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#dawn is currently crying

dingdawny · 1 year

Note

HI DAWNY!! hru! idk if you're taking requests, but in case you are, could you draw the gays?? (ivoren) OR SOREN either one is perfect!! soren is so edible in your style!!/nfta :DD /no rush

ALSO COSMO SAYS HI!!

The old gays ever!

#my art #mcsm #mcsm fanart #minecraft story mode #they're real!!#mcsm ivor #mcsm soren #ALSO HI COSMO #TELL COSMO I SAY HI PLEASE!!#currently re reading aiden's memoir #crying #please talk to me about aiden's memoir guys I'm so normal about it I swear I promise pl #oh my god ok dawn this is an ivoren post not an aiden's memoir post #ivoren #I think it'd be funny if their ship name was sorevor #IT'S SO SILLY

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marhgrao · 2 years

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“Aloy hunting”

Another update on this piece :) still rendering the bg… which has made me cry out of desperation several times, still I’m quite proud of how it’s turning out :,)

If anyone has any suggestions as to what i may add to the bg to make it more horizon-ish they are more than welcome!! I’m thinking of adding a few leggies of a horus

#aloy #horizon forbidden west #horizon zero dawn #aloy fanart #aloy of the nora #art #digital art #aloy hfw #aloy horizon #beyond the horizon #fanart #artists on tumblr #video games #background #current wip #im crying #gaia gang #she has my heart

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inafieldofdaisies · 5 days

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Will you raise me gold? I raise you sapphire Will you raise me heaven? Ha, I raise you hell You give me sunset I give you a fucking eclipse

#this feels like such a highwaymen song <3 #wip: after the collapse #far cry new dawn #fcnd #chinchilla #music recommendation #currently listening to #favorite songs #song lyrics #Spotify

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onlyswan · 10 months

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summary: in which jungkook’s new lip piercing makes you want to cry, and he can’t live without you.

> established relationship, fluff / word count: 1.4k

> warnings: mention of or*l (f. receiving)

> in which masterlist!

note: heh surprise :D my impulsive, jungkook lover brain couldn’t resist so here’s a little something 🥲

—

“why are you looking at me like that?” jungkook nervously asks as the excited beam lighting him up gradually fades. “do you not like it?”

you remain speechless with an unreadable expression written on your face. dumbly staring at the lower right corner of his lips, it is adorned with yet another piercing that makes your boyfriend appear more enchantingly attractive in your eyes — which are, by the way, currently blurry and dazed. your brain is still fuzzy around the edges, short circuiting the longer you observe the silver stud.

it infuriates you, almost, how he still manages to effortlessly drive you crazier for him five years later.

it’s extremely rare for you to fall asleep before 10pm, and to be frank, you hate him for waking you up because you know you won’t be able to go back to sleep until 3am no matter how tired you are. and you’re still not quite certain if you’ve already registered that your consciousness has been rudely pulled back into reality; because then again, you’ve always been obsessed with his lip ring, maybe unhealthily so, and it wouldn’t be a stretch to assume that you’d dream of him surprising you with a new piercing just beside it.

however, there is a particular reason that holds you back from strongly wishing for that to come true.

“but you loved the ring, even the eyebrow ones… did i pick an ugly placement this time?” he wonders out loud with a frown, confused that his surprise didn’t receive the type of reaction he expected.

when he tries hard enough, he can picture them vivid enough to draw from memory… your eyes glittering with awe and adoration each time he presented himself with a new piercing or tattoo. you, showering him with love and praises that erased every ounce of anxiety he had about his life-altering decisions that usually came in the aftermath. what others would call impulsiveness, you named his fearless self-expression.

“ow- ouch- baby! what the hell? what was that for?”

with doe eyes struck by headlights, he gapes at you in surprise as he rubs his poor shoulder that was slapped without warning.

“why did you get it there? we’re not allowed to make out again until it’s healed!” you pettily complain with a drawn-out whine, knees bumping against his thighs as you bounce your crossed legs in bitter vexation.

“oh, shit.”

in real time, you witness the realization comically dawn on jungkook’s face, flabbergasted that in the thick haze of his excitement, he forgot about this excruciating restriction during the extended healing process. in his defense, it’s been forever since he got his first lip piercing.

oh, he’s in so much trouble.

he stares back at you, frozen and unblinking as he slowly speaks with a guilty wince. “ahh, you’re right… i must be out of my mind… i can’t eat you out, too… fuck, how did i survive this back then?”

the genuine innocence lacing his voice only fuels your urge to curl into a ball and cry in frustration. yearning for his touch while he’s not physically present is one thing, but this is much, much worse.

“stop talking.” you glare at him, angry eyebrows contrasting the puffiness of your face caused by sleep.

“you’re so adorable.” the endearing sight elicits a breathy chuckle from him, followed by a small whimper triggered by the pain that spreads on the lower part of his face immediately after. he brushes it off without care, muttering quietly- “come here.”

he carefully guides you to sit on his lap, sinking further into the soft mattress with your weight added on top of him. and for tonight, you allow him to manhandle you as he likes, not having the energy to jokingly pretend to argue with him. you wrap your arms around his neck to pull yourself closer to him, only realizing how much you’ve missed him now that you’re skin-to-skin.

“don’t be upset, baby. i’m sorry.” he sweetly coaxes you into a better mood. “i will make it up to you after. i promise. i always do, right?”

with drowsy eyes still trained on the new jewelry that shines from the light of the night lamp, you sniffle and pout at him.

“and we can still do this, remember?”

the world becomes still and quiet, and the oxygen gets trapped in your lungs when jungkook holds your face in between his warm hands, crossing the short distance between you. your eyelids slowly flutter shut, lashes kissing your cheeks as his lips softly brush against yours. languid and tender, slightly sticky from your sleeping mask that smells like candy. he ends the blissful moment too soon with a gentle pucker of his lips, leaving you with a simple peck that will haunt your mind for the weeks to come, as if you’re a teenager who just had their first kiss in the middle of the dance floor.

“hmm, see, baby? not bad?” he says quietly, pads of his thumbs tenderly stroking the apple of your cheeks.

jungkook is too persuasive for his own good. the memories of you suffering last time are clouded with the new sweet memory he just orchestrated, and you’re almost convinced that it truly might not be that bad after all.

“but we need to be veeery careful like that for now, understand? so it’ll stop hurting and heal fast.”

and just like that, you’re a little more awake.

“does it hurt a lot? did you bleed a lot?”

hearing him say that he’s in pain made you worriedly react within a split second. his heart melts, and then breaks into two as he gathers all the self-control in his body not to pepper your face with kisses like he usually does.

“the piercer was good and quick, i didn’t feel a thing. but i’m definitely feeling something now.” he shakes his head, uttering the last sentence humorously.

“of course, it hurts now. you won’t stop moving… let me see.” you scold him with a roll of your eyes, slightly turning his head by the back of his ear to have a better view of the swollen flesh around the piercing.

“how is it doing?” he inquires after a few beats, curious and impatient with your silence.

and that’s when he sees that look on your face, the glittering eyes he was anticipating to meet since he finished his appointment the morning before. you grin from ear to ear, scrunching your nose cutely before giggles bubble from your chest. sheepish with your transparent delight, you hide your face in the crook of his neck, tickling him with your every exhale.

“my boyfriend is so cool, and so handsome. i’m so lucky and proud.”

that’s him. that could only be him.

jungkook, despite being elated by the compliments, can only muster a small shy smile. he carresses your hair lovingly, securing his tattooed arm around you as you threaten to slip off from his lap.

“really?”

“hm, i like it. so much…” you hum, planting a chaste kiss to the sensitive spot on his neck. “you’re always putting me through this, making me want to kiss you more all the time. this is so unfair.”

“baby, please. behave for me?” he mutters, squeezing his eyes shut as if he’s in unmaginable pain. in his dramatic mind, currently flooded with love chemicals, he is. “if you keep talking like that, i will really end up risking an infection.”

you lift up your head to show him a grimace of disgust. “ew, pull it together. i wouldn’t want to kiss you with that.”

“tsk, you’re such a brat.” he calls you out with a pointed look, lightly smacking your thigh, revealed by your shorts that has further ridden up, before kneading the soft flesh under his large palm to soothe it.

you teasingly stick out your tongue in response, breaking out into laughter. and not so subtly, you squeeze your thighs together, grasping his wrist in a futile attempt to control the frenzied butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“have you cleaned it?”

“not yet.”

“then let’s do it. i’ll help you.” you climb off his lap as you eagerly tug at his arm, planting your feet firmly on the ground. “love, hurry- hurry. i want to see it in better lighting.”

exhausted after an eventful day, jungkook limply flops down, occupying the side of the bed that you’ve kindly warmed up. “you can go ahead. i’ll follow you after five minutes.”

“ugh, no, you won’t. you’ll fall asleep if you keep your eyes closed for another thirty seconds, and then i’ll have to wake you up.”

he pops one eye open, and then another, meeting your affectionate gaze with a silly grin because damn, you know him so well.

“i love you… don’t ever leave me. i think i’d seriously die without you.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut

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chaepink · 6 months

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DAY 5: HEAT IT UP! | TEMPERATURE PLAY

gojo loves being a brat and by the amount of times he has been one, he's gotten use to your punishments. so you decided to try something new on him.

⋆ ࣪. ❤︎ PAIRING ⸻ gojo satoru x reader

⋆ ࣪. ❤︎ WARNINGS ⸻ dom!reader, temperature play, ice play, edging, brat taming, punishment, crying, bondage, mommy kink, blindfolding

⋆ ࣪. ❤︎ WORDS ⸻ 1.2k words

KINKTOBER EVENT

You always knew your boyfriend was just so pretty. With his breathtaking blue eyes that you love to see tears fall from, to his luscious hair that you love to pull on, it's common knowledge that he's attractive.

But at this current moment, you like to think that he looks even more pretty: wrists tied to the headboard, a blindfold covering his eyes, head tilted back to reveal his neck, and legs spread to expose his hard dick.

You grin at his figure and coo at him. "I've barely touched you yet and yet you're shaking, baby." Sitting in between his legs, you let your hands roam up and down his legs, earning a shiver from the man.

You see his adam's apple bob and your hands pause on his thighs, mere inches away from his hardened dick. You're teasing him, he knows it.

Though you know that it's not enough to break his bratty demeanor yet.

Gojo grins at you. "What? You think im shaking cause of just this?" His tone is laced with cockiness to rile you up. "What are you going to do next, spank me mommy?"

A sly smile makes its way onto your face. "That sounds enticing but not today. Though I would shut my mouth if i were you, gojo." Before he could retort back, your hand ghosts over one of his nipples, immediately feeling it get stiff. Your action has him biting his lips to keep his noises in and you quickly put the nipple in your mouth, your tongue swirling around it before biting it. Gojo has always been a sucker for when you touch his sensitive nipples and you know it's a quick way to break his bratty demeanor.

Though you have another way to do so as your other hand reaches to grab a ice cube that you've placed in a bowl on the nearby nightstand.

"ah! s-shit is that are you can do?"

You chuckle. "Of course not, gojo." You immediately put the ice cube on his other nipple and oh do you love the reaction it emits from him. As the coldness touches his sensitive nipples, you watch his mouth open into a 'o' and his breath quicken. A drawn out whimper leaves him and his back arches, almost as if he wants the ice cube to press against his body even more.

"o-oh god!"

The contrasts of your warm mouth and the coldness of the ice has his head spinning. While the blindfold on him prevents him from already seeing anything, it heightens his other senses, making him extremely sensitive to your touch. Is this what you meant when you said you wanted to try something new?

The ice cube circles around the nipple as his other gets bitten, sucked, and licked. Little 'ah!'s and gasps leave him and when the ice cube begins to trail down his chest and melt, he sucks in his breath.

You finally pull back from his chest and lean in to whisper in his ear as the ice continues to move downwards to his stomach and finally his inner thigh where you hear him let out a whine.

"Where do you want the ice, gojo? Tell me." Ragged breaths escape from him. Your tone is innocent but he knows you're far from it. He knows that you know where he wants it but you want him say it himself. You want him to beg for it.

"mommy please!" You tsk, shaking your head.

"darling," you coo, "you know what i want to hear, dont you?" Gojo nods.

"put... put the ice on my dick? please?" You chuckle.

Without warning you put the ice cube directly on his tip and watch as it melts, the cold water dripping down to his base. He begins thrashing in your hold and throws his head back, curse words flooding out his mouth.

"fuck!"

You glance at his face and widen your eyes when you see his blindfold begin to darken and sniffles fill the room. But realization dawns on you. He's crying.

"are you really crying, gojo? just from some ice on your dick?" Gojo pouts at where he heard your voice from. "s-shut up! 'm not..."

You drag the ice down his dick and watch as it melts and mixes with his pre cum. "mhm, right." You feel him try to subtly grind against the ice.

Gojo's breath quickens at the unusual sensation but as it continues, the feeling quickly becomes addicting. It's not long till the ice melts all the way and he's begging for more.

You can only chuckle at his eagerness. "This is supposed to be a punishment, gojo. And yet you're enjoying it." Gojo shakes his head as if his thighs aren't shaking, dick isn't leaking pre cum, and moans haven't been leaving his mouth.

"Don't lie. You really are such a whore, aren't you?"

Gojo swallows but still shakes his head, making you let out a disappointing sigh. "Still acting like a brat?" You take another ice cube from the bowl and drag the cube from the bottom of his dick to the top, making Gojo let out a girlish squeal.

A hand on his thigh keeps him from trying to close his legs and the rope tying his hands to the headboard keep him from touching you. Though of course he could escape if he wanted to but his head is too mushy right now to even remember just how strong he is.

His loud noises are music to your ears. And you have a idea to have more leave his mouth.

You lean down and drag your tongue drags along the length of his dick, tasting the bitterness of his pre-cum and the coldness of the ice. The feeling of your warm tongue and the cold ice hits him like a train.

Gojo's reaction is immediate. His back arches as his a loud moan rips from his throat and you're surprised when cum shoots from his dick to make a mess on his chest. You immediately pull back a little with widened eyes as Gojo's chest rises up and down. Did Gojo just cum from just that?

After calming down from his orgasm, Gojo realizes how quiet you are and lets out a whimper. "I-I didn't mean to cum, I swear!" You see the blindfold covering his eyes start to damp again.

A cold feeling on your fingers makes you realize that you still have ice in your hand. You quickly see that some of Gojo's cum made it on the ice and with a small grin on your face, you lean towards him.

"It's okay, baby. Can you open wide for me?" He quickly does what you say and opens his mouth, tongue sticking out in anticipation of what you're gonna do. When you place the soiled ice cube on his tongue, his mouth immediately envelops it and he moans when he tastes himself on it.

However when your hand suddenly wraps around his dick, Gojo gasps in surprise and whines when he feels you start to play with it, his dick immediately hardening again.

"Did you forget that you're being punished, Gojo?" You tsk at him. "Don't think we're over yet." And Gojo whimpers at that.

note : this was kinda rushed, i just wanted to finish this as quick as possible since it's super late </3

🏷️: @Vealize21 @fabitheraven @sourissue @jksstuffposts @gallantys @tired-of-life-86 @ineedsleeporilldie @aphoneixnamed-angel @flawlessvictorymentality @wowonamo @euphiroo @saintravey @tomiokx @archer-fb @d1gitalbathh @Lifesucksweswallow @rxflen @aspengagrimlin @ilovemenwhowhimperandbeg @deffnotstarguys @laraleafs @lamees004 @literary-latte @cl-0-vr @qweenjx @katebaku7710 @yenakwyl @katsuslover @mysicklove @fairyvibez @someonepleasesedateme @arminsesposa

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peachesofteal · 3 months

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Prologue: The Moirai

An Ichor Veil (of Flower Kings) masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 1.5k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: modern setting retelling of Hades and Persephone A strange dream, a strange visit.

For months, you’ve had the same dream.

You’re wandering a valley, your valley, a lush, green collection of rolling peaks, sweet grass and clover nearly velvet beneath your bare feet. The sun, high in the sky, does not moisten your brow, or cause you distress. You do not thirst. You do not tire.

You only meander, feeding the earth snippets of power, growing flowers and vines, a plethora of life, amusing yourself, as you do every night.

You roam this meadow, until your eyes open at dawn, bullfrogs and crickets and the raw chirp of birds tapping against the windowpane, brightening you to the morning better than any alarm clock ever could.

But tonight, the dream is different.

You’ve never seen so much Narcissus. It paints an idyllic picture, bright petals sparkling far and wide, blanketing the hills until they swoop low in the soft belly of the dream. They draw you in, pulling you down until you’re seated amongst a mass of blooms, Asphodelus scattered throughout, honeysuckle vine curling through the grasses, more fragrant than sea spray, filling the air with an intoxicating sweetness that you can taste, crystal like dew dripping with jasmine and vanilla.

It's beautiful.

A creek babbles nearby, crooning in its own language, rushing trickle drowning out your thoughts and feelings, twisting and tugging until it’s hard to remember you’re in a dream at all.

Is this not your meadow?

Is this not your own?

The Asphodelus shivers, rocking back and forth in a cool wind, the kind that chills your skin, whips around your shoulders and tousles the thin fabric of your shirt.

“Hello.” The greeting startles you, twists your torso in the waist deep flora. Rise. Instinct booms, like your mother’s chide ringing a shrill bell for you to obey.

A figure stands in the meadow behind you, tall beside the sun, rays of golden light casting long shadow across their features. You squint, but it’s of no use. You cannot make them out.

“Hello.” You mirror, palms forward, heels digging into the grass. There’s a sharp prick, a sting that bleeds, and you curse, lifting your hand for inspection. “Acantha.” You hiss at the goddess, as if she has anything to do with your dreams.

Gold runs from the wound like the creek, slicking your palm, coating your skin in ichor, your own lifeblood.

The lifeblood of the Golden ones.

Lest you forget.

The figure kneels in the grass before you, their head bowed, black gloved hands reaching, tugging your palm upwards, dragging a thumb through the mess of ethereal life.

“I’m fine, just a prick.” You assure in the silence. There is so much light, and yet none, nothing to illuminate the face or the features of whomever it is that occupies your dream.

A fragment of your mind, perhaps. A trick of your mother’s.

Or an interloper.

“You’re hurt.” The dark pitch of the figure’s voice is startling. It’s fathomless, beautiful like the coast of the Aegean, guttural like the shout of death. Raw ruby, not quite plucked from its sanctuary, not quite finished or ready to be seen, a secret gem, only for you. The meadow rustles, thousands of faces in the little flowers leering, scowling, blue sky dimming into grey. Thunder shatters the tranquility, clapping in the distance, a garish boom sending electric shocks through the clouds, all manner of rumbles rolling over the hill.

Rot. It fills your soul in a flood, current wrapping around your ankles and tugging, like a thousand Oceanids lay at your feet, crying. Screaming.

But your hand is warm. Your hand is warm and it is held, for a moment, a moment in which you feel dramatically unlike yourself, unlike the fledging goddess you claim to be, unlike the unloved one you’re known as, and then-

it is cold. Your hand. Your heart. You. The being, the figure, is gone.

And you are alone.

The Greenhouse is quiet. An easy peace, so easily disturbed by comings and goings, friends and patrons, all manner of beings and others, stopping in and out.

They say hello. They ask for help, advice, favor. Some things you cannot give, even to some visitors who you hold close. Dearly.

These moments alone, moments of solitude in the Greenhouse, and some that you love the most. Moments when you're alone with yourself, your power, your connection to the earth. When you can feel it the most, the worms in the dirt, the roots desperate for water, the blooms aching to flourish. You are all these things, when you're alone. A power unto yourself. A goddess of life, of fertility, of Spring. The essential reawakening. The circle of seasons.

The secret weighs heavily.

But a goddess of Spring, is no mere goddess of Spring, your mother's voice echoes. A goddess of life, may as well wear a target on her back.

This morning, when the dew still refracts the light of the sun and birds are singing, no one comes. You sit alone, pruning, detangling, taming a pothos, encouraging its lovely green vine to live on its own. It protests, and you huff at it, conjuring slivers of magic, feeding it kernels as if you care for a child, trying to encourage it to eat.

“You must try, you know.” It curls around the back of your hand, lovely silver-white speckled leaves shimmering in the morning’s light. “You’re not staying here. The Greenhouse is full. I don’t have any more room.” The overcrowded shelves and carts agree, saplings and ivy and atropa belladonna all singing in unison, quivering voices rising in protest of the pothos’ weak effort. “See? You’ll make everyone unhappy.”

“You have a habit of talking to all your plants?” A musical voice chimes from the front door, and you jump from the stool, a book on your right clattering to the concrete.

“No, I…” Your voice fails, the woman in the doorway steps closer, allowing her mortal appearance to fall away, removing her Cloak and revealing her true identity.

The Moirai.

The Three who are One.

She turns her head to the east, a flash of the Maiden surveying your workbench, and then the Crone shines through, all faces eventually melding into one.

The Mother.

“Daughter of Demeter.” She inclines her head in greeting, and you blink rapidly.

“You...” What are they… is she, doing here? “You shouldn’t be here.” You swallow the fear that races in a cold rush under your skin. A frozen river runs in your bones, frigid rapids roaring, trapped beneath a thin sheet of ice, churning your power into a weapon of terror, an uncontrollable force that tries to build beneath the swell.

“Your mother is preoccupied.” She waves her hand; unease props the hair up on the back of your neck.

“What do you want?”

“To see you.” She strolls, careful, casual steps echoing off glass. “Finally, in the flesh.” The sh sound hisses, and your power pulses, pushing forward in preparation. “You are truly as lovely as they say, little Spring Goddess.”

“I’m not the Goddess of Spring.” You rebuke, and the resounding chuckle is dry wine, a tatter of bubbles that on her tongue that sours your stomach.

“You are not.” She nods. “No. You’re so much more now. You will be.” She steps closer, red lips perfectly lined and plump, pursed as she stares you down. “I’m satisfied.” She murmurs, and even though she looks right at you, it’s as if you’re not in the room.

Rain drops patter on glass panels.

“Pity.” She frowns, and then winks as a young woman, as an old one too, vanishing from sight with each step she takes to the door.

The clock ticks too loudly, and it feels like doom. Like a shattered mirror, shattered reflection, shattered life.

The Moirai have never visited you.

Why now?

Outside, a screech owl hoots, startling you backwards, a hand rocking down to the work bench in an effort to steady your trembling legs.

“Ouch!” you shriek, flipping your palm over, a pair of pruning shears dug into your skin, golden blood leaking out around their cool metallic points. “Fuck.” Your lips cover the puncture, tongue flicking against the rivulet of ichor.

The screech owl screams.

The throne room is silent. Darkness ebbs, inky webs slithering across the floor, shadowing the blood red stone that spills from the mouth of the dais, two identical, straight back chairs sitting proudly in the middle of the hall, dwarfed by columns stretching so tall Johnny swears they surpass the boundary of this realm. Their onyx marble shrouds Simon, who stands maskless, his hands clasped behind his back, peering into the pitch-black pool of liquid vibrating inside a silver bowl.

“Who is she?” There is a woman in the seeing glass. Beautiful, bright, an overflowing bouquet of narcissus, an endless melody of spring, the promise of early death. The greenhouse breathes in her presence, all nature of blooms and blossoms straining closer, desperate to be within fingertips reach. “A goddess?” He looks closer, and Simon’s amber laden eyes affix his, broad palm tenderly cupping Johnny’s cheek. His answer is a whisper, something unearthly and severe as they are: two Kings of the Underworld, two souls twisted together, two macabre fates made one. His words are a looming promise, a vow so ruinous Johnny knows the Moirai howl and the Lethe trembles.

“Our wife.”

#peaches writes #AIV(OFK)#ghoap x reader #hades ghoap #persephone reader #soap x ghost x reader #ghost x soap x reader #Simon Riley #john soap mactavish

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lunargrapejuice · 8 months

Note

Hi can I request a scinerio for Diluc, Childe, and Xaio where they find our that your pregnant with their kid/kids? Tysm if u do this ♥️

diluc, childe + xiao when you tell them you're pregnant

heart warming fluff | 'girlie' and 'wife' used in childes but other than that no specifc pronouns used

diluc

you swore you were glowing with the evidence of your little secret the entire way from the clinic in the city back to dawn winery. as if the baby in your womb was alight with sparkling flames that shown on your skin and in your smile despite how much you tried to hold it in but it was near impossible to do with the overflowing joy you felt at the surreal news of your pregnancy.

you were relieved that no one had stopped you on your walk home, an eager bounce to your step that the nausea you’d been feeling for a few days now couldn’t stop. not when your husband was at home unsuspecting of the news you could not wait to share with him. no one but you and babraba, who had confirmed you were indeed pregnant, knew for now and you wanted it to stay that way until you could tell diluc.

the entire walk home your heart was thumping loudly, in time with your giggle and smiles and the butterflies in your stomach tickled you the more it sank in that you were going to have a baby with the man you love, that your family would be growing with a sweet bundle of your love. thoughts of diluc as a father only made those feelings grow tenfold, seeing your baby in his arms, laying on his broad chest, tugging at his crimson hair and cooing at him as he smiles so tenderly.

archons you were going to cry just imagining it.

but you had to hold on just a little longer. only a few more steps and you’d be in the manor where diluc surely was lost in his work or helping with an issue and you could steal him away to tell him and cry your tears of elation against his lapel. it wasn’t even worth blaming the hormones for them either, not when you’re certain you’d have spilled some regardless. to love diluc and be loved by him had been the most wonderful thing in your life and now, to share that love with your child, felt like you were swimming in a never ending sea that was the full embodiment of love, devotion and the pureset of warmth.

you’re pulled deeper into that sea as you walk into the study, the place your feet brought you when the parlor did not turn up your beloved. there he was tucked behind his desk, reviewing a stack of paperwork that seemed to never get smaller, fiery red locks pulled back to keep them from his handsome face.

with your thoughts getting the better of you again, curious ones that made you wonder how much your baby was sure to look like their father, you stop in your tracks at the threshold of the door, taking him in, your hand reaching for your belly and tugging lightly at the fabric of your shirt.

as if he had been expecting you, he looks up from the contract laid out on his desk and you see his lips previously drawn in a thin line tugging upwards at the sight of you. you had only been gone an hour or so, under the guise of running ‘errands’ in the city but be it an hour or ten minutes away from you, he would always be happy when either of you returned to the other.

“welcome home my love,” he says, attempting to get up from his seat to meet you halfway but you’re quick to make your way to his side, all but floating to him in your current state, his gloveless hand reaching out to hold your waist as you find your place between his legs, his other now holding your hand.

with a tender touch, the pads of your fingers brushing across his bangs, feeling the natural heat of his forehead seeping into your skin and making you want more of him, all of him. you see his eyes flutter as he leans into your touch, thick lashes hiding scarlet eyes that hold your entire world when he didn’t yet know you were now carrying a whole new part of his.

you hadn’t said anything since you came into the study, the words on the tip of your tongue and making you giggle in undiluted happiness. from his place below you he looks up at you, an eyebrow raising in question but how much he loved to hear you laugh, let it fill the place he occupied and consume it with your light, was evident in his soft expression and he didn’t want it to stop. he only wanted to share in your rapture and as the words left your lips, he felt himself burst with emotion that any words of elation could not hope to describe.

“i’m pregnant,” you said with a blush on your cheeks and a lovely wide smile on your lips. the words and their meaning settle in his heart, kindling his flames and bringing forth pooling tears that made his rose colored eyes sparkle in the afternoon sunlight coming from the window.

“you’re pregnant,” he repeats breathlessly, almost unable to form the words as his grip on you tightens. he can’t break his eyes from yours, not even when a few of his tears escape and make their way down his cheek, caught on your fingers and captured by your love.

many things were brewing in the back of his mind, from the list of what would need to be baby proofed in the manor to if he truly would be a good father, much like his own. but as he looks into your eyes, swearing he feels the little flame burning brightly inside of you, he makes a vow, burns it into his heart and soul, to do everything in his power to protect you both, love you both and give you all he is.

your hearts were in sync as they skipped multiple beats. tears of your own flowing down your cheeks and over the curve of the smile you could not force down even if you tried. your sweet laugh, the aftermath of emotions that bubbled out of you and only knowing to express themselves this way in your bliss, drawing more and more tears from your beloved as you answered him even knowing what he said wasn’t a question.

“i am,” you say softly, your hand on his and on his cheek flexing against him.

diluc pulls you as close as possible, with all the gentleness he could muster, at the edge of his seat with his face buried under your chest near your belly, warm crystalline tears wetting your shirt as his hands bunch up the back of it in his grip that said he would never, ever, be letting you go.

childe

damn him for having to go on a work trip.

there was no one you wanted to share good news with more than ajax and, as always, you could hardly stand the wait until his return. it has been 3 weeks since he’s been gone and it would be a few more days still until he’d return when you learned of the reason for your sickness in the weeks since he left home, that you were pregnant with his baby.

you hadn’t stopped smiling since finding out, skillfully avoiding his family when you felt like it was written all over your radiating aura so that he could be the first person you told. aside from your morning sickness the days leading up to his arrival home, it had felt so unreal and looking down to see your not yet showing belly but knowing what growing in your womb made you burst into a smile that hurt your cheeks.

by the time the day actually came for his ship to be arriving back in snezhnaya you were beyond eager to get the words out, to see his cute face and finally let it feel so very real when you shared in this blissfulness together. your impatience showed in the way you quickly dressed and made your way to the docks, rocking back and forth on your feet while you waited to see the huge ship in the distance. it was cold but thankfully not snowing and your movements helped to keep you warm along with the scarf he had gifted you long before your marriage and the thick coat you wore.

when you finally saw the vessel carrying your beloved back to you, you swore you could cry. for days now you had dreamed of ajax and your baby, how deeply he would love them, how spoiled they would undoubtedly be, how he would likely ask for another not longer after you have this one and the thought of having more children with him made your chest burst with heat. your family would be so loved, just as you are, and you felt so lucky to be apart of such a deep bond.

“i’m sure you’ll be the best older sibling,” you whisper down to your stomach with a smile before hearing the welcomes of your husband's siblings and parents also coming to see him home.

it would be easy to pass of your joy off as your husband returning and nothing else, so many times you had met them at the docks like today and it had helped to pass the time playing with tonia, teucer, and anthon but the closer the ship got, the more you could only focus on the distance it closed and the words you had been holding in for days that sat at the back of your throat like a truth that felt too good to be true.

oh but it was and the moment you saw him, his ginger hair standing out from the rest, at the edge of the ship looking over for you and his family, you couldn’t hold them back any longer.

“ajax!” you called loudly and so easily he heard your voice.

“baby!” he returns in kind.

you giggle at the sweet name you had missed hearing in his voice for these weeks before cupping your hands around your mouth, wanting to be sure he hears what you have to say because by the tsaritsa good graces you couldn’t stop them from coming out even if you wanted to.

“i’m pregnant!” you say as loudly as you can, your cheeks aching from the smile that accompanies your words.

you hear his family’s celebrations in the background of your attention on your beloved but can’t make out what they’re saying when all you can focus on is him. the way you swear even from this distance you can see his eyes light up with stars, feel his joy and how greedy he is to get to you.

and archons you swore you hated him just a bit when he jumped from the ship before it even docked, landing skillfully on the sturdy planks and not wasting a moment before he breaks out in full speed towards you. you don’t even have a chance to scold him for being so careless, tease him for scaring his pregnant wife even when you knew he had done much worse than just jumping off of a slowly moving ship, before you catch a flash off his smile milliseconds before being scooped up in strong arms and lifted off the ground.

you aren’t sure how he did it, lifting you so high that your stomach was pressed right against his cheek but your feet were far from the ground and yet, you felt safe and steady in his arms. shamelessly he nuzzled his face into you middle softly, kissing over your thick jacket and bringing to life the butterflies in your core.

in a fit of giggles and ‘put me down’s, meddled with his confessions of happiness, the reality of your pregnancy, proof of your undying love for one another and the how were now going to get to share it with a little dew drops growing in your belly, falling even more in love with him as you do you have no doubt, it finally starts to feel so very real.

real enough that by the time he puts you down, setting you on the ground but not letting you go, not even when he knows you're planted down safely, you’re in a full blown sob. warm happy tears cooling against your cheek only moments after escaping your lashes, the frozen air nipping at your dripping nose.

you bury yourself in his giant coat, holding onto him as if your life depended on it, your face hiding in his chest, feeling his chuckle that vibrates there. your emotions and hormones were getting the better of you but with childe finally home, you couldn’t hold them back, didn’t want to.

“it’s okay girlie,” he whispers into your hair, smiling so pure against your scalp, holding you against him with one hand behind your head and the other at your back, keeping you pressed close. how was he to ever let you go now? “you two must have missed me a lot,” he teases, feeling himself nearly choking on his own happiness as he says the words.

“we did,” you admit, your words muffled but his coat and your tears, smiling at the truth of you two- you and your baby, and how it sounded coming from his voice.

xiao

in reality you probably should have known how worried xiao would be when you left a note on your shared bed stating you were running to bubu pharmacy and would be back in a bit without further explanation. in your defense, as usual in the early mornings, he had left to continue his duty of protecting liyue and writing down the full reason for your visit to the pharmacy would have been worse you think.

you didn’t want to worry him about you being pregnant just in case you weren’t, and telling him over a note was far from ideal for you either, even though after days of symptoms you were pretty sure you were. you just wanted doctor baizhus confirmation before telling your husband and almost as soon as you stepped into bubu pharmacy, changsheng had told you exactly what you thought.

the way it made your heart stutter, your body filling with mirth, left you speechless near the entrance to the pharmacy and unable to do anything but stare down at your stomach. it was then you saw qiqis hand, pulling at the hem of your shirt to grab your attention, fresh violet grass in her hand extended out to you, something she often did since you fell in love with xiao.

you left in hurry, flower in your hand, each step you took the smile you wore continuing to pulling at your cheeks until you were radiating an ethereal glimmer and practically skipping on your way out the city until you were stopped in your tracks by the very man you were headed to find with concern swirling in his golden eyes, arms crossed over his chest, his lips in a deep frown.

the surprise on your face worried him further, setting his eyebrows to knit and his body to draw closer to yours until you were within his reach but you could only smile at the love you knew was behind it; love that he had shared with only you in all of his immortal life but that he would now get to share another one of a kind love with another, someone so little and precious, half of you both and just like you, so very lucky to be cherished by the vigilant yaksha.

“what's wrong?”

you reach for him, touching his taut brow and feeling it relax under the soft pads of your fingertips. “nothing’s wrong, i promise,” you assure him sweetly, taking a step closer, your chests now pressed together. you wrap your arms around his neck, feeling tiredness take over in his embrace, the smell of violet grass and almond filling your scenes. “take me home please?”

of course all you needed to do was call his name and he would take you wherever you wished. when his arms wrap around you, gentle and yet firm in his hold, you feel the atmosphere of the bustling city wash away in a smoke of black and green and the quietness of your home begging to blanket you in comfort. it makes your mind wander with thoughts of how comfortable and safe your little one would be here. fills you with day dreams of xiao helping them take their first steps, soothing them when they cry, loving them so deeply; a bond you know will last eternity and then some.

“i do have something to tell you though,” you coo happily and lean against him more, not moving from where he had teleported in your house.

his hands on you tighten, pulling you far enough away so that he can examine you but still keep you close enough to feel you. in his attentive gaze he does notice a flicker of difference in you, something he has never seen on you before and even though it felt.. strange, it’s warm, light, like an ease of debt at the sight of golden rays of the sun peaking through clouds among the highest mountains after it rains.

“i’m pregnant,” you confess with a blissful smile that he swears could bring him to tears when it came paired with those words.

human emotion had always been a bit foreign to xiao and the emotion of love was certainly no exception but he had come to feel it for himself, accept it even when it worried him, even when he did not feel worthy of it. and you.. you had always loved him, saw the good in him, showed him gentleness and the meaning of family in a way he had not known before but that was familiar of so many years past, a family that was growing still and the realization fills him with elation beyond words.

a rare tender smile graces his lips but he still let slip his worry of the promise to always be beside you being broken, the promise he took as seriously as his job protecting liyue and would spend just as long fulfilling. “why did you go see doctor baizhu alone?”

“o-oh,” your cheeks burn with a bit of embarrassment, your bottom lip in a pout and your fingers fidgeting with the stem of the flower in your hand. you knew why he was asking. “it’s just - you were out and busy and i didn’t want to -”

“you can always call my name.”

“i know,” you hum sweetly, pulling yourself back into his embrace. your head resting on his shoulder, feeling his deep breaths.

he takes you into his arms, strong hands finding the back of your thighs and lifting them around his thin waist, taking the few steps to your bed where he places you down gently, following after you. you giggle as he does, sparkling in happiness and love when he hovers over you before leaning down to kiss you, claiming your lips gently but so very full of his emotions.

when he finally pulls away, a lovely flush to his cheeks, he moves to rest next to you, taking his normal spot at the edge of the bed and you easily follow so you can face him. you place the violet grass in the space of the pillow between you, his hand coming to hold it with yours and for a few quiet moments you bask in each other like this, the happiness you both feel painted over your love stricken faces, a side many have not seen from the adepti. the tiredness you felt before pulls at you in this comfortable position, the hand on top of yours growing warmer when xiaos thumb rubs back and forth over your knuckles, slow and soothing until you fall asleep, watching over you and the greatest gift he would receive, proof of how much you loved him, wanted him, needed him, as he always would.

genshin impact masterlist | main masterlist

#tartaglia #childe #diluc ragnvindr #genshin impact #xiao #xiao x reader #diluc #tartaglia x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #childe x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fluff #diluc ragnvindr fluff #diluc x reader #genshin x reader #ajax x reader #xiao fluff #childe fluff #ajax fluff

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luo-yuans · 7 months

Text

SACRARIUM ✧ ALHAITHAM

even though he’s a deity, he worships you.

cw// deity! alhaitham, shrine-keeper!afab! reader (no pronouns used), historical au, mention of war and death (for alhaitham’s backstory), pwp (w/ plot), obsessiveness, delusions, dubcon (reader is pressured into consenting), body worship, humiliation, praising, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected, sex at a shrine, slight dumbifiction, dacryphilia, cervix fucking, overstimulation, breeding, semi-proofread, semi-ooc alhaitham, nsfw starts paragraph ~34

alhaitham had been all but forgotten. a deity once so prominent, his shrine was flooded with the masses from dawn until dusk. lines of people, young and old, would be going down the mountain to get to the gate of his shrine. they just hoped that they would reach it before dusk, which was almost always impossible due to the high number of visitors on any given day. some of his most devoted followers would even go as far as sleeping at his shrine, with their feet pointed to the altar, in hopes of soaking up every last bit of his divinity. alhaitham adored it—the feeling of being so loved. though these people only heard stories of his greatness from hundreds of years ago, they still worshipped him and he relished in it. even though the shrine served as a boost to his egoism, his people’s prayers were always answered. that’s why they came back day in and day out. travellers from afar would visit just to pray to the divine being.

alhaitham was known as the deity of war and perseverance. his shrine sat on top of the soil he was slaughtered on. three hundred or so years ago, he led the enemy general up this same mountain, which was rocky and barren, and sacrificed his life for the eventual win of his people. from his grave blossomed an elm tree, and this was seen as a sign of divinity. his grave had grown a tree, on an otherwise desolate mountain. a shrine was immediately built, in both honour and faith. however, now there was not a single person left to honour him. he had been forgotten with time. there’s nothing he could have done to prevent it, and he hated that. the only thing that had stopped him from fading away all these years was the shrine-keeper.

your house was down the mountain from the shrine, which you had inherited from your father, who had inherited it from his father, and so on. along with the house, you also inherited the shrine, and all the responsibilities that came with it. every day, you hiked up the mountain and tended to the shrine. at first, alhaitham was annoyed by how you’d always talk aloud while wiping the leaves off the gate of his shrine. but soon, he found himself looking forward to your rambles. don’t blame him, he’s been rather lonely for the past century, and no shrine-keeper has even unknowingly talked his ear off like you have. gosh, are you even aware that he’s listening? the amount of embarrassing secrets, he’s certain you wouldn’t want anyone to know, that he’s heard is unprecedented.

he found you cute. the way you’d get excited while babbling on about the latest book you’re reading (he’s glad he has you to keep him updated on current literature). how your face would scrunch up when talking about how someone was rude to you at the market (alas he wished he was there to make them suffer his wrath). and, the way fat tears rolled down your cheeks as you cried your heart out over something so minuscule, at least to him (if only he could comfort you, he would).

in centuries of being a deity, many people—men, women, and children— have cried at his shrine. but none of their crying ever made his heart swell with sadness like yours did. oh god, before alhaitham knew it, he was obsessed with you. you were just so perfect in every way. even your flaws made his heart skip a beat. if you went a day without visiting the shrine, he found himself wallowing in jealousy and anger. where were you? how dare you not visit him?! did you even know how much you truly meant to him? he wished he could just tell you. once. that’s all he would need.

alhaitham didn’t know what happened. he could feel the cold mountain air against his skin and his body felt weighed down by the fabric of his garments. it was something he hadn’t felt in a while. the sunlight shone in his eyes. he had almost forgotten how much that hurt. he squinted, and there you were, in front of him with your jaw slack and your eyes wide open as if you had seen a ghost. he doesn’t blame you. if it wasn’t for his hand that instinctively made its way to your waist, he’d think he was a dead man walking as well. as a deity, he was accustomed to unusual circumstances, but this just confused him. had his wish been granted? if so, by whom? oh, all that didn’t matter now. his hand moved from your waist to your cheek. his pad of his thumb, rough and calloused from all his swordsmanship, gently caressed your soft skin.

“my dear shrine-keeper,” alhaitham smiled. it was a smile of a lonely man. one who had lived in isolation for many centuries. a smile of relief. it felt so good to feel skin against his. but, you backed away. why did you back away?!

“no.. you,” you gasped, your eyes darting between the statue of alhaitham and the man in front of you, sporting a look of betrayal. even though the silver metal of the effigy had faded to copper in some places, his features were still identifiable. “you’re dead.” he pondered your words for a moment. you were correct. but, then how was he here?

alhaitham chuckled, “no, my love. i’m here. you won’t have to suffer any longer.” he took a step closer to you, his eyes filling with fury as you took a step back. “are you afraid?” he asked bluntly, crossing his arms over his chest. he couldn’t believe you were acting like this. you couldn’t stopped taking care of his shrine at any moment or time, but you chose not to! that must be because you share his feelings.

when you didn’t respond, still looking at him stunned, he grumbled, grabbing your wrist before you could run away. alhaitham pulled you into his chest, hugging you tightly. “don’t test your luck.” his voice was low and threatening. a shiver went down your spine like a surge of lightning. you tried to speak, to tell him to let go, or at least say something, make some kind of noise from your vocal cords, but you were too frightened to.

the way your body trembled against his as he hugged you made alhaitham laugh. “dear, i’m not even doing anything. yet.” soothingly, he rubbed his hand up and down your back, not caring that you seemed to flinch with each and every touch. you had heard stories of him. his war victories, his triumps and defeats. you knew he was a force to be reckoned with. you didn’t want to test your luck.

“w-what do you want…?” you croaked, closing your eyes shut tightly. perhaps, if you closed them tight enough, he’d disappear and you’d wake up from this dream.

“hm?” you could hear the frown in his voice. “that’s all you have to say to me, my little shrine-keeper? we must work on your gratitude.”

“what are you talking about?” your voice was significantly more quiet than his, every time you spoke. it made alhaitham upset. why weren’t you your usual lively self?! did someone do something to you?

“oh, dear. i’ve been answering your prayers for a long time,” alhaitham tilted his head down to chuckle into your ear.

you froze. “i’ve never prayed to you.”

“not directly, no,” he pulled away from the embrace, but kept his hand tightly wrapped around your wrist. you weren’t going anywhere.

“what?” the confusion on your face was too adorable for alhaitham to bear.

“my precious shrine-keeper, think harder,” his eyes bore into yours as he pushed a strand of hair out of your face, not caring that you flinched. you thought for a moment. you thought about all the times you had rambled in front of his shrine.

you complained a lot, you cried even more than you complained, and you always spoke freely, naming names without caring. though, you failed to make the connection between those people you frequently whined about and the ill-fated situations that followed your complaining. garment makers who had given you an unfair price would suddenly go bankrupt after you angrily ranted at the shrine. people who had wronged or irritated you would suddenly experience strings of bad luck.

alhaitham chuckled at the way your face expression morphed into one of realization. he gently held your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, tilting your head up to meet his eyes, “ah, so you realize it now, my love. don’t you think your god deserves a reward?” he hummed, leaning into kiss you. he paused, a inch away from your lips. your noses were touching as he spoke, “yes or no, dear?”

you shook your head. alhaitham frowned. it wasn’t genuine. he knew he would get you to break eventually. “i’ve done so much for you, and all you are is ungrateful,” his voice was harsh and threatening. his grasp on your wrist tightened, sending a surge of pain throughout you body. his grip was so constricting, you could see your hand begin to turn purple. it felt numb.

“alhaitham,” you whimpered out, trying to pull away from his grasp.

his face softened and a small smile appeared on his lips, “so you accept that i’m your god?”

“i never said that- ah!”

his hand tightened around your wrist even more. he leaned forward, a menacing look on his face, and whispered into your ear, “who am i to you, shrine-keeper?”

swallowing your pride, you mumbled, “a god.”

he yanked on your wrist, causing you to yelp, “try again.”

“my god,” you whispered. you looked up at alhaitham with your blurry vision. you didn’t even realize you were crying until he used his free-hand to wipe your cheeks.

“put it together now,” he demanded.

“you’re my god.” alhaitham let out a sigh of relief, finally letting go of your wrist. you pulled your wrist to your chest, gently caressing the bruise that was already starting to appear.

“now, shall we have some fun?” alhaitham murmured, grabbing at the fabric of your garments. when you pulled away, he grumbled. “i could make you feel so good, sweetheart. don’t you want me to?”

you shook your head, “go away! leave the shrine!”

“leave my own shrine?” alhaitham scoffed. he was done playing these foolish games of yours. bickering back and forth was getting him nowhere. “that’s quite enough, stupid shrine-keeper,” he growled before kissing you roughly. his lips lacked any sort of rhythm or gentleness. he bit, nibbled, and sucked on your lips, not caring about the small whimpers and whines you let out, and the way you tried to push him away.

his hands travelled down to your waist as he pulled your body flush against his. it was such a crude sight with the way he forced his tongue into your mouth and rolled his hips against your body, searching for any sort of friction. this was a scenario he longed for—to claim his lovely shrine-keeper for his own. on one of your many visits to the shrine, you had spoken of other men in your village, but none of them could amount to a deity, could they? the pleasure he would give you would send you straight to paradise, if you just let him! he couldn’t understand why you were being so stubborn.

when he finally pulled away from the kiss, he whispered in your ear, “do you want more?” your hesitation made him nibble on your earlobe as he awaited your response. after a moment passed, he sighed. “no one will know. i’ll be gentle, i promise. whatever it is that’s holding you back, don’t fret your pretty little head about it. i’ll take care of it. just tell me what it is. i would do anything for my little shrine-keeper,” though his tone was calm and unwavering, his speech pattern seemed almost frantic. he was desperate. your silence cut through his heart like the sharp blade that led to his demise centuries ago. his hands on your waist tightened, “speak.”

“fine,” you whispered, barely audible. alhaitham perked up, immediately clashing his mouth against yours. he forced his tongue back into your mouth, except this time, it was more welcome. his heart nearly jumped out of his chest when he felt your hand on the side of his neck. when your other hand went to his cheek, he melted into your touch. you didn’t know the effect you had on him. you were everything to him.

alhaitham pulled away from the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours, “i love you so much.” he didn’t expect you to respond. he knew you wouldn’t, though he wished you did. he knew you didn’t share his feelings, but he hoped he could change your mind. everything about you was just so sweet and lovable. he wanted to dote on you for the rest of your mortal life if you’d let him. but he could tell by the look of disgust on your face when he proclaimed his love, he was far from his final goal. it angered him. nothing would make him happier than you loving him back, or at least sharing some of his affection. he was a deity, after all, but you looked at him as if he was some kind of lowlife criminal. he didn’t get it.

“strip,” he demanded, taking a step back to let you fullfil his order. his voice cut through the silence like a knife. tears welled in your eyes upon hearing his command. alhaitham glared at you. “don’t be a crybaby, you agreed to this.” you nodded, sniffling as you wiped your eyes, stopping any tears that were threatening to fall. with your back turned to him, you stripped down naked, feeling humiliated. you were exposed, on the top of a mountain, at a sacred shrine. the cold wind and chilly air surrounded your naked body as you covered your chest and cunt with your arms and hands.

“are you cold?” alhaitham gently wrapped an arm around your waist, and pulled you back against his chest. his body was warm, almost comforting. his mouth peppered kisses along your neck and shoulder, making you squirm in his grasp. when you nodded your head, he took off the cape he was wearing and put it on your shoulders. “face me,” and you did so. his eyes widened in awe. he dropped to his knees, kissing your stomach gently as he looked up at you through half-lidded eyes. it was as if he was hypnotized by your body. “stunning,” he murmured, his fingers dancing across your abdomen. the more affecionate he was, the more inclined you were to fully unveil the rest of your body. slowly removing your hands from your crotch and chest, he was too enchanted by the rest of your body to notice. when alhaitham finally noticed, he let out a gasp.

alhaitham’s fingers graze your waist, then your hip, then your pelvic bone, nearing your crotch. “may i?” he looked up at you with pleading eyes. he looked so vulnerable, so adorable in that moment. you couldn’t help but agree. with a smile, he gently traced your labia with his fingers before collecting your precum and plunging one of his fingers into your hole without warning. you let out a shocked yelp, stumbling slightly, but alhaitham’s freehand grabbed your leg, steadying you. “shh, you’re taking my fingers so well.”

you whined, reaching down to caress the top of his head. alhaitham blushed slightly. in all his years existing as an omnipresent deity, he never would have fathomed the affect a mortal such as yourself would have on him. even before he was a god, he was a warrior—a cruel one at that. but, he was currently on his knees for human being, of regular status. it wasn’t his fault. it’s like you had him under some sort of spell.

you were so adorable, he couldn’t help himself from shoving another finger into you, not caring that you barely had time to adjust to the first one. he continued to slowly, and rhythmically move his fingers in and out of you. attentively, he watched the way your face expression changed with each movement of his fingers. he observed the pleasurable faces you made when he hit a good spot, and the uncomfortable look that painted your features when his fingers went too deep (which he murmured an apology for).

“alhaitham,” you moaned out, feeling your legs tremble. you didn’t know how much longer you could stay standing. if it wasn’t for alhaitham’s hand still on the back of your thigh, steadying you, you would have fallen over by now.

“you’re doing great, sweetheart. just a little longer,” he murmured before giving kitten licks to your clit. when you whined loudly, he chuckled, blowing hot air onto your sensitive cunt. he sped up the pace of his fingers, and began sucking on your clit harshly. each motion sent a surge of pleasure through your entire body. by now, his cock was unbearably hard in his pants, but he was too focused on you to care.

“please, alhaitham,” you whimpered. alhaitham didn’t respond. instead, he fuck you with his fingers even faster, reaching places that you always failed to reach with your smaller hands. his two fingers alone were filling you up so nicely, and his tongue was flicking your sensitive clit. you couldn’t take it anymore. with a loud moan, you came on his fingers, trembling as your body lurched forward. he took his fingers out of you just in time to stop you from falling. his two hands were on your hips before he gently pulled you down. you were on your back, lying on top of the cape he had wrapped around your shoulders, as you looked up at him. his eyes were full of adoration.

“i’m going to make you mine,” he growled, kissing from your abdomen all the way to your neck, leaving kisses and small bites along the way. he relished the way you whined and whimpered, but stayed perfectly still for him. “you’re being so good,” he praised, nipping your shoulder gently as to not leave a trace. the deity didn’t dare mark your skin. your body was too perfect to be tainted in such barbaric ways. although, the bruise around your wrist of his own making is something he’ll ignore. he wasn’t thinking straight then. it was a weak moment for him! an angel like you only comes around once every few centuries (he was certain of that), and therefore, you must be treated like one.

“alhaitham!” the moment you needily whined his name, pulling him out of his thoughts, he’s tugging down his pants and taking his aching cock out. he was big, but you expected nothing more for a warrior, let alone a deity.

��you’re so lovely, my little shrine-keeper. every part of you is magnificent… as if you were sculpted into the perfect being,” he hummed, teasingly rubbing his cock up and down your folds. he adored how your body twitched in anticipation. alhaitham leaned over to capture your lips in a passionate kiss, led by him. as if the kiss was some sort of distraction, he plunged his cock into you. his lips captured every moan and whimper you let out. once he was fully sheathed, he stayed still for a moment, pulling away to watch your facial expressions.

“move,” you demanded, but your shaky voice belied all authority your demand had.

alhaitham chuckled, “seems like we still need to work on your manners, hm?”

“please,” the desperate look in your eyes was enough.

“that’s it, sweetheart,” alhaitham praised before slowly moving in and out of your sensitive cunt. his pace was almost excruciatingly tame. this was on purpose. the deity was going at such a pace to watch the way you squirmed underneath him, rolling your hips in an attempt to pleasure yourself. “behave,” he scolded, grabbing onto your hips.

with a loud cry, you pleaded with him, “please! move faster, please!”

“hm, you’re going to need to convince me,” he grinned, chuckling when he saw your frown deepen.

“please, i’ll be good! i promise, i swear!” you whined, wriggling beneath him impatiently.

alhaitham chuckled in wry amusement, “oh, you swear, do you?” you fervently nodded your head. “hm, then i suppose i can indulge you, can’t i?” before you could think of a response, he pulled all the way out before slamming back in. he continued to fuck you at a brutal pace. it almost made you prefer his previous speed—almost—he was hitting so many good places, ones that you never knew were so pleasurable.

the way he slammed in and out of your greedy hole left you a moaning and crying mess, completely at the mercy of your deity. your tear-stained face and quivering chin only served as further motivation for alhaitham. each sob you let out made him pound into you harder, wondering how hard he could go until you broke. he would love nothing more than his angel to be fucked stupid on his cock, and with how he was pleasuring you right now, that wouldn’t be difficult. you were already in some sort of a daze, with your mouth agape and your eyes shut as tears rolled down your cheeks. moans and incoherent babblers flew out of your mouth faster than alhaitham could fuck you.

“you feel so good, angel. i’m surprised you’re taking me so well,” he chuckled between grunts. “it’s like you were made to be mine.” a sinister look flashed in his eyes before quickly disappearing. rapidly, you felt your orgasm approaching, but your blubbering wasn’t coherent enough for alhaitham to know that. the deity was pleasantly surprised when you came on his cock, your walls squeezing him roughly, as if your body was trying to milk him for all he’s worth. “fuck, angel,” he groaned, releasing a load of his semen deep inside of your cunt. however, this didn’t make him stop. he continued to relentlessly thrust into your poor oversensitive cunt, revelling in the way your body shuddered uncontrollably.

each movement of his hips forced another loud, blissful mouth from your pretty lips, which mixed with the squelching sounds. the cum from his previous orgasm had formed a lewd ring near the base of his cock, that kept moving higher up as he reached deeper inside of you. he knew he had hit your cervix when you withered in pain, letting out a loud squeal.

“hush, angel,” alhaitham hummed. his breathing was heavy and laboured whilst he leaned over, pressing a kiss to your hairline. he slowed down his thrusts, but still went deep, kissing your cervix each time as he gently rubbed circles on your hips with his thumbs. “you’re doing so well, sweetheart. just a little longer, alright?” when you nodded your head in understanding, he took his hand up to your face and wipe your tear-soaked cheeks. “i love you, angel,” he murmured, leaving a peck on your cheek before he started to speed up, yet again.

this time, it was more bearable when he’d hit your cervix, his tip threatening to intrude it at any moment. he continued to coo at you whilst his cock overstimulated your cunt beyond belief. it didn’t help when alhaitham’s hand left your face to vigorously roll your clit, adoring how much louder your whines and moans got. with one final thrust, he buried his cock to its hilt in your cunt as his tip finally reached past your cervix, shooting his cum deep inside of your womb with a loud grunt.

“‘haitham!” you squealed, tears running down your cheeks like a waterfall as you had your third orgasm of the day. alhaitham chuckled, staying sheathed inside of you.

“don’t worry, angel. that’s all for today,” he hummed, gently running his fingers up and down your stomach. your entire body was trembling. alhaitham thought it was cute how sensitive you were.

once the deity finally pulled out, his cum seeping out of your hole, making a mess of your thighs, he laid beside you on the ground and pulled you into his embrace. as you laid on his chest, with his cape covering your body, you couldn’t stop your heavy eyelids from closing.

#genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #alhaitham smut #alhaitham x reader #genshin headcanons #dark content #seas ✧ split

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inafieldofdaisies · 1 year

Text

Collapse (Far Cry 6 DLC) | Visited by the Judge (*sound on*, meme edit) + interesting Audio | Scenery appreciation (vol. 10-?)

/ If Joseph won't entertain me, I shall entertain myself... so here's a little meme I couldn't help but create.

/ I honestly feel so bad about having to unalive my boy the Judge over & over again to unlock a safe house ... so I'm forced to stick to only using The Garden as saving point.

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nohoney · 1 year

Text

The guests are waiting in the reception hall for you and Katsuki to make your appearance. You and your new husband stepped away to sign your marriage certificate in private, and to also give yourselves some time to one another before having to socialize with all the guests at the wedding. It’s going to be a long reception before you and Katsuki head off for your honeymoon.

The wedding certificate is already signed and you’re supposed to be out in fifteen minutes at the reception hall.

“K-Katsuki, don’t take too long…” you pant out as you hold the skirt of your wedding dress up towards your chest. “We gotta be out there soon…” You’re thankful that the tulle skirt isn’t so thick and that it’s not an armful as you hold it out of the way for your new husband who’s currently kneeled down in between your legs. The white lace of your panties is being held aside as Katsuki laps at your pussy eagerly.

“Just wanna taste my wife first…” Katsuki mutters before diving his tongue back into your pussy.

He couldn’t wait until after the reception for his first fuck with his wife.

On the same table you signed your marriage certificate, your body is laid out on top of it as you’re being eaten out by your husband.

“That’s enough ‘Tsuki, you can fuck me now.” You panted out a little desperately, “Want you in me!”

He’s quick to be up on his feet and hurriedly undoes his belt, pushing his pants and underwear down to his mid thigh. All the photos for the ceremonial attire were already taken and the two of you are supposed to change into your reception clothes but he just couldn’t help himself seeing how beautiful and happy you looked when he caught you staring at the bridal set he put on for you in front of everyone.

There’s a sea of people waiting for the newly weds.

Those fuckers can wait.

“Who do you want to fuck you?” Katsuki asks while jerking his cock first in his hand. “Who do you want inside your pussy?”

Your head lolls against the surface of the table and your hands scrunch up the tulle that you still hold to your chest. “You, want you inside of me!”

“And who am I to you?”

“My husband, you’re my husband.”

Katsuki practically plunged himself into you, his cock sliding into you and wrapping him in your warmth that he’s experienced hundreds of times but now he does it with the title of your husband.

From this day forward, everything he does will be with the title as your husband and everything you do will be with the title as his wife. It dawns on him that you have his last name now, you signed the document with his last name that is now attached to you.

“Say your name, baby.” Katsuki grunts as he fucks himself into you. “Say your new name now, tell me who you are now.”

You choke out the answer with whimpering breaths, hardly able to concentrate as you’re impaled by Katsuki’s cock. It seems every time he pushes back inside of you, you just keep on creaming on his dick endlessly. Maybe you’re even more excited than he is than you’re letting on. You breathlessly announce your married name and cry out when Katsuki presses himself balls deep into you. “F-Fuck!”

Your name was beautiful before but now it sounds even better now that you’re using his.

You’re a Bakugou now.

You’re his wife now.

It echoes through his mind and it repeats, it’s the driving force that has Katsuki fucking faster and harder into you. He peers down at you to see that you’re still holding the tulle of your skirt against the corset of your dress. Seeing the shining gold of your wedding band that he slipped on your finger not too long ago makes his heart all soft and tender that he can’t help but lean down to kiss you. You whine softly into the kiss and you’re breathless when he pulls back to tell you that he loves you.

“Mmhmm… love you too.”

“Wife.” He sighs out happily.

“Husband.” You moan with a dreamy smile on your face.

The newly weds are fifteen minutes late past the time they were supposed to debut at the reception. All their friends and family know why they’re late, whispering playfully among themselves but of course keeping mum when the bride and groom finally show up. Although there’s a suspiciously faint bite mark on the side of your neck when turn your head to the right-

“Everyone, welcome Mr. and Mrs. Bakugou!!”

It’s the biggest party the two of you have ever had to socialize for, a lot of friends and family that are congratulating you or wanting a dance and just basking in the merriment of the nuptials. When the reception is waning down, you and Bakugou are sitting at your table as glasses of champagne are cleared away and there’s a few stragglers left at the reception that have huddled into small groups to talk about love and life. Your reception heels are tossed away someplace else and your new husband has your feet in his lap, massaging you in the same way that he’s always done for you but now with a wedding band on his left hand.

“Car is pulling up soon, baby. Y’ready for sandy beaches and sun and swimming?” Bakugou asks as he thinks about the tropical location you chose for the honeymoon. He made it your choice since he proposed during a chilly early morning mountain hike, all things you wouldn’t tolerate unless you were with him.

“I’m ready for a nap,” You giggle, “how about you?”

Bakugou hums in agreement as he pats your ankle and looks around for your heels, finding them right underneath the table. He buckled them for you and idly nods to Kirishima and Deku that are helping usher the remaining people out the reception hall.

You and him walk slowly towards the bridal suite where your bags were packed ahead of time. You’re still a little tipsy but a good pee and some water packed with electrolytes will help you feel better. “Can we stop for french fries first, husband?” You ask with a giddy little smile.

“Yes wife, we’ll stop for french fries first.”

#bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou smut

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personasintro · 10 months

Text

monachopsis | 09

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; after receiving unpleasant news that doesn’t allow you to grow your family, your husband comes up with an idea that unfortunately involves his brother whom he despises

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: tattoo artist!yoongi x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, fluff, smut, mini series, brother-in-law au

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, ANGST

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 16.4k+

a/n: the long wait is over and the new chapter is here 🥹 sit back and enjoy ❤️‍🔥

↳ chapter index

⇠ prev. | next ⇢

The cold and dark night perfectly portrays your inner feelings that dawn on you on the outside too, tears blurring your vision as you angrily wipe them off. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You shouldn't have come here. You trusted Yoongi to help you, maybe you even looked for comfort in him but you never expected he would accuse you of something like that.

Absolutely understanding that it's not his responsibility to comfort you, he could've easily told you to fuck off if he wanted. But still, you hoped he would understand. Your reaction is mainly controlled by your emotions, not with your head that doesn't seem to be in the right place.

Life taught you not to expect things from people, but everyone's got their expectations. Especially when you feel like you know that person at least a little bit. So you expect nothing this time, making your way to the car when you hear your name being shouted on the street.

You've barely managed to take a few, fast and angry, strolls out of the studio. Glancing back and stopping in your tracks, you notice Yoongi staring at you as he rushes to you. You can't face him now. You turn around and continue in your path with even more eager and faster steps to get to your car.

Yoongi catches up to you though, running after you as the wind gets more intense and makes your hair stick to your wet cheeks. He's not going to let you leave, especially when he stormed out of his studio past his very confused friends. He's not fully understanding what happened, he might've gotten carried away and shouldn't have accused you of such things. But from what you were saying, it was something that made sense.

You're not okay. You weren't okay the second he laid his eyes on you when you were standing at the entrance of his new studio. And you're not okay now when he catches you by your forearm, stopping you from getting away from him and he sees your crying face.

Fuck. Is that all his doing?

“What do you want?” you snap, shrugging off his touch with an angry frown as you wipe your cheeks with the sleeve.

What does he want? He has no fucking idea. He just couldn't leave you in such a state, knowing you have nowhere else to go. For fuck sake, he doesn't get why you came to him out of all people but you did. And he knows he would feel like a fucking asshole if he let you leave in your current state. The look of you only confirms he has done the right thing.

“I shouldn't have assumed anything,” he speaks, eyes dancing across your face as you're trying to look angry. Only he feels bad for you, knowing what happened between you and his brother is way more serious. “I'm sorry.”

“I'm sorry I came here. It won't happen again.” you say emotionlessly, ending the conversation there as you turn around.

Yoongi doesn't let you. He catches you again, softly but enough to let you stay as he turns you around. “Where are you going?”

“Why do you care?” The same emotionless tone. It makes his jaw tick.

“Where are you going?” he asks again, this time more deeper and slower.

“To my car. Now let me go.”

The truth is, you weren't only crying because of what Yoongi said. Sure, the interaction shocked you to the point where you felt disappointment, sadness and anger. You don't even know what emotion dominates. However, it's the awful feeling of loneliness and desperation. You have no idea what you're going to do now.

Yoongi watches you, a realization hitting him. “Fuck, you're shaking, Y/N.”

It hits you too. He's right. You didn't even notice it.

And then you break and a silent whimper leaves your mouth. There's no control over it, your body shaking even more as Yoongi sucks in breath harshly at the heartbreaking sight. He moves automatically, pulling your body to his with no protest from your side as you welcome his warmth. Despite the odd situation and Yoongi's arms around your fragile body, it doesn't dawn upon you he's hugging you until he tightens his grip on you.

“It's gonna be okay.” he mutters into the chilly air.

For a moment you're not able to react in any way, you direct all your focus trying to stop the tears that have welled up in your eyes and rolled down your cheeks.

“Nothing's gonna be okay.”

“Now that's very pessimistic of you.” He tries to joke lightly, letting out just a light chuckle. But once he doesn't seem you nowhere near amused and in the same state, he gently pulls you off him to get another glance at your teary face.

It's embarrassing that he sees you in such a horrific and vulnerable state. For a solid second you hate him for approaching you. Why couldn't he just let you leave? He said what he wanted to say. The hurt still resonates and even when he gently wipes the tears off your cheeks with his thumb, like you would often see in romantic movies, nothing about this is romantic. You're pregnant, nowhere to go and with no one by your side.

Yoongi might've apologized already, but his assumption and words still sting and you have a hard time believing him. Is he truly sorry? Or he just didn't expect you to storm out of there like that? And finding you crying in the middle of the street like an emotional wreck?

“Come on, let's get you to the car.” he mumbles under his breath, looking around before he gently tugs onto your wrist. He doesn't let go, almost as if he's afraid of you running.

“My car's that way.” you point out emotionlessly, stubborn to show any more emotion that you already have.

He was right about one thing. You shouldn't drive in this state. No matter what could've happened, this is no longer only about you. You've got one more person to think about.

“We're gonna drive in my car.” he simply says and you don't argue.

Once he unlocks his car with a key – the old system of unlocking – you get inside and does it feel odd to be back inside it again? No words are exchanged, the radio playing softly in the background as you allow yourself to lean back and stare out of the window. You're not sure where he's taking you. Oh god, is he taking you back home? You can't go there! Not with Yeonseok there.

Just as you open your mouth, you recognize the familiar street and the direction you're heading at.

“Where are we going?” you ask, despite knowing but you still have to ask. Yoongi's aware of that.

“To my place.��

“Yoongi–”

Still hurt (and upset too) by your latest conversation at his new studio, you're aware of Yoongi wanting to be out of this as much as possible. While you're guessing he must feel bad for you and that's why he's doing this, you don't want him to do this out of pure pity. You would rather be alone in a hotel room until you figure out this mess.

“You said you have nowhere to go, didn't you?” he reminds you. A little output by his bluntness, your mouth opens and closes before you find words.

“And you said everything is way past us.” You quote him with an edge to your tone, shooting him a side glance as he keeps his eyes on the road as he lets out a sigh. “Drive me to a hotel. Any hotel is fine.”

You feel his momentarily gaze on you. Too stubborn to look, you keep staring ahead with a clenched jaw. It's not like there's no appreciation of what he's doing on your part. After everything – even if the emotions are too raw and current – you can tell that it's a positive thing that he decided to stop you from driving. As usual, you're absolutely clueless about what's going on inside his head or why he's doing this. You don't think he's got any bad intentions. Regardless of what his parents and your husband say about him, you know Yoongi does have a good heart.

But you've got your own pride as well.

“I know what I said and I'm sorry.” he simply says, continuing in his drive and not changing the direction which you decide not to comment on for numerous reasons.

The air between you is a little stiff, undoubtedly caused by the misunderstanding (is that what it was?), and the way inside the building and his apartment is spent in utter silence. It's until Yoongi closes his front door and you're met with the familiar scent of oranges and wood, that you finally speak up.

“Why am I here, Yoongi?” you ask, not taking off your shoes like he tells you to – muttering it almost tiredly to be exact. You ignore him, raising your brow as you demand an answer.

He takes off his shoes and jacket silently, placing the items to their designated place. He's definitely taking his time but you don't budge, hardening your features even more as he takes a sneaky glance at you.

“Can we not fight?”

“I'm not fighting!” you exclaim, a little bit too loud which causes him to raise his brow at you this time. “Thanks for driving me but I shouldn't be here.”

“But you came to me, haven't you?” he asks, hardening his features just as much. “You must've wanted help.”

“I needed a friend,” you correct him. “I needed someone who understands.” Your voice wavers and you mentally curse at yourself.

He has no reaction, simply looking at you until he drops his gaze toward his feet.

“I know we're no friends. I'm aware of that. But I needed someone who's familiar with my situation. It was wrong of me to come up to you. You were right, it looked wrong and I shouldn't have–”

“I was an asshole for assuming the reason for you coming there.” he cuts you off. “It didn't even cross my mind that you needed–that you needed someone who understands.”

“You wanted as far out of this mess as possible,” you point out harshly. “And I can't blame you for it. We all got what we wanted, didn't we?”

He looks up, your eyes meeting for a moment as he understands the double meaning of your words. Poking the tongue inside of his cheek, he looks behind you.

“I don't wanna be any burden to you. I will handle this by myself, somehow. I don't know how yet, but it's not your concern. I'm sorry for coming to you.”

“Don't,” he cuts you off, staring at you sternly. “Just stay here, okay?” he asks, sighing exhaustedly like this entire situation makes him both mentally and physically exhausted.

It definitely exhausts you.

“Why?”

The question is simple. You don't expect him to give you a proper answer or any at this point. Yoongi might be honest but most of the time, he keeps his thoughts to himself. He's not one to open his heart and if he does, he does it almost emotionlessly. You know it's all an act. The often mentioned build-up wall you named in your mind.

“Because I wanna help.”

That alone makes your breath hitch. Dryly gulping, you try not to react too much as you stand there not moving an inch.

“Do you, now?” you ask. You're aware of your stubbornness and the fact you're not making any of this easy. You should be happy that he's trying to help. At least someone is. Someone that doesn't need an explanation of what a fucked up deal you made. Someone that doesn't need an explanation of why you left your perfect and loving husband. So yes, he's here trying to help and you should be glad for it. A part of you thinks like that.

But there's that part of you completely clueless by his intentions or inner thoughts. He's talking but at the same time he barely reveals anything. Perhaps your questioning and attitude is caused by still lingering hurt.

“Yes,” he answers with a frown. “So let me help you.”

Features softening, you stare into those usually sharp eyes that somehow keep their shape despite the light behind them changing. Hesitantly, you take off your shoes and ignore the fact he's watching you the entire time. Once you're done, he leads you further down his small apartment. Not that he needs you. You know this place well and again, it's not like any of you need that reminder.

“I can lend you some of my clothes.” he says, motioning for you to sit down on his couch.

You obey, placing your hands over your knees as you look around. Why are you suddenly nervous? Or is that discomfort you're feeling? You definitely imagined all of this to go differently. Still a little shaken up by everything that has happened today, everything starts to take its toll on you.

“I'm not a tea drinker but I should have herbal tea somewhere. I will make you one.”

He doesn't wait for your response, simply walking away to his kitchen to prepare the tea. He's gone for a few minutes, but you refuse to even look in that direction. You hate that feeling of being alone. As soon as you're surrounded by the four walls and silence, minus the occasional sounds of drawers opening and closing that come from the kitchen, everything starts to replay in your mind like a broken record.

Luckily, Yoongi comes back with a cup of tea, placing it in front of you in utter silence.

“Thanks.”

He only nods, slowly and carefully sitting down on the separate chair.

“You can take my bed.”

“I can sleep on the couch.” you inform him. “I'm not fragile.”

He seems like he wants to argue at that statement, he keeps his mouth shut. The couch is nothing but uncomfortable and you both know that. But you don't need him sacrificing himself any more than he already has.

“Don't fight me on this, alright?” he asks gently. When your stern frown meets his exhausted one, you press your lips into a tight line as you mutter out another thanks. “I've got sessions throughout the entire day, but feel free to do whatever you want.”

“I'll leave tomorrow morning. Thanks for letting me stay the night.” you tell him, meaning every word.

“You can stay however long you want, okay?” He leans his head, trying to catch your eyes again. And once he does and your gaze naturally finds him, he deepens his stare as if to make sure you understand. “I'm barely at home. You'll have this place all to yourself. Not that there's much to do but…”

You press your lips tightly, a little grin threatening to crack.

“I'll try to come home quickly. We'll figure it out, okay?”

Looking at him once more, you search his face for any answers that are yet to be answered.

What do you mean, you want to ask. Since when does he want to get involved?

“I thought you didn't want to get involved.” you say silently, staring at your fumbling hands that rest in your lap.

“Yeah, me too.” he mutters, his eyes not leaving his form. “I got myself involved the moment I nodded to Yeonseok's idea.”

Flinching at the sound of your husband's name, you clear your throat rather awkwardly.

“It's not your responsibility to get into this mess. I know in a way you're involved, but you're not entirely involved in my and your brother's mess.”

It definitely sounds messy. The argument started with Yoongi, the entire trail of your thoughts started with him in a way. But he doesn't need to get involved more than that. It was a mistake on your part to come to his new place and search for him, in hope for some comfort.

“Me staying here is just going to cause a disaster.”

You both know you're talking about your husband here. The look you both share says it all.

“Yeonseok?” he still asks, chuckling a little.

You nod.

“I'm not afraid of him.”

“I know you're not but he's… you know how he is. If he finds out I'm here–he probably already suspects I went to you. I'm not sure but I think he does.”

“I'll handle him if he comes here.”

You nervously nibble on your bottom lip. Your stupid decision to seek comfort and support from Yoongi might cause even a bigger mess.

“Don't worry, okay? I'll handle it. Let me help you.”

After staring at him hesitantly, aware of vulnerability written all over your face, you give him a nod. Something that allows him to relax as he leans back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“Drink your tea before it gets cold. I'll prepare the bed for you.”

You open your mouth to argue but before you can do that, he's already on his feet walking away. Sighing in disappointment, you reach for the plain black cup nevertheless.

Yoongi doesn't leave for work too early, but early enough for you two not seeing each other. You wake up later than usual, very well aware your late night staring at the dark ceiling and not blinking an eye has a lot to do with it. No matter how tired you truly felt as soon as you laid into the fresh sheets, your mind just couldn't seem to stop working.

Yoongi stayed true to his words. He stayed on his uncomfortable couch. Proposing sharing a bed is not something appropriate, despite you've shared a bed before. Things are different now.

The first thing you did this morning, after blinking off any traces of sleep and staring around Yoongi's bedroom, was turning on your phone. No missed calls. You're not sure whether you're relieved or surprised. Yeonseok is usually very caring and tends to get worried. Deep down you know you expected to see at least a message.

It's better this way. Having him trying to reach you would just make you more uncomfortable. You know he's equally upset and even though you've never been through something like this, you made yourself clear.

Getting out of the bed, wearing Yoongi's clothes which you're trying not to think of much, you find a sticky note on a counter. A messily written note. You imagine him writing it at the last minute, hurrying to leave for work.

There's some food in the fridge, feel free to make whatever you'd like. It's not much but it should do.

Simple, but effective.

Turning on the kettle, you prepare a cup and tea. Wow, he really isn't a tea drinker. Choosing the only box he has there, you open the fridge to find good ingredients to make a proper breakfast from. You've never been much of a breakfast eater, but after you got pregnant that has changed. You've been craving more food now, even though you sometimes get sensitive about smells and taste.

You settle on a toast. It takes you around fifteen minutes to prepare everything. You purposely take your time, knowing there's nothing much for you to do for the rest of your day. Maybe you should change back into your clothes and leave Yoongi's apartment while he's at work. As much as he assured you he wants to help, you know that's not what he wanted at the beginning. Not that it matters, but something tells you the inconvenience your stay is going to bring.

You're not a pity case. You hate the thought of him pitying you.

Regardless of your thoughts, your feet don't cross his doorstep. You're in the middle of watching a movie on his Netflix account (hoping he won't mind you using it) when your phone rings. Brows lift up to your hairline, seeing Yoongi is the one calling you. Pausing the movie, you clear your throat before answering.

“Yes?”

“Um, hey.” Yoongi starts, clearing his tone from the sudden but apparent awkwardness. “Have you eaten?”

Something about that question makes you snort.

He groans on the other line. Little do you know he's awkwardly scratching the top of his head.

“I have.” you say with a smile grazing your lips.

“I'm gonna buy some groceries after work,” he continues. “There are some flyers on the fridge. Feel free to order dinner, there are uh,” he stops for a second. “A few bucks in my nightstand.”

“Yoongi, I should–”

“Just stay there, okay?”

He's met with silence.

“Y/N.”

Stopping yourself from biting your nails, you lick your dry lips. “Okay.”

Once Yoongi ends the phone call without saying anything else, you stay seated in utter silence – staring at the paused movie. It sounded like he needed assurement you wouldn't leave. You're not sure why he's so determined about you waiting up for him. You wouldn't do anything stupid, it's not like you've got many options to begin with. But you promised him you would stay.

After all, he's the only person who's helping you at the moment.

Back in Yoongi's studio, he places the phone back onto a counter with a thoughtful look. Too immersed in his thoughts, wondering what he's going to do once he comes back home, he doesn't notice Jimin coming from the back and joining him in the front.

“Your next appointment is in five. You alright?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at his friend with a suspicious look.

“Yeah.”

“Who was that on the phone? Your girlfriend?” he teases the older, laughing at Yoongi's unimpressed glare that tells him enough that he's not in the mood for a dumb teasing.

Actually, he's not been in the mood since he arrived at the studio and opened it with Jimin's help. While Yoongi's tattooing, Jimin takes care of the phone calls and incoming customers. After he ran after you, his friends were kind enough that they took care of the studio. Without their help, he wouldn't be able to start working and would be forced to cancel his long-waiting appointments. He's not in a position to cancel them. Even after paying his debts, he still needs the money.

His aching back is also a good reason for his sour mood.

“Don't hate me for asking. You've been quite secretive lately, no wonder we're all a little curious.” Even with Jimin's light grin, there's some truth to his words.

However, Yoongi doesn't agree.

He's not been secretive. He's always been the same. And he's sure what Jimin hints at is–

“Does it have something to do with your sister-in-law?” He's met with a tougher glare this time, causing Jimin's hands to lift up in surrender, showing him he means no harm.

“Is she okay though? She stormed out of here looking like a mess and then–”

“She's fine,” Yoongi cuts him off, tone harsher than he intended to which causes the younger's shoulders to drop. “Just some trouble back at home. Come on, the client is coming.” he mutters, walking to the back feeling Jimin's eyes on his back the entire time until he hears his cheerful greeting to one of Yoongi's new clients.

Despite the lack of Yoongi's will to share any information about what happened in the span of twenty-four hours, Jimin and none of his friends have a clue in what a fucked up situation he found himself in.

He never said at what time he would be back.

You've waited long enough for him to come, too embarrassed to admit your ears have been perked up at the littlest sounds, expecting the keys rustling in the lock. But when it was around eight and your stomach started to churn loud enough to no longer be ignored, you listened to Yoongi's words and ordered a delivery.

At least something seems to go right when you're in the middle of opening one of the containers when you hear the door being pushed open. It shuts in the distance and with soon approaching footsteps, you come into an eye-contact with him. Two bags full of groceries are in his both hands as the delicious smell of fresh food invades his small apartment. He glances at the amount of containers before he looks at you.

An almost inaudible Hi comes out of your mouth and instead of a vocal greeting, he nods in acknowledgement as he greets you back by it.

“I ordered some for you.” you tell him, slowly – almost cautiously – sitting behind the table.

“Thanks.” he says, eyes still lingering on the full table as your eyes widen in realization.

“Oh, I paid for it. I got a little carried away and got us a pizza and chicken wings. There's rice and a few side dishes as well.”

Yoongi listens for a second, walking to the kitchen counter where he sets the grocery bags before he turns around. He stays rooted in his spot, eyes falling down on you as you give him a sheepish look.

“I told you there's money in my nightstand. You didn't have to buy all of this.”

Even with his little pointed look and tone, you know he means well. And perhaps he's too prideful to suck up the fact you paid for it. Yoongi did say there's a few bucks in his bedroom but the order you placed cost more than just a few bucks. Although, you never checked how much money he has there – it didn't even cross your mind – none of it matters.

“I wanted to buy us dinner. It's my way of saying thanks for letting me stay here. It's the least I could do.”

Holding back any sort of reaction like you're used to when it comes to him, Yoongi sighs and rubs his face tiredly. Then he looks at you and cracks – what seems like an attempt to – smile.

He knows there's no way in arguing with you on this.

“Thanks. You didn't have to though.”

“I know I didn't. I wanted to,” you assure him right away, smiling in his direction as if to silently say that you're done with this conversation. “Now eat up. I hope you haven't eaten dinner already.”

“I haven't,” he hums, joining you at the table as he looks at the containers opening them. “Just how much did you order?” he asks, lips twitching.

“A lot.” you laugh.

Yoongi goes to grab utensils, washes his hands before joining you again at the table. The moment of you two sitting behind one table – just the two of you – having dinner feels odd. It feels oddly domestic. Just as the both of you are ready to dig in, Yoongi mutters a soft;

“Thanks for the food.”

All you can muster is a soft smile without even looking at him, stuffing your mouth with the delicious pizza as you continue to eat in silence.

After yesterday's late dinner and during the time he cleaned the kitchen, he asked you for your car keys and documents, so he could bring the car today. Not wanting to argue about that, you agreed to Yoongi's plan – making sure it's no bother which earned a certain type of look from him. Or was it a glare?

You've had the whole morning to think of your next step. Yoongi had left earlier than yesterday, the only difference is that he informed you about him having to leave very early. Something about his day being fully packed, so the only time he can bring your car is in the evening.

Your entire life is currently a big mess. What was supposed to be the happiest stage in your life, you're spending it at your brother-in-law's place with nothing. All your stuff is back at home. Home. Can you call it that?

Yeonseok has not contacted you yet. He's probably still upset over the argument and you've no idea what is going on inside his head. Not that you assume he has to contact you in the first place. Actually, you would be glad if he didn't contact you.

Eventually, the two of you will have to talk. You're not ready. Not after everything that has been replaying in your mind nonstop. Sleep is the only time when you have enough time to rest, and even that is never guaranteed.

One thing you know for sure, you can't stay here for too long. You don't want to overstay your welcome and despite what Yoongi told you on the phone yesterday, you just know he is going to want this place to himself eventually. Which means, you have to solve this with Yeonseok.

You do have money to stay at a hotel for the time being, but that's not a solution. Just a temporary one. You're pregnant for fuck sake. You're supposed to buy baby clothes and essentials, look around for a good crib and a stroller. Not being in someone else's home, invading their space and privacy and stressing yourself. On another note, it's safe to say that it is completely reasonable for you to stress. Who wouldn't?

The stress has completely invaded your life and while you're trying to keep your cool for the baby, it's bound for it to affect a thing or two. Like forgetting your appointment.

Good thing is that when you go to check your phone (while trying to give yourself a break from your never-ending stressful thoughts), a reminder pops up on the screen. You've never been one to set reminders on your phone. Just a quick note if there was too much for you. But you've started doing that since going on these appointments that included the baby.

Looking at time, you still have two hours to get there.

But that's where the problem comes. You're without your car, so you're forced to list through your contacts before you dial the only person you've been seeing for the past two days.

It rings too long to the point you get anxious. You could reschedule the appointment, but with how things have been going so far, you need the assurance that everything is fine with the baby. You haven't experienced anything alarming and concerning that could alarm you, but still. You don't want to neglect anything. If something happened, you would never forgive yourself.

Whilst in the middle of nibbling on your nails, a gruff voice you've grown to use to reach your ears.

“Um, hi. I'm sorry to bother you, I know you're extremely busy today but–”

“What happened?”

“I'm such an idiot. I just checked my phone and my appointment is today. And you know, my car's not here and I could probably get there by a bus, but I don't know this neighborhood and I'm not sure if I could get there on time.” you quickly explain, not wanting to take much of his time.

You don't know everything about him, but he seems to be the type of person that gets annoyed when someone interrupts him while working.

If he is annoyed, he doesn't show it too much.

Or it's hard to tell because his usual stoic demeanor can be recognized even through the phone. “What appointment?” he sighs.

“With–with the baby.”

He stays silent for a moment, “What time is it?”

“It's half past ten.”

“I meant the appointment.”

“Oh,” you let out, chuckling at your mistake as you mentally facepalm yourself. But it's worth it, there's something like a huff of chuckle on the other line which breaks his usual demeanor you mentioned earlier. “In two hours.”

“Ah, fuck,” Yoongi sighs a little, “Okay. I will drive you there.”

“You sure?”

“How else you wanna get there?” he asks, which shuts you up for a moment.

“I mean, that's true but you said you're busy. Maybe I could quickly check the buses and get to your address. My car's there. Oh, how did I not think of it sooner?”

“Stop,” You pucker your lips as you freeze, almost as if Yoongi is right there. “Don't stress yourself. Just get ready, I'll pick you up in like an hour and half.”

“Thank you.” you say, sighing in relief.

You imagine him nodding as he lets out a humming sound. He excuses himself before he ends the call. Your call falls down on your lap as you stare at the blank screen of his television. Ignoring the thumping of your heart from the entire call, you go get yourself ready.

Yoongi picks you up right on time, his car already parked in front of the building while you walk out of the entrance. When you get inside, you get a greeting in the form of a short nod before he puts the car into drive. Giving him location details, you nibble on your lip for a moment. His car smells like his cologne, mixed with cigarettes and mint. It's an odd scent. Despite you hating the smell of cigarettes, you don't seem to mind this mixture. Besides, the cigarettes' smell isn't that strong.

“Thanks for coming to pick me up.”

Filling up the silence, you feel like it's the right thing to do because you're not going to spend the rest of the ride in an awkward silence. Glancing at Yoongi, he looks anything but awkward. It's like he's in his own space, distancing from everything and everyone, closing himself off as he focuses on driving.

“Is this the moment where you apologize for bothering me?” he questions, a tilt of teasing in his voice as he says it with the most neutral face.

You stare at him, mouth agape before he briefly glances at you as he can't hold himself. His lips twitch slightly but you notice it right away. Breathing out a chuckle, you shake your head at him. Min Yoongi is freaking teasing you.

“I mean—you had to get here when you were working.” you point out.

Though, you weren't planning on apologizing, he's right in a way.

“But I insisted on leaving your car there. I insisted you drive with me.”

For obvious reasons, you think. Not that you want to admit it, but you're glad he didn't let you drive in the state you were in back then.

“You don't have your car thanks to me, let's end it with that, okay?”

“Okay.” you agree, turning your head to the window as you stare at the streets and people passing.

Once the road and surroundings become more familiar, the oddness of this all comes to sit in the pit of your stomach. Meanwhile you stare at the tall building you've grown used to, Yoongi finds a good parking spot. Once the engine's off and business of the surroundings can be barely heard through the windows, you reach for the doorknob slowly.

“You're gonna be fine from here?” he asks, not looking at you when you do glance at him.

When you don't answer right away, he glances at you before you can find the proper words to tell him that you will be fine.

“You don't need me to go there with you?”

Even if his tone is nonchalant as if he's asking the most basic stuff, he takes you by surprise and makes your brows shoot up. “You would go there with me?” you ask, sounding not totally sold on that idea.

Looking at him now, he already seems to be wanting to be in a different place. Not in front of a building full of doctors and inside with a bunch of pregnant females. Suddenly, the thought of seeing him there is a little laughable.

So because of that, you haven't even thought about him being there. Until he said it.

You do need to admit that you haven't been here alone ever since you got pregnant. Your OB/GYN is here, so you used to go here for check-ups way before that. Yeonseok was the one who joined you right after you got pregnant. Thinking of it now, you're reminded of how excited you were to go for these check-ups, not only to calm down your nerves if everything's right, but to see your baby. Even if you could hardly tell their body parts.

It became the thing between you and him. It's what most expecting parents do, but it became your special thing in a way. Something that you always looked for. Something you've always done together.

But now – it's the first time you're here alone. Yeonseok is not by your side and probably the most distant he's ever been in your life. That's on you though. It would be weird to ask him to come here, after everything that has been said between you and him.

“I would, if you want me to.” Yoongi replies, catching your attention and as you slowly shake yourself out of your thoughts, you remember what the conversation is about.

“Wouldn't that be weird for you though?” you ask, noticing you still have ten minutes before your scheduled check-up.

He doesn't respond at first, deciding to ignore that question as he sinks deeper into his seat. Elbow coming up to rest against the door, he uses his fingers to rub his chin softly.

“Nothing I couldn't handle,” he decides to say, “You're acting a little weird, that's why I'm asking.”

Clueless to what Yoongi's thinking, he thinks of one of the reasons that could potentially get you acting weird, at least one that's generalized and comes to his mind first. He doesn't even have to think about it too much. You're worried that something's wrong, right? Aren't most pregnant women like that?

Maybe it's better you can't read his thoughts, or else he would get a nasty look in return. You are a little bit more sensitive.

Should you just tell him? Again, you do not want to burden him in your shit any more than you already do. Telling him about Yeonseok would probably not only put him into a sour mood, but it would mean he would most likely try to understand you. You've figured out a long time ago that he's not bad at all.

Yoongi is actually a sweet person. Still in his way, but without a doubt, he is one.

Making a decision of just telling him instead, be honest and in a hope he won't think you want to be pitied, you lick your lips as you shrug. “It's because it is weird. Yeonseok used to come with me every time.”

He's silent for a moment, “And now he's not here.” he adds without you having to finish as you nod, confirming his thoughts.

“Which of course, doesn't mean you have to go with me.” you quickly correct whatever suspicion he might have.

But looking at him, he looks anything but suspicious. He nods, more to himself than to you or your words, shrugging. “I understand shit about pregnancy, but it probably feels lonely to go there alone, right?”

Well, damn. The look you give him makes him shrug.

“You don't need to pity me, Yoongi. It's not that big of a deal.”

“I still have to wait for you, right? Need to drive you back.”

“Well, it's up to you.” you mumble, tapping your fingers against your knee. “I don't want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“Around pregnant females?” he chuckles, “How bad can it be?”

“You can come with me, I think…” you nibble on your bottom lip, “I think I would like that.”

He nods.

“But only if you want to!”

By the time you're done talking, Yoongi's already unfastening his seatbelt, motioning for you to do the same. You can't believe you're doing this.

As you approach the building and navigate Yoongi where to go, you're not sure what's weird to begin with. The thought of going here all alone or the thought of Min Yoongi beside you.

What the fuck.

Pictures of vaginas, uterus and what it looks inside of women's uterus during pregnancy are everywhere. Don't get him wrong, he has seen a fair amount of vaginas and he's quite familiar with it, but not like this. It feels very… odd to be surrounded by a sketched version of it all. Obviously, he's never been in a waiting room like this one.

Sitting next to you soundlessly, he shifts on his spot as you seem to be immersed in your own thoughts. He has no idea why he agreed to this. While he knows you in no way forced him and perhaps you find a weirdness of his presence here as well, he just tried to do the right thing.

You've been through a lot and as much as he tried to distance from it all, he's got you in his home. Maybe he's not very upfront about it or too enthusiastic, but he does help people that seem in a need of it. Even though he doesn't look like he loves doing it, he just does. Is it important if someone loves or hates helping others as long as they do it?

Right next to him, legs crossed and fingers playing with your rings, you were right. There are couples, chatting silently with wide smiles as they can't see their little ones forming into a proper life. You were one of those people not long ago.

You don't allow yourself to feel guilty about it. You did what you had to do to make sure not to hurt yourself or others even more. Only time will show if it was the right decision, but for now, it feels like the best one you could've made.

On the other hand, you can't believe Yoongi is in a waiting room with you, staring obnoxiously at the image of a uterus. It's pretty laughable though.

Suppressing your laugh, you watch him stretch his legs as his arm rests in his lap. Ignoring the veins that mostly pop up because of the pressure of his posture, he makes himself comfortable. Does he find this weird too?

There is no way he has done this before in his life. Of course, he hasn't.

“You know,” you murmur silently, just for you and him to hear. He glances at you, giving you his attention but then again, maybe he's glad he doesn't have to stare at the picture any longer. “You don't have to go inside with me.”

As usual, he has no shocked reaction to it. “I didn't even think about it.”

You open your mouth, a little offended look that gives it away as he cuts you off before you can say anything.

“I meant as I'll go and wait with you here.”

He tries to explain in his own nonchalant and informative way. Well, you can't get mad at that. Weirdly, you understand what he means.

Leaning back and trying to make yourself more comfortable, you hope they'll take you soon so he doesn't have to wait too long. Despite his usually calm demeanor, Yoongi does not look like the type to like waiting. Well, who does? But he surely has no patience for this. Even more so that he has a job that he needs to go back to.

Luckily, the door opens soon and the nurse you're familiar with calls you in. Some couples like to come early, probably too excited to not mind waiting it out here. Some of them are called as well, since there are more ambulances on this floor.

You grab your things before standing up, making your way inside as the nurse stops you. “Is the young man not going with you?”

Since Yoongi and you were sitting close together, there's a low chance he would be a stranger considering there are free seats on both sides of you. She asks long enough, looking at Yoongi with a welcoming and friendly smile.

“Ah, that's my friend.”

“We're only screening today. It's up to you though.” she reminds you, smiling widely. You would too if you had her paycheck. It's a private hospital after all.

Not trying to catch too much attention about something so… normal, Yoongi directs his eyes from the nurse to look at you. “It's up to you.”

“As long as you're comfortable with it, Mrs. Min. It was just a suggestion. I know some women bring their friends with them, no matter the gender.” she tries to joke, your smile tight and awkward.

“I'm a family friend.” Yoongi justifies, as if that makes it any better.

It's a look of realization that hits you and you watch it in horrification as her smile grows even wider. “Oh, yes! You do look very familiar. You must be Mr. Min's family, right? It's so lovely of you to come here!”

She's kind and clearly enthusiastic, you can't share it with her though. Staring at Yoongi in pure panic, he gives the nurse an unsure smile as he tries to make things clear – which is not like him at all.

“I'm his brother.”

You would've guessed he would just keep his mouth shut at Yeonseok's mention, not confessing his relation to him at that.

“Oh, come on then. Let's look at your niece or nephew.”

You close your eyes, ready to facepalm yourself in front of the entire waiting room as you embrace yourself. You're not sure whether you should laugh at the irony or cry in horrification.

Yoongi presses his lips tight, nodding awkwardly as he glances back at you, giving you the final decision.

“I'm okay with that.”

Despite the irony and awkwardness of this all, it would feel less lonely to be inside and look at the baby. Not thinking about the entire biology and blood related thing, Yoongi is a family. Whether we are speaking only metaphorically or taking biology into consideration. If he wasn't fine about it, he would say so, right?

You see he's a little unsure as he stands up, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck as the nurse ushers you both come in. It's hard to decipher what's going on inside Yoongi's head. One thing's sure and that is he's nowhere in his field. He still walks in the room, trailing slowly behind you as another familiar room welcomes you.

Just as your doctor undoubtedly notices Yoongi's presence as soon as she looks up from the computer's screen.

“It's Mrs. Min's brother-in-law.” The nurse cheerfully informs your doctor, clearly unaware of how much more awkward she is making it for you two.

You can't be mad at her though. She doesn't know. Yoongi does send her a glare which causes you to inconspicuously elbow him when none of them are looking. He shrugs. After all, it is his fault he admitted his entire relation to you. If he kept his mouth shut and just went with being just a friend, it would be less awkward than this.

“It's nice to meet you! Let's look at the baby!” Mrs. Kim, the doctor, says as she stands up and motions for you to lay down.

Trying to shake off any discomfort, you lay down and look at Yoongi for a split second. He stays at the end of the bed, trying to look around as if watching the scene in front of him would make you entirely uncomfortable. It's not like he hasn't seen every inch of you.

Rolling up your shirt just as Mrs. Kim sits down on her stool and prepares the lubricant gel, you spot Yoongi giving you a side glance. His eyes suddenly turn into a big size, naturally finding the small but evident bump you just revealed.

You intertwine your fingers together and put them above your stomach, you try to stay calm.

“This will get slightly cold, you know the drill, Mrs. Min.” The doctor chuckles, squirting a proper amount of the gel onto your lower stomach.

Your attention is turned elsewhere, away from the man who seems so out of place at the moment. You focus it on the screen next to your head, recognizing the familiar sight and colors. However, this time everything's bigger and more visible which makes your chest tight and eyes tear up.

Whether it's your hormones or current situation that makes you so emotional, all the pressure suddenly leaves for a moment at the sight of your baby.

“Everything seems to be looking just alright, Mrs. Min,” she informs you with a smile, giving you a quick glance as she moves the scanner around your lower stomach. “Come closer, Mr. Min. Have a look.” she urges him, just like the nurse, completely oblivious to everything.

Yoongi looks like he wants to protest, almost ready to shake his head but when she turns to him with an encouraging smile, he sighs and comes closer. He leans forward.

“There is the head,” she explains to him just like she did to you and Yeonseok before. “And arms and legs.”

He stares, mouth agape. Straightening himself, he clears his throat and gives her a nervous smile. But it comes out crooked. You almost snort at that.

“The baby is on the smaller side.”

“Is that a bad thing?” you question immediately.

“Not at all, it's not anything abnormal or to be concerned about. It mainly depends on the parents.” she explains, calming you down which makes you sigh in relief. “Would you like to know the gender?”

“You can see that?” you almost jump, seeing her smile curve into a wider one.

“Mhm,” she nods, “It might not be a hundred percent accurate, you're still at fifteen weeks.”

“Wow, well–”

“We can wait for your husband if that's what you prefer.” she assures you, a sour taste coming into your mouth as you look at Yoongi.

“It's whatever you want.” he reminds you silently, the corner of his lips lifting.

By how things look with Yeonseok, you're not sure if waiting for him has any meaning. Fuck. You don't even know if he wants to be the father. How can you possibly just wait it out?

“We could do it on your next scan, it will be more accurate. But I can see it now and I'm eighty percent sure.”

Nibbling on your lip, you literally say fuck it in your head. “Tell me please.”

She chuckles, “From the looks of it, you're expecting a baby girl, Mrs. Min.”

A chuckle of disbelief and joy escapes your mouth, knowing whatever the answer would be, you would be just as ecstatic. It's just knowing the truth and more information about your baby is enough to make you a crying mess.

“I'm sorry,” you giggle, putting a palm over your mouth as you smile widely.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Min.” The doctor and nurse speak at the same time.

“Congrats.” Yoongi says, squeezing your ankle. You bite your lip, giving him a slight nod.

The doctor hands you the wipes and lets you wipe the lubricant off your skin. You're taken back when Yoongi offers you his hand when you sit up.

“We'll just draw your blood to run some tests and you're free to go.”

“Are you happy?” Yoongi asks silently once the doctor and nurse are nearby, but not enough to hear you two. The nurse is preparing the needle while the doctor writes the report to your patient card.

“I am,” you answer with a smile, “I still would be regardless of the gender.”

“A little girl.” he mutters, zoning out for a second.

“A little girl.” you confirm.

You both stare at each other until the nurse comes back and interrupts you, preparing you to draw your blood. “Are you good with needles and blood, Mr. Min?”

He cocks his brow at her, showing her his tattooed sleeve, popped out veins along with it. She blushes in return. She freaking blushes as she laughs a little. You watch the exchange with a deadpan look. He smirks, cockily shrugging when he notices your stare.

She draws your blood, handing you water after she's done just in case. After everything's done, you schedule another appointment before you're free to go. Happily clutching the printed ultrasound, you put it into your purse to keep it safe once you get inside Yoongi's car.

You're both silent, again, deep in your thoughts until the replay of what happened just a few minutes ago makes you ask. “Why did you tell her about being Yeonseok's brother?”

“Why? Should I have not?” he questions right back.

“I just didn't expect that. You're not exactly too keen on informing others about your relation to him. It just seemed odd,” you shrug, voicing out your thoughts. “It felt… awkward. Y'know, considering everything.”

Yoongi stays silent, lips in a thin line before he sighs. “I panicked.”

“You panicked?” you ask, laughing a little at that. “Because of what?”

“I don't know!” he exclaims, almost whining which makes you giggle. “She kept asking and I just didn't know what to say. Wouldn't it be weird for me to be there as your friend?”

“Hm, I don't think so,” you answer, “You heard her. Many friends come there. She doesn't have to know we're not friends.”

“Ouch,” he tries to play it off, clutching his chest as he keeps his eyes on the road. “Are we not friends?”

“I don't know, you tell me. Bro in law.”

“You did not just call me that.” he cringes, causing you to laugh.

“You were the one who was adamant of being my brother-in-law instead of a friend.” you remind him cheekily, watching the way he looks away in embarrassment.

“I panicked.” he mutters rather grumpily causing you to hold your laughter.

After a moment of silence, you look at him again. “Thanks for going there with me. Inside too. It felt nice not having to do that alone.”

“I thought so.” He confesses.

“What do you mean?”

“I thought you might feel lonely,”

You're not sure how to feel about that statement.

“And you're welcome.” he says, though his eyes stay on the road, distant and out of reach.

Delicious smell flows through Yoongi's home as soon as he opens the front door. After he drove you back to his place, he went to work and listened to Jimin's nagging of being a few minutes late. After today, he felt like he could handle anything so Jimin's scolding did nothing to him. Not that it did before but this time, he decided to ignore him instead saying; Well I'm here now.

Jimin, speechless and annoyed, stayed quiet and only shook his head at his boss and friend. What else for him was to do when Yoongi greeted the client and shut the door behind them, hiding from the entire world.

He loves his work. Partly because he's distracted and has no time to think about unnecessary things. Which came handy especially today.

While he was busy working, you don't have much to do. After staring at the scan for a few minutes and dodging your family's calls, you decided to hop into the nearest grocery store. It's been a while since you baked, you prefer cooking but you've been craving something sweet. At least that's what you told yourself, that's the reason why you decided to abuse Yoongi's kitchen. Not because you wanted to do something nice for him, as another thank you for being there for you.

You've no idea if Yoongi even likes cakes.

So when he suddenly appears between his living room and kitchen, at first you have no idea how to explain the slowly disappearing mess that you've tried to clean off before he arrives.

“I baked bundt cake,” you inform him, palm spreading and pointing straight at the fresh cake where steam still flows into the air. “I hope you like cakes.”

“Cakes are fine,” Yoongi mutters, watching you wipe off his counter right away.

“I'm sorry about the mess, I tried to clean it before you come.”

“'S fine.” he says, still standing in the same spot. He is not sure what to think of this.

You finish the last traces of any mess, the good smell, you hope, the only sign of baking remaining.

“Listen,”

You put the kitchen towel back to place, watching him with doe and curious eyes.

“I was thinking. Maybe you should get your clothes and stuff.”

You stare, Yoongi clearing his throat as he shakes his head.

“I meant from your home. You don't have much clothes here and it must be uncomfortable not having your things with you.”

“Are you asking me to move in, Min Yoongi?” you tease, trying to hide your natural reaction which you're not sure what exactly is.

He cringes but chuckles, “You're welcome to stay here.”

You smirk at his diplomatic response before any traces of amusement are gone, a heavy sigh leaving your lips. “You're right. I probably should do that. The thing is–”

A sound of a doorbell rings through the apartment, your eyes meeting as soon as the sound reaches your ears. “Are you expecting someone?”

He shakes his head. His friends know better than to come unexpected, even though he wouldn't put it past them. Without saying anything, he leaves with a thoughtful look to get the door. Something sits in your stomach, perhaps feeling like something's bad coming.

You barely finish the thought when you recognize the voice of your husband, rushed and angry footsteps. It happens in a millisecond and he's revealed in the flesh, shoving Yoongi in the chest.

“Where is she?!” he asks, too upset to notice you first but the shock causes you to yelp in surprise, clutching your chest as you watch Yoongi shoving him back.

However, Yeonseok doesn't reciprocate as the sound coming from you makes his head snap in your direction. He straightens, shocked to see you here but then it turns into a knowing and pained look.

“Of course you're here,” he exclaims.

“Calm the fuck down.” Yoongi warns him. Yeonseok knows better than to react to that, too immersed in you, seeing you in his brother's kitchen. Eyes moving to the freshly baked bundt cake, the one you baked for him multiple times and that's when you see rage coming back.

“So you live here now?!” he yells, causing you to flinch as you can't move for some reason. You're frozen, unable to move an inch as you helplessly watch the scene in front of you. “Playing a happy family with the man that knocked you up?”

“Someone had to when you couldn't.” Yoongi snaps, a loud gasp leaving your mouth as your palm slap against it, eyes fully wide.

Yeonseok lashes at his brother while you watch in horror as Yoongi is being pushed roughly into the wall.

“Stop!” you yell at your husband, already knowing where this is going. “I came to him! It's not his fault!”

“No, but he welcomed you with open arms, didn't he?” he seethes, clutching Yoongi's shirt in his fists as he throws you a nasty glare. “Waiting for this moment to piss me off and get back at me.”

You don't bother explaining to him that no, it didn't happen like that and from what you can clearly remember, he wasn't too keen on getting himself involved. Whatever it is, he still helped you in the end and that's what upsets Yeonseok.

“Yeonseok, listen to him,” you grit through your teeth, stepping closer as he refuses to look at you now that you're closer. “I had nowhere to go.”

“Bullshit!” he yells, Yoongi growling at him for raising his voice as Yeonseok only tightens his hold. “Tell me one reason why I shouldn't knock your teeth out right now.”

He is a maniac. Yoongi is a fucking maniac because he laughs in Yeonseok's face, not exactly fighting his hold as if the thought of Yeonseok coming even close to getting violent is a joke itself. Perhaps it is. You've never seen Yeonseok fighting or getting violent. You don't like it.

“Do it, if it makes you feel better.” Yoongi prompts him with a grin, another gasp yet leaving your mouth.

“Yoongi!”

Yeonseok growls at his brother, throwing Yoongi more into the wall as you cringe at the impact. However, the said man looks unbothered and completely loosen up, showing no resistance. This whole I don't care attitude just pisses Yeonseok even more, prompts him to act violent and upon his anger.

“You're enjoying this, aren't you, huh?!” he yells in his face. Yoongi only scoffs, looking sideways to shield himself from Yeonseok's loud voice hitting him right in the face. “Having my wife in this scrappy place of yours–you've waited for this opportunity.”

Yoongi scoffs, finding Yeonseok's accusation nothing but funny. “The wife you couldn't respect the moment she wanted to break-up.”

Yeonseok's mouth opens in a mild shock, his gaze momentarily falling on you as he stares in utter disbelief. You know how it seems. It's not hard to think what Yeonseok's thinking right now. His assumptions are proved right in his slightly hazy mind. It's not helping with his anger and pain at all. He thinks you really spilled everything to Yoongi. And while you were honest with his brother, it wasn't for some vile reason to hurt Yeonseok. You had to talk to someone and Yoongi would get it. He knows your situation.

“Aren't you two just lovebirds?”

“Yeonseok–” You sigh, exhaustion prominent on your face and voice.

“S–” He lifts his hand up to stop you. “Shut up.”

His audacity and the fact he has never spoken to you that way leaves you speechless. You're not able to react but there's barely any time to as Yeonseok seems unhinged, seeing red.

“Have you fucked her again? Huh? Have you enjoyed fucking her when she's still my wife? We were supposed to be a family. You ruined it.”

“You're delusional if you think I ruined your family.” Yoongi argues, scoffing once again as Yeonseok grunts and pushes him into the wall.

“Yeonseok, that's a serious accusation. I told you, I came here because I had nowhere else to go.”

“Bullshit!” he yells at you, spits of anger landing in front you as you frown.

“If you just let me explain–we need to talk. We could still be a family, it's you who said–”

“I know what I said Y/N,” Yeonseok cuts you off, voice angered and powerful. “But I knew you would come running to this–” He looks in pure disgust at Yoongi who only lifts his brow at him.

“You would what?” Yoongi pushes, “You would want a single mother?”

Yeonseok's face twists in another sign of betrayal and turns into anger. “And you would want her? Is that what you're saying? Take her then. Not so cocky right now, huh?”

Yoongi pushes into him, silently warning Yeonseok to keep his mouth shut. There's nothing you can physically do. You can barely move, watching and listening to the words closely as your heart cracks with each spiteful word your husband says. It's the shock of hearing him talking about and with you like that.

You're not innocent in this at all, but this could've been talked about when everyone's calmed down. Actually, Yoongi shouldn't even be a part of it. Whatever is talked about should be kept between you and Yeonseok. Yet again, you're reminded that Yoongi is currently in this position because of you and your mistake of coming to him.

“You can't be a father, Yoongi,” Yeonseok mocks him, “You just wanted her for a good fuck, is that it? You wanted to get back to me because you're a pathetic brother just as much as you're a pathetic son.”

“Yeonsoek, that's enough!” you yell, no longer keeping quiet but he ignores you, continuing to spit venom in Yoongi's neutral face.

“Try raising my kid–since you so much helped making it.”

You gasp, face twisting into a glare that's shooting at Yeonseok's back.

“Your kid?” Yoongi laughs.

“Yes, my kid.” Is the one argument Yeonseok doesn't let off.

“Let's see who the kid resembles when they're born.”

And that's the final line Yoongi gets to say with a smirk on his face, completely provoking Yeonseok to the core as he can no longer stand it. He growls before a punch is thrown at Yoongi's face, causing him to almost slide off the way. He catches himself and while you yelp, hands covering your mouth in a pure shock even though you should see it coming. You've never thought you would witness such a violence, let alone a fight shared between two brothers.

They've never had a good relationship. Though, you never expected them to come to the point where they actually fight.

Yoongi straightens himself, thumb brushing the corner of his mouth to wipe off a droplet of blood that is a result of Yeonseok's fists. Everything is silent for a second, besides the harsh breaths coming from Yeonseok's angered state and Yoongi's calm breathing. For a split second, you think everything ended. Literally.

But you would be delusional to think otherwise, to think they're done. Because one second you see Yoongi staring deadly at Yeonseok and before the older brother can react, Yoongi's fist meets Yeonseok's jaw in a loud crack, causing him to stumble into the kitchen counter. You gasp, yelling Yoongi's name as you try to catch Yeonseok, so he doesn't hit the edge of the counter. He shakes you off the moment you get to barely touch him, almost as if you burned him.

Frowning, you step aside.

“That's for every second you've disrespected her since you came here,” Yoongi spits at his brother, shaking his fist and bloody knuckles.

Yeonseok's too busy holding up his bloody nose. The sight makes your stomach churn, both in disgust and worry.

“And you fucking know you deserve much more.”

Yeonseok's eyes shut in pain, shaking his hand to get some of the blood off it. You watch it stain Yoongi's floor and you immediately cringe at the sight.

He would have a lot to say, preferably arguing back to Yoongi that it could be an endless fight. This has to end.

Yeonseok is barely in pain, holding himself bravely though as he straightens himself and stares at Yoongi before he moves it at you. “Fuck both of you.”

He storms out of the apartment, leaving not only a mess on Yoongi's kitchen floor and face, but in your heart too.

You're met with a warning glare the moment you press a little too hard. Though, the man in front of you remains silent as none of you dare to speak up. The cake is long forgotten, destined to be thrown away like most things in your life. Besides the blood still covering Yoongi's floor – even if it's just a few droplets – you've moved to his bathroom to take care of his wounds.

He argued not to but you insisted, throwing him a warning glare that made him agree.

“Are you okay?” he speaks up, breaking the silence as you toss away the disinfected cotton wool into the bin.

“Do I seem okay?” you question him, “What were you thinking, Yoongi?” you scold him, frowning once again as he opens his mouth before his own frown settles on his back then calm face.

“What was I thinking? I'm not the one who barged in here to pick up a fight.”

“You provoked him to hit you, don't tell me otherwise.”

“I won't let him speak to me or to you that way in my home.”

That's a valid point.

Yet you can't stop thinking that all of this could've been avoided if he just wouldn't provoke him.

“Yeonseok is not violent, he wouldn't have hit you if you kept your mouth shut.”

“So I'm the bad guy here?” Yoongi exclaims, closing his eyes as he rubs his forehead for a second. “He had it coming and I don't regret it.”

“Yoongi–”

“No. Maybe you're okay with him slutshaming and disrespecting you, but I'm not. I'm not gonna stand there and run his mouth just because he's a fucking pussy.”

“I'm not saying–I get that. But you literally pull on his infertility. That wasn't fair nor nice, Yoongi.”

Yoongi sighs, staring at the ceiling to calm himself down. “That might be right. Wasn't exactly fair, but at that moment I didn't care. And looking at it now, I don't care now either.”

You stare at him in disappointment and sadness, leaning yourself against the sink as you hug yourself with your shaky arms.

Yoongi watches you, gaze softening. “I'm not perfect either, Y/N. I'm far from it actually.”

“I'm not okay with what he said either. But you don't see me hitting him.”

“He hit me first.”

“Yes, because you provoked him to. And you fucking know it!”

Yoongi stares before an amused smirk makes it on his face.

“Don't fucking look so pleased!”

He laughs, shaking his head before his smile slowly drops and you're met with soft eyes again.

“He would've left if we just–I don't know–but I'm sure there could've been no violence. He's hurt, Yoongi. I left him because I was no longer happy in that marriage. He's heartbroken.”

“Are you making excuses for him?”

“No!” you automatically argue.

“Sure sounds like it.” Yoongi scoffs.

You groan, rubbing the side of your face in frustration.

“You're here scolding me and raising your voice when he came here and insulted not just me, but you too. And you're still trying to understand him?”

“It's because I know why he feels like that! It doesn't mean it's right! This could've gone so differently–and you just kept going. I told you guys to stop–but you ignored me and provoked him–” You stop yourself, staring at Yoongi who just stands in the middle of his bathroom watching you silently. His brows lift up causing you to sigh in defeat. “I'm sorry. I'm taking it out on you because you're here.”

Yoongi stays silent for a moment, letting you drown in your frustration and regret. His point is proven, he has nothing else to say.

“Obviously I know he's not right either. What he did was stupid–he already came here angry and to see me here–” You sigh, sniffling a little as you turn around to grip the sink. You breathe through the urge to cry and break in front of Yoongi. “I know we talked about this but I should've never come here. This would not happen if I wasn't here.”

“Stop,” he stops you. Lifting up your gaze, you meet his eyes in the reflection of his mirror. “It's not your fault he acted like an asshole.”

“Yoongi, but in a way I provoked him too by coming here. By staying here.”

“That's messed up to think that,” he still argues back. “You know why you came here. Come on, we talked about this. Stop putting more blame onto yourself. He doesn't do it and you shouldn't either.”

“Because I know what I am saying is the truth.”

“It's your truth,” Yoongi points out, walking closer to you. “Know what I'm sayin'?”

You sniffle, “No.”

He laughs silently, eyes crinkling at the ends as his teeth are on full display. He turns you around by gently gripping onto your shoulder. You're stubborn, not wanting to face him as he nudges your chin to look up at him. His thumbs brushes underneath your eyes, preventing the tears sliding down your cheeks.

“You know, you're just stubborn.” he muses amusingly and softly, just like his sound is. “Now I'm going to wipe the mess in the kitchen and will make us some tea.”

You stare at him in disbelief, seeing him taking a few steps away from you. He turns his back to you, ready to walk out. But he stops in his tracks.

“And Y/N?”

You look at him with watery eyes.

“Don't think of running away.”

It's a simple sentence, a tiny bit teasing on his part and you barely manage to break a smile. He does not stay for any longer, taking care of the mess in his kitchen just like he said he would.

When you join him, you see him wiping the last remains of your husband's blood before his kitchen is just as new. Yoongi tells you to sit on the couch and turn on a movie. You don't argue even though watching a movie is the last thing on your wishlist. He joins you shortly after. The bundt cake sliced neatly on a plate, accompanied with two cups of tea. He munches on the cake throughout the movie, even offers you to eat but you shake your head at him, declining his offer.

He manages to eat all the slices, handing you a blanket when he sees you hugging yourself.

“Yoongi?” you speak silently throughout the movie.

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

The side of your face pressed against the couch, you stare up at him. “For everything.”

“Are you getting sentimental for me?” he muses, turning it into fun and you realize, you prefer it that way. It loosens up the entire moment and situation, even if just a little bit.

“No, just thankful. I know it sounded like I blamed you, it was wrong of me. You were just here and I let my frustration out on you.”

He smiles, shaking his head as if silently telling you to let it go. “I told you I'm not perfect. I am to be blamed for a lot of things. But I don't regret it.”

“Even if your knuckles are cracked?”

A silent laugh comes from the side. “They're not fully cracked but yeah, even then.”

For the first time after the fight, you let a laugh out of yourself as well.

“Come on, you should go to bed. We'll talk about it more tomorrow.”

“Talk about it?” you question, swallowing down a yawn that wants to let out. He's right. You're tired and should go to bed.

“The clothes, you need to get them. I will go with you.”

You sit up, hair a little bit ruffled which makes Yoongi stifle back a laugh. “You will? You sure?”

“Yeah, I don't mind.”

He doesn't tell you that he doesn't want you to interact with Yeonseok, just in case he's there. Considering how shaken up you're from their interaction earlier, and yours too, you shouldn't go through that alone. You're pregnant for fuck sake. You've been through a lot while carrying a fucking human inside of you. That shit is mental.

He makes it sound easy, so easy that you just as easily agree and stand up to move to the bedroom. You linger at the edge of the couch, thinking about still having to change your clothes and take a quick shower.

“It's probably weird, especially after Yeonseok's outburst but you should sleep in the bedroom tonight as well.”

“Don't listen to him,” he says simply, “But are you sure though?”

“Yeah, I don't mind.” you repeat his earlier words, smiling at it which causes him to chuckle at your slight teasing.

“Fine, my back will thank you tomorrow.”

Laughing, you retrieve to the bedroom to get your sleeping clothes that consist of Yoongi's oversized shirt and a pair of shorts. God, you really need your own clothes.

While you're in the shower, Yoongi lets the movie continue without actually paying any attention to it. His knuckles slightly burn, the skin there trying to heal. A side of his jaw hurts but knowing Yeonseok's in a worse state makes it better. It's a little bit childish, he admits that but that asshole deserved it. He thinks he can just punch him and not expect a punch back?

His parents would curse the shit out of him. Regardless if Yeonseok was the first one to attack, Yoongi would be painted as the one that's violent because he fought back. Fuck. He can already hear their potential words so clearly.

You shouldn't have fought back.

It's your fault he's angry.

They've always seen him in a bad light. Partly, he doesn't blame them. He's always been more controversial and wild than his brother. The thing is it wasn't accepted in the family and was approached with a massive hit of criticism and negativity. Partly, Yoongi blames them for how he turned out.

Reaching for his phone, he dials Jimin's number without a second thought. He had enough time to think this through and know that he promised something, he can't change it. He would look like a total asshole. Plus, he doesn't want to change it. Somehow, you've grown to like him. It's embarrassing to admit, but seeing you in such a poor state makes him pity you. You would hate him for these thoughts, that much he knows.

“Bro, it's like night.” Jimin accepts the call with a scolding tone.

“I need you to take tomorrow's appointments.”

“Why? Are you okay?” he asks immediately, tone changing to a confused one. Yoongi has never canceled any of his appointments. A part of keeping his business good and professional, he always dedicated all of his time there. He's not surprised by Jimin's confusion.

“Yeah, I just have some errands to run and I won't be able to be there for a whole day.” He gives a brief explanation, not giving any details.

It's not like he doesn't want to share. Even though he's not a sharing type and keeps stuff to himself, he doesn't see any point in sharing a huge portion of your mess that is called life. It just doesn't seem fair at all.

“Dude, everyone's gonna be mad. They want you, you know that!” Jimin argues, panicking which is understandable.

Yoongi doesn't brag about it, but he knows most clients come to him for their tattoos specifically. Everyone in his team is good, he doesn't doubt it. But even they know how some people come to the studio specifically for Yoongi.

“I can't reschedule them, I'm fully packed.”

“Duh, I know that! What are you even doing Yoongi?”

“None of your business,” Yoongi answers calmly and casually, causing his friend to groan loudly into the receiver. “Just do it. If they don't wanna get tattooed, just give them back their deposit. Or reschedule their appointments, though they might wait months.”

“This better be worth it.” He hears him mumble.

“It's a family emergency.” It's the only explanation Yoongi offers him.

“Family? You don't care about your family.” Jimin points out the obvious, causing Yoongi to purse his lips slightly offended.

It's not like he doesn't care about them. Sure, he seems like it but it's not exactly the truth. He doesn't blame Jimin for thinking it though. He made it seem and obvious as if he doesn't care about them. In some fucked up twisted way, he does.

“Thanks, I owe you.” Yoongi ignores his previous words, not putting them any more attention than he already did by listening to them.

“You bet…” Jimin mutters under his breath, not having enough time to complain as his kind friend ends the call with that.

Later after he takes a shower while you're already in bed, he joins you. He thinks you're asleep but by the sound of your breathing and fidgeting, you're still awake.

“Can't sleep?”

You flinch a little, probably surprised by his sudden voice and the fact he's aware of you being awake. “It's the baby.”

“Is something wrong?” Yoongi asks right away without thinking of it. He lays back, clearing his throat as he stares at the plain ceiling instead. The entire bedroom is swallowed in darkness, letting only moonlight in. He has noticed you prefer sleeping that way and he doesn't have the heart to close curtains.

“No,” you giggle, “She's just moving a lot. Sometimes even kicks me.”

“She… she does?” Yoongi asks, unsure. He has zero knowledge about babies. Let alone how it properly works inside a woman's uterus. It's pretty laughable because he's that clueless.

“Yeah, probably won't let me sleep for a while.”

“What a brat.” Yoongi mutters and you gasp, elbowing his side as he cackles at you.

“You did not just say that,” you exclaim, offended as he continues to laugh silently under his breath. “She's been an active baby lately.”

You've no idea why you're even telling him that. Something just wants you to fill up the sentence. You and him don't talk about the baby a lot. It seems like a taboo topic for understandable reasons and that's solely for not making it too weird.

Yoongi's quiet and while your eyes have adjusted to the darkness, you can clearly see him fully awake with eyes open, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling. You turn to your side, hissing when you feel a light kick in your ribs coming from inside.

“What are you thinking about?”

He doesn't look like he wants to answer, something holding him back. But then he probably seems awkward enough so he swallows, shrugging.

“My mom always said I moved a lot and shit like that. You know–like when she was pregnant.”

The hint of something that has been secretive but very obvious to you from the start causes your breath to catch in your throat. You've never openly talked about the baby being biologically Yoongi's. It's not something you can forget and despite not talking about it, you've been thinking about it almost all the time.

“Oh…”

“Yeah…” he mutters. “Is that weird shit to say?”

“It's not weird,” you assure him softly. Kind of. “I actually find it interesting. If it… if it was a stranger I probably wouldn't know these things.”

“Forget about it, I was just babbling. It just reminded me of that when you said…”

“It's okay, Yoongi.” You laugh at that, feeling his embarrassment. It's practically seeping from him. “Thank you for that. I mean–I'm grateful for that information. Is that a weird thing to say?”

“No, unless we make it weird.” he states, voice different from the usual laid back Yoongi you know. It's kind of cute.

“Okay, let's not make it weird. Let's talk about something else.”

“Talk? You should sleep.”

“I can't when she's moving around so much.” you argue.

It's silent for a moment.

“Does… does it hurt?”

“Sometimes,” you admit softly, “But not so much yet. It probably will get worse once she's bigger.”

“God, why do women go through that?” he mumbles, causing you to snort.

“If your mother didn't go through that, you wouldn't be here.”

“What a lovely life that would be.” he hums thoughtlessly, while you choke back onto your laughter.

“Don't say that!” you scold him. “None of us have asked to be here.”

“True.”

Again, a little awkward silence is shared between you. Well, you're not sure it's purely awkward but you're both fully awake, not ready to fall asleep just yet. You don't know about Yoongi but…

You groan when the little baby growing inside you starts to move around again. You caress your stomach, feeling as if she has a hiccup. “I think she has a hiccup.”

He probably doesn't care, but you share that thought out loud.

“You can feel that?” He sounds confused.

“Yeah,” you nod. “You wanna feel it?”

He stays silent. And for a second, you're sure you've crossed a line and he will just go backwards, distancing from you and the entire situation.

Indeed, Yoongi feels a little awkward about your question. He has distanced himself, not wanting to admit the fact that you're indeed carrying a baby he helped conceive. It's a weird shit to think about. He can't think about it because it automatically makes him feel uncomfortable. He never had a plan to stay in contact with you.

He would never imagine sharing a bed with you, unless it was for a sex. And you had lots of it. Maybe not as much as he wanted but still.

If he knew you would be laying in his bed pregnant, he would probably never agree to this. As bad as it sounds.

This scares him.

But then he thinks of you and your perspective. He has no idea what your thoughts are, well some of them. But something about your innocent and sweet tone makes him rethink. You're here, after an awful day, not crying like he has expected you to do. He sees the light in your tone, one that's caused by the baby growing inside you. You're trying to be friendly, having just as friendly a conversation and Yoongi realizes – he's that for you.

A friend.

You need a friend. You've no one else to talk about it, not currently at least. You've distanced yourself from everyone else for understandable reasons, and he can relate to that.

“Won't that be awkward?” he questions.

“Not unless you make it to be.” you hit him back with his own words, the fact causing his mouth to twitch.

“Okay, sure. It's a one time experience anyway.”

You snort, “You make it sound as if you won't ever meet a pregnant lady.”

“I've met a few but never had an urge to touch their belly. That shit's weird.”

Giggling, you shake your head at him. “Maybe in the future, you will.”

“Future?” he asks, completely confused.

“Maybe if you're gonna have a wife or a girlfriend.” you say, slightly unsure of this topic. Is it okay for you to talk about this? Either way, it's too late to not answer his question anyway.

After all, this specific topic shouldn't be weird.

“I don't want kids,” he informs you, carefully but sternly at the same time. “So that's not happening.”

Sighing, you don't argue about that. If he accidentally gets someone pregnant, he won't be able to control that aspect but you don't remind him of that. He seems stubborn and determined about this opinion of his. And you respect it.

It's silly and you shouldn't have the right to feel this way, but you feel slightly saddened that he's so keen on telling you he doesn't want kids. Even though you've known that for a long time. It's a reminder that he does not want to have anything to do with the baby inside you. It's nothing new but somehow that thought still doesn't sit with you well.

Instead, you swallow all those feelings and take the duvet off your body.

“Whatever,” you murmur nonchalantly. “Give me your hand.”

He does, without question. You try not to think about how warm and big his hand feels. You ignore the little fluttering butterflies that set in the pit of your stomach and inside your chest. Your baby is not to be blamed for.

You move his hand on your stomach but not before pulling up your shirt. You're starting to feel too warm anyway. This way he'll be able to tell the movements more clearly.

“You feel it?” you ask, holding his hand as soon as it's placed over your swollen stomach.

“No? I ain't feel shit.”

You giggle, “You're an ass.”

But then, a sudden kick is sent next to Yoongi's hand. It wasn't a direct move under his palm but he had to feel it regardless. A surprised Oh makes it out of his mouth.

“That's so weird,” he mumbles thoughtfully.

Then she continues again, her little movements more recognizable and becoming slowly familiar to the man laying next to you.

“She's so active.”

“She is,” you hum, slowly letting go of his hands. He lets it rest there for a moment, taking the cue as he pulls it away slowly. “Could let me sleep now though.” You try to play it cool and calm down your racing heart.

Pulling the shirt back down and covering yourself with the duvet, you're trying to act cool like before.

“Wow,” Yoongi says, taken back. “It's weird to think there's another person inside you.”

“Tell me something about it,” you chuckle. “I've wanted to get pregnant for a long time. But nothing could've prepared me for the way it feels. It's weird, I can't describe it.”

He surely can't understand what you're talking about. You don't want him to. You just let your thoughts run free. Some part of you wants to confess those thoughts to Yoongi. Another weird thing to say, but he's like a safe place in a twisted way. You can be honest, even though you're slightly sheepish about it. You can confide in him.

You think he has no idea what he means to you. And even if it's just for a certain time being, you're grateful for it regardless.

Before you know it, the movements stop and you're finally allowed the tiredness to come in. You slowly drift to sleep, clueless to Yoongi being fully awake as he stares at the ceiling with the weirdest feeling all over his body.

It's not as if morning is any better. Surprisingly, you haven't had that much trouble sleeping and you barely woke up. Yeonseok hasn't haunted you in your dreams either, which made it more enjoyable and comfortable. You were too exhausted last night, so a good sleep made it better for you to see today's morning in a better light.

Yoongi's still asleep, his alarm hasn't ringed yet and you wondered if you should wake him up. Maybe he forgot to set up his alarm, but something tells you that's very unlikely.

After you've washed your face and teeth, you decided to give him a few minutes and will try to wake him in case he has really slept in. However, the aftermath of yesterday's events and your good sleep, a cause of your positivism, doesn't last too long when your phone rings.

At first, you don't think much of it. Your father calls you from time to time, he has to when you suddenly go silent. Using busyness as a great excuse when you've been anything but that. He doesn't know that which makes the lie more believable.

As you get to hear his raspy voice again, you expect him to start the same way.

How are you?

Why haven't you called?

But none of that comes as he sounds nothing but concerned, even a little skeptic.

“Y/N, is everything okay with you?”

That alone should alarm you and it does, but you remain cool and voice your confusion. “Yes? Why wouldn't I be?”

“Don't lie. What's happening there?”

He doesn't sound upset, he sounds more worried than anything else. “What do you mean? I'm fine.”

“Really? Because Yeonseok called us yesterday, well today, he kept saying something about you sleeping with his brother?”

You freeze, shame washing over you like the coldest bucket of ice.

“Is that true?”

“Dad, I promise you–It's nothing like that.”

Perfect. Thanks Yeonseok a lot.

“He was also wasted, could barely talk. Called us like two in the morning.”

Sighing, you sit down as you grip your phone tighter. It seems like you can't have a rest for at least one day. Everything keeps biting you in your ass when you think things are getting better. It fucking sucks.

“We're going through a rough patch right now.”

“And you broke up with him?”

“I–technically yes but it wasn't like that. I promise you, it's nothing like that.” you telling, aiming at Yeonseok's accusation that might not be a complete lie but you know how it sounds.

“Then how is it?”

“Dad, I really don't want to talk about it. I'm sorry Yeonseok woke you and Barbara,” you say, mentioning his longtime girlfriend who's like your step-mom. You know she's just as worried. You're surprised she's not the one that called. “He has a hard time dealing with our break-up.”

“He said you're staying at his brother's, is that true?”

One thing about your father is that he never really got into your business. If he was curious or even nosy, he never let it known because he respected everyone's space and privacy. So to have him question you like this means he's truly worried and the call he received from your still husband has made him alarmed.

“Yes–”

“So it's true? Y/N, have you cheated on him?”

“God, no!” You exclaim loudly, taking a deep breath as you release it in a form of loud sigh. Technically you haven't. “I haven't cheated on anyone. Look, it's really complicated. I had nowhere else to go.”

“Nowhere else to go? You could've come here.”

You sigh, rubbing your tired eyes. “I know but I didn't wanna bother you with our issues. Yoongi is familiar with it, so I just decided to come here. It's just for a few nights, I will figure it out. Don't worry.”

“How can I not worry when I found out from my son-in-law that you're not living at home? And that you live with his brother instead?”

“He's not exactly the perfect husband you have him for, dad.”

“What do you mean by that? Did he hurt you?”

“Not like that,” You shake your head. “I had a share on it too. None of us are innocent. Look, all you have to know for now is that I'm okay. I need to figure this out on my own. You've nothing to worry about.”

“You can't just tell me you live somewhere else with Yeonseok's brother, and tell me not to worry!”

“Listen, dad. I love you but I'm very close to hanging up. I understand you're worried but you're not exactly helping me with freaking out. I told you I'm fine, so please trust your daughter instead. I'll handle it and I'll talk about it when I'm ready.”

Well, you're not sure if you should tell him the entire truth. The thought of that is embarrassing and completely uncomfortable. You're not going to tell your dad that you've slept with another man just to get pregnant. Even if Yeonseok agreed to it.

Overall, you would spare him the details.

“But you're pregnant. You're carrying his child. You can't just leave and not talk to him.”

“Oh, I talked to him. He's not as interested in being a father as he was.”

“What?!” He yells into the phone, causing you to cringe at his shocked and upset tone. “He said that?!”

“Along the lines,” you mumble, “Don't worry, I'm doing fine. So is your granddaughter.”

“G-granddaughter?”

That finally gets his mind off Yeonseok. “Yes. I had it confirmed yesterday.”

He sighs, chuckling on the other line. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

“Y/N–”

“Dad–please.”

He sighs in defeat. “Okay. But promise me you'll call if you need something.”

“I always will, dad. Please don't worry.”

Eventually, you end the call. Just as your phone is being tossed onto the counter, Yoongi sleepily steps into the kitchen with bed hair and narrowed eyes. “Why were you yelling?”

“It's nothing.”

“Y/N…” Yoongi warns, narrowing his eyes through his tiredness.

“It was my dad. Yeonseok called him drunk last night.”

“Fuck,” That has him waking up as he stares you down. “What did he say?”

“That I cheated and I'm staying at your place.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Not much,” you admit, “I don't want him to worry.”

“He's a fucking idiot.”

“Yoongi…”

“No, he is.” He insists, rubbing his chest tiredly as anger twists his puffy face. He looks cute, even with the tattooed sleeve that's on full display.

“He was drunk,” you point out. “Surely angry and upset.”

“I'm surprised he didn't run to mommy and daddy.”

“Shit,” you exclaim. “What if he did?”

“Would it matter?” Yoongi questions.

You stare at him as if he grew two heads. “Of course! What would they think of me?”

“You really care about that?”

“If he told them the story that I cheated on him with you, I do care!”

Yoongi sighs, leaning against the door frame with arms crossed over his chest. “We know it's not the truth. Not exactly. And we will explain that to them if it ever came down to it.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Because it is,” he argues. “And there's no need for you to worry about it too much, alright?”

You give him Really? Look.

“If he called your dad, I really doubt he got our parents involved. Knowing them, they would call or barge in here right away.”

“You think?”

“Oh, I know.” he hums. “So don't worry and get yourself ready.”

That's right. You're supposed to get your clothes today. But you thought it'll be later on, probably when he gets back from work or over his lunchtime. You just need to get your things. It shouldn't take too long.

“Are you not going to work today?”

“No, I have a day off.”

“Really? You never mentioned anything about having a day off.” you wonder, staring at him straightening himself as he stretches his arms, shrugging.

“Didn't think it's important.”

“Okay,” you sigh. “What if he's there?”

Yoongi watches you for a moment, “That's why I'm going with you.”

“I think that will piss him even more if he sees you there.”

“Should I not come?”

You shake your head, “That's not what I meant. I just–I don't know what's right or not anymore.”

“It's true, maybe he wouldn't get so angry but there's no guarantee he won't get verbal again. I just don't think you should go through that alone.”

Something about his words make your chest warm, an appreciative smile beaming on your lips but you shake yourself out of it as a smirk replaces it. “Are you starting to care about me?”

What you get in return is a mixture of a chuckle and smirk. “I'm serious, Y/N,” he says, more seriously. “I'm going just in case he needs another punch.”

“Please, don't say that.” Your smile drops.

“I can't promise anything but I'll try to be on my best behavior.”

“Somehow, that doesn't go along with you.” you tell him with suspicious eyes as he smirks.

“You're gonna have to wait and see.”

“No fights.” you warn him, lifting up your finger at him to make yourself clear.

“Okay, mom.”

“Ew.” you cringe, walking past him but not before slapping his chest. “Keep it down.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

You walk back into the bedroom, to change your clothes and get yourself ready with an unbelievable smile on your face. You fight the sheets neat and made, a fresh air filling the bedroom that has become too familiar to you.

With a lighter feeling in your chest, you prepare yourself for what's about to come.

#networkbangtan #btswritingcafe #bts smut #yoongi x reader #bts fluff #bts angst #yoongi fanfic #ficswithluv #ksmutclub #bts au #yoongi smut #personasintro

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hotjaneaustenmenpoll · 1 month

Text

Semi-Final One

Propaganda...

Colonel Brandon (1995):

Alan Rickman has the sexiest voice. Just listen to him reading poetry to Marianne at the end to witness how hot he is.

Alan Rickman simply embodies the truth of Col. Brandon in a way that no one else every could. It's the perfect merging of actor and role. He brings the perfect combination of honor, decency, sensitivity and passion. He is the ultimate mensch.

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Brandon propaganda in which even the film's director agrees that Brandon is sexy.

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More Brandon propaganda! This photo could only be published in black and white because it would have been too powerful in color (the original color version is currently being used to provide electricity for a medium sized town in Devon. It's THAT powerful).

The brim of the hat falling over his eye. The casual lean. The hunting rifle slung across his leg. The puppy bestie. The fact you know he could row that boat while you watch and wish you were the boat.

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From Emma Thompson's diaries which she kept while they were shooting Sense & Sensibility. Emma Thompson said vote Colonel Brandon.

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Mr Darcy (1995):

Colin Firth (1995) is book Darcy brought to life. He uses tiny gestures and looks to communicate with us and Elizabeth… his struggle is so subtle but so palpable. A beautiful asshole with a creamy nougat center. Just perfect.

GIF by sunsetboulevards

Those heart-eyes right up above☝️? Hot!

Passive-agressively drinking tea? Hot!

GIF by jaeausten

The way he rushes over to see Elizabeth at Pemberley on those delicious long legs of his with that slutty wet curl hanging over his forehead? Hot!

GIF by didanagy

Fencing? Hot!

GIF by greengableslover

The way he is so concerned about Elizabeth crying and takes her hand even though he shouldn't? Hot!

GIF by greengableslover

This dimple-y smile of pure joy because he knows he's married to Elizabeth freaking Bennet? Hot!

GIF by didana

Colin Firth Darcy is simultaneously immaculately put together and entirely falling apart internally. The wet shirt scene is so iconic not (only) because ‘oooh almost-shirtless sexy man’, but because it’s a metaphor for how he’s absolutely falling apart!!! This is a private moment, when he doesn’t think anyone can see him. And then he bumps. into. Lizzie. At his house!! And the entire sequence that follows with him rushing out still doing his jacket up to catch her before he leaves. They are both on the back foot and it’s THAT moment of confusion that opens a more honest dialogue between them.

Without Firth in a lake you wouldn’t get Macfadyen in a downpour!

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There's a reason why Colin Firth is forever known as Mr. Darcy above all other roles he's had and will have! Even ignoring the wet white shirt, which has become A Thing now, he is so hot with his curly hair and his little half smiles and his intense looks of longing and his legs that go on for milessss.

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This cannot be real. My fellow Jane Austen people. Without Colin Firth’s Darcy we wouldn’t have 90% of modern JA content. He opened a door and there was no turning back for modern culture. There would be no MacFadyen standing half undressed in a field at dawn without Firth jumping into a lake first. There would be no hand flex if there hadn’t been Firth doing his best impression of a man undressing Elizabeth Bennet with his eyes and hating himself for liking it. There would be no Bridgerton without Bridget Jones. Let’s face it people. We wouldn’t be here having these arguments if Colin Firth had not been Mr Darcy.

Colin Firth understood Mr. Darcy in a way no other actor ever has. He is awkward as fuck in a way that comes across as snooty and judgmental on a first watch-through, then can be read as awkward and longing on a second time. His performance had such depth while looking extremely shallow at first glance. This man WAS Mr. Darcy. (I love 2005, as well, and I love Matthew McFayden, but he was awkward for awkward sake.) Colin Firth made Darcy's awkward look snooty and aloof.

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THE socially awkward Darcy is the 1995 Darcy - look at him coming and sitting in awkward silence with Elizabeth pointedly asking her if she wants to live a long way from her family (to obvious relief) and then abruptly leaving - vote for him please 😭😭😭😭

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GIF by my-little-random-world

Colin Firth served so much as Darcy that when they did Bridget Jone's diary, they brought him back.... AS DARCY. The smoulder. The angst. The man is the quintessential Darcy.

��Firthing” is an actual term that is used now to describe someone yearning intensely. It is named after Colin Firth’s Mr Darcy performance.

Colin Firth all the way. He's known in our household as Owl Eyes because in every frame he's mooning over Elizabeth Bennet. Unsurpassable, unmatched, golden television (and some of the worst dancing you've ever seen).

Colin has beautiful, touchable curls.

Link

My high school English teacher was very into using movies to teach alongside literature, which was a great teaching tool. When we read Pride and Prejudice, he used both 2005 and 1995 for various scenes. What stands out to me all these years later was when it got to the part when Lizzy went to help Georgiana after Caroline dropped Mr. Wickham's name and Darcy gives Lizzy this look:

My teacher stopped the film and pointed at Darcy's face and said, "See that? That is THE look. If someone ever looks at you like that, you know they're in love." And what is hotter than that?

Also this teacher had two cats named Lizzy and Darcy. Not relevant to the poll but I wanted you all to know about them.

Colin Firth dazzles and amazes in the nuanced performance that just blows all other attempts away.

The best thing about the Colin Firth wet shirt scene is actually the scene that follows where him and Lizzie are both just dyinggg of embarrassment but Darcy pulls himself together refuses to lose his advantage and runs to get dressed and chase her down before she leaves - just the mix of cringe and hopefulness at seeing her again is so well done and so attractive!!! (this is just the bit where he's running after her but I love it all!)

#hotjaneaustenmenpoll #semi finals #mr darcy #colonel brandon #pride and prejudice 1995 #sense and sensibility 1995 #pride and prejudice #sense and sensibility #jane austen #colin firth #alan rickman

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