he’s missed you, how concerned he’s been, or please, never do that again.

Instead, he says the only thing he can rationally think to, “How is the, uh, ankle doing?”

“Much better. Some positions still hurt but…” You do a little spin on the spot to demonstrate how much you’ve healed, laughing shortly. “... I can walk now at least.”

Donnie laughs as well, glad for that much. “So, no more injuries I need to worry about?” he asks playfully with raised brows.

“Nah~” you resound melodically, winking with a waggishness. “Sorry to disappoint, Doc.”

Not a disappointment at all. Knowing you’re in good health, at least physically, is a huge relief. Between the shared chortling and the all-together prospect of dismantling the initial awkwardness, it’s great to have you back. It’s good to be back and you’re inwardly scolding yourself for depriving yourself of pleasant company. An aching heart can make you do stupid things and you’re about to realise just how stupid going quiet was. Donatello rubs the back of his head and seems to look everywhere but at you.

“So how come you never messaged?” he asks slowly. “I got worried.”

There’s the guilt you had expected but you didn’t realise it would be so gut-wrenching. He’s trying to mitigate how hurt he was but it’s clear as day on his face. You contemplate reaching for him as extra consolation, finger flickering towards his. Instead, hold onto your forearm and tilt your head shamefully.

“I’m sorry. I never wanted to worry anyone, especially not you. Just needed some time to myself, I think. You know, reflect on stuff.” Ah, he thinks to himself, Casey stuff no doubt. You blow off a cackle and shrug. “Without sounding like a complete pessimist, I think it’ll be easier to accept that no one could ever fall for me.”

You play it off as a joke - for the most part, that’s how you meant it - but he isn’t having that for a second. His hands jolt for your shoulders unexpectedly. Nothing follows and your wide eyes blink furiously with the abrupt action.

“Donnie?”

Still, nothing. Gaze turned downwards, he just holds your shoulders, as though he’s thinking long and hard about something. He is. He’s thinking so very hard about this. Even the risk of making a fool of himself can’t scare him out of doing it now. There’s only so long he can carefully tread on this ice before it eventually breaks beneath him and swallows him whole. One might argue that’s not as bad as flat-out rejection but he doesn’t care anymore. It’s time to put those words to the test.

He breathes deeply to collect himself, to avoid falling into a blubbering mess, and closes his eyes before getting straight to the point. “I know I could never stand any chance with you, as much as I like to pretend that I do, but I’d like it to be known at least. Even if you could never feel the same way, just know that you are loved - that you’re worth loving - and that… I’m in love with you. Don’t ever say stuff like that because it’s not true.”

All you can do is stare. Had he kept his eyes open, he would have witnessed your face shift into every conceivable expression whilst you tried to unpack what had just been said. You don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Both could be an option were you not so stunned to the point of near incapacitation. The lack of response is jarring yet still, he can’t bring himself to look at you.

“Oh my God,” you suddenly wheeze under a whisper, afraid that if you speak any louder, you’ll surely burst into tears. “Are you for real?” Confused, he goes to answer but you continue. “Donnie,” you breathe more weakly, “I have been hopelessly in love with you for weeks and now I’m hearing that you feel the same? In all this time where I’ve been in my own head. I just thought that- with April-” You cut yourself off and step back, jerking your shoulders away from his clutch. “No. There’s no way. This isn’t funny, Donnie. Just stop.”

There’s a brief period of chronostasis - a beautiful phenomenon in which time stills and he has the space to reflect on what has just sputtered from your mouth. He almost can’t believe it and, it seems, you can’t believe his own words either. He wants to jump with joy, spring with glee, and throw it in his brothers’ faces for ever doubting such circumstances. The overconfidence can wait. At this moment, it’s just the two of you with this air of reconciliation, though dampened by doubt. Your doubt.

He holds a hand out to you only for it to clasp into a soft fist. It would be easy to act on the defensive but that wouldn’t amount to anything. If it’s evidence you seek, so he shall provide. He walks over to his desk and retrieves a small box - the same box that you had snooped on the other week, the one containing the quaint, little bracelet that is surely meant for April. That’s what you assumed, which is why your heart clenches tightly. He carefully takes it out of its packaging and fawns over it in a moment of vulnerability. You’re awaiting words of inclination towards the redhead but he remains silent. A green thumb skips over the turtle charm and Donatello outstretches his other hand to you. Wearily, you oblige and bestow yours to him. He cups the back of your hand and turns it over so that he may place the delicate-looking jewellery in your palm, making sure the charm is turned up on its backside. You frown at his peculiar behaviour, only to realise that something is inscribed on the turtle’s underbelly: your initials.

When it all comes to light, your head turns up to meet him again. He’s glanced away shyly but there’s an awkward smile on his lips. One would think that this shared admittance is something to be celebrated with a fantastical display but it feels much too surreal. You have this horrible vision of waking up in your room, finding this to be another one of your crazed dreams. When he finally meets your stare, those fears vanish. Wild imagination or not, you could never replicate that warm glow of those maroon eyes. Even thoughts of being embarrassed about the tears in your own couldn’t ruin this moment. You fawn over the little bracelet again and shimmy it onto your wrist. The exchange is silent but there’s an ambient comfort: an unfamiliar familiarness that paves way between the two of you and closes the gap you’ve both been aching to be rid of. Neither of you is well-equipped with your words, so this alteration best suits the moment. Everything that has come to be may have been born from unrequited feelings for your friends but the birth place doesn’t matter. Value is held in each other’s happiness and simply loving one another unconditionally.

You lean up, lifting yourself on your good foot mostly, and kiss him on the cheek. His inelegant grin drops and you’re sure the tassels of his mask would have flickered up if they obtained sentient life. A primrose hue blossoms his face - one that you become well-acquainted with when he cups your cheeks and presses his lips to your forehead. With you both soaring ever higher, he pulls you into a long-awaited embrace, holding you close as your bodies transcend orbit and go off into the stars.

Man, he sure does love being a turtle.

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt x reader #tmnt 2012 #x reader #donatello #donatello x reader #2012 donnie #donatello 2012 #tmnt 2k12 #2k12 donnie #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2k12 #donnie x reader #fanfiction #part 3 #i've never written so much #it feels good to have this finished

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avengersfantasies · 10 months

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What He Won't

Summary: After being cheated on by Steve, you discover you're pregnant. When you and Bucky hear his reaction, Bucky comes up with an idea.

What to expect: angsty stuff, fluff?

✩ Read the series here ✩

taglist: @kandis-mom @missvelvetsstuff @mavrellover91 @natashasilverfox

You stood in your room in your tiny apartment – looking in the mirror and rubbing your belly. Your heart ached when you thought about the life that this little one had ahead of them. Although you knew you loved them more than life itself, they would have to know nothing of their birth father because after all, he didn’t love you anymore, so why would he love them?

“Let’s go to work, peanut,” you sighed. It had been a two months since you discovered Steve had been cheating on you, and he and the “other girl” were now official. They were a real item with the public – described as the “perfect couple.” Those who knew what had happened gave Steve shit for it for a little while, but when you seemed to be moving on with your life, they did as well. However, all of that changed yesterday when you were told by the doctor that you were currently three months pregnant. You hadn’t told anyone yet. How could you? You would’ve hated to ruin Captain America’s perfect new relationship. You knew they needed to know, however. You’d start showing soon, and you even had the prenatal paternal DNA test done just in case Steve tried to deny it was his.

You pulled up to the tower and got out – making sure your oversized shirt covered anything that may be showing. You made a beeline to your office and got settled in – breathing a sigh of relief when you finally sat down. You were early into your pregnancy, but your feet and back were already killing you. Must’ve been a side effect of carrying a super soldier baby. You closed your eyes for a moment before having to get up and sprint to the bathroom. Another side effect of a super soldier baby is the super soldier amounts of nausea. After all, it was these symptoms that made you go to the doctor in the first place.

“Everything okay?” A warm and familiar voice called out from the other side of the door. It was Bucky. Of all the Avengers, he was the one who was still furious with his best friend. He was the only one to still show you sympathy after what Steve had put you through. “Are you sick? I can take you home if you need.”

“N-No, thanks,” you managed to respond through heaving breaths. “I’m-I’ll be okay.”

You flushed the toilet, washed your mouth out, and scrubbed your hands before opening the door up to the one person you considered a friend right now.

“Hey,” he greeted you softly, “what’s going on?”

You shook your head and sat down, tears starting to collect in your eyes and falling before you could stop them. “Why couldn’t it have been you?” you asked in a whisper – looking down at your stomach that was still flat for the most part.

“Why couldn’t have what been me?” Bucky asked with a confused tone, one of his eyebrows raised.

You closed your eyes and took in a deep breath before looking back up to the soldier. “Why does Steve have to be the father?”

“What’re you—”

Before he could finish his question, you interrupted him by sliding the envelope towards him. His eyes widened as he read the results of the tests. “You’re pregnant?”

You nodded tearfully. “With Steve’s baby,” you clarified. “That’s he’s not gonna want.”

“We don’t know that,” Bucky argued carefully. “He may want to be involved…may regret what he did to you.”

You shook your head and scoffed. “I don’t want my baby to be used to make him feel bad.”

“Want me to go with you to tell him?” Bucky offered.

You looked down – the feeling of your world crashing was heavier than you anticipated. “What if he doesn’t want anything to do with them?”

Bucky reached his hand over the table and grabbed yours – holding it carefully within his own. “Then I’ll help you figure something out.”

You exhaled – trusting Bucky to be able to help you figure out what to do if Steve claimed to not want to be involved. He lead you through the compound, finally finding Steve cuddled up with his new girlfriend on the sofa of the large gathering room and watching TV.

“Hey,” Bucky called out nonchalantly – letting you keep your distance at the door. “We need to talk.” He lightly slapped his best friend’s shoulder – causing him to look up at him and then over at the door.

“Seriously?” Steve sighed and rolled his eyes. “You’re still tryin’ to do this?”

“Nah, man,” he argued, “this is different.”

Steve motioned for the girl in his arms to leave the room, and only when she was gone did you begin to approach the two men. You stayed close to Bucky – feeling safe with him nearby.

“So, what?” Steve shrugged. “You two a thing now?”

“No,” you answered forwardly – glaring down at the man who shattered your heart.

Bucky tossed the envelope containing all of the information he needed to know at his best friend. “Read it.”

Steve sat up on the sofa and started to read over the paperwork. His facial expression began to change almost immediately when he realized what was being told to him. You watched him react silently to the news and all of the tests. You swore you could see a trace of guilt and regret behind his blue eyes. Part of you hoped he’d start apologizing profusely – purely because you wanted the ball in your court. When the ultrasound appeared in his hand from the envelope his hand came up and covered his mouth.

“What did I do?” he whispered to himself – looking at the image of the peanut-sized being that was currently growing inside you.

“We’re not here to bullshit around with you,” Bucky cut off his self-pitying episode. “If you don’t want to be involved, she deserves to know.”

“I don’t…I don’t know,” Steve muttered. “It’s a lot.”

You scoffed and snatched the envelope from him – carefully placing the documents back inside. “I’ll take that as a no. Have fun with your new girlfriend.”

Unable to stand being near him anymore, you left the room with the envelope clutched tightly to your chest, and without another word, Bucky followed you out into the hallway. He pulled you into his arms and held you close as you broke down into a million pieces once again.

“I’ll do it,” Bucky offered – rubbing your back gently. “I’ll do what he won’t.”

“What?” you asked through your tears.

“Be in their life,” he specified. “As a father.”

“Buck…I can’t ask that of you,” you tried to argue.

“You’re not asking,” he corrected, “I’m offering…I said I’d help you figure out what to do if he didn’t wanna be involved.”

You were obviously thrown off by the request he had made, but there was no denying that the way the soldier was looking at and speaking to you somehow helped the million tiny pieces of your heart begin to find their way back together.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x you #the winter soldier #bucky barnes x reader #the winter soldier fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #captain steve rogers #captain america x you #captain america x reader #sergeant james buchanan barnes #sergeant james barnes

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valuunit · 10 months

Text

Mums don’t cry

Summary: Y/n’s mood changes and sicknesses happen to be more than just that.

lmao i don’t know why i put that tittle, but The Cure rules.

Content: soft husband!harry :DD pregnant afab!reader, use of she/her, mention of food and vomit (pregnancy symptom), la la land spoilers(?) and that’s it ig.

Disclaimer: English is not my first lenguaje so if there’s any mistake i’m sorry, i’ll try to correct it.

“No, i’m staying with Y/n, she’s not been feeling good. Enjoy though, oh! And bring some tiramisu.”

“ ’M sorry, H” she said struggling to stand up from the bathroom’s floor.

“No, no, there’s nothing to be sorry ‘bout. Now come here, i’ll help you clean yourself and we can go watch a movie. You said that watching Ryan Gosling everywhere made you want to bing his movies.” Harry kneeled in front of her offering his hand.

“Mhm” Y/n said without any sign of excitement. Her hand reached the toilet’s chain and released her sickness before lean into the sink and wash her mouth a total of four times.

“Think that enough, you’re gonna get sick again if you keep pulling the brush all the way down your throat.” he chuckled taking the brush out of her hand.

“Wait, throw it in the trash, please.” she said before shoving some more water in her mouth.

“But it’s clean.”

“It’s not, but i’ve had it for over 3 months.”

“Okay miss.”

“It’s Missus, Mister.”

“You feeling better, Missus?”

“I think, it was probably all the crap i’ve been eating.”

“The holidays are for something, don’t you think?”

“I guess.” her mood “I’m sorry.”

“I told you, you don’t have to…”

“No, i’m sorry for being so grumpy this past few days, i don’t know what’s happening.” she said as some tears began to accumulate in her eyes and her head goes to her husband’s chest.

“Oh, honey, don’t worry, it was part of our vows, being here through thick and thin, right?” he grabbed her cheek and smiled warmly, with her blurry vision she just saw a charming white downward D but she returned it.

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

“Now you can see me fantasize with Ryan Gosling.”

“No problem, i’ll do the same.”

They giggled like toddlers and went to the kitchen for some snacks.

“Some popcorn will do it?” said Harry grabbing a package of microwave popcorn.

“Yeah, although is there a peanut butter and chocolate? i’ve been craving some of it.”

“Hm, we have a package of truffles but no peanut butter…”

“It’s okay, all perfect.”

“Well, what do you think of you picking the first movie and i’ll be there when these are ready.”

“Okay.” she gave him a peck kiss. “This is like the honeymoon all over again.” and began to walk to the lounge.

“I hope we never leave that stage.” Harry said loudly making sure she heard. She blew him a kiss and sat on the couch.

Y/n grabbed her phone to google in which platform was La La Land on. She didn’t even knew if the villa’s TV had more than 3 streaming services.

“Already picked one?”

“I’m checking where is it.”

“I bring you some water, i like my woman hydrated.”

He let out a little laugh “Thanks, love.”

They snuggled in the middle of the couch and concentrate in enjoying the movie.

Everything went well, they got to the point in the movie that showed what would’ve happened if they had ended up together.

Harry made a pout, watching the montage of the couple having a kid, but beside him Y/n began to sob, but in a concerning way.

“Everything okay, love?”

“Y-yeah, it just...” she went quiet to hear the final notes of song that Sebastian was playing in his bar. And led out another sob. “It’s so sad, because they loved each other, b-but they couldn’t make their dreams come true if the stayed together a-and they will always love each other…”

“It’s okay” Harry couldn’t help but feel a mixture of concern and a little bit, just a bit, of fun, watching her being so invested in a movie that they’ve watched several times. “Sometimes that’s how life goes.”

“What a bullshit life we live in.” He audibly laughed at that, remembering the joker memes, she also laughed “Okay, i heard it.”

And just like that she was laughing like anything happened.

“Wanna see another movie?”

“I don’t know, ‘m tired.”

“Wanna go to bed?”

“Yes please.”

When they were getting up of the couch Y/n felt sick again, she ran to the nearest bathroom and let it all out. That took Harry by surprise, one moment he was folding the blanket they where using and talking about other movies and the other he was grabbing his wife’s hair.

“Don’t know what’s happening to me, H. It feels like something more.” she rested her back into the cold wall opposite to the toilet

She recalled when she was sweaty and exhausted she blamed italy’s sun, when her mood changed drastically she blamed her personality, when she felt disgust out of nowhere and ended up vomiting she blamed the food and spices she was not used to, but everything as a whole was sign of other thing.

“Like what?” Harry said concerned thinking of the worst.

“I-i… i’ve been feeling weird lately and all my symptoms are, you know, hm, signs of pregnancy.”

“… Like what?” he repeated too shocked to say other thing.

“Mood change, um, craving could be described, the constant exhaustion, vomit…”

“Want me to go for a test?”

“What if paps catch you?”

“Who cares about them?” he said excitedly, this could be one of the happiest days of his life, and he couldn’t wait.

“Pr team, probably.” Y/n said tired.

“Well, I think they’ll understand. You’ll be good on your own? O could ask one of the guys to get a test on their way here.”

“I’ll be good, also we aren’t certain if i’m… pregnant, don’t want to alarm anyone and I’m pretty sure they’ll be back ‘till midnight.”

“You’re right. Well, i’ll be right back, honey.”

“Thanks.”

Harry literally sprinted to the nearest corner store as soon a he closed the villa’s door. Not caring of anything else, he ran through a fairly small business, not more than 5 minutes away, or that what he felt, until he viewed the boxes he was so desperate for, he grabbed three different ones and ran to the cash register, an old man smiled kindly at him. The interaction was short but cute.

When Harry grabbed the tests the man said to him "Buona fortuna." (good luck). With Harry's poor italian he said "Grazie" and ran back to Y/n.

"That was quick" Y/n was waiting by the door when he arrived.

"I always am, hun…” Harry said out of breath.

Y/n laughed and grabbed the bruised boxes from his hands. "I'm nervous"

"There's nothing to be nervous about, love."

"Well, then, there I go." she let a loud shaky breath and entered the bathroom again.

"Love you."

"Love you too." her voice muffled by the door.

Harry was also nervous, but in a good way nervous, what a good timing, he thought, they been wanting to start a family since last year, well, since forever, but actively trying ever since. He remembered the doctor appointments, the times they had sex just because an app told them to, and the disappointment in their faces when the test were negative, over and over again. And now, they were the happiest they've been, he just finished love on tour, Y/n finished her second book and taking a vacation with all their friends and family.

"Har...ry, come in, please." he did so immediately.

"Everything okay?" his voice was shaky. The tests were all perfectly lined up on a counter all of them facing down.

"Yes, I wanted you to be here." she was crying again, but the smile in her face denoted happiness and anxiety.

"Remember that no matter what the tests say, we'll be fine, and keep trying if you want."

"Thanks." she muttered hugging him.

"Thank you" he hugged her back kissing her hair.

"Can you check one first, please?"

"Sure"

While still hugging her he picked one of the tests and checked. His heart stopped when there was just one line across the screen.

"Uhm, what does one line means?" he asked, wanting to be in the wrong.

"N-negative..."

Y/n pulled away from the embrace to confirm what Harry was saying.

"It's okay, we got two more left."

"Yeah." Y/n said not really expecting any different result. She grabbed one and Harry the other.

Y/n's test said 'Incinta 2-3 settimane*' And Harry's had two vertical lines.

"Oh god, this one say-"

"My phone! Where is it." Y/n said quickly.

"What?"

"I need a confirmation."

She opened the translator and typed the test's result, it gave 'Pregnant 2-3 weeks'

"Oh my god! What does yours says?"

"That you're pregnant!"

"This one too!" she jumped into her husband's arms rounding his waist with her legs.

"Two out of three." he said shocked.

"I'll take it. Tomorrow we could go to a doctor."

"I can't wait." he said happily.

"Neither can i."

"Thank you, thank you love." he kissed her nose.

"I couldn't have done anything without your contribution, love, thank you too." she cupped his cheek as he laughed.

"Let's go to bed, tomorrow might be a big day.”

Y/n, attached to him in a koala style, and Harry Styles went to the bedroom full of bliss and expectancy for tomorrow.

“Where were you guys all morning? We waited you for breakfast” Gemma said laying on a sun chair near the villa’s pool, where the radiant couple just arrived.

“Uh, went for some air.” Harry responded.

“Oh, how are you feeling, Y/n?”

“Much better.” Y/n smiled widely to her sister-in-law. “I’m going for some water, want some?”

“I’m good, pumping, thanks.”

“Gem?”

“I have some here, thank you, Y/n/n.”

Y/n walked into the kitchen with a happy pace and Harry admired her silhouette in that white dress he loved so much.

“Are you guys high?”

“What?”

“Why are you smiling so much? it’s creepy.”

“We’re happy.” he said jokingly annoyed. “Also, i have something to tell you.”

“Y/n’s pregnant?” Gemma guessed, siting straight and taking her glasses off.

“How’d you know?”

“I didn’t, but the pregnancy tests in the bathroom gave me an idea. Congratulations!” the siblings hugged tightly.

“Thank you!”

“You’re finally becoming a dad. Ahh!”

“I know, ahh!”

“Why are you screaming like hyenas in cocaine?”

“Y/n, congrats, darling.” Gemma hugged her.

“Oh Gemma, thanks.”

“You’ll be the greatest parents and i’m gonna be the greatest aunt.”

The three laughed. “I’m pretty sure you’ll be, Gem”

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #husband!harry #harry styles fluff #soft!harry #harry styles x you #harry styles x yn #harry styles blurb #harry styles y/n

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jnnul · 6 months

Text

[9:12 a.m.]

gif creds: @jaeyxns

PAIRING ▸ husband!jay park x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ fluff, domestic love, husband!au, parents!au, a snippet of what i think jay's life would look like in like 15 years

WARNINGS ▸ mentions of (past/others') pregnancy, uhh i think that's it

WORD COUNT ▸ 1k words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ nothing super big but i was writing something else and then suddenly i was writing husband!jay. not sure either <3

"good morning, my love," your husband says from behind you, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple as he goes about fixing himself a mug of coffee.

"good morning, jay," you say with a smile, flipping the omelette in the pan to ensure both sides were well done before then flipping it into the plate next to the stove.

"when did you get home last night? ria, danny, and i missed you," jay says, taking a seat at the barstool at the counter so that he could be in the same space as you.

you turn to him, only to see him already staring at you as though you had hung the sun itself in the sky. you smile, sliding the plate over so that he could start eating before your rowdy children could come and fight their father for breakfast.

"i think around midnight. i'm sorry i had to miss barbie night," you say with a pout, focused on cracking the next egg in the pan carefully.

"oh don't worry about it. is your friend alright?" jay asks, getting out of his seat to grab the bottle of ketchup from the fridge. you nod absentmindedly, mentally trying to track the number of eggs you needed to feed your hungry little monsters (who were still sound asleep) and yourself and jay.

"yeah. in fact, it turns out that she's pregnant!" you exclaim, and jay can't help but smile at the excitement in your voice. "it would explain the sudden flu-like symptoms."

jay offers you a bite of his omelette as you rush around the kitchen. you accept it happily, giving him a thumbs up as you hurry to flip the next omelette.

"i had a feeling from a couple of weeks ago, honestly. i just didn't want to say anything in case it wasn't something that her and her boyfriend wanted," you explain and jay nods in agreement.

"especially since he's in the army. it's a tough decision. i mean we were married for two years before we even thought of danny," jay says and you smile, nostalgia filling the air.

"do you ever miss that? the honeymoon phases and all of the romantic stuff that we used to do before the kids?" you ask, strangely nervous about jay's answer.

jay ponders for a moment before shaking his head no, finishing off the last of his omelette cleanly.

"no. i mean our life might be a lot less 'romantic' and a lot more chaotic because of ria and danny but there's no place i'd rather be than with my kids and my beautiful, smart, and amazing wife," jay says, getting up to accept the next omelette. he sets down his now refilled plate, wrapping his arms around your waist and rocking the two of you side to side.

"i know. honestly, our teenage years were nice. what, with the sneaking out of the house and the awkward prom pictures and everything but this is perfect. barbie nights and spending time with my perfect husband and my little angels?" you sigh, contended, as jay hums and rests his chin on your shoulder.

"keep saying things like that and we're going to have to add to the list of angels running around the house," jay says, his voice deep and full of promise. you clear your throat, a sudden heat rushing up your spine, about to somehow refute his statement when you hear the telltale signs of little feet padding down the stairs and you just barely manage to push jay off of you in time for danny and ria to come down the stairs.

"mama! dad! i'm hungry! i already brushed my teeth! ria didn't so she's stinky stinky but my teeth are sparkly," danny says, rushing up to jay to show off his pearly white teeth.

ria whines in protest, clamoring with all of her five year old might to show her father her clean teeth as well. "daddy, dandan's lying! i brushed my teeth! even all the way in the back!"

"baby, i believe you but remember what i told you? that dandan's gotta watch you brush your teeth just to make sure you're doing it right?" jay says gently, lifting his daughter up to press a kiss to her cheek, laughing when his nine year old son pouts and rushes to your side instead.

"mama, why doesn't dad say 'good job' even though i brushed my teeth?" danny says, fisting your skirt with a heartbroken tone that tugs at your heartstrings and you turn around to fix jay with a glare.

"dandan, good job buddy! i'm so proud of you! in fact, i'm so proud of you that i want you to have the first omelette," jay says, conceding his omelette to danny and ruffling his hair.

your son is easily appeased by the affections of his father and takes his seat at the counter to eat happily and jay gives you a coy wink before pressing another kiss to your forehead.

"let me take my princess to brush her teeth - again," jay adds on at the end when he sees the protest bubbling up in ria's eyes. "you make sure my buddy gets to eat as many omelettes as he wants, okay?"

"daddy! be nice to mommy! you have to say please!" ria scolds jay, pointing her little finger in her father's face.

"yeah! dad, remember a gentleman always says please and thank you to his lady," danny says with a mouthful of omelette and you abandon your post to scoop up your son in a loving embrace.

"oh my god, he's growing up! you used to teach him how to read and now he's telling you how to be a gentleman; soon enough, he'll be telling that to his own kids," you cry out and jay rolls his eyes playfully.

"oh ew! mama, no thanks," danny says, crinkling his nose and making such a funny expression that you and jay can't help but laughing, causing danny and ria to laugh as well.

and your heart is so full. so full because this isn't just today's antics but the beautiful reality you get to experience for the rest of your life.

everything is perfect.

#jnnul #enhypen #enhypen soft hours #jay soft hours #jay soft thoughts #enhypen imagines #jay imagines #jay park #jay park fluff #jay park x reader #enhypen x reader

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personasintro · 2 years

Text

monachopsis | 08

↳ 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

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, toxic parents (nothing new lol)

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 15k+

↳ chapter index

⇠ prev. | next ⇢

It's been two months and you still can't believe it.

You're not quite sure what you're going through. On the outside, you try to be happy and content, desperately trying to convince yourself that this is something you've been waiting for. The journey to get there has been messy and it affected you more than you could've ever imagined. But nobody knows that. Nobody knows about the inner battles you're facing every hour, even every minute of your day.

The little life growing inside of you is… an overwhelming feeling to say the least. It's a huge reminder.

Yeonseok is thrilled, and has been from the moment he found you standing in the bathroom, barely able to comprehend the news. He's ten times happier, always smiling and making sure you have everything you need – not that he hasn't been doing that before. Now he doesn't allow you to clean and often, you have to remind him you're not even in that stage of being pregnant.

If it wasn't for the famous morning sickness, you would barely know it. It's still early for you to experience the different uncomfortable symptoms and struggles. However, you can't pinpoint whether the pregnancy is to be blamed for the frequent throwing up or your own conscience. You don't want to make it sound as if your mental health is on a bad path. More like the guilt is making your life tough. But no one is really to blame.

Realizing, you spend your time trying to constantly convince yourself just for you to end up with the same miserable ache in your chest. It's not good for the baby, that's what you often say in your inner and silenced thoughts that no one ever hears.

With Yeonseok too excited, he wasn't waiting too long to drop the news to his parents who, to be completely honest, have been just as thrilled. They've showered you with so much love, not hiding how excited they're about their unborn first grandchildren. They don't know the whole truth though. You're not sure if it's something you'd share with them. That would be fucking weird, let's be honest.

It feels like Yeonseok is too prideful to admit the truth. It feels embarrassing to do so as well. You're not sure if you could face your parents-in-law. But it feels wrong to be lying not just to them, but to yourself and in general. You're no saint, but all of it feels wrong.

Just like the fancy birthday dinner you've been invited to. It's Mrs. Min's birthday and apparently, she doesn't want to make it a big party which is so unlike her. It's been a couple of days since you've visited Min's residence. They made sure to invite you more often which you don't find particularly annoying or anything close to it. But having Mins right there in front of you… it reminds you how badly you, all of you, have fucked up with this deal. It should've been so easy but it's the exact opposite.

Mrs. Min places a greek salad on the table, the amount of food could surely feed a whole village, as she sits down with the biggest smile she so kindly gives you. It's hard to think of her as a bad person. But you can't help it and think about what he told you. You've experienced her to look frustrated, amongst other things, when it came to this one person.

The not so Korean food looks appetizing, though you're ready to dig into the steak instead, as its smell fills up your nostrils. The first bite tastes divine and you almost hum and moan from the delicious taste. In the midst of your second bite, Maria – their maid in her late fifties who has been with the Min's family since their sons were kids – apologizes for the disturbance and informs the family about someone's arrival.

“Mr. Min is here, m'am.” she adds, stating the reason for her disturbance.

The fork in your hand almost clinks against the expensive ceramic of your plate, but your hold tightens around it. The moment Maria excuses herself to prepare the dessert in the meantime, you swear your whole stomach strains as nausea hits you. You know it's no morning sickness or the delicious dish prepared by Maria and the chef in Min's kitchen. It's the damn psyche of having to see him again because he's here.

Despite today being his mother's birthday dinner, the thought of him coming over went over your head. Him coming makes sense but at the same time – it doesn't. He never comes at family dinners, very rarely and the shock on your in-laws faces tells you they're just as surprised. Yeonseok scoffs silently on your left, the sound not going unnoticed by you but you decide not to react.

Your heart hammers in your chest and you've lost all your appetite, nerves slowly crawling to every cell in your body.

“Well, what surprising news.” Mrs. Min fills the silence, and even though her voice doesn't hold any hostility, she doesn't sound pleased or even happy to hear her second son came. She simply voices her thoughts as if the topic is about the most casual or random thing ever.

Mr. Min hums, reaching for his glass of wine before a set of footsteps come closer and closer. With each step and second, you feel like flying out of the stool and hiding yourself somewhere in this huge house. You're nervous.

Nervous to see him again after you ended everything. It's stupid, what was going on between you could be considered purely as a business and you know you did what was for the best. Things were about to get too messy and you couldn't let that happen.

But you're also scared shitless. The thought of seeing him again shouldn't affect you this much and you're completely aware of this fact. The guilt – and so does the nausea – rises but before you can excuse yourself to use the restroom, not caring how weird that would look suddenly, Yoongi in the flesh stops at the entrance of the dining room.

It's not just you who naturally look at him because of his arrival or sounds of his footsteps, you all look up from your plates to stare at him. His hair color is different, you immediately notice since you're not met with his usual black hair and are shocked to see the silver color. His whole appearance is rather unexpected.

He stands there wearing a suit, looking the most elegant you've ever seen him. He's giving a completely different vibe and if you didn't know him, you would think he's someone else. It's weird to think how he suddenly fits into this family and you can tell he holds the same power every Min family member does.

The tattoos are hidden from everyone's sight and the most eye-catching feature is currently his hair color. He looks astonishing.

He scans the room, almost surprised to see just the four of you as his eyes stop at you for a moment. Your breath gets caught in your throat and you swear you stop breathing for a moment, anticipating whatever is about to come. But then he looks away and averts his gaze at his parents instead – and you hate how that pains you.

“Yoongi,” His mother says, not hiding her surprise. “We thought you wouldn't come.”

“It's your birthday, mother.” Yoongi informs as if she didn't know that.

Despite Yoongi avoiding any family gatherings and their sore relationship, Yoongi would always make sure to at least drop a gift to one of his parents whenever it's their birthday. He wouldn't often spend the day with them, or attend any parties they are used to throwing, but he tried his best to at least give them something.

After the failures of any parties he attended, it was just safer for him to avoid them all. Even though he was painted as the bad guy who doesn't care about anything, not even his parents.

But he came now – bearing a gift in the form of a small paper bag.

And then he moves and you watch every single step he takes toward the table, stopping beside his mother as she stands up with a hand over her chest as she notices the gift. Yoongi takes her hand into his big ones, rings adoring his long fingers as his lips brush against her cheeks before he wishes her a happy birthday. She thanks him, smiling the first time since he came here as she places the gift on the floor to check it out later.

Maybe she didn't want to disturb the dinner, but you still can't help but think she could've at least looked at the gift her son bought her. Does she even care about the gift?

But Yoongi doesn't look phased one bit, unbuttoning his suit as he sits at the free seat which happens to be right in front of you. Your eyes meet for a split second and you quickly look away, not having the strength to look at him any longer.

The table is huge but it wouldn't make sense for him to have a seat a few seats from everyone. You know he didn't have much choice but right now, having him right in front of you makes your legs shake in nervosity.

“We're glad you came tonight, son.” Mr. Min says at the head of the table.

Yoongi meekly nods before Maria comes again, ready to serve Yoongi his food as he simply puts his hand up. “I'm fine to serve my own food, thank you Maria.”

She looks a little perplexed at Yoongi's parents, but offers Yoongi a soft smile before she bows and retrieves back to the kitchen, informing dessert is ready whenever you're ready.

Yoongi serves his own food, his movements gentle and you gulp at the sight of his veiny hands as they reach to the bowl of roasted parmesan baby potatoes.

“Honey, does the steak not taste good?” Yeonseok speaks next to you, his hand on top of your thigh as you jump in your spot, staring at him with wide eyes. He cocks his head at your plate, noticing you've taken only one bite so far and seem to be not hungry at all.

With his question, Yeonseok attracts everyone's attention at the table and you gulp, giving him a tensed smile. “No, it's delicious.”

“Yeonseok, stop questioning her. You know how–”

Almost feeling like what she's about to say, you interrupt Mrs. Min's in the midst of her sentence knowing how rude that looks because you've never done that before. But you couldn't help it.

“It's delicious. Really.” you assure them, forcing yourself to take a second bite but instead of the good taste, all you want is to spit it out.

Your mother-in-law looks a little surprised by your interruption but she shakes herself out of it, offering you a gentle smile as she reaches for her red wine. However, she has different plans than just leaving the topic, Yeonseok's question and everything about it reminding her of the obvious.

“Yoongi, you should congratulate your brother. And Y/N.”

This time, you don't manage to catch the fork as it loudly clanks against the plate and you nervously apologize. Mrs. Min sounds ecstatic, cheerful at her words as she beams at both of you, your unusual behavior going completely unnoticed as everyone beams in the room. Well, your in-laws do as they shoot bright smiles your way. They're happy, it's nice to witness it but it's the least of things you can focus on.

Yoongi arches his brow, leans against his stool as he glances at his mother. “Congratulate?”

“Your big brother is about to be a father.”

The whole world stops.

At least it feels like that. Your stomach churns uncomfortably and you hate yourself how automatically you look at Yoongi. His features remain neutral, staring at his mother before he averts his sharp and dark gaze at you. Holy shit.

You've no idea what Yoongi thinks right now. Does he think you're a liar? You did tell him you're not pregnant – but only because you didn't know at that time. You made it seem as if you're helping him despite him not reaching the end of your deal. All of this is fucking messy. A fucking mess you can't seem to get out of.

And then he glances at his brother, forcing you to look at your husband as well as he stares sharply at Yoongi as if he's daring him to say something. He's tense and not in his usual relaxed posture as he glares the hell out of Yoongi.

But Yoongi only stares back at him, neutral almost like a robot before he opens his mouth and lets out a mere; “Congrats.”

His parents stare and clear their throats at the same time, biting back any distasteful remarks about Yoongi's lack of enthusiasm. That's what pisses them off. The lack of emotions he shows. It shows how controlling of him they want to be.

But Yoongi comes here like a king, showing them they can't control him.

You start noticing the little details even more now.

It's funny because the two brothers are wearing the same type of clothing, but both of them radiate completely different energy. You look at your husband and you see an attractive man. Both of them are attractive just in different ways and you hate that Yoongi is the one who makes your stomach flutter with a set of butterflies. It's just his looks and energy.

By asking to be excused, you would draw even more attention and you don't want anyone to feel like there's something going on. So you stay seated in your spot, bracing to take the stupid fork again along with knife.

For the rest of the dinner, you try to get as much food as it's possible into your stomach, swallowing down any urge to push the plate away. Your in-laws mostly talk through it along with Yeonseok as they talk about business and all sorts of stuff you don't care to listen to.

Yoongi, sitting on the opposite side from you, remains silent too as he chews on the food until his plate is empty. When Maria comes back with the dessert, a molten chocolate cake, you barely eat a half of it which is truly a shame. You were so excited for tonight's food, knowing it's always delicious and your in-laws are very precise when it comes to food and inviting someone over, whether it's for lunch or dinner.

You can't help it though. It's your nerves acting up and even your recent sweet cravings won't save you this time. Luckily, nobody voices your non-eager attitude when it comes to food, and this time you don't even care how it might look. All of that is somewhere back in your mind, if even, because all you can focus on is the man sitting not far away from you. You're practically right in front of his eyes, fully exposed to him even though he doesn't look your way. At least you think he doesn't.

You act as if he's not there, not even glancing his direction though you're more than aware of his presence. You don't feel his burning eyes on you – you're not sure if you want to. Yet it feels like there's many unspoken things between you, and him ignoring you too doesn't sit well with you. Which is selfish, you're aware, because you're doing the same thing.

So when the dessert is over and everyone continues to drink the expensive alcohol of each of their choice, Yoongi excuses himself to get some fresh air and he gets dismissed, even though he truly doesn't care. He leaves his seat and disappears further down the house.

Should you go talk to him?

You feel like you should.

But are you ready?

Not at all.

What are you going to say to him? You've no idea where to start or what you want to tell him at all. There's just this feeling that pushes you to go and talk to him.

Plus you don't want to make any bad blood with Yeonseok. It's already enough that he looked annoyed at Yoongi's sudden presence and unexpected arrival. The reason behind it is your pregnancy without doubt. No matter how Yeonseok says the baby is his, he knows biologically it is not. None of you can change that.

And you don't want to give him any reason to doubt you, or want to make him feel like you want to get closer to his brother. Not at all. It's better if you stay away from him – that much is clear.

Maybe living with this guilt is your price for ever agreeing to your husband's ridiculous plan. He's not one to blame though. You agreed after all.

So why the hell do you stand up after softly patting the corners of your lips, excusing yourself to use the restroom?

You know the restroom is not a place you're going to visit. Navigating your way through the house, you get to the backdoor that leads to a large garden and even before opening the tall and big glass door, you already spot Yoongi leaning against a pillar. A cigarette between his two fingers as he brings it closer to his mouth as he takes a drag.

Quietly but not too subtly, you open the door and sneak into the chilly night where stars surround the dark sky. The automatic lights already inform him about your presence, if the sound of the door opening hasn't.

But he doesn't react.

He never looks up. Nor even glances in your direction as he continues to smoke as if he's still alone, despite your figure coming closer.

Taking a shaky breath, you grow even more nervous to be facing him, no… to talk to him, again. Is he even aware of your presence? He must be. There's no way he doesn't know.

But much to your luck, it seems like he decides to put you out of your misery once he looks up, no longer staring into the distance or at his black elegant boots. The suit is gone and he stands before you in a white button-up, some of his tattoos slightly visible through the thin fabric. Averting his eyes right at you, no shock is evident on his neutral and expressionless face, he remains silent.

“Hi.” you stupidly offer into the thick air, not averting your gaze as much as you would want to.

A beat of silence follows.

“Hi.” he says back after a moment.

You hug your arms, rubbing your forearms to mask your nervosity as you bite into your lower lip harshly. Nobody takes any initiative in starting a conversation and you know it has to be you. You came to him after all. Not the other way around.

If you didn't come to him, there's a big possibility Yoongi wouldn't approach you. It didn't seem like he wanted to, to be honest.

Opening your mouth, no words come out of it as you ponder about your next words. But once you actually think of saying something, Yoongi beats you to it and his deep voice reaches your ears.

“What do you want, Y/N?”

He's straight-forward. Perhaps a little bit too much and you actually find yourself slightly offended by the question and the tone of it.

Okay. No beating around the bush. You got it.

So far it feels like Yoongi wants to have nothing to do with you. Not that you can't blame him.

“I didn't lie to you.” you blurt out suddenly.

He watches you, his features not changing even a bit before he slightly cocks his head to the side. He takes another drag, aiming his face in the opposite direction as a cloud of smoke leaves his mouth.

“I didn't know I was pregnant when I… talked to you the last time.” you specify as he remains silent before a silent chuckle leaves his mouth.

He finishes smoking, the cigarette now short and almost all used as he hollows his cheeks while he takes a deep inhale of it. Once he's done, he presses the cigarette against the white pillar which makes your breath hitch as he throws the stud on the grass. He doesn't bother to go to the nearest bin and throw it out.

His mother will be surely ecstatic once she finds it.

“Congratulations.” he says somehow dryly, but maybe that's just his usual way of distancing himself.

You don't expect him to be over the moon with the news. All of this is weird and his lack of reaction just proves to you that he doesn't really think much about this situation. You know what the deal was and the child growing inside you is not his. No matter how biologically that is incorrect. It's not like you expected him to give you some kind of reaction, other than the pure ignorance and a lack of interest he's showing.

“Congratulations?” you mutter back just as dryly, his dark eyes watching you.

“What do you want me to say, Y/N?” he sighs.

At the sound of your name, your heart clenches at how cold he sounds.

“I came here to tell you that I didn't lie to you. I didn't know and I only found out after we talked.”

Yoongi didn't know it for sure. You didn't know when you came to his place to put an end to everything. Clearly, he was aware of all the risks because there was still a chance. Fuck, it would be such a bad luck if you didn't get pregnant after all those times he fucked you just in one night.

But then a notification popped on his screen and his bank account has suddenly grown into something it never has before. The exact money that all of you settled on was now sitting in his bank account.

To be completely truthful, Yoongi didn't think you would be able to convince Yeonseok to send him the money. Yeonseok is stubborn, in a completely different way than Yoongi is and whatever has to do with him, he knows Yeonseok is even ten times more stubborn than normally. He hasn't had the chance to see much of your marriage and relationship, yet he knows Yeonseok is much softer around you. You're his wife after all and maybe there's some truth to it that people we love bring out the best in us.

So he thought you somehow convinced him.

And when he decided to come here and celebrate his mother's birthday, the last thing he expected to find out is that you really are pregnant after all. But is it that much of a shock? Somehow he settled with the thought that you aren't.

Maybe you decided to get a sperm donor after all, that's what he thought.

But according to your words, nothing like that has happened and you're pregnant thanks to him.

“Relax,” he sighs, “I didn't even think of you lying. I mean it's probably for the best that it ended up like this, no?”

You frown a little. “What do you mean?”

“I felt fucking bad for getting the money without you getting a part of your deal. So now that you actually got it, there shouldn't be any bad feelings.”

He makes it sound so easy, yet you feel like your heart is cracking for some reason. And you're fucking confused because you don't know what you want him to say. You don't know how you want him to react. The only thing you know is that none of this feels right and it's a fucking mess. And the same guilt is slowly crawling all over your body.

“Right.” you gulp, hearing your heartbeat in your ears as you try to utter a few words but nothing comes out.

Your head feels heavy and what feels like anxiety engulf your body. Even your legs feel like jelly and you hate yourself for wearing heels tonight, even though they're not that high to begin with. You stumble on the spot, your eyes widening in shock as you expect the worst. Luckily, Yoongi is close and even though the single stumble wouldn't make you fall, Yoongi places his hands around your forearms and holds you steady.

“Are you okay?” he asks, leaning his face closer to you as he tries to inspect your face.

Nodding, you swallow the uncomfortable lump in your throat rather dryly and despite your confirmation that you're okay, you look anything but it.

You're shocked. Shocked yourself. Shocked by this situation. You're exhausted, wanting to escape from the constant guilt and never-ending discontent you're feeling.

“Come on. You should sit down or go inside.” Yoongi mutters but you don't move, eyes wide in shock as you can't react in any way.

Your mind is whirling, you're completely aware of what's happening even though you're confused too. But your body seems to not react.

“Hey, come on talk to me,” Yoongi offers softly, taking your chin between his fingers as he makes you look at him.

His sharp eyes are set on you, a small frown adoring his face. “How far along are you? Is that what people ask pregnant women?”

Something snaps in you and a breathless laugh escapes your mouth. Yoongi's lips twitch and he nods his head to encourage you to answer.

“Two months?” There's a tilt to your tone that makes it sound like a question and Yoongi laughs a little.

“Are you asking me?”

You laugh, shaking your head as Yoongi slowly lets go of your arms and inspects you with his eyes once more. “I don't know. People have this stupid tendency to talk about everything in weeks when it comes to pregnancy and babies, and I'm confused over it.”

Yoongi snorts, “You and I both. I don't know shit about pregnancy.”

“I like your hair.” you blurt out and you don't fail to notice the brief look of surprise shadowing Yoongi's features until he lets out a breathy chuckle, brushing his fingers through his now silver hair.

“You do? Thought my mother would have some kind of snarky comment about it but she didn't.”

You laugh, eyes glancing at the top of his head again. Yeonseok would never dye his hair, you're sure about that. It's one of the many things that differs him and Yoongi.

“I never knew you're planning to dye your hair.” you admit, though it's stupid because of course you didn't know. You're not friends and there are so many things you don't know about him.

You both know that but luckily, Yoongi goes along with it and shoots you a brief smile.

“Yeah, it wasn't a plan. Just a spontaneous idea. My friend thought it's a good idea to do this at midnight.”

His friend?

Again, you don't know any of Yoongi's friends. All you heard is from Yeonseok and if you remember correctly, he called them 'a bunch of stoners' which you're not sure if it's accurate at all. Where would Yeonseok even see or meet his friends? It's most likely one of his judgy assumptions rather than a raw truth.

“Oh, the one I saw in your studio?”

What the hell?

Why would you say that?

Yoongi looks at you before he simply says; “Yeah.”

You know you have the look on your face. He sees it. He sees what you're assuming but he doesn't do anything to correct you.

Is he sleeping with her again? He did say they used to hook-up, that much you can remember. Actually, you can remember every single thing he said to you.

There's nothing holding him back now. He can do anything he wants to. So why do you feel… bitter about it?

You're the one married. You're the one who's pregnant.

Seeing him and being so close to him, there's something pulling you closer to him. Something that wants you to be in his close proximity. It's not love. You're sure of it. How can you love someone you barely know?

But the attraction you feel toward him is too much. It feels just the same as it did when you decided to end things. Nothing has changed and that scares you. You thought time would do you some favor but it turns out to be false.

“Hey,”

He snaps you out of your thoughts, your eyes blinking a few times as you find his dark glowing orbs.

“How are you doing?”

Something about his voice and the question itself is gentle. You're taken back for a moment.

“You mean besides pregnant and all emotional? Good.” you joke but Yoongi doesn't laugh nor chuckles how you expect him to.

Instead, he keeps staring at you until your smile slowly fades away.

“Is Yeonseok treating you right?”

“What kind of question is that?” you breathe out a chuckle, not hiding surprise.

“You seemed to be acting weird all evening. I don't remember you being this way.” he points out, voice hushed as if he told you a secret that nobody can hear which you don't understand, because you're alone outside.

Yeah, you're acting weird. For numerous reasons but he's the main one. Every single reason includes him but you can't tell him that. The baby you're carrying is biologically his. You made it through countless times of having sex, memories you can't seem to shake off. You no longer crave your husband's touch. You feel guilty every time he only touches you, and you don't mean anything intimate behind it. Whenever he would take your hand into his, you no longer feel the excitement and spark you once used to feel.

It's guilt and a need to pull away instead.

And you hate yourself for it. You're so mad at yourself that you want to scream into your pillow every night. But you put this imaginary mask on and you fall asleep with a smile on your face, letting your husband caress your still non-visible bump.

“I didn't expect you to come tonight. That's all.” you admit, not really lying but not telling him the raw truth either.

“What? You don't like seeing me?” he jokes this time, one corner of his lips lifting up and you swallow the urge to salivate at how good he looks doing bare minimum.

To be honest, you're not sure if you like to see him here. He just made your mind even a bigger mess than it already was without even knowing. He's completely clueless, going on with his life while you can't seem to forget about you two and what you've done.

“That's not it.” you laugh. It sounds a little forced though Yoongi doesn't react, maybe completely clueless about that too. “I'm glad you came.”

Okay, you weren't planning to say exactly that.

But it was worth it when you see the slightest glimpse of Yoongi's fond smile before he chuckles again.

“I'm sure your parents are glad too.”

You try to save it, though it makes Yoongi laugh even more.

“Yeah, not sure about that. Mom always sends me an invite over a text but I think she secretly hopes I never show up.”

You frown at the thought. The memory of her brushing off Yoongi's gift like it's nothing sudden comes to the surface. But you hope Yoongi is not right about this.

“I'm sure that's not true. Why would she hope about that?”

“I always bring some kind of drama.”

“You? The person who barely reacts?” you joke, laughing as Yoongi joins you though his life is nowhere near bubbly or equal as yours.

“They don't realize they're the drama.”

“Yeah, it's always like that…” you silently agree as the topic falls down a little and you end up staring at each other.

Heartbeat racing, you don't budge as you stare deeply into his eyes as he watches you with intense stare as well, which only adds to the sudden weird atmosphere and tension.

You open your mouth but you're interrupted by a door opening, soon spotting your husband as he looks around before his eyes set on you and his brother. He visibly tenses and without hesitance, makes his way to both of you. As soon as he's next to you, you feel his hand on your back as he sends daggers at Yoongi.

“What are you doing here?”

You're not sure who is he asking and you stare in bewilderment at how hostile he sounds. He could at least pretend to be nice. You don't like seeing him like this and you know it has everything to do with Yoongi.

“Are you asking me or…?” you chuckle almost nervously, but Yoongi doesn't budge.

He frowns at his brother as he scoffs, “Can't talk to my sister-in-law?”

You don't know what makes you want to throw up. Yoongi calling you sister-in-law or the bitter chuckle Yeonseok doesn't hide.

“Stay away from my wife.” Yeonseok spits and inches closer to Yoongi.

Eyes widening, you get between the two and subtly push Yeonseok. You ignore how he stares at you like you just betrayed him. You don't want to cause any scene, you want to avoid it as much as possible. At the moment you don't care who's right or not.

“Should've thought about it sooner.” But Yoongi only digs deeper, getting provoked by Yeonseok and this time you have to put much bigger pressure on Yeonseok's chest to not let him lash at Yoongi.

“Stop it,” you bark, not really sure who it's aimed at. Just one of them or both? “I came to talk to him.”

“And why would you do that?” Yeonseok frowns at you and you frown back, standing your ground as you scoff.

“Maybe because you've been glaring at him ever since he came? You're being impolite, Yeonseok. I just wanted to check on him.”

“That's not any of your business.”

Your mouth left agape, you're speechless but before you can react, Yoongi does it for you.

“Don't talk to her like that.” he warns and Yeonseok glares at him once again, but keeps his mouth shut because once he looks back at you, you see he realizes his mistake. He opens his mouth but you shake your head, silencing him.

“Wow,” he suddenly starts to laugh. You watch your husband turn into something you haven't seen yet, he looks almost insane yet he doesn't do anything big. He laughs sarcastically and bitterly, rubbing his forehead as he looks at you and Yoongi. “Look at that.”

“Yeonseok, stop it.” you snap, “Don't say something you'll regret later.”

His ironic smile fades, eyes boring into Yoongi who's standing behind you before he looks away with a clenched jaw.

Yoongi brushes past you and your husband, his intoxicating scent filling your nose for a quick moment as he makes his way inside. But he doesn't fully step in as he looks across his shoulder, eyes and words aimed at his brother. “Get your shit together.”

Yeonseok looks like he could punch a wall at the moment, but you don't entertain that idea, following Yoongi inside without looking back. He joins you, thinking twice about doing something stupid.

But by the time you're inside and joining your in-laws, Yoongi is already gone, leaving the rest of the family in a bitter mood because of his sudden departure. Only Yeonseok seems to be pissed off for a different reason. One, only the three of you know about.

Arriving back home helps to bring you some calmness to your sour mood. Yeonseok hasn't uttered a single word on your way back and so haven't you. What's the point? He seems to be upset and partly, you're the reason for it.

If you haven't decided to go to see Yoongi, all of this could've been avoided. Sure, in the end Yeonseok still couldn't help but glare at his brother at any given chance, but at least there would be no verbal confrontation. You know you just added fuel to the fire which wasn't completely helpful at all. But you couldn't help yourself.

You had to talk to Yoongi, as much as a part of you thought it was a dumb idea. You're confused and yet again, your thoughts are running wild that you don't pay any attention to your husband. Taking a longer shower, you replay your conversation until your headache approaches and even then, you see Yoongi's face in front of you. He occupies every corner of your mind and you breathe heavily to calm down your heartbeat.

This constant stress and hundreds of negative emotions you're feeling are not good for the baby. You wish you could just focus on yourself and the baby.

It's later on when you're scrolling through your social media, completely ignoring your husband as he's in and out of the shower, soon joining you in your bedroom. He stares at the ceiling, frowning at the plain color until he breaks the silence.

“Why would you go talk to him?”

It's the same question all over again, one you could answer easily but it would bring even more guilt and pain. Not just to you but to Yeonseok as well. You realize whatever you're dealing with alone, could potentially break everything you've been building with him. Sure, being honest seems like the best and healthiest option but you're a coward. You purposely try to push the real reason, not saying it out loud because you know the consequences it would have. You ignore it with every fiber of your body, well at least you try to do so.

Glancing at him, the pained expression on his face pains you even more. Yeonseok has expectations of you, some you understand and some you don't. But most importantly, you know you would act the same way if the roles were reversed. You know whatever Yeonseok feels, whether it's jealousy or betrayal, you would feel just the same.

It's already hard as it is – for both of you. You can't imagine being on Yeonseok's place. Your husband should never feel threatened by another man. And deep down you know that's how Yeonseok probably feels.

Sighing, you lock your phone and put it on your nightstand. “I told you. I just wanted to make sure he's fine. Everyone didn't seem happy to have him there.”

“What are you talking about?” Yeonseok frowns.

“Seok, come on…” you chuckle, “Your mother barely acknowledged him, so did your father. She ignored his gift, and didn't even bother to take a glance. I felt bad for him.”

You siding with Yoongi and partly having his back will only evoke another percentage of anger in Yeonseok. He's sensitive when it comes to his brother. You're growing quite sick of it. Maybe because you come from a broken family too. And it's not fair to Yoongi at all. Hearing his part of the story, you could relate to it even if your positions in your families are different.

Sure, he's not perfect either and often lets the temper get the best of him, but he's not at fault here. He's not as loved as Yeonseok is and the single thought makes your eyes water. You don't want your baby to feel they're unloved by one of the parents. You want them to be loved and have a great loving family. Somewhere they feel safe and loved.

“Since when do you care about this so much?”

The suspicion is evident in his voice and it makes your stomach clench uncomfortably.

“Just because I've been quiet this whole time, doesn't mean I don't see certain things Yeonseok.” you point out, realizing this is the first time you're having this kind of conversation.

You would often voice your confusion of how your in-laws speak about their younger son, but it would be often brushed off and Yeonseok would go on and off about how Yoongi doesn't deserve them, is an asshole and all the same old story. So naturally, you just let go of that topic because it wasn't worth any potential disagreements. After all, you barely knew Yoongi and everything you heard about him was from his parents and your husband.

You don't want to make it seem like because you had sex, now you suddenly know everything about him and you realize how your confession about tonight's dinner might sound like. You understand Yeonseok's suspicion and confusion, so do you the hidden annoyance laced in both his expression and voice.

But now you've seen a bigger picture, especially after talking to Yoongi. He sounded and looked vulnerable in his own style. You remember every minute of that conversation you held with him at his place.

At that time it didn't feel like he was your brother-in-law. At least you never really thought of him that way, hence the lack of his presence in your life. But back then, during the conversation, you never acknowledged it. He felt like… your friend.

You felt close to him.

Yeonseok looks speechless, betrayal showing on his face again but he can't expect you to agree with everything he says or does just because you're in a marriage.

“Is that all it is?”

Accusation clear in his tone, your mouth falls open as you stare at him wide-eyed, not believing your ears. “What are you initiating, Yeonseok?”

“I don't know, you tell me. You never bothered to discuss my brother before, at least not to this extent. I find it weird.” No, he finds it suspicious.

“Do you think I never noticed how you guys mistreat him?”

You wish you would keep your mouth shut as soon as you say it. Though it's true, the expression on your husband's face pains you. The last thing you want to do is fight. And any conversation about his brother means fighting. There's no other way. But he can't expect you to play a nice wife who constantly keeps her mouth shut. You're not like that at all. You've never been and he knows that. He knew about your every part when marrying you, even told you that's what made him fall in love with you.

But the topic named Yoongi would be often brushed off even if you might've said something that could potentially annoy or upset your husband. But he never lashed at you because of it, nor did he show so many negative emotions.

There is also a realization and you know why he's reacting like this. If you never had to intimately get closer to Yoongi, this wouldn't be happening. Yeonseok is sensitive and you get that.

“You can't be serious, Y/N.”

At the usage of your name, you feel like he's scolding you and his tone implicates that much. Frowning, you keep your mouth shut despite wanting to say something but you can't find the right words.

“Is this because you slept with him?”

“Oh my god!” you exclaim, sitting up straight before the anger causes you to get off the bed as Yeonseok stares at you with a lifted brow which angers you even more. “I can't believe you're bringing this up again.”

“You never cared for him, Y/N. Why would you go and seek his attention? You're pregnant and we're having a baby. You should focus on us.”

It feels like everything he's saying is wrong. And you get this urge to cry. Out of desperation and anger. But you swallow it down, staring in disbelief at your husband.

“I went to check on him, Yeonseok. You might not care about whatever relationship you have with him, but I don't like weirdness between me and other people. I felt bad so I went to talk to him. He literally congratulated us. It's not like we were doing something secretive behind your back.”

“Look at it from my point of view,” he starts, shaking his head. “My brother got you pregnant, you spent nights with him. Of course I'm going to get upset when you sneak out to see him.”

“For fuck sake, I didn't sneak out! I'm not some teenager that has to sneak out. I'm also an adult who's free and completely capable of making decisions on her own.” you frustratedly tell him.

“That's not what I meant.”

“No? Then what did you mean?”

There's a beat of silence spent with two of you staring at each other, the argument sitting heavily in the air as your bedroom starts to feel suffocating.

“Look, I understand your point of view. I should've told you I'm about to talk to him,”

You both know he would do anything to stop you.

And at the same time, you didn't think of it as a big deal. You thought you could somehow talk to Yoongi without any drama.

“It's not like I'm seeing him anymore. I just wanted to end everything on a good note.”

“You will be seeing him. He's your brother-in-law.”

You roll your eyes. “You know what I meant.”

Yoongi is not someone who hangs around his family too much. Something tells you you won't be seeing him anytime soon. Yeonseok knows that too.

“Let's not fight, okay?” he sighs, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “We both have different opinions about this but consider this argument done.”

“Is it really done? Because it doesn't feel like it.”

Yeonseok's expression saddens. “Yes. I'm sorry if I said something that hurt you. I didn't mean to initiate or suspect something.”

You're not sure if you truly believe his words.

But you're also exhausted by this fight.

“Now come lay in the bed, please. The stress is not good for you and the baby.”

Sighing and shifting on your spot, you join him in the bed. Though you stay on your side, slowly turning off the light as he does the same.

Yeonseok's jealousy could be justified. At the end, you did have sex with Yoongi and even if that was the agreement, it does make things harder. Even after it's over.

However, something tells you this is far from over. It's the beginning of something you can't name yet.

The first argument starts expectedly, at least that's how you would define it. Surprisingly, it hasn't happened right after the latest fiasco at Min's house. Yeonseok has been trying to be a good husband, happily ignoring the argument that involved his brother. Mostly busy with running the family's company, he tried to take you out whenever he could or just tried to spend more time with you. He hasn't missed any appointments you had, always beaming at the baby's scan with a widest smile.

But it was just a matter of time before things would go downhill and you know what exactly it would be.

Your husband has been needy, in ways you absolutely understand. Realizing his touch doesn't feel like it used to, you wouldn't let things get far other than simple caressing. Sex is natural in marriage and you had lot of it, even before you decided to start a family only to find out heartbreaking news.

Every time you would end any implication of lust or sex, he didn't comment on it but you could feel his stare and imagine the process of his thoughts. You would be frustrated too.

Actually you are. Mainly with yourself.

You can't give him what he craves for and the list of excuses gets thinner and thinner. It has gotten so thin that it raises even more suspicion and frustration on your husband's part. Do you blame him? Hell no. You're not sure you would be able to go months without intimacy, especially if your husband would give you a cold shoulder. Naturally, you would think there is a problem.

Now is there?

Yes. A big one.

How can you explain to your husband that you don't crave his touch? Just the thought of it makes you shudder in so much discomfort that it makes you sad. Fuck. You even thought about satisfying him with a single handjob or blowjob but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. It sounds twisted.

And sex is much more than just the idea to satisfying your needs. It has always been in your relationship. That's what differs between your marriage and the simple act of sex you had with Yoongi.

“This is getting ridiculous.”

It is. You agree with him.

Once again, you can't blame him for acting like this. He tried to be nice, asked if you're okay, if there's something wrong. But your answer would always be the same.

“I'm okay. I'm just not in the mood, must be the hormones. I'm sorry.”

Fuck. You know it's more than just some hormones. You barely know you're pregnant. Your pregnancy symptoms aren't showing anymore and anything extraordinary doesn't have to automatically scream “pregnancy” too.

But you often caress your small bump that's mostly visible in the evenings. Or maybe you're just bloated from all the snacks you eat before bedtime. Bonding with your unborn baby has been your current key to happiness. As much as you feel miserable and often lonely, despite having a loving husband next to you every night, whenever you would look down at your belly and think about what they will look like, who they would become, you suddenly don't feel alone at all.

No matter what happens, you have the baby. Your baby.

“Yeon–”

“No, I don't want to hear it. No more excuses, Y/N. I have been patient and you know that. I'm not someone who would ever force you to have sex, but you barely let me touch you and it's been months!”

You just finished eating dinner, one you prepared for him after he came back home from work. But now you feel like vomiting any second. No pregnancy symptoms though. Just your guilt and the fact that you know. You know that what he's saying is right.

Tears well up in your eyes. Nothing could make this right. There's nothing you could do to prevent this long awaited topic.

Yeonseok scans your face, noticing the sadness and vulnerability and his hands itching to get closer to you, to hold you tight and tell you everything's going to be fine. To tell you not to cry because it breaks his heart to see you crying. However, he knows this needs to be discussed and he can't continue to live in this marriage with zero answers. Or answers that sound nothing but lies.

“I'm sorry.”

Voice cracking, you stare at your husband in guilt and shame which makes it hard for him to look at you. He hates seeing you like this.

“No, Y/N.” he shakes his head, “Don't apologize but give me a proper answer. A reason. Is it your pregnancy? Do you not feel like having sex because of it? Or is there more to it? Maybe we should go to a couple's therapy or ask your doctor if it's normal. We can search for answers together.”

He's caring.

He's trying to find a solution meanwhile you mentally shake your head at everything he says. You don't need a doctor when you know exactly what's wrong. You know the exact reason (or more like reasons) why you don't want to have sex with your husband.

“No, it's not that.” you speak, voice weak and tired.

You're standing in the middle of your dining room, a kitchen island separating you from your husband as you're happy for this obstacle and distance at the moment.

“Then what is it?” he exclaims, trashing his arms in the air before they slap against his sides frustratedly. “Communication has never been a problem between us, Y/N. But now… I feel like I don't know you. You're different.”

He's being open, yet you feel your heart cracking as his words sound like an insult. Though that's crazy because he's nowhere near insulting you.

And when he goes on and on about not understanding you, saying the same words over and over again, something cracks in you with every word he says until you snap.

“Because I feel guilty!”

Admitting it out loud brings a beat of silence, Yeonseok's mouth shutting as he looks genuinely speechless.

“How can I have sex with my husband when I had sex with your brother?” Your voice cracks again, something changing in his expression before he frowns.

“I thought we were way past this.”

“Well, we aren't.” you bite back.

“So what? For the rest of our marriage and lives we won't have sex? Y/N, you knew what you were getting into. We agreed to it. You agreed to it! I was the last one who agreed to it, you told me you're okay, you said–”

“I know!” you yell, your hands slightly shaking as you grip the kitchen's counter for support. “I know.” you say more gently.

“I don't see any solution here, Y/N.”

He hasn't used your name so many times before. It only shows how angry and frustrated he is. Preferably frustrated at you.

“I didn't know I would feel this way, Yeonseok. How should I have known?” you raise your voice, voicing out your own frustration while his features don't soften. They turn even more stern.

“What exactly is your plan, then? Huh? We are married, Y/N. You can't expect me–”

“To wait?” you cut him off, “Is sex what you want? Let's go to the bedroom then. I will let you fuck me. Come on.”

You're frustrated, angry at yourself and you know this is not something you truly want. In the end, you know you wouldn't be able force yourself to have sex with him right now. Or anytime soon. You just can't. There is too much going on for you to do that. You wouldn't force yourself anyway.

As you make your way to him, in the midst of your sentence, Yeonseok shakes his head and holds his hands up. “Stop. You know I don't want that.”

“What do you want?” you ask, standing close to him as you stare into his tired face.

This is ruining both of you.

“I want us to be how we were.”

That single sentence makes you almost choke up, sobs wanting to get out of your mouth but you harshly bite the inside of your cheek.

“I don't know if that's possible. Not after everything.”

He opens his mouth but no words come out.

“I will sleep in the guest's room tonight. I think we both need to cool down to properly talk about this.”

You're escaping the confrontation again, you know that but you're physically and mentally exhausted. Thinking of the baby and yourself, you need to rest and take your mind off this. If that's possible.

“No.”

Yeonseok stops you with his voice booming in the room.

“I will take the guest room. You stay in the bedroom, the bed's bigger there.”

The bed in the guest room is large enough for two people, not mentioning it is for you alone. Both of you know that. Yet he still chose to let you sleep in your bedroom. It makes you even more sad now.

And he leaves, brushes past you as you two remain the most distant you've ever been. Your marriage and relationship is slowly but surely crumbling down.

It's safe to say you haven't slept well. As soon as the main exhaustion wore off, you were awake, tossing in the big and cold bed. Yeonseok kept his word and stayed in the guest room, which made you wonder if he's got trouble sleeping as well.

With having the whole night to think, even though it wasn't the right time to be thinking, you couldn't help yourself but consider every option you have. You couldn't help yourself but to think – if you never decided to go with the decision, you wouldn't be here and your marriage would go well. Maybe you and Yeonseok having kids wasn't planned for you. Maybe you should've lived the rest of your lives with no kids. Maybe after a while, Yeonseok would consider adoption.

But all of those are what if scenarios. No one knows if your marriage wouldn't suffer because of it later on.

You had those kinds of thoughts the whole night and by the time you woke up, it was almost lunchtime. Yeonseok was not at home, something you discovered after finally getting out of the room and walking around the apartment for a good half an hour. No sounds of anyone else being here were heard, so you went to check the guest room just to find it empty.

It's Saturday and Yeonseok has no work.

He wanted to take you out today, if you remember correctly. Not that you mind. After what happened yesterday, going somewhere out and acting like everything is fine is the least of the things you want to do.

When one of your friends calls you, you have to hold your tears back when she not only asks about you, but Yeonseok as well.

“Are you guys doing well?”

The single question makes you choke up on your sobs, she quickly understands there is something going on. So you tell her you don't want to talk about it right now. Luckily she understands and tries to take your mind off it. After an hour of talking and trying to laugh with her, the call ends and you're left alone all over again.

You've no idea what crosses your mind when you're trying to binge-watch the newest reality show, but you find yourself reading your old messages with Yoongi. Most of them are just dates and time, but hold a significant memory.

Even though you haven't slept well, you came up with the only solution you could find. With Yeonseok not being present, you weighed your decision and options. It's not going to be easy but you have this feeling you need to at least try.

He comes back around dinner time. Well, a little after that.

You expect him to come back wasted, or merrily drunk because you've never gone through this kind of situation and never had an argument this heavy. He's not the type to get drunk though, yet you expect him to do things most men would do.

However, he's completely sober when he joins you in the living room, barely giving you a glance before his eyes stop at you for a split second. You decide to speak first, judging by his stance he had no intention to speak at all.

“Can we talk?”

He bites back any bitter remark, simply staring at you before he offers a simple yet distant; “Okay.”

He doesn't sit nor join you on the couch, lingering at the end of it as he waits for you to speak. Mustering the right courage and ignoring your fastly beating heart, you lick your dry lips as you let out those painful words.

“We should take a break.”

Silence.

And then.

“What?” he breathes out.

“We should take a break.” you repeat.

He stares and then he sits on the edge of the couch, holding the arm rest for dear life as he looks shocked. And scared?

“What exactly do you mean by that? We are married, Y/N.”

“I know that,” you tell him slowly, looking at him a little sternly. Of course you know you're married. Does he think you're stupid? “And… we need a break. From everything. From each other. We both need to think.”

“Think?” He sounds shocked. “But you do plan to get back together, right?”

“I… don't know.” you tell him honestly. A break means many things.

But you both need to figure out where you stand and what you want to do with your marriage. You had a lot to think about. You're pregnant now. And to be a single mom sounds scary. But you can't be in a marriage that's not bringing you any joy. There are many issues you both have and you can't bring a baby into it. No matter how scary the thought of being a single mom is. For all you know, Yeonseok could easily kick you in the ass and say the kid is not his. You would end up divorced with a baby and no father near.

You're still not sure if this is the right decision, but you have to try.

“But we're expecting a baby. You really want to do this now?”

“And when? When not now?” you question him, frowning. “Don't think this is easy for me either. I'm the one who's pregnant Yeonseok. You could easily divorce me and leave me alone with the baby.”

“Why would I do that?”

Because you're not a biological father.

You can't say it. It's not fair to him. He is the father. You discussed it. Who cares about the biological side? But there's nothing stopping him from dropping his title of father. The baby is not born yet, no birth certificate has been done yet and won't be until the baby is here.

All you've got in him is trust that he wouldn't do it. Never in a million years you would've thought you would be in this position. Both of you.

“I don't know. I guess we need to figure that out. I just know I need some time alone.”

“Time alone for what?”

“To think,” you respond with a frown. “This is not easy for me either. But I can't be in a marriage where things don't work, Yeonseok. I know it's not your fault,”

It is not. He tried to be the best husband he could be.

“It's all on me. And for your sake, and mine, I need to do this.”

“Okay,” he says after a while. “So what now? Are we going to pretend we are roommates? I don't think I'm fully grasping your vision.”

“I'm gonna move out.”

Yeonseok starts choking on his spit as soon as you say it. “M-move out? Woah, that makes it even more serious and official. Where would you go?”

“I'm still working, partly but I am. I've got some saved-up money.”

“That's not right, Y/N. This apartment is ours. Your name is on it too.”

“I know, but I need to gather my thoughts and be alone.”

“Okay, then I'm moving out.”

“Seok, no.”

He frowns. “No. We have one small apartment in the city. I can stay there.”

You don't want him to be the one that moves out. You're the one who came up with the idea. It doesn't sound fair. Makes you feel like a bigger asshole.

“What does this mean? We're broken up? Are we together? Are we divorcing?”

You don't know.

“Let's just say we're broken up for now. We both need some time off. Some time to think.”

He stays silent before letting out a bitter chuckle. “I can't believe this.”

“Seok–”

“No. I gave you everything and you're leaving me.”

“We talked about this. I told you I need–”

“And what about what I need?!” he exclaims, standing up as you flinch. “I went to such lengths to keep this marriage perfect. I gave you everything I possibly could. I gave you house, luxury–”

“I never asked for any of that!” You stand up too, frowning at him. “And you know that. I never needed your luxury, Yeonseok. That's not why I married you or fell in love with you.”

“I know, yet I still decided to spoil you. Fuck, I even let my brother to fuck you!”

You're confused. He sounded broken and sad just a moment ago, almost as if he's trying to understand your decision but now, he's just angry and yelling at you.

“Please, don't bring that up.”

“Why not?” he snaps. “Isn't that right? You wanted him to fuck you. You agreed to it so we could start a family and now you're leaving me. Let's be honest Y/N,”

He sounds so distant. Like a stranger. Even his eyes darken and your heart squeezes painfully. So does your stomach.

“No one would take care of you like I do. We get divorced and then what? Co-parent? Or you're going to leave me and be a single mother? Nobody would ever want a single mother.”

Tears fall down your cheeks but he continues, staring at you without flinching as he spits out venom that slowly digs into every fiber of your body.

He just told you minutes ago that he wouldn't leave you alone with a baby. He made it clear he still wants to be a father no matter what. But considering everything he's spitting out, it's like he's trying to intimidate you.

Everything is a shock right now.

You stand there, crying and listening to him and his scenarios that are supposed to scare you. To show you what a good life you have with him. And for a second, you don't recognize him. You can't believe you married this man. But isn't this your fault? You've brought this inside him.

“Stop.” you whisper. “Just stop!” you scream.

He breathes heavily, glaring at you like you're the biggest enemy. You feel out of place. Like you don't belong here.

“Leave or I will.”

“You have nowhere to go.” he scoffs.

Your eyebrows shoot up before you turn around. No things with you, just your bag where you quickly toss your phone and wallet as you slip your shoes. Yeonseok is hot on your heels, doing nothing to stop you as you simply watch.

You take your things with you and slam the door shut. The door doesn't open but you don't linger around to wait for anything. Wiping the tears with the back of your hand, you rush to the car and bite back any tears that want to spill out. You need to get out of this place, drive safely so you don't harm yourself and the baby. And then you can cry all you want.

It was stupid of you to leave without any of your stuff. But it was the least of your worries and in the heat of the moment, you just had to get out of that place. Being there next to Yeonseok was suffocating. And the thought of it still is.

You park in front of a familiar building, its state not looking any better than you can remember. Who would've thought you would be back? Certainly not you.

But after sitting in your car that you parked in an empty parking lot in front of an already closed grocery store, Yeonseok words echoed in your mind.

You have nowhere to go.

It's not that true actually.

You could easily call one of your friends. But that would mean explaining them things and you want to avoid that right now. Plus, they would be the first thing on Yeonseok's mind if he were looking for you.

Will he? You're not sure.

You never had an argument like this and it's hard to say what he's going to do. But as of now, you want to be as far away from him as possible.

You thought not taking anything with you besides your wallet, phone and bag was stupid, but it's certainly not as stupid as you coming here. Why here out of all people? Why him?

He probably doesn't want anything to do with you, wants to distance from the drama as much as possible. Can you blame him? No. A part of you feels guilty for coming here. And nervous too. Is he even here?

Silently hoping he is, you make your way to the tattoo shop where its walls hold dozens of memories shared between you and him. But none of that is important right now. Before you can change your mind, you deliver a few soft knocks on the door.

There is no sound, no buzzing or chatter that could tell you there are people inside but the door looks like they can hold a sound or two. Much to your luck, the door opens shortly after and an unfamiliar face pops out of the door frame.

“Hello?”

He looks surprised to see you here, or maybe it's the weird expression you're holding that is somewhere looking like it's the end of the world between a massive need to cry your eyes out. However, you haven't cried yet so your eyes aren't watery nor red. You haven't seen yourself and you only hope you don't look as half bad as you feel.

But he still sends a bright smile your way. He does look kind of cute, definitely younger than you or Yoongi. Or maybe it's the blond hair and clear skin that make him look so youthful.

“How can I help you?” He offers a second after, relaxing a little as you catch a glimpse of the space behind him. You're surprised to see the place almost empty and an unsettling feeling grips your stomach.

“Hi,” you breathe out, “Is Yoongi here?”

“Ah, Yoongi is no longer working here. He moved out of this place, I'm renting it now.” he explains and you dryly gulp at the new information.

“Oh.”

The guy checks your face, tilting his head to the side for a moment as he studies your appearance.

“Um, but he gave me the address of his new tattoo shop. He might be there, if you wanna check?” he questions and your head snaps in his direction.

“Yeah, that would be awesome. Thanks.” you offer him a slight smile as he lifts his point finger in the air before he disappears inside.

He comes back not even a minute after, a yellow square paper in his hands as he gives you Yoongi's new address of his workplace.

“Umm, I should've asked sooner but you're not like, I don't know how to say this…”

You raise your brow at him.

“You're not… some psycho or something, right? He would kill me if he knew I just gave his address to someone.”

Chuckling, you open your mouth. “Chill. We are family.” you explain, not wanting him to worry. Technically you didn't lie, so there's nothing wrong with your response even though it does feel weird to say it.

It's Yeonseok connecting you two. Well, realistically there's also the baby but that doesn't exactly make you family.

The guy visibly breathes out a relieved sigh and luckily doesn't question you any further as you thank him for the last time, bidding a quick goodbye.

When you arrive at the scribbled address your navigation so kindly navigated you to, you park your car nearby on the opposite side of the road. You have to admit. This neighborhood and the building itself looks amazing, way more safer and in a better state. It's a complex of one big building with multiple shops. From a hair salon, some fast foods to a tattoo shop – which you hope that's where Yoongi is.

There's cool graffiti art on the wall of the mentioned tattoo shop, the name yet to be announced. You admire the art while you walk before you push the door inside. Like you expected, the place is spacious and there's an entryway. There's no chair or machines you walk right into, there's an actual reception and a bunch of boxes surrounding the place.

And you feel like an idiot for coming inside like some intruder, especially when there are people inside, chatting and laughing at the black reception table. Of course, they notice you right away and their heads are turned your direction in a split second.

You don't recognize any of them, at least not at first glance but that's before you recognize the woman from Yoongi's old shop. Yoongi's friend. Her hair is black and short now, a couple of new tattoos adoring her exposed thighs.

Her being here means Yoongi is around too. Or at least she could lead you to him.

But this hunt for Yoongi is starting to make you feel ridiculous. If he's not here, you will just have to figure out something on your own. Maybe you should sleep at a hotel or something, and not bother anyone else.

“Hi, sorry for barging in.” You even sound like an idiot.

However, the group looks curious about your presence, some of them shoot you a bright grin which eases down your nerves a little.

“Hey. You're Yoongi's sister-in-law, right?” The woman speaks up, her eyes scrunched for a second before they go back to their normal shape as she recognizes you.

“Yeah. Is he here?” you ask, shifting on your spot as you ignore the man eyeing you up and down with a little smirk.

He's got a few tattoos himself, the one on his neck catching your attention the most. However you don't let your eyes linger for too long.

“Yoongi, you've got a visitor!” She yells, tilting her head to the back where there's something that looks like a hall but it's too dark there to tell any more details. Even from where you're standing, they're mostly in your eyesight.

None of them make any sound, simply watching you and giving Yoongi's friend curious looks. Feeling a little bit awkward, you take the time to look around instead. There's nothing much to see. Boxes and unpacked stuff everywhere as everything smells of…. Novelty.

Following footsteps catch everyone's attention, including yours as he comes out of the dark hall, fully exposing himself to the bright lights of his new tattoo studio and a set of curious eyes. Eyes peeling off the floor to look at his friends, a look of annoyance and confusion crosses on his smooth face. Something about finally seeing him and being in the same room as him once again, makes your heart pick up the pace. You ascribe it to your nervosity and sudden regret of coming here.

“What?” he grumbles, silver hair slightly messy as his skin glows – or maybe it's sweat because he does seem to look a little tired. Judging by looking around, it seems like he's been working to get this place together.

His friend raises her brow and points your direction, all attention back to you while your eyes stay solely on Yoongi. You see it from the very beginning. From him frowning in confusion, staring at his friends before he follows the direction her finger is pointing at – you – until his eyes fall on your figure standing a few meters away from everyone.

His frown deepens before a look of surprise makes it onto his face while his mouth opens – very slightly – agape.

It's awkward. All of his friends – or whoever they are – are completely quiet, just watching you two like you're the most interesting part of the day.

“Hi,” you speak up, hugging your arms which totally reveals your uncertainty of coming here. Your usual collected and confident self is gone now, much to Yoongi's surprise. “Can we talk?”

“I don't know about our Yoongi, but you can talk to me anytime you want.” One of the guys says with a grin, his words causing you to send him an unappreciative glare. He obviously thinks it's a joke but you hate guys like that.

“Cut it out, Jimin,” Yoongi scolds him, sending him a second long glare before his eyes are back on you. “Come here. We can talk in the back.” Yoongi tells you and you get moving, not wanting his friends to stare at you any longer.

Do they know? Did Yoongi tell them? Is that why they stare at you as if you were an alien?

As soon as you get close to Yoongi, he motions to the back with his arm as the woody familiar scent of him surrounds the space around him. Yoongi sends a last glare to his friend or all of them – you don't know – before he leads you to the mentioned back. The hall is dark but not as dark as it appeared from where you were standing.

The back door is open and bright, revealing all the equipment a tattoo artist needs. There are empty boxes, some of them still unopened, lingering on the floor as he closes the door behind you. You look around, sensing the familiarity as Yoongi has stuck to his previous color and managed to have this place dark. But it doesn't look like some dungeon or creepy dark tattoo studio. Instead, it looks even more modern and chic – and you know it's going to look even better once it's all done. There is a long and wide mirror to be installed, leaning against the wall with a sheer bag on it protecting the glass.

But that's not why you came here. Therefore you don't look around for too long, turning around to Yoongi as soon as he closes the door and motions for you to sit down on a brand new couch. It's similar to the one he owned in his old studio. The only difference is that it's not black but light cream – however the leather looks comfortable and expensive.

Sitting down on the comfortable piece of furniture, Yoongi sits down on one of the chairs, sprawling his legs rather tiredly as he stretches his neck with a mild frown. “What are you doing here?”

He doesn't sound hostile but confused.

“I'm sorry. I didn't know where to go. I went to your old place but some guy told me you're no longer there, so he gave me this address. I hope that's okay.” you explain quickly, rubbing your knees as your palms get sweaty with each second.

“That's fine,” he assures you casually. “Did something happen?”

Staring at his brown eyes, you're only more confirmed what a stupid idea it was to come here. What's he got to do with your personal problems? He looks fucking confused, as he should. Probably wondering why you always keep coming back to him for some reason.

Yoongi might not know all of you, but he's not stupid or not observant enough to not notice when you're acting weird. When it's clear there's something wrong.

“Me and… your brother had an argument,” you start, staring at your knees. “I suggested we should take a break and well, he didn't exactly take it well.”

Yoongi leans forward, slowly and patiently as his frown deepens. “You broke up with him?”

“We are married. I don't think we can break up.” you try to joke, chuckling shakily as Yoongi's expression doesn't move which makes your grin drop.

“You know what I mean. Did he do something to you?” Yoongi asks, an awaited question finally spoken as his eyes quickly scans you from head to tone. He sounds unsure, not thinking his brother would be able to hurt anyone physically, especially his wife. But he still makes sure, it's a natural response.

“Apart from getting angry and telling me not so nice things, no. He wouldn't touch me like that.” you say, wincing at the thought of it.

Yoongi slowly nods, eyes never escaping you. “I don't understand… What happened then? Why would you want to take a break?”

“Because I can't be with him.” Your response is quick, mouth shutting right away as Yoongi's brows lift up.

Great…

“At least not right now. I just need some time to think. Our marriage and relationship is not what it used to be and it got me confused. I can't keep doing this to him and he expects things from me, which I understand but I also need to put myself first too, I can't suffer and everything got so fucking messy–”

“Hey, hey,” He butts in, leaning his head toward you as he makes sure you look at him. Once you do, he continues. “Breathe. Okay?”

Wow, easy to be said.

He wants to ask why you came to him? What's he got to do with your and his brother's issues? The questions sit on the tip of his tongue and he's ready to ask them, still straightforward as he is but then a silent sob leaves your mouth and he freezes, watching you shake your head.

“I'm sorry. I didn't know where else to go.” You repeat your previous words and he feels bad.

He's not great with handling other people's emotions, fuck, he's not the best person to comfort someone and most of the time he doesn't know what to say. This time it's not any different but it doesn't mean he's fine watching other people going through stuff. He's not as emotionless as people make him out to be – or as he often portrays himself to be.

“It's okay.”

“It's not,” You sob, finally breaking in tears. “You don't get it, Yoongi. One moment he said he's going to be the baby's father and then the next he almost hints at the possibility of me ending up alone. I don't want to be a single mom. I can't do this. I didn't go through this just for this to happen.”

You cry and Yoongi feels uncomfortable, not sure what to do as he listens to your cries and tries to make out your words.

Deep down, you know if you haven't said anything to Yeonseok and haven't proposed a break, none of this would happen. But your marriage and relationship would suffer in different ways. You're just trying to get this right, to deal with this somehow but it's fucking tough when you're all alone.

“How can he say that? He wanted to have kids too.”

He says kids in general. He avoids talking about the baby that's already growing inside your womb.

“He can't possibly leave you all alone to deal with… everything alone, right?”

You wipe your nose with your sleeve as you let out a bitter chuckle. You look at Yoongi, eyes and cheeks all wet and teary. “The baby hasn't been born yet. There are no documents signed. If he decides not to be the father, he can. DNA tests will prove he's not and I'm–” All alone. Sniffling, you stop yourself from saying.

“If he does that, he's an even bigger asshole than I thought he is.” Yoongi scoffs but you don't pay attention to those words too much, wiping your cheeks. “Do you, uh, want some water or something?”

You chuckle, shaking your head.

“I'm sure he just had a tough time dealing with the whole break thing. He loves you, Y/N. He always wanted to have kids. He is gonna come back.”

Is that what you want though?

“I don't know if that's what I want.”

“What?” Yoongi deadpans.

“I, like I told you, our marriage is not what it used to be.”

You don't want to get to the whole topic of you feeling guilty all over again. You know the last time you talked about it to Yoongi, or more precisely, the last time you decided to end things out of guilt, he didn't really take it well. Something tells you if you told him the whole truth, he wouldn't take it well either. What would you even tell him when you're confused yourself?

“Okay.” he says unsurely.

He leans back against the couch, letting a sigh escape his lips as you two sit in silence. It's awkward. He doesn't want to ask any more questions, thinking if you wanted to tell him you probably would. But one question that has already been asked still lingers in the air and after a moment of silently watching you, he can't help it but ask you again.

“Y/N, really, what are you doing here? I'm not kicking you out or anything but–is there a reason why you came to me?”

One thing is sure, you feel even worse after he says it and once he looks the horrification on your face, he opens his mouth again to justify.

“You got into a fight with my brother, you said you're taking a break. Did you pack some of your things with you? Where are you even going to stay?”

He hopes you didn't come here because of that.

The last thing Yoongi needs is for his brother to be knocking on his door or be involved any more than he already is. Just the fact you came here made him slightly involved and he doesn't like that. He was doing fine. His business is going good and finally, Yoongi is out of debts – thanks to the money Yeonseok gave him in a big exchange. He didn't do it for free though.

After you decided to break things off which ended up being a success for you too in the end, he thought he would never have to deal with this shit again. But here you are, cheeks stained with tears and in a state Yoongi would never imagine for you to be in.

“I had to leave in the middle of our fight. I didn't bring any stuff with me. I wasn't thinking…” You shake your head at your own stupidity while Yoongi gives you a pitiful look.

“Look, let me be straight with you. I wouldn't want to get involved in your personal problems with my brother. I'm glad I don't have to face him again and this thing we did–is way past us.” He tries to explain, mentally cringing how weird he sounds but he's only trying to voice out his thoughts.

You gape at him. A part of you understands him but the other is hurt how he doesn't care. Why would he? What did you expect of him? You know what… you expected him to be here for you, to maybe help you or assure you everything's going to be fine. Like a friend.

But you only realize he never was.

And you only hate yourself for it, because you made yourself to believe that in a way, he cared for you and wasn't so careless as Yeonseok pictured him – along with their parents.

“Don't worry, Yoongi. I'm planning to stay at a hotel.” You sound a little bitter but Yoongi doesn't comment on it.

The thing is, Yeonseok offered to move to another place but since you left in the middle of the argument, one that wouldn't probably end if you didn't leave, but right now you're not so sure. Is he still there? Where can you go grab your things? Are you even staying at your place or you will have to move out? Where will you go? You don't know anything.

It's a lot for your mind and body. You just want to be somewhere safe where you could possibly cry yourself to sleep.

“I just don't know what you want from me, Y/N.” Yoongi reminds you with an edge to his tone. “You can't come here and talk about being a single mom. What do you expect me to do, Y/N?”

You open your mouth, staring at him in disbelief.

“I don't expect you to do anything, Yoongi.” you bite back and he only scoffs.

“You and Yeonseok were willing to do anything to have this baby. You gotta figure it out.”

“I gotta figure it out.” you scoff under your breath.

“Yes, Y/N.”

God, you suddenly hate when he says your name. He sounds so stern and frustrated. He has never spoken to you like this.

“Or what did you expect me to do?”

You hate how accusing he suddenly sounds and it makes you frown as you look at him with a glare.

“I don't know what I expected but this was certainly not it. It was a mistake to come here.”

“I think you know.” He successfully ignores your remark but something tells you he definitely agrees with you. He doesn't want you here. Like he said, he doesn't want to get involved and that's a clue enough for you. But you stay glued to your place, ready for more throws from him.

“What?” you deadpan.

“Oh, come on. How more obvious can you get? Yeonseok starts talking shit about not being the father and you come to me,” he says firmly, suddenly standing up as his hand goes to his silver hair before he lets go. “I don't want kids, Y/N, I told you that. I'm not your kid's father.”

Every word he says is like a knife digging into your heart. Most importantly, you realize what he must be thinking. He questioned your motive for coming here and now he thinks you came here because you expected him to offer you god knows what. Apparently to take Yeonseok's place just in case he decides not to be a father after all.

He got it all wrong.

Your mistake and your own confusion has brought you into the mess. And Yoongi accusing you of something that's not even true hurts as fuck. And you could try to explain it to him but the truth is – his words hurt. They hurt so much that you can't bring yourself to explain anything.

However, his words are harsh regardless of how cold he sounds to be talking about a kid he helped to beget.

You stand up too, glaring at him through your teary eyes as you furiously wipe your cheeks.

“That's not why I came here at all. That's not what I want from you.” you tell him firmly despite your voice shaking.

“Really? Because–”

“You know what, fuck you.” You don't let him finish as you spring out of the room, not caring how harshly you open the door as you make it past his friends.

They stop in the midst of their conversation, not hanging around the reception table this time but unpacking some of the boxes as they stare at you while you storm out of the shop. Fuck Min Yoongi. Fuck all of them.

You've managed to dig yourself even a deeper hole with the Min brothers.

#networkbangtan #ksmutclub #btswritingcafe #ficswithluv #bts smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #bts au #suga smut #personasintro

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pursuedbyamemoryy · 1 year

Note

Hope you're having a good day/night! I come with a request if you want to write it (if not then that's cool!) What about a Charles Smith x reader where it's like 2 or three months after leaving with him to help the Wapiti people and reader finds out shes pregnant, and is super worried to tell him because of everything going on, of course he finds out though.

a promising future

☆ thank you for requesting! i love charles so much and i had fun writing this, i hope you enjoy reading <3 !!

warnings - pregnancy ( lmk if i'm missing any ! )

w/c - 1.8k

it had been nearly three months since the downfall of the van der linde gang. you and charles had decided to stay up north with the wapiti people and help them get to safety, rather than go back to beaver hollow. this gang had meant a lot to you, and the fact that it was falling apart was hard for you. you were close to so many members, including a couple who had unfortunately already passed away. you knew it was inevitable, but you had decided you’d rather not see the absolute end, so you stayed with charles. he was all you needed anyways, he was the love of your life, and he meant everything to you.

you and charles helped rains fall and the wapiti people pack up and move up north to canada, helping them get away from colonel favours and the army, in hopes of giving them as much freedom and peace as possible. you were happy to help, rains fall and his people were nothing but kind to you, and they deserved the best they could get. however with the stress of helping them out, you started to feel sick, and oh so exhausted. it’s just stress. i’m not resting enough. i haven’t been drinking enough water. you tried to convince yourself. deep down you knew that wasn’t true, but you didn’t want to add any more stress to you or charles’ life.

you and charles hadn’t exactly been careful when you’d slept together recently. you hadn’t had much time to yourselves, so you took advantage of every moment alone, which resulted in neither of you caring about where he finished. you had been around when abigail was pregnant with jack, and you had a lot of the same symptoms she did back then. there was no doubt in your mind that you were pregnant, and you were terrified.

you wanted to tell charles, you really did, but with everything going on these past few months you could never find a good time. you figured the last thing he needed right now was to be told that he was going to be a father, that you had a baby on the way. you knew that normally, under any other circumstances he’d be happy. but now he was working day and night, doing what he could to help the tribe get settled, helping with the sick, and getting them what they needed. you didn’t want him to worry about you and your baby on top of that.

you knew charles had noticed you were out of sorts, of course he had. he was very observant when it came to you especially, and you caught him looking at you worriedly here and there over the past few weeks. he knew you’d come to him when you were ready to talk, so he didn’t pry.

you were lost in your thoughts, helping with the laundry with some other tribe members. you heard someone come up behind you and rest their hand on your shoulder, you knew immediately who it was. he brushed your hair to the side, kissing your neck gently. you leaned into his touch, humming happily.

“hi charles” you said with a smile.

“hi, my love,” he said, placing another soft kiss to your jaw. “i was going to go out and hunt and get something for dinner, i was wondering if you’d like to come with me?”

you smile, and nod. “yeah sure, i’m just about finished with laundry anyways.” you wrung the water out of the shirt you were washing, laying it out on a rock to dry. standing up, you wiped your hands on your skirt and turned around to face charles, grabbing his hand as he led you to your horses.

“have you found any good hunting spots around here yet?” you say, patting taima gently and making your way over to your own horse, tightening his saddle and giving him a sugar cube.

“i found one decent spot close to here that had a bunch of deer, other than that i haven’t had much time to hunt.” he made sure taima’s saddle was secure and mounted her, waiting for you to do the same.

you hummed in response, mounting your own horse and riding beside charles out of the tribe’s current camp.

the ride was quiet, but not awkward. there was a lot of comfortable silence between the two of you, which you never minded. he led you a short while away from camp to a grassy clearing next to a thick grove of trees, where you saw a herd of deer lazily grazing.

he held his finger up to his lips, motioning you to be quiet so you didn’t scare away the deer. you nodded, slowly and quietly getting off your horse and drawing your bow from your saddle bag, charles doing the same.

you crouched down next to him, stealthily making your way closer to the deer. you got close enough that you’d be able to land a good shot, but still far enough away that you wouldn’t scare the herd. you both drew your bows, aiming at different deer. charles landed a clean shot, and while yours wasn’t as clean you both managed to take down the two deer with just one arrow each.

charles looked over at you with a smile, “nice work as always, my love.” he grabbed one of your hands, kissing the back of it gently.

“i could say the same to you.” you said with a smile.

you both stand up, making your way over to the deer, slinging the one you killed over the back of your horse and securing it. usually a quick hunt such as this wasn’t too tiring, but you were quickly starting to feel exhausted. you watched as charles secured his deer on taima’s rump. he then made his way over to you, looking into your eyes deeply, as if he could read all your thoughts.

“are you feeling okay? i know we’ve had a lot going on but you seem... distracted?” he took your hands in his.

you took a deep breath. you needed to tell him. he deserved to know. god, how do you even tell someone this? would he be upset? would he be excited? your mind was racing, your hands shaking in his. you started to tear up, your anxiety taking over.

“hey, hey, it’s okay.” he pulled you in for a hug, running his hand up and down your back comfortingly.

you rested your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, trying to collect yourself and your thoughts. charles didn’t press further, he just continued to hold you until you were ready to talk.

you took another deep breath and took a step back, looking him in the eyes. tell him. he looked worried. tell him. he continued to run his hand up and down your back comfortingly. tell. him.

“i’m pregnant.”

he stiffened slightly, his eyes going wide. “really?” he looked you up and down slowly. “you’re actually…?”

you nodded, looking away from him and at some random spot in the dirt. “yes. i’m sorry, charles.” you said quietly.

“sorry? my love, why are you sorry? this is great news!” he replied immediately, his hands moving to cup your face gently.

“we’ve had so much going on lately… i was worried that you’d be upset because we’ve been so stressed between everything that’s happened between the gang and the tribe...” you rambled, pausing for a moment. “you’re happy then?” you looked back at him, your eyes starting filling with tears once again, this time happy ones.

“of course i’m happy. sure we’ve been busy, but i love you, and i’m more than excited to start a family with you. in fact i’ve been wanting to start a family with you, and now that we’re out of the gang, we don’t have as much to worry about. no more bounties on our heads and pinkertons breathing down our necks.” he grinned. “and i have to be honest, i suspected you might be pregnant, but i hadn’t had an opportunity to talk to you about it.” he chuckled, wiping a stray tear that slipped down your cheek. he looked you in the eyes, then leaned down to place a soft kiss on your lips.

he wasn’t upset at all. he wants this, he wants a family. he’s happy. you kissed him back, wrapping your arms behind his neck.

you let out a sob as you pulled away, tears flowing down your cheeks. “i’m so glad.” you laughed, relieved. of course he was happy, why wouldn’t he be?

you giggled as he peppered kisses across your face, kissing away your tears. he pulled you in for another kiss on the lips, soft, sweet, and passionate. you didn’t pull away until you were both out of breath, resting your forehead against his.

“i love you.” you sighed.

“i love you so much.” you stayed like that for a moment before he reached into his satchel and pulled out a little envelope excitedly. “i almost forgot to tell you, i got us a place. it’s not much as of right now, but i’ll fix it up real nice for us. for our family.” he showed you the deed, which confirmed his statement.

you grinned, kissing him again. “oh charles, this is wonderful, thank you. thank you so much. how did you even afford this?”

“i’ve been saving as much as i can from all the jobs we used to go on while we were in the gang. it wasn’t much at first, but it added up.” he smiled. “we’ll still help out the tribe, of course, but i thought it was about time we got a place of our own. i want our baby to live a better life then we have, and i’ll do anything to make that happen, you hear?” he grabbed your chin gently. “i’ll do anything to make you and our baby happy, because if you’re happy, im happy.” he pulled you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head gently.

you stayed like that for a while, the rest of the world around you forgotten. for all you cared it was just you and charles in that moment. eventually as the sun started to sink below the trees, you decided it was time to head back to camp, lest the spoils of your hunt go to waste. you mounted your horses and made your way back to camp together, happier then you had been in a while. for once your future looked promising, and you were more than happy to be spending it with charles, and eventually your baby.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption fanfic #charles smith #charles smith x reader #pursuedbyamemory writes

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cui-nisi · 5 months

Text

Leon Kennedy x Black Reader (Headcanon)

•Notes•

Pairing: RE4 Leon Kennedy x Black Reader

Genre: smut, fluff, headcanon

Summary: A few headcanons of what it would be like dating Leon Kennedy.

Warnings: smut at the end but it’s nothing too graphic, pet names (‘baby’, ‘love’)

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: This is my first headcanon so sorry if it’s shitty but I hope you enjoy it regardless! Also the first section for the headcanon was written more as an intro to set everything up!

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°

⟡⋆.˚❀⋆.˚ ⟡⋆.˚❀⋆.˚⟡ First Meeting ⟡⋆.˚❀⋆.˚❀⋆.˚⟡ ⟡⋆.˚

When Leon was first assigned to train you, the newest recruit brought onto the Division of Security Operations, he could only bite back a curse word from slipping past his lips and nod towards his superior, accepting his assignment no matter how begrudgingly. He didn’t have time to train newbies, he had his own shit going on which he proceeded to comb through on his way to see you.

However, all his internal grumbling fell to a muted hush when he entered the training room. His eyes fell on you and while they narrowed into an assessing squint, inside he felt his heart pound against his chest as his eyes flickered over your body, briefly lingering on your curves before clearing his gaze. He didn’t know it then but he was fascinated with you from day one.

Leon could be a pain in the ass when it came to training, putting too much emphasis on the minute details and leaving all his trainees burned out by the end of the week. But with you, it was different. Whenever Leon became too overbearing, rather than taking it you’d quip back at Leon, taking him by surprise with your sharp tongue despite your mostly unassuming nature.

Leon couldn’t help but feel heat wash through him whenever you retorted against his commands, how your pretty eyes flared with a mixture of passion and determination whenever you spoke. If Leon looked close enough, just beyond the surface of your alluring gaze, he could see a silent defying challenge in your eyes, a challenge that Leon found himself more and more eager to fulfill as the days turned into weeks…

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊‧⁺˖ Symptoms of a Crush ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊‧

As stoic and hardened as Leon had become over the years, the moment you entered his life it was almost as if the time he had spent crafting a meticulous wall around his emotions meant nothing as his heart would crash against his chest whenever you smiled at him or caught his gaze that seemed to be permanently locked on you.

During meetings, Leon makes a habit of getting there early, always saving a seat for you beside him with a steaming cup of coffee waiting for you.

Normally, Leon is usually able to remain focused during meetings, the longer the better. But now with you sitting so close to him, every meeting seemingly begins to test his self-restraint.

He subtly tries to move closer to you to take in more of your sweet perfume, if the meeting drags on he’ll let his hand trace random patterns over any exposed skin he can reach. Whether that be your hand, arm, palm, or knee– as long as Leon can feel the warmth of your brown skin underneath his fingertips he’s content.One day after training, Leon invites you out to a favorite bar of his, wanting to spend more time with you without divulging how much he craves your attention. This became a habit for you two, and soon you guys were going out for lunches and dinners after work on the regular.

Practically everyone at the agency knows that you and Leon are damn near a full-fledged couple.

Leon simply rolls his eyes whenever his co-workers chide him for taking so long to officially ask you out, giving them the same answer: “It’s none of your business.” And that pretty much shuts down any further conversation on the topic.

Leon doesn’t like to share. He hates sharing your attention with anything or anyone else. He also hates anyone prying into your relationship. He felt that what you two had going needed its time and space to cultivate into something more and he didn’t need his nosy-ass co-workers butting in to ruin the delicate intimacy that was building between you and him.

Leon loves to watch you train. He loves observing how your soft curves can carry such deadly velocity and force. The disparity between how he viewed you and how you trained were two stark comparisons but it only added to your attractiveness as Leon found himself having to shade the tent at the front of his pants more often than he’d like.

˗ˏˋ༻ʚ♡︎ɞ༺ˎˊ˗ The Relationship ˗ˏˋ༻ʚ♡︎ɞ༺ˎˊ˗

Leon, while difficult, managed to keep most of his affections and desires for you at bay. But when you agreed to be his girlfriend on one of your late-night hangouts, he couldn’t care less about his image and prioritizing professionalism. He had you now and that’s all he cared about.

He showers you with love and affection, taking you out on mini lunch dates when both of your schedules align.

When at work, Leon does his best to remain professional when around others, not wanting to display your relationship to everyone. He gets antsy, however, when he’s next to you and can’t touch you due to the nature of your working relationship. That doesn’t stop him from grasping your hand whenever he can, letting his thumb brush small comforting circles over your hand.

Leon loves staring at you, especially when your side profile when you’re focusing on something. He likes the way your eyebrows furrow and eyes glint with determination.

It’s no surprise that Leon is protective of you. The nature of his career was built around protecting people so when it came down to protecting the ones he cared about, he could be a bit overbearing.

He helps you take out your braids or weave if you wear them. At first, he wasn’t too sure how to properly assist, not wanting to pull or damage your hair. But he still wanted to help and so after asking you a few questions and taking out a few braids, he quickly got the hang of things and now regularly asks to help with your hair whenever you change up your hairstyle.

He always makes you text him whenever you’re going out, wanting to make sure that you arrive at your destinations on time. If you forget to text him, he’ll check your location before calling you to make sure that you’re okay.

Anytime Leon leaves for a longer mission he makes sure to lavish you in love and affection, growing more affectionate and touchy when he knows he’ll have to leave you.

Waking up in the morning is Leon’s favorite part of the day, it gives him time to admire your face unabashedly. He loves to trace his callused finger gently along the surface of your skin, lightly tracing your jawline and cheeks while trying to not wake you.

Whenever Leon comes back from long missions, you make it your job to shower him with comfort and affection. Those nights usually consist of lacy lingerie, scattered candles, and a very satisfied Leon.

Leon is a big cuddler despite what others may think. He loves using his larger frame to encapsulate you in his embrace, tugging you close to him while he takes in the scent of your hair, his head nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

Gives you hugs from behind, his heavy arms wrapping around your waist and tugging you against his chest while his head hovers over your shoulders.

Leon can never say no to you. He could be working in his home office, filing away documents, and sending in mission reports only to stop when you walk in, your touch distracting him in the best way. He’ll always put on the facade of resistance, “Babe, I’m working…” but that sentiment doesn’t stand a chance when put up against the pleading look you always give him in response that always makes him fold, pulling you down on top of him and pressing his lips against yours.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖𖦹⭒°｡⋆ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𖦹⭒°｡⋆ NSFW .𖥔 ݁ ˖𖦹⭒°｡⋆ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𖦹⭒°｡⋆

Leon loves eye contact. Whenever his toned body hovers over yours he can’t help but stare into your eyes. He loves watching how your face contorts in pleasure with his every thrust, enjoying the low whimpers that escape you when he pulls out only to be greeted by the satisfying moans that escape you when he plunges back inside you.

He loves how vocal you are, he likes hearing how good he’s making you feel. If you try to keep quiet he’ll simply smirk in amusement before fucking you senseless into the covers, pleasuring you to an agonizing degree until he hears you crying out for his name.

જ⁀➴ “That’s it, baby… let it out for me. Let me hear those pretty moans.”

Leon loves it when you give him head, but he’ll never ask for it.

He’ll always prioritize your pleasure, always making you cum first before him.

Leon enjoys talking you through your orgasms, especially when you ride him.

જ⁀➴ “Take it slow, love. Don’t rush yourself…”

He loves it when you give him massages, feeling your warm palms glide along the contours of his tense body never failed to get a reaction out of him, the towel covering his lower half not doing much to hide his erection, not that he wanted to hide it from you.

Touching your body is Leon’s favorite pastime. On the couch his hand usually rests over your shoulder, tucking you against him. When in public he holds you by the waist, letting everyone know that you are his.

When he’s drunk, his usual self-restraint weakens which allows his hands to roam over the curves of your soft brown skin. In those instances, he couldn’t give a damn who was around, letting his hands trail up your thighs or brush over your breasts while his lips brush against the side of your neck, his low raspy voice murmuring sweet licentious words into your ear.

If Leon is sitting somewhere, he’ll always reach out to gently grasp your waist, pulling you onto his lap so he can pepper your face with teasing kisses.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ ⋆.˚ .𖥔˚

Overall, Leon is completely in love with you. He’s a devoted and loyal lover who will always prioritize your comfort and safety over everything. He shows his love to you through physical touch and acts of service, jumping at any chance he could take to help you if it would bring a smile to your face.

*“You know I’d do anything for you right, babe? All you have to do is ask and I’ll do it for you.”* ―୨୧⋆ ˚

#leon x reader #re4 leon #leon smut #leon s kennedy #headcanon #black reader #leon x y/n #leon kennedy #re4make #re4 x reader #re4 #re4 smut #re4 remake

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meabh-mcinness · 1 year

Text

In Sickness

Humans do not have 'Evil Cycles' it's true. However, they can bend under stress in other ways. Some lose their minds and others present more physical symptoms. With all the stress of parenting, working as a teacher, and doing your best to make sure no one figures out either your or Iruma's rather human status, it's no wonder you fall victim to a stress fever. Luckily for you, the resident gargoyle demon is more than happy to help nurse you back to health once he discovers your ill state.

This was originally created/inspired for @snippychicke because I love their Balam x reader story "For Sake of a Smile". While not finished yet it's incredibly well written and I would highly recommend it, also for Sleepylilacfox who writes "New Start: The Beginning of a Beautiful Life" on AO3 and wattpad which is a well-written FemIruma x Everyone story I highly recommend!

No TriggerWarnings! I think.

You quietly groaned at the massive headache that had made itself known to you the moment you had woken from your alarm. Head pounding, all you could do was curl into yourself just that much tighter. Pulling your blankets up further to block the almost nonexistent light from daybreak, you did your best to give the impression that you did not exist. If you did it well enough, perhaps you wouldn't, and then all your pain, physical or mental, would be gone as well.

Of course, you knew you couldn't. There were people who depended on you, Iruma depended on you. Never mind the entire school body of both students and teachers who needed you to do your job. And yet you just couldn't make yourself move, your brain just felt so slow and your body so heavy. Perhaps one day off wouldn't be so bad.

Right?

No, you needed to get up. There was paperwork to be done, you were supposed to supervise that new library project for Professor Farbas, and Professor Stolas was expecting your help with the greenhouse as they deconstructed the Harvest Festival. Slowly you started to undo your burrito wrap, mind racing with both nothing and everything you needed to do; like your classes needed teaching (who would have thought you'd be such a natural at your field) and you needed to –

"Fall back asleep, my lady." An even voice broke through the fog, and a cool hand placed itself gently onto your forehead, startling you. Red and yellow eyes stared unwaveringly into your hazy ones, slowly getting further away as you were gently pressed back down. When did they get here? There couldn't have been that much time spent after your alarm, and you hadn't even heard your door open, much less seen them come in.

"But Opera, I need to-" You started to get out and tried to push back up but were quickly silenced when they easily overpowered you despite still feeling like they were only barely touching you. Seriously, were you just that weak, or was the Cat demon just the embodiment of excessive strength?

"While I am not often in the business of disobeying my masters," that was a straight-up lie, they disobeyed Sullivan all the time, "it is my belief that what you need is a couple of days rest. You have been overworking yourself, the same as Master Iruma does. Had you been a demon, you would have already entered an Evil cycle, even now I worry you still will." Opera stated while fixing your blankets to lay over you properly again.

"Humans don' evil cycle," you tried to protest, slurring the sentence out. They only had mental breakdowns, and you did far more things at once in a shorter amount of time in the human world than here while staying completely sane. Honestly, you felt as if you had barely any work here and were taking advantage of Sullivan's kindness. For the most part you just spent your days reading, keeping an eye on the school library, and teaching classes. And when you weren't working you were hanging out with your family or the other teachers. You did occasionally (often) help others out as well, but not enough that you felt you had taken on to much.

"Royal one." They rebutted easily, cutting through your thoughts, causing you to flinch.

Iruma's overnight personality change had thrown you all for a loop. Though you had come out of your shock far quicker than anyone else seemed to; you were certain Sullivan was still traumatized. After all, Iruma was a teenager and more than deserved a rebellion or two after the life he had!

You also may or may not have let slip to the janitors that you were worried Iruma wouldn't know Kalego meant all the faculty employed at the school and not just the teachers. Your own personal rebellion against Kalego when he tried to bully you into not helping the misfit class, but that was another story, and therefore another thought that needed burying at the moment.

After all, you had a feline to bargain with right now. Or make that felines, when you barely made out the faint pitter-patters of small feet coming into your room. The resident hellcats making their way in to back up their leader.

Before you could even open your mouth and try, though, Opera successfully managed to wrap you up in a sheet under the comforter so that you couldn't even try to get up. And on top of that, the two resident hellcats have decided to jump up and lay on top of you. You blinked in confusion, you hadn't been that deep in thought, had you? Still, you were determined to try, even if the blankets were so warm and heavy with the hellcats' weight, and you could just make out a light circling pressure on the edges of both sides of your temporal.

You tried to struggle but you barely even wiggled and succeeded only in making one of the hellcats readjust itself with a yawn and close its eyes again. You were close to joining it, but still, you tried to hang on.

"O-per-a," you slurred out slowly before your traitorous body gave in to the persistent demon. Your eyes closed and you knew no more.

**********

You were quite rudely awoken by a quiet knocking sound later.

At first, you weren't even sure you had heard knocking or if it was the hellcats moving on. Still feeling the warmth but lacking a good amount of pressure made you decide it was simply them leaving and curled back up under the blanket. Until the sound returned, rousing you slightly more.

Groggily, you poked your head out of your blanket-made cocoon. You fully expected to have to shield away from the daylight, only to find the room pleasantly dark, curtains drawn shut.

You vaguely remembered Opera coming in and putting you back to sleep; one turn of the head confirmed that it wasn't a dream. A small tray with a kettle, two different-sized glasses, and what appeared to be a note sat on the bedside table. You would bet your life that the kettle and smaller cup were filled with steaming hot

Hell-gray tea (Opera's specialty, for they never seemed to make anything else, though to be fair you wouldn't know what to ask for), and the taller of the two glasses with cold water. They must have closed the curtains as well on their way out. You would have to thank them later for their thoughtfulness, though you still felt this was all quite unnecessary.

You were drawn out of your thoughts once again by a third knocking. Still faint and barely there, though more easily heard now that you were more awake. You were tempted to drink some tea and bury your head, never to be seen again, but the knocker seemed quite persistent. Steadily getting louder and faster with each repetition. So, with a tired sigh and great effort, you heaved yourself out of your comfy bed, only to flinch at the cold floorboards.

'Whoever was at the door better have a good reason for being here,' you thought as you made your way out of your room towards the front door with heavy steps. It surprised you, how slow you were moving. It was as if every muscle in your body had been replaced with lead and were still expected to move.

'Was the front door always this far away?' Perhaps it was a good idea you stayed home. If you were this slow and a student got into some kind of trouble, you would never be fast enough to help them in this condition. And after all, Opera hadn't said you couldn't do paperwork from home.

But first to deal with this intruder.

You swore, as you opened the massive front doors, that if this was some delivery Sullivan ordered for the nth time since you and Iruma came, you were going to tear him-

"Balam-sensei!" you choked out, surprised at the massive demon standing on the other side. This was most definitely not who you were expecting as your bleary eyes did their best to make out his pale skin and white hair from the blinding noon sun. If it wasn't for his recognizable dark clothes and eyes, your blurred vision might not have noticed him at all.

Squinting, you tried to look him in the eyes as best as you could, but the shine of his metal mask reflecting the already bright sun made it hard to look even close to his face, much less that high up it. You ended up settling on staring at his fur collar, watching it sway in the slight breeze. Just high enough to see his face in your preferential vision but low enough for his own body to block a majority of the rays.

To be honest, you did expect a delivery demon or even Kalego to drag you to work as one of the few people the misfit class voluntarily listened to. Not the resident biologist, whose happiness for the two humans' existence in the Netherworld could probably rival Sullivan's. Considering his rather high paranoia of discovery where you and Iruma were concerned, though, maybe this shouldn't have been such a shock.

And, oh, his eyes were crinkling with furrowed brows. At least you thought they were, it was hard to see the white eyebrows against his skin on your best days. Oh no, had he been talking this whole time?

"I'm sorry, what were you saying?" you croaked out, wincing at the way your voice cracked. You had to focus! What if he was here to report a serious issue, and you were just standing there zoning out?

"Ah, I was just saying hello and how I noticed you weren't here today. Opera told the staff you were on the verge of an evil cycle," he started to fidget here, one hand raising to rub at his no longer shaved neck. You blinked, was it just you, or was his hair several inches longer than when you last saw him a few days ago?

"But when Iruma stopped by during lunch, he mentioned that humans just didn't have those." He eyed you questionably as if asking if his information was correct as he continued. You nodded in confirmation; it was true after all.

"We don't," you added verbally to his unasked question, "even if Opera is entirely convinced otherwise." You tilted your head to the side in confusion. You may have been a bit slow today, but "that doesn't explain why you're here, though?" The words slipped out before you could stop them. Never mind, you were slow today.

A matching set of flushed skin appeared on both of your faces, though for different reasons. Yours was for embarrassment for not being able to keep control of your own mouth, his for being called out. It was true, when you later thought about it, he could have simply phoned or even just asked Opera or Sullivan privately. The hand rubbing his neck pulled away before awkwardly pushing his two index fingers together, eyes staring down at them as they pushed against each other repeatedly.

"I... may have gotten a bit anxious that it was something more serious and decidedly human, so others couldn't know. With my classes done for the day, I rushed over after Iruma left, to make sure you were okay."

You felt your heart clench a bit at his words. Seriously, how did this being exist? He was the literal embodiment of a giant teddy bear, and quite honestly, you wanted to give in and squeeze him in a hug. Thankfully, though, your brain hadn't left you behind that much, not yet at least. The longer you stood here though the more certain you were that it would.

"Thank you for rushing over to see me, but I can assure you I'm fine. I'm sorry for worrying you. The only reason I skipped today is that Opera trapped me in bed and lulled me back to sleep." You spoke nonchalantly, despite being slightly irritated at the whole thing. You were determined to get on Opera about this. Even if they were slowly being proven right, it didn't mean you were happy to admit it.

Some clouds flew overhead blocking the sun, leaving you in the blissful shade, almost as if the Netherworld itself could feel your frustration at the feline demon. Sighing in relief for your poor eyes you looked up at Balam properly and froze. Or, perhaps, the clouds had been a warning.

His entire body was tensed up and his eyes were zeroed in on you with such focus you honestly felt a bit like prey, much like the first time you encountered him. It took everything in you to not slam the door and hide in the deepest darkest corner you could find until safety arrived, or the threat left. You mentally shook yourself; this was Balam, he would never hurt you. Even if he could be intense at times, he never meant harm from it, often seeking the opposite result even.

"Ba-"

"You lied." He stated bluntly. Huh?

"I-Wha?" You were so startled by what he said you couldn't even form a sentence. Lied? When? Everything you stated was the truth as far as you knew. Opera had essentially trapped you; they had made it quite clear that you would not be leaving that bed even if they had to tie you down. While they hadn't physically said it, you could just tell that they would.

"You lied," Balam repeated, "Just now."

You shoved yourself off the door-frame you were leaning on (when had you leaned on it in the first place?) and stared indignantly at him. "What part of what I just said was a lie? I would expect you of all demons to understand Opera's strength especially compared to a normal demon much less-"

"Not that part." Balam interrupted, short-circuiting your brain. Not that part? But what other part was there? "When you said you were fine, you were lying," He took a step closer to you, hands reaching out to grasp your shoulders so lightly that if you didn't see them, you wouldn't have known they were there. "Where are you hurt? Was Opera too rough? Do you need medical attention?"

"I'm not injured though?" You blinked incredulously at him. You were certain you were not lying about that. Sure, you may still have a crazy strong headache and you felt dizzy just standing here, and your muscles did still feel like lead. Or maybe concrete the longer you stood here, or was it the other way around? It had been so long since your physic class days and your head was getting fuzzier by the minute. Regardless you were fine. You've experienced far worse things and still worked; this was nothing new.

His head tilted slightly and moved closer to your own. So close, in fact, that you could see that what you once thought were tiny irises were actually pupils, surrounded by incredibly light grey rings that made up his actual irises. To be honest you thought it was very pretty and slightly memorizing, especially in your current non-focusable state. So memorizing in fact that even though you watched them move back and forth across your face as if searching for something, you barely processed it.

"That's good, I believe you" You let out a sigh of relief at that, "however."

However?

Eh?

"Ehhh!? Balam-sensei!" you couldn't help but shout in surprise at suddenly being lifted into his arms. Your legs were thrown over one of his arms and his other arm supported your back easily, even lightly pressing you to lean against his chest. You gripped his tank top right under the fur collar tightly and closed your eyes in both shock and to protect yourself against sudden vertigo that plagued you from the unexpected fast movement. A furious blush spread across your face as you tried to comprehend what exactly was happening.

"Sorry, but you're swaying as if you're about to fall over. Even if you're not physically injured, you're clearly not fine." He apologized while walking into the mansion and shutting the door behind him with one of his feet. "Not to mention your eyes are glazed over and your face has been getting paler and paler since we've started talking. Where's your bedroom? I can't believe Opera left you alone in this state, I can feel the heat radiating from you more than normal and it's upstairs, is it?" Balam continued without stopping for breath even once, barely even acknowledging when you weakly pointed towards the large staircase in the center of the room, still dazed and flustered from your sudden position in his arms. If he was worried about you being pale, that problem had been fixed with the searing hot blush that covered your entire face to your ears and refused to leave.

Ah, you suddenly realized. This must be one of those famous Balam scoldings Iruma warned you about. You buried your face in his chest, silky fur collar tickling the top of your head like the feathers you saw in those ear-cleaning videos back in the human world. Briefly, you wondered if they had the same practices here. (Later you would find out that they did in fact do them and that Opera was trained in it. You obviously did not put this knowledge to use later on. Not at all.)

Pressed against Balam like this you could feel, more than hear him lecture. A low rumble in his body worked in tandem with the strong beat of his heart and gentle steps. Despite his grumblings, he was extremely delicate with you, with barely enough pressure from his arms to keep you in place and slow methodical movements as he made his way upstairs without jostling you. You could feel yourself starting to relax and zone out again as he continued to berate both you and the absent Opera. Who knew being chastised could be so relaxing?

He found your room rather easily, despite your lack of help after your initial point. While it wasn't the only, nor the first, room open on the second floor, it was the only one with both a strong smell of fresh tea and something undeniably you. Entering it almost cautiously, Balam gave it a cursory once over, unable to deny this small piece of instinct in unfamiliar territory while holding precious cargo. Deeming it safe he quickly laid you back in your bed and moved to pull your blankets back over you, fussing to get them just right. Once he deemed it good enough, he kneeled by your side and brushed some loose hair from your face, before settling his hand on your forehead.

Despite the mask covering half his face, you could tell there was a huge frown marring it. You wanted desperately to wipe it away. He had become too precious to you to have anything other than a smile.

"You're so warm," he mumbled, seeming to have stopped his tirade for now. That was nothing new. As a human, you had discovered that both your and Iruma's bodies ran hotter than the average demon's. To the point that you had even been mistaken as a fire-based demon by multiple others, which you had found quite funny considering your affinity for water and ice runes. You even laughingly reminded him of such before dissolving into a fit of coughs, body curling in on its side.

Oh. Oh no. No, you refused to believe it. You weren't sick, you simply must have choked on some air when laughing.

.....

That sounded weak even to your addled brain. Especially since the longer you laid here the more you could feel just how off you were. Seriously how did you not notice? Was the Netherworld so much better that you had forgotten what it felt like to be sick? The resounding yes in your mind was very loud and you chose to ignore it.

Well, you counseled yourself, at least you could tell Opera that they were wrong about the possible evil cycle. It was simply your body betraying you to whatever was infecting it. And oh, you were not looking forward to the simply insane fest that was going to occur when Sullivan found out you were sick. You mournfully resigned yourself to his hysterics already.

When the last cough rattled out of your chest you breathed harshly while unfurling your body again. Bleary eyes focused on the sudden appearance of a glass in front of your face as you recognized a sensation fluttering in circles on your back. You gave the panicked-looking gargoyle in front of you a grateful smile as you carefully leaned up, grasped the drink, and took a sip.

Cold water traveled pleasantly down your throat, spreading its soothingly frosty touch throughout your chest. Once you had your fill you handed back the glass and flumped fully down again. The pressure on your back never lets up once and you take a minute to fully savor the feeling. How long had it been since you enjoyed the touch of another like this?

The longer you laid here, focusing on feeling the ministrations on your back and just trying to breathe, the hazier you could feel your mind becoming again. Almost as if a fog was just rolling through your mind, blowing away any conscious thoughts and leaving only a mess behind. While you heavily disliked not being all there, never truly feeling safe enough to zone out, you much preferred it to the pain of the migraine you had woken up with.

Sullivan's desire for you to have the best of the best meant the fluffy bed you were laying on took away the weighted feeling of your lead filled limbs. Combined with your increasingly hazy mind meant you felt something similar as to floating in space kept grounded only by the feeling of the gargoyle's hand and the itchiness slowly growing in your throat.

You could feel sleep trying to claim you again and you were honestly more than willing to answer its call. Now that you acknowledged you were sick it was easy to want to stay in bed and just sleep through it all. You were well acquainted with what would happen next and had no desire to actually be awake for it. As much as a tiny voice in the back of your head yelled that you should push through it, it was just as it easy to squish it when your brain went all fuzzy.

Until it abruptly stopped as Shichirou pulled away and said something. You didn't even bother trying to understand him and simply whined at the loss of contact, reaching out blindly towards where you thought he was. Briefly you wondered when you closed your eyes but just as quickly threw the thought out. It wasn't needed. What was needed you had decided, making grabby motions at him, was for the contact to continue.

One eye squinting open you found, quite frustratingly, he wasn't even looking at you. Instead he was moving things about on the tray as a sudden vine reached across the wall from your bedroom holding a small container. You watched him screw up the container and shake a small amount into the tea cup. Swirling the cup to mix the powdery mess with the tea Opera had left behind, he eyed it critically before nodding to himself and turning back to you.

Finally you had his attention, making another whining sound and reaching out for him again you ignored the cup and grabbed the outer part of his hand instead. A low chuckling sound hit your ears as his other arm wrapped under your side and gently hauled you up. With the cup now close to your face you couldn't help but wrinkle your nose at the off putting scent rising from it.

"Just drink this darling and I promise you can go back to sleep." You threw him your best (most pitiful) dubious glare before relenting and opening your lips just a bit. The slightly thick liquid that poured into your mouth reminded you of pepto bismal, if pepto tasted like oranges that was. When the cup was drained, he carefully laid you back down again, smoothing your hair out of your face.

"As promised I'll leave you be to sleep," he pushed b back one last stand and started to rise to leave. Leave? Well that certainly wouldn't do. You hand lashed out faster than it had any right to and gripped his again. Eyes widened in surprise as he looked at your combined hands before locking with yours with a question already on his lips.

"Stay?" You asked, a pout already forming on your lips at his possible refusal. "Please? Just till I fall asleep at least." His face softened immediately and nodded his consent.

Tugging his hand closer to you, so that his knuckles were tucked directly under your chin and the length of his arm ran down your body. Legs pulling up so his elbow was just barely locked in between your knees. You never fully realized how tiny you were in comparison before. The length of his forearm alone was the same as your torso's. Logically, in a different situation such a size difference would frighten you. But here and now, curled around something that could easily harm you brought only the feeling of safety.

It was rather easy to drift off to sleep in that position as his other hand came up and started petting your head, rubbing away any potential headaches before they could even start. When you were better again you might regret this (highly unlikely, you were going to treasure this feeling forever) but for now you would fully relax and just drift off.

**********

A shuffling followed by a quiet chuckling-like noise drew you out of your sleep. Groaning you opened your eyes to try to find the source of the disturbance in your sleep yet again. You were facing the wall with your vanity against it and able to, rather blearily, see your room door through it.

Through the mirror, you could see a pair of bright red ear-like horns poking through a crack in your vine-covered door along with a blue scythe-like antenna just underneath it. Opera and Iruma your mind supplied and judging by the pale clawed hand far higher up the door, Sullivan was there too. But that wasn't what caught your mind addled attention.

Just behind you was an incredibly large moving lump sharing your blankets. It was only then that you realized that you were not only laying on something long and hard but that something of the same shape and size was carelessly tossed over your middle as well. Arms. You were being held by someone. That woke you up quite a bit. As your mind frantically raced to remember what happened before you fell back asleep again you felt said arms tighten around you fractionally as a muffled groan came from behind you. A groan that you were quite familiar with, even in its sleepy form.

Balam Shichirou.

Was in your bed.

You were almost positive your head was going to explode from how hard you were blushing. Your hands drew up and covered your face as you fought the squeal demanding to escape your throat. As your memories came back, you vaguely recalled grabbing him and asking him to stay, but you didn't think he would join you in bed too!

As if sensing your plight in his sleep, his large arms drew you further into his embrace, nose nuzzling into your hair in an attempt to soothe you. You didn't want to admit how much it made your body relax to feel it but as the tension left, you could feel sleep calling you again. Resolving not to deal with this when you were still in the throes of whatever sickness had claimed you, you resolutely turned away from the mirror and into the safety of the wall of flesh and feathers behind you.

"愛してる Shichirou...." You whispered as you fell back asleep, nuzzling back up against his warm chest as his arms unconsciously wrapped around you even tighter.

*At a later date *

"Thanks for the book, Balam-sensei!" Iruma said, antenna wagging happily as he held the new book to his chest. Unlike the heavy textbooks the human boy usually got with his classes, he quite enjoyed the picture books he got from the gargoyle teacher.

Said teacher leaned forward and patted Iruma's head, ruffling the blue hair about as he smiled at him.

"It's my pleasure, really. I'm just glad that you enjoy them and that they're so helpful to you." Balam said as he drew his arm back. "How are your studies coming along by the way?"

Iruma's eyes sparkled in pride, "I've gotten far better! I'm getting an average of seventies thanks to everyone's help! You, Kalego-sensei, Mom, Azz-kun, Clara, and everyone else. You've all helped me come so far, and I can't wait to go further!" Iruma clenched one of his fists in determination.

Shichirou looked at the small human boy and felt something akin to parental pride. To a demon ambition was everything, and to see this child who had such a big disadvantage in the Netherworld giving his absolute all to see his goals through, and manage it. It was amazing and reminded him all the time why he found living things so beautiful.

Among other beings. Which reminded him...

"Hey Iruma-kun," Shichirou started, as he unconsciously drew the boy into his lap to pet him some more, "I have another human question if you don't mind?"

Iruma tilted his head in confusion, giving a rather devipup image in his mind, before nodding his head in consent.

"What does 愛してる mean in the human language?"

"....Eh? EHH!?!"

___________

*Fun fact; 愛してる (or ai shiteru in romaji) translates roughly to I love you and is only used when the person is absolutely certain in their romantic feelings for their partner. The meaning is so strong that it's actually very rarely used in real life, even between married partners!

Or at least that's what my studies say ^u^'/ If you're native Japanese please correct me if I'm wrong!

This turned out way longer than I expected it to, which is part of the reason it so long to get out(it was supposed to be out in Nov ಥ ͜ʖಥ). The other is that I actually fell into a stress cold, because of course I did, while in the middle of writing e.e and then life struck. But hey, it's out now!

Also I may or may not make Kalego and Opera versions of this

#mairimashita manga #mairuma #mairimashita! iruma kun #mairimashita iruma kun #opera mairuma #welcome to demon school! iruma kun #welcome to demon school iruma kun #welcome to demon school #balam shichiro #balam sicirue #balam sensei #balam shichirou #balam #balam shichiro x reader #balam shichiro/reader #balam sicirue x reader #balam x reader

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